Mercy (2 page)

The Yaguara had prowled the forest long before humans built their now crumbled pyramids, were worshipped by them as gods. They had survived the foreign diseases that decimated the human population, then preyed upon the conquistadors who dared trespass their lands. Hers was a proud people, fierce, some would say brutal, isolated and preferring to remain so.

Iada looked out over the city. This had been their sanctuary for thousands of years.

Most of her kind would leave the city soon, returning only for the festivals and when need required that council be convened, such as this gathering to decide the broken succession. Most preferred to remain nearby in the surrounding jungle. Some traded the small gemstones that littered the caves to wander the world as wealthy humans.

From where she stood on a limestone ledge cut into the mountain face, the canopy was just below her feet, thick and lush, vibrating with life. The wanderers had brought many treasures back to their world, the luxuries and wonders of modern science and technology. The Yaguara knew their human neighbors intimately even while they remained invisible to human eyes. This living jungle cocooned them, a natural barrier to the humans who arrogantly believed they understood the world they walked through.

Sweat trickled between her breasts and caught the rich breeze available only above the canopy. Mere feet below, covered by thick growth, the air was still, hot and moist. Her nostrils flared, sorting the flavors of the wind, monkey, peach palm fruit and wild orchid, the loamy smell of fertile soil.

The light was fading swiftly, twilight dropping like sheeting rain. She sensed the change but her eyes quickly adjusted, edges sharpening, shapes becoming more defined even as they lost their color. Time to hunt. She shifted effortlessly, leapt nimbly from the ledge and descended into the jungle with the night.

***

Iada was not what he’d expected. The Silveira champion, a title that would strike fear into the heart of the staunchest warrior. Gabriel watched the fearsome creature now as she shifted, momentarily vulnerable and swaying as she straightened, not yet stable in her human form. Again he refrained from pressing his advantage and he wondered at his own restraint. He could force her to give him the answers he needed but he stayed rooted in place, watching her silently from behind a Tucum palm, wondering how it had come to this. He’d won the crown and still he was hiding in the shadows.

Claiming her as his mate had not been any part of his plan. He’d known who she was—orphaned ward of Vin and Arturo, a skilled warrior, clever, solitary and cold-hearted. His reports had also told him that she was loyal to her uncles. He needed to know if there was any chance of turning her to his side. The support of a full-blooded Yaguara queen, a Silveira, would be a powerful tool.

That wasn’t why he’d spared her. He wasn’t really sure why he’d done it. Except that she hadn’t seemed like a cold-blooded Silveira when he’d first seen her across the pit, only unhappy and impatient. He remembered pinning her to the ground thinking to end it quickly, and she’d twisted out of his hold so smoothly he didn’t have time to block her. Then before he could recover, she’d mounted him, captured his wrist and rolled in a move that stretched his arm to its breaking point. Flawless. He was all admiration until the pain shocked up the splintering bone to lodge in the pulled socket. Their eyes had met, she’d eased her hold ever so slightly and he’d managed to slip out.

At the time he’d believed that loosened grip intentional. Mercy. Now he was not so sure.

Iada tipped back her head and let the fat droplets of rainwater slide over her tongue and lick lazy trails down her body. She was beautiful, possessing all the natural elegance of a full-blooded Yaguara, black-haired and solemn-eyed with a sleek muscular body. It didn’t change who she was but he couldn’t stop watching her, couldn’t stop the blood from rushing to his cock and robbing him of his ability to think clearly.

Instinct told him to take her now and cement the bond. He had that right. He’d spared her life during a death match, and by custom that was a declaration that he claimed her as his mate. When she submitted, they were instantly and irrevocably bound. No ceremony, no white gown or flowers. Only the courtesy of unspilled blood. To Gabriel’s knowledge, it was a custom that had not been invoked for centuries. There was probably a good reason for the lapse, he thought, stepping out from behind the palm and walking forward to meet his mate.

“Stalking me, husband?” Iada called out while he was still a good twenty feet away, not bothering to turn around.

Gabriel stifled a smile. Of course she’d known he was there. “If I was stalking you, you’d never know it,” he said mildly, keeping well out of reach. Her stance was relaxed but he could tell by the subtle tension in the set of her shoulders that she was prepared for an attack. “I already had the chance to kill you,” he reminded her.

She turned her head to regard him over a bare shoulder. He could see the bruises already forming on her back and neck and he checked the impulse to apologize. In the darkness her eyes were black and unreadable and he wondered what she saw when she looked at him—king or abomination?

“You knew about my neck,” she said flatly. “I understand about the others. Anyone could see their weaknesses but how did you figure out mine?”

No reason to hide the truth. “The man who trained me had the same talent. You’ve a rare gift.”

She ignored his attempt at flattery and turned so she was facing him fully. “You’ve been spying on us.”

“My information came from defectors, not spies.” He wouldn’t have risked one of his people here.

She paused for a moment to consider that, the calculating look on her face reminding him that no matter how delicate she seemed, this woman was dangerous. But she hadn’t attacked yet and he chose to take that as encouragement. Maybe she would be willing to listen.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she shook her head. “Why did you spare me?”

Good question. Gabriel stepped closer to get a better sense of her. He inhaled deeply and could scent her on the humid air—wariness, a trace of sweat, frustration and, interestingly, arousal. She stared, awaiting his answer, her face composed, beautiful and very cold. It gave nothing away but he couldn’t shake the impression that behind the warrior’s mask, there was someone worth knowing. Someone capable of mercy. Someone wounded and hiding. It was what had called to him in the pit, tugging at every protective instinct he had.

“You’re not what I expected,” he told her, and she flinched a bit, covering the reaction by ducking her head. He couldn’t help but follow her gaze down past full breasts, a narrow waist and the soft thatch of dark hair between her thighs. He watched her toes curl into the mud and felt another wild urge to shelter her. The Silveira champion. Perhaps the round kick to his skull had done more damage than he’d thought.

Her gaze angled up, rested briefly on his groin and then lifted to his face. His cock throbbed in response and he gave her a wry smile. No point in trying to hide it.

Before he could think of something to say to pass it off lightly, she surprised him again by stepping forward until her breasts were pressed to his chest and his cock was pinned between their bodies. She tilted her head to look up at him and her lips parted slightly. Damn, she was aroused, as hot and ready as he was, and he couldn’t take her, not until he knew what her game was. Her hands slipped down his back to cover his ass and he stifled a groan.

“Iada.” He breathed unsteadily and reached back to capture her hands.

She didn’t answer, only dropped her head so that her hair shifted forward to hide her face. She licked a droplet of water from his chest and his whole body shuddered with the effort it took to restrain himself. Ignoring the clamor of instinct and lust, he stepped back. Her hands were cold and his were shaking. It took him a minute or two before he was able to look her in the eyes, but when he did, that lost look was back on her face. He cupped her flushed cheek. “This is not the reason I spared you.”

She glanced at his cock, still ready, hard and hopeful and lifted a skeptical brow. He grinned. “Not the only reason, anyway.”

She shook off his hand. “You want me. I can see the evidence for myself.” Her delicate nostrils flared. “I can smell it on you. Why do you hesitate? I’m willing.” She tilted her head, regarding him with calm curiosity. “Did you wish to take me by force?”

He made a disgusted noise. “No.”

“If you’re hoping to use me to get to my uncles, it won’t work.” She shook her head. “They won’t care what happens to me now.”

He didn’t believe her but it didn’t matter. He’d already considered the idea and discarded it. “I don’t use people like that,” he told her. “I’m not a Silveira.”

Her eyes lit with amusement. “No, you are not.” She took a step back and tilted her head to one side. “Not entertainment, then. Not revenge. It’s a simple question, Gabriel. Why am I still alive?”

He paused to consider his answer. She’d managed to unsettle him, presenting herself as if she were nothing, as if he were a dumb beast to be tamed by the scent of willing female flesh. She was still fighting him, he realized, only more subtly now. He thought she might be winning.

Refusing to play her games, he decided to give her the truth. “You hesitated when you had the chance to kill me. You faltered and you lost.”

She gave a sharp shake of her head, her skin shedding tiny droplets of water that splattered across his chest. “I’m no coward to flinch from spilling blood.”

He rubbed at his jaw. “Is that what they’re saying about me?”

She regarded him levelly but didn’t answer.

Working to keep his voice calm, he said, “It was mercy, not cowardice, and I extended you the same.”

He gave her a moment to puzzle out that distinction, knowing that it would likely be lost on a Silveira. The rain had thickened. One fat droplet of water slipped down over the slope of her breast and he watched it drip from the point of her nipple. He called himself a fool for refusing what she’d freely offered and forced his attention back to her face.

“Mercy,” she scoffed. “Even if that’s the truth, you must have had some purpose for it. Just tell me what it is that you want and I’ll decide if I can agree to it. We need to return to the compound soon and my uncles will expect me to help them dispose of you.”

He’d suspected as much but he was surprised to hear her confess it. “And do you always do what they say, Iada?”

She looked like she wanted to spit in his face and deny it but instead said, “Everyone does.”

“Not anymore. You side with me and I’ll protect you from them.”

She snorted.

She didn’t believe him. Fine. He’d need to find a way to convince her of that, but first he needed to know if she was even willing to consider helping him.

“You want to know the price of your life?” He traced a finger down the side of her face. She trembled but didn’t pull away. Her arms were crossed over her magnificent chest. Her chin was tipped back defiantly and she met his stare dead-on. He grinned at her and tapped her chin. “What I want from you, Iada, more than this lovely little body, more than the opportunity to strike at your family, is your full and public support.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “My support for what exactly? You’ll need to be more specific.”

He didn’t know what he had expected. A denial or an attempt to bargain. Not confusion. He hadn’t thought that Iada would pretend ignorance. It was a cowardly move and the strength of his disappointment startled him. He gave her a warning look. He wouldn’t be toyed with. Not about this. “You know why I’m here.”

She opened her mouth but before she could deny it, he said, “You help me to convince the Yaguara to take responsibility for their human children and—”

“That will never happen,” she said bluntly, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

Her surprise seemed genuine and he paused. She had to know the reason he was here. He shook his head and let his voice deepen into a growl of warning. “Is this the way we’ll play it, then?”

“I’m not playing games,” she snapped. “You’re crazy if you think you can force that kind of change. Crazy to even want it.”

She moved to step past him and he stopped her by wrapping his arm around her slender waist. With his other hand, he caught her chin and tipped her face up. “It’s going to happen, Iada. You’ve already lost. You can be my queen or my enemy. The choice is yours but I won’t offer it again.”

She tried to turn her face away but he tightened his hold on her jaw. He didn’t trust in her words but her face was too expressive to hide everything. That shadow was back in her eyes and there was an unhappy tightness at the corners of her mouth.

“It would be cruel to bring them here,” she said. “They could never belong—”

“Who said anything about bringing them here?” She was purposefully obscuring the issue. The children were entitled at the very least to financial support, guidance for the ones able to shift. The Yaguara called them mutants and until recently had barely recognized their existence.

Gabriel had been one of the lucky ones, raised in a building owned by a Yaguara who’d chosen to live in the human world with his human mate. He’d grown up surrounded by others like himself. He’d been cared for, made to understand what he was. He’d been taught how to shift and how to fight. Word had spread of their community and by the time he’d returned home from school, that building was full. Gabriel had opened a new shelter, this one a run-down two story home he’d fixed up with his own hands. They now had three shelters in different cities. There had been four until the fire. His fingers flexed into her soft skin and he saw her wince. He gentled his hold but did not release her. “Remember—
you
came after
us.
We were content enough on our own until you decided that we were a liability.”

She frowned at him and if he didn’t know any better, he would have believed the innocent confusion on her face. But he did know better. He knew exactly who she was—the Silveira champion—and she had no claim to innocence.