Passion Untamed (22 page)

He stroked her damp cheek. “Lyon has called the Shaman to unbind your magic. We’ll do the power raising as soon as you’re ready.”

“Lyon agrees?”

“He does.”

“That’s good.” But a host of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She’d wanted them to give her a chance, but now that she was getting it, she was suddenly overcome with doubts of her own. What if she couldn’t pull it off?

Paenther looked at her quizzically. “What’s the matter?”

“What if I forget the words?”

He kissed her forehead. “I remember them. We’re going to make this work. Together.”

A head pushed between them, that of a big black Lab looking for attention.

“Jealous thing,” Skye scolded fondly, laughter in her voice.

Ignoring the dog, Paenther kissed her one more time, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, as she savored the heady taste of him. But the dog refused to be ignored, and she started to laugh.

With a chuckle, Paenther released her and stepped back. “Go ahead. They deserve a little of your time, and the Shaman won’t be here for at least an hour. Not with the sudden turn of bad weather.”

She saw the glimmer of humor in his eyes and laughed. How was it possible to love another person so much that she honestly wondered if her heart would simply stop if his did? As she turned to her animals, her joy flickered and died beneath the weight of her fears.

What if she couldn’t help Paenther at all?

Two hours later, the Ferals and their mates trudged through the snow-blanketed woods. As they climbed down to a broad, flat stone,
the goddess stone
, Skye stared down at the glory of the raging Potomac River far below.

Though the snow had ended a while ago, the wind still whipped, cold and biting.

Paenther pulled her against him. “We’ll call a Feral Circle to enclose the magic and keep out prying eyes.”

Lyon joined them. “Kara’s going to pull the radiance to melt the snow so Skye’s feet don’t freeze.” His hand went to Paenther’s shoulder. “Wish you could join us, B.P. Maybe if this works…”

Skye shivered, and Paenther pulled the leather coat he’d loaned her tighter around her. All she
wore beneath was a thin, flimsy sleeveless silk gown. A ritual gown, Kara had called it. Kara and Delaney had taken her aside to dress her, choosing a beautiful gown of a vibrant blue they said brought out the color in her eyes.

“Once we’re ready, we’ll call down the power of the panther.” Lyon looked at her. “I want you to wait outside the circle with Kara and Delaney until I call you. Then you can do…whatever it is you do.”

Skye nodded, leaning back against Paenther as she watched the other Ferals gather around Kara, the five huge males dwarfing the woman. Lyon took Kara’s hands while the others touched her neck or arms or ankles.

Skye had seen this once before, in her prison cell, and looked for a repeat with anticipation.

“Ready?” Kara asked.

“Do it, little Radiant,” Lyon replied quietly.

Just like that, Kara lit up as if she’d swallowed two dozen lightwicks. The effect was even more amazing outside beneath the clouds. She looked like an angel come to Earth. Or the sun in human form.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Delaney breathed, standing beside her, the collar of her own coat turned up against the wind. “I’ll never get used to this stuff.”

Skye met the other woman’s gaze, seeing warmth and intelligence, a strong soul and friendship in those dark eyes. She smiled warmly in return. “It is amazing.”

Around Kara’s and the men’s feet, the snow melted as if someone were warming the stone from within. When Kara’s light went out, the men stepped back, stripping to the waist. Golden armbands wrapped around thick arms glowed dimly beneath the heavy clouds. To a man, the Ferals were beautifully built, powerful and strong. But the only one who set her heart to racing was the one at her back.

Paenther gave her a squeeze, then released her to turn her in his arms. The warmth of his hands seeped into her bare flesh beneath the coat’s leather. “Are you ready?”

The warm scents of leather and male cut through the cold air, heating her blood. As she stared into his dark eyes, she told him the truth. “I’m scared that I might not help you. Otherwise, I’m ready.”

He squeezed her shoulders. “You’re going to do the best you can, Beauty. That’s all any of us can ask.”

“Ready, B.P.?” Lyon called.

Paenther kissed her, a quick peck that sent his soft black hair sliding against her cheek. Then he released her and pulled off his shirt, and went to join the circle.

Kougar led the chant as the Ferals cut their chests with a sharp knife, one after the other, slapping their palms to the bloody wounds. Finally, Paenther cut his own chest, bloodied his hand and shoved his fist into the air. One by one, the other Ferals slapped their hands on top of his in a savage ritual of blood and power.

“Skye, join us,” Lyon called.

She shrugged off the long leather coat and handed it to Delaney, then stepped out of the borrowed boots. Taking a deep breath for courage, she walked barefoot across the wet rock to enter the circle and stand before Paenther.

He stared down at her, his gaze falling to her knees and rising again, slowly, male appreciation warm in his eyes. Then he tilted his head back and yelled to the clouds, his deep, strong voice ringing out over the rocks and wind, “Spirits rise and join. Empower the beast beneath this sky.” The others joined in, the words drifting and sliding around her. Thunder rumbled. The rock beneath her feet began to shake.

“Dance, Skye.” Paenther threw back his head, and roared, “Empower the spirit of the panther!”

As the energy flowed around her, Skye closed her eyes and spun, her feet moving as she chanted the words Ezekiel had taught her.

“Stop!” Paenther’s voice barked in her ear as his rough hands clamped onto her shoulders, stopping her abruptly. Her eyes flew open and she stared with horror at the Ferals around her bent double with pain.

She jerked free of Paenther’s hold and spun to face him. “What happened?”

“Those are not the words Ezekiel taught you,” he growled, his own face a mask of pain.

“They were.” Her trembling hand went to her forehead. “I thought they were.” She whispered some of the syllables.

“No. Those are the words I heard in the cavern.”

Violent quakes tore through her body and she covered her face with her hands. This was the very thing she’d feared! That she’d hurt them. That Birik and his darkness had stained her soul.

“Shh…” Paenther’s strong arms went around her and he pulled her against him, holding her too tight, his body strung taut with pain. Soft in her ear he said the words he’d heard as many times as she had last night.

Skye began to whisper the words with him, over and over, louder as she pulled out of his hold and turned. The Ferals straightened, their faces slowly clearing of the terrible discomfort.

Deep within her she felt the power begin to rise.
Praise the Mother.
But as she spun, the pain attacked her instead, a sudden searing wound through her chest as if someone had stabbed her with a dagger. She clutched her chest, forcing her feet to keep moving, but the pain intensified until it was a searing mass of fire and she couldn’t breathe. She stumbled, gasping, dizzy with pain.

Paenther gripped her shoulders, holding her upright. “What’s the matter? I could feel it working.”

“My chest.” And suddenly she understood. “The cantric. It won’t let me…” she gasped. “Damn him. Damn him!” She looked up. “Help me. Say it with me.”

“No. Not if it’s going to hurt you.”

“Say it!”

His jaw tightened, but he said the words with her, helping her dance when she could barely stand upright, when her vision threatened to fail. When she could hardly speak.

She felt his panther fighting to get back to him. But the harder she struggled to keep going, the worse her own pain became.

Paenther stopped her. “That’s enough, Beauty.”

“No! It’s not.” His panther growled, demanding her help. And she would help him!

“That’s enough, Skye. I feel better. Stronger. It’s enough.”

The panther inside him howled with frustration.

“It’s not enough! He’s trying to reach you. I can help him reach you.”

His face went hard and he hauled her against him, pinning her to his body. “No. This is killing you. I’m okay.”

“Paenther…” Slowly, the pain in her chest ebbed to a throbbing ache. “I need to heal you.”

“Look at his eye,” Tighe said.

“Your Feral marks are back, B.P. See if you can shift on your own again.”

Skye pulled back and looked up into Paenther’s face. The scars across his eyes were indeed back. She released him and stepped back as he shed his pants then, with a flash of sparkling lights, shifted into the panther. A moment later, he returned to human form and donned his pants.

Lyon’s voice rang with quiet satisfaction. “Thank you, Skye.”

She nodded, but deep inside Paenther, his animal continued to charge at her frantically, begging her to continue.

She’d helped him.

But not enough. Not nearly enough.

“It’s not working!” Paenther growled, hours later. The rage inside him twisted and turned like a living thing.

He and Skye were back in the Blue Ridge, standing behind the Market with Tighe, Delaney, Hawke, and Wulfe. It was nearly dusk, the gray sky growing dark. Vhyper, Jag, and Foxx only had a handful of hours left. But try as they might, they couldn’t get through the warding.

He’d found the Market as he’d known he could, but getting up the mountain was proving impossible. Three times Skye had tried to lead them and each time, just past the place where he’d made love to her that day, things had started to fall apart. They started becoming disoriented. Confused. Hawke had shifted and tried flying over the warding, only to wind up spiraling to the ground, breaking his wing.

The last time, he and Skye had gone alone, but it was no use. Unless she could carry him, and she sure as hell couldn’t, she wasn’t going to get them into that cavern. Unlike some of the other Ferals, he had no ability to change the size of his animal. When he shifted, he was a large, full-sized panther. Period.

Tighe, Delaney, and Hawke sat on the remains
of a discarded sofa. Kougar leaned against the brick wall of the Market while Skye sat beneath the trees on the hill, surrounded by the creatures of the forest.

Paenther paced. “Ideas?” he threw out to the group.

“There’s one,” Skye called softly, then rose and came down to join them. “I remember the counterspell. I can go in alone and try to free Jag and Foxx.”

“No.”

“If they escape, Birik probably won’t bother to sacrifice Vhyper. The death of one Feral won’t be enough for what he wants.”

“You’re not going in there alone.”

She looked at him helplessly. “I can’t get you in.”

A chill slid down his spine. “You can take me in the same way you did before. Enthrall me.”

Tighe growled. “Don’t even think about it, B.P. You’ll just wind up sacrifice number four.”

He met his friend’s gaze. “It’s a chance.”

“A hundred things could go wrong.”

Skye stared at him, her eyes alight with worry and misery. “Tighe’s right.”

“It may be our only chance. Can you unenthrall me once we get inside?”

“Not easily or quickly.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I had to open your mind to unenthrall you when I helped you escape from the cavern. Sex with an enchanted man isn’t quick, and Birik will know I’m back as soon as I walk
through the warding on the doors. I doubt I’ll be able to get you up and off before someone finds us. And I’ll have lost any way to pretend I’ve returned on my own. We’ll both wind up in chains and be of no use to anyone.”

“So the only way is for me to go in as your prisoner.”

Shackled. Again. Fury threatened to rage through his body at the thought of it, but he had to get in there, dammit. He had to save his men.

Yet his only chance at success was if Skye went with him to get him out of the shackles. He stared at her, memorizing every line of her face. If he failed, she’d go back to being a captive and slave to that monster.

Skye slid her hand into his. “I don’t like this plan, Paenther. But it may be the only one.”

He pulled her around and cupped her shoulders. “I can’t give you back to him.”

“He won’t kill me.” She reached for him, pulling his head down where she could kiss him. He let her, feeling the soft, tender brush of her lips before she pulled back. In her eyes he saw his future and his past.

“I know what will happen if you hold back and do nothing,” she said softly. “If you let Vhyper die when you might have been able to save him, you’ll die inside, little by little, until there’s nothing left.” She stroked his cheek. “I can’t be the cause of that. We can do this, Paenther. Trust me to do my part. I’ll give you the chance you need to do yours.”

“Tighe’s right. A hundred things could go wrong.”

“I know. But we don’t have a choice. Birik really might succeed in freeing Satanan tonight. Against that possibility, the risk to our lives means nothing.”

He gathered her close to his heart and held her, burying his nose in the scent of violets. All he wanted to do was keep her safe. He didn’t care about the risk to his own life.

Her hands slid over his back. “I’m stronger than I look, Paenther. No matter what happens, I’ll be okay.”

He couldn’t deny her strength. It was he who was hesitating. Because he couldn’t bear for anything to happen to her.

It dawned on him that he’d barely blinked at the prospect of intentionally letting a Mage witch enthrall and capture him. He trusted her. Completely. Implicitly.

Her safety was his only concern, and while it was huge, his little witch was right. There was no choice but to try.

And pray that fate was on their side tonight.

They were going to need all the help they could get.

“This is as far as we go.” Paenther stopped beside the very tree against which he’d first made love to Skye and pulled her into his arms. Night was falling fast, and the draden would be out soon. It was time to get into that cavern.

The thought of letting himself be enthralled again, of walking into the enemy’s lair blind, deaf,
witless
, turned his blood to ice. But his men were depending on him. He was their only hope.

Skye locked her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. He knew she was scared. Hell, he was terrified.
A hundred things could go wrong
. He was a man who survived on rigid control, yet he was relinquishing every ounce of it into another’s hands. He was a man who trusted few and had hated the Mage for centuries.

Yet he willingly placed his life and the fate of the Feral Warriors, if not the entire world, into the hands of the Mage witch in his arms. Amazingly, he did so without a qualm. She would do everything she could to help him pull this off.

What terrified him was that it wouldn’t be enough. That she wouldn’t be able to free him, and he’d never get a chance to fight. Every warrior expected to die in the midst of a blazing battle. It was the only way to go. The thought of dying like a fly trapped on flypaper, unable to save his friends, let alone himself, made his muscles tense with fury. The thought of being unable to save the woman he loved from the monster who had hurt her so many times nearly claimed his soul.

But he was out of options.

He buried his face in Skye’s fragrant hair and drew strength. “This is going to work,” he murmured against her temple. “Whatever you have to do, Beauty, get me free.”

She pulled back and looked up into his face. “I won’t fail you. I promise.”

Looking down into those blue-and-copper eyes, he saw his future. His world. And he knew that somehow, despite everything, he would find a way for them to stay together.

“I love you,” he said softly, falling head over tail all over again.

“And I love you.” Tears formed in her eyes. Doubts swam with the tears, but she didn’t voice them out loud. Instead, she pulled one of his hands
from her cheek and placed a kiss in his palm, the tears running free.

He knew what he had to do. There was only one way for her to enchant him and even if there wasn’t, he needed to make love to her at that moment more than he needed to breathe. One hand cupping the back of her head, he kissed her, the taste of her tears on his tongue.

Skye kissed him back with a fervor and a tenderness that filled him with love and raked at his heart.
He couldn’t lose her. He wouldn’t.
He loved her. How could that single emotion make him feel so powerless, yet at the same time fill him with the strength of the gods?

The passion that erupted every time they touched one another rushed over them, turning the kiss hot and needy. Paenther slanted his mouth over hers, needing to reach farther into her mouth with his tongue, needing to be one with her in every way possible.

He unfastened her jeans and helped her out of them and her panties, then slid his hand beneath her thighs as she opened for him. Her flesh was warm and soft, the core of her damp and ready. As much as he wanted to make proper love to her, they were out of time. He freed his erection then pulled her against him, pressing his cheek to hers.

“Hold on to me, Beauty,” he whispered against her ear, then lifted her. As she wrapped her bare legs around his waist, he pushed home, burying himself in her warmth, her love, in the only place
he wanted to spend eternity. His gaze locked with hers. Love blazed between them.

“I love you, warrior,” she said as he came. The veil of enchantment once more fell over his mind.

Skye straightened both their clothes, then led Paenther through the woods to the main entrance of the cavern. She could see no reason for subterfuge. Birik would know she was here soon enough. Her heart thudded until she thought she might be sick.

The smell of damp limestone and lightwick smoke greeted her, filling her with bitter memories as she led Paenther down the steep cavern stairs. If this failed, if after knowing freedom, she wound up trapped here again, her soul would shrivel and die. Then again, her heart would already be dead. Because the only way she’d be trapped here was if Paenther were no longer alive.

If he lived, he’d find a way to save her. She knew that.

A sentinel’s shout echoed off the stone, relaying the news of her return with a prisoner. The sound would surely call Birik to her in a heartbeat. The knowledge made her hands damp with sweat.

If only she had the powers of a television witch. She’d blink Paenther and the other Ferals out of there, then send one of Birik’s snakes to eat out his heart.

Her gaze caught a flash of white hair on the stairs below, and she knew he was coming for her. Her legs began to shake. She squeezed Paenther’s
hand tightly, gaining strength from the feel of his warm flesh against hers and his strong, masculine presence, even if there was nothing he could do to protect her.

As Birik neared, Vhyper close behind, part of her, the part of her that had fought him so stubbornly all those years ago, wanted to stare him down and refuse to quake in his presence. But her only chance of freeing these men depended on his believing nothing had changed. That she hadn’t changed.

Fortunately, acting fearful around him was all too easy. Unfortunately, it was no act at all.

The two men reached her, Vhyper towering over the smaller man, his bald head gleaming beneath the floating lightwicks.

Birik stopped three steps below her and stared up at her with curiosity and suspicion. “You’re back.”

Vhyper smiled, a cruel, smug smile. “Paenther might have been tricked once, but he’d never make the same mistake twice. He let you enchant him this time, didn’t he, little witch? He
wanted
back in here.”

Skye looked away, her pulse racing. “Yes.”

Birik lunged forward two steps and grabbed her jaw, squeezing until pain shot through her skull.

“What is his plan?”

Tears blinded her. “He wanted me to hide him until the enthrallment wore off so that he could find his friends and escape.”

She looked up at Vhyper, meeting his gaze.
his friends,” she added softly, praying Paenther was right and that the Feral’s soul still lived behind those eyes.

Vhyper snorted. “Hell of a way to hide him, parading him right through the front door.”

Skye looked away before either of them saw the lie in her eyes. “I knew I couldn’t hide him. I told him that, but he insisted I try anyway.”

Birik scowled. “Fool. Why would he ever think he could beat me?”

Vhyper chuckled. “Ferals are a stubborn lot. I told you he’d be back, didn’t I? Out of some misplaced sense of honor and justice, he thinks he owes me his life for my role in saving his years ago.”

Without warning, Birik backhanded her across the mouth. “Why did you escape?”

Skye pressed the back of her hand to her throbbing, bleeding lip. “I didn’t. He took me against my will.” The truth.

“You released him?”

“He came out of the enthrallment before I had him locked down.” A lie. He’d come out of the enthrallment buried deep inside her.

“You showed him a way out.”

“He forced me. He would have killed me otherwise.” Truthfully, it had been Birik, not Paenther, who’d forced her. By unleashing those Daemons on innocent people, he’d forced her to make some hard choices. Choices she would never regret.

Birik stroked her cheek. “Meek little mouse. And he forced you to come back here.”

“No. I offered to help him. I had to come back.” She allowed her fear to break in her voice. “I just want the punishments to stop. Please, Birik. Please. I never meant to thwart you. He forced me to leave, but I came back. And I brought him to you.”

“Who removed his shackles?”

“The Shaman.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it was close enough. And Vhyper was likely to believe it.

“I don’t really care why he’s here. Now that I have you both again, that blade will almost certainly open tonight. And nothing will be as it was before.”

Birik grabbed Paenther from her and motioned to two sentinels nearby. “Get rope and escort the enchantress into the forest,” he told them. “I want four deer, fully grown, tied and delivered to the Hall of Feasts at midnight. Do not let her out of your reach. Where there’s one Feral, there are likely to be more. Once she has the deer, lock them all in her cell until midnight with a guard at the door.”

He grabbed her jaw one more time until she was seeing stars. “You’ll not escape me again, Skye. If you try to thwart me in any way, I’ll have you begging me to give you to the Daemons just to end your torment.”

A moment later, she stared at Birik’s retreating back. His orders rang in her ears. She was to be locked in her cell until midnight. With no chance of finding Paenther. No chance of freeing the Ferals from their shackles until the very last moment.

A moment that might well be too late.

“Welcome to the party. Great rescue, Geronimo.”

Paenther fought his way out of the fog of enchantment, following the sound of Jag’s caustic voice. Slowly the mist parted, and he found himself in a small alcove in the cavern rock. He was standing upright, at least, but chained with his hands above his head. Beside him, chained in the same manner was Jag. And beside Jag, Foxx.

Foxx frowned at him. “Did you really come back here on purpose?”

Paenther met his gaze. “What do you think?”

“Superman to the rescue,” Jag drawled. “Couldn’t get the rest of the war party to join you, Cochise?”

Paenther growled low in his throat. “There’s only one way in, and that’s enthralled. And the only way Skye can enthrall is by opening a man’s mind.”

Jag grunted. “Couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else fucking her, could you?”

“No way in hell.” He tested the chains, struggling against them as he’d done a hundred times the last time he was here, but as before, they didn’t budge.

Being chained like this, with two others, brought back memories of those days in Ancreta’s dungeon. Vhyper, or Vincent, as he’d known him then, and Frederick, had kept up a steady stream of patter—most of it black humor. Paenther had never joined in—his personality had always been more serious—but they’d sometimes made him
smile with their antics, which in turn had made them chortle with glee.

Frederick shouldn’t have died.

He looked at the two men with him now, Foxx, whom he’d known a couple of years, and Jag, whom he’d known almost the entire time he’d been a Feral. Sometimes he wondered if he knew Jag at all.

Yet they were his brothers.

His only goal was to save their lives and Vhyper’s, and to get Skye to safety. To get them all out of this cavern alive. If he were able to reclaim the Daemon blade while he was at it, all the better. But the men were his reason for being here. Especially Vhyper.

“How’d the Mage get you?” he asked his companions.

Jag scowled. “The cub turned on me!”

“I did not!” Foxx shot back.

Paenther’s brows lowered as he looked from one to the other. “What happened?”

Jag frowned. “We were running to the grocery for Pink when Mr. Intuition here got a feeling there were Mage in the neighborhood. Of course, he didn’t tell me why we were driving down Jefferson until we were on them. Two Mage. I called it in, we shifted and took them on. As we were taking care of them, two more showed up. Then suddenly fox-face forgot who he was supposed to be fighting, upped his size until he was bigger than my jaguar, and went for my neck. The Mage slapped shackles on both of us while Foxx had
me pinned, and the next thing I knew, I was here.”

“I didn’t attack you,” Foxx said sullenly.

Jag’s jaw dropped. “Are you trying to say your fangs
accidentally
went through my neck? Do you think I’m a fucking moron?”

Paenther’s gaze went from one to the other, not liking what he was hearing. Not liking it at all. “What do you remember, Cub?”

The kid met his gaze, a mix of anger and confusion in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have attacked him!”

“But you don’t remember.”

Foxx looked away. “No.”

Paenther looked at Jag and saw the same disquiet in his eyes as he felt himself. “They enthralled you, Foxx. That’s the only explanation for it.”

The cub’s head swung around. “In my
animal
form? Without ever touching me?” He scoffed. “That’s impossible.”

“Do you have a better explanation for what happened?”

Foxx struggled against his bonds, the chains rattling on the stone. “No! But how? The Mage can’t enthrall us through our animals. Everyone knows that.”

“The Mage can do fucking anything they want these days,” Jag grumbled.

“Maybe not.” Paenther looked at Jag. “They didn’t enthrall
you
.”

Foxx scowled. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying Zaphene’s control over you may have extended beyond what we realized.”

“I’m their puppet, now?”

“I don’t know, Cub.” Paenther and Jag exchanged a look of foreboding. If they could no longer trust Foxx, they were in deep shit.