Rapture Untamed (24 page)

He shifted into his animal and leaped at the nearest man, ripping his throat out with his jaguar’s fero
cious jaws. As his mouth filled with blood, he felt the fiery pain of a knife stabbing deeply into his hindquarters. With a furious growl, he turned and lunged at his second attacker, biting off his hand. In an instant, he shifted back into his human form, grabbed his now one-handed attacker by his good arm, and threw him into the waiting vortex. Without hesitation, he kicked the Mage whose throat he’d just ripped out in, too, before he could recover.

Bending double, hands on his knees, he sucked in air with shallow, rapid breaths. Not only did he feel winded, but his hip was killing him, and his shoulder throbbed, numb and achy. Olivia’s feeding was starting to get to him. The more lives there were for her to feed from, the less she took from any one. But he wasn’t the only one dispatching Mage right and left.

And he was too close to her.

The Earth had set up an ungodly howl, melding her fury with the screaming of the vortex until he could barely hear himself think.

His gaze sought out his brothers. They were all moving with less speed, less animal grace than normal. They were all tiring. As he watched, one of the humans fell unconscious. But, dammit, the Mage weren’t affected by her feeding at all. They weren’t out there long enough. In twos and threes, they ran back to the brick building as reinforcements took their places.

One of the Daemons floated over the vortex where the Ferals couldn’t reach him, then flew in to slice a chunk out of one of the human male’s faces. His scream melded with that of the Earth’s as the blood gushed from the wound.

Goddess, they had to find a way to kill these things. If only the Daemons would grow weak from Olivia’s feeding instead of the humans and Ferals.

A second black cloud erupted on the far side of the vortex between Lyon and Kougar. Another Daemon down.

Jag straightened, struggling against the growing weakness just as another Mage came at him, a knife in each hand. He was so through with this shit. As the Mage dove at him, Jag ducked and rolled, using the sentinel’s own momentum to send him flying into the glowing hell pit.

For the moment he was free of Mage attackers. He had to stop Olivia, though goddess, he wanted to do anything but that. He ran back to her, tried to get through the warding, and was knocked back yet again. The only way he could get through the damned wards was in animal form, but the shifting was draining him as fast as Olivia was.

No choice.

He shifted back into his cat, grabbed his knife in his mouth, and ran through the barrier, then dropped it at her feet and slowly turned back into a man.

“Jag. Quit being sentimental! You must rip out my heart.”

He cupped her face in one hand, feeling a sudden, hard jolt as he took all her feeding onto himself. “Sentimental, am I? I’d as soon rip out my own heart, Liv.”

“Let go! I’m feeding only from you!”

His hand dropped away, but he stared into her eyes. “I love you.”

Tears sprang to her own. “Jag, just do it. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

“I know.” Before she weakened him to the point he couldn’t lift the knife, he had to kill her. “Goddess, Olivia, how am I supposed to live without you? You’ve given me back my life. My heart.” And now she would rip them both from him again when she died.

At his own hand.

He was a Feral first. And if he didn’t stop her, and soon, they would all die. But he wasn’t giving up without one more try.

Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the death that had to come. The thought of what this would do to Jag tore her heart out of her chest even before his knife touched her. He thought he loved her. Oh, Jag.

But instead of the bite of cold steel, she felt his hand once more cup her cheek.

Her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

His tired gaze bored into hers, a flash of devilment in their dark depths. “You turning into a quitter, Red?”

Her temper snapped. “I’m fighting it as hard as I can!” But she saw what he was doing. Making her mad. Giving her the strength to fight harder. “You want me to kick your ass, Feral?”

His mouth tightened, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Give me all you’ve got, Liv. Don’t you dare give up. We’re going to stop it. Together. The damned Mage are not going to win.”

“Jag, I’m out of ideas.”

He dropped his hands, but stared at her with eyes lit by a fierce determination. “Can you feel the lives individually like you did when you fed from the draden last night?”

“Yes, but not as well. And I can’t control the feeding. I’ve tried!”

“What about the reverse feed? When you fed me?”

She stared at him, her mouth dropping open. “I forgot. I didn’t think…” With a sudden, desperate hope, she found his life force, closed her eyes and willed herself to feed him. Nothing happened. She was too locked into the feeding to reverse it.

Her eyes flew open. “It’s not working!”

He swayed.

“Jag, you’ve got to get away from me. You’re too close!”

With a hand, he waved her words away, but his motion
was slow and lethargic. “Liv, concentrate.” He slapped his hand awkwardly, as if he were drunk. “Inside me, I feel you. In my mind…I see this glow, this light, and I know it’s you. It’s the start of a mating bond.”

His gaze bored into hers, at once achingly soft and hard as granite. “I don’t know if you’ll ever feel it. Goddess knows, I’ve never given you any reason to love me. But try, Liv. Right this moment, try to love me. Try to find that bond, then reach me through it.”

“Jag, you’re endangering all of your lives. I know how hard it’s going to be on you, but you have to stop me. You can’t feel guilty for it.”

“I’m not trying to save you because I feel guilty. I’m trying to save you because I love you.” His gaze snapped, as did his words. “Find that link, Olivia, now! For both of us.” His eyes blazed with an emotion that burrowed deep inside her, lighting all the dark places, filling her with an incredible warmth, and igniting a matching emotion within her.

Love. It blazed within her, shoring up the crumbled mass of her heart. And deep in her mind, a light flared. A glow. A glow she knew was Jag.

Yes, she loved him. Goddess, she loved him.

With the gentlest of touches, his fingers whispered over her cheek. “I’ll never survive without my heart.” The anguish in his eyes tore her in two. He stumbled back, then forward again. “I’m losing it, Liv. I can’t wait any longer.” He bent down and rose again, slowly, a knife in his hand.

When he looked up at her, tears filled his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

As her heart broke, love for him rushed up from the depths of her soul, filling her chest, her mind.

Jag lifted the knife as if it weighed half a ton, positioning the tip just beneath her rib cage.

That soft glow inside her mind burst into a flaming inferno as she poured her love into it. Into Jag. And something happened. With a shock, she realized she wasn’t only pouring her love into him, but her life force as well. She was feeding him!

“Jag.”

The knife dropped. His head lifted slowly, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re doing it. I’m already feeling stronger.”

“Yes.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

He grabbed her face and kissed her hard, then pulled back and swiped the moisture from his own cheeks, his eyes blazing with love and triumph. “I knew you could do it.” He kept hold of her, once more letting her feed only from him. “If you can still see the individual life forces, can you help the others?”

She peered past him to what little of the battle his big body didn’t block. Lyon had lost an arm and was battling two Mage at once. Neither Wulfe nor Kougar looked to be in any better shape. They were fighting back to back, seven Mage surrounding them.

She focused on them and Paenther, sending energy directly to them with ease.

“It’s working!” She met his gaze with a grin. “Now let go of me and let me feed from everyone. I’ll weaken the Daemon and the Mage, but feed your men.”

“And the humans.”

She nodded. “And the humans.”

Jag gave her another hard, fast kiss. “I need to untie you.”

“No. I’m connected to those orbs. If you untie me, there’s no telling what will happen. Leave me here. Rejoin the battle, Jag. Your men need you, now.”

“How do I disengage you from the orbs?” Already, his voice sounded back to normal strength.

“Destroy them. It’s the only way.”

“I’m on it.” With a grin that was at once fierce and breathtaking with sheer joy, he turned from her and grabbed up several knives that had slipped from now-dead hands. Standing at the edge of the glowing vortex, he threw the knives at the orbs, one after the other, but they hit and bounced off, knife after knife falling into the screaming void.

As he took off at a run toward the battle, she thought she heard him say, “Where are Delaney and her guns when we need them?”

Olivia’s heart followed him, and she poured love and strength through that budding bond between them, willing him to stay safe. Helping him the only way she could as he fought to claim victory and save them all.

The other Ferals had the Mage down to a manageable seven by the time Jag reached them. The winds howled, nature’s fury a living thing as lightning slashed from the sky, the bolts glowing as red as the vortex. And as if that weren’t enough, the sky began to fling stinging pellets of rain.

“Get the Daemon, Jag!” Lyon called.

Jag lifted a hand in acknowledgment, his gaze zeroing in on the last of the three creatures as it floated across the pit, heading for another of the humans tied to posts ringing the swirling chasm. From what Jag was able to make out, two of the four bound humans were already dead or unconscious, though neither appeared
to be badly injured. He wondered if Olivia’s feeding had saved them from a worse fate.

Of the two who remained conscious, one was missing half his face and clearly danced with death. It was the other, a female with only a single, shallow slash across her cheekbone that the Daemon headed toward now. The female watched the Daemon’s approach with terror in her eyes, but no screams. Humans didn’t see the fiends until they’d been cut by one, and thanks to the wound on her cheek, this human had already had her eyes opened. Her expression said she saw the monster who toyed with her, a monster who promised a terrifying, painful death.

Jag skirted the vortex to intercept that pain-feeding bastard, the rain starting to come down hard. As the Daemon approached his human target, Jag eased behind the tied female, waiting for the creature to clear the vortex before he took him on. Above the Daemon, the orbs spit and glowed.

“Easy,” he told the woman. “I’m going to get him.”

When the Daemon didn’t change directions at Jag’s arrival, the Feral eased around the post, out to the edge of the abyss, ready to attack before the Daemon did.

“Jag!”

The warning, carried by the howling wind, came too late. He felt one blade bury itself into his side as a pair of hands shoved at his back, ripping his balance out from under him.

Mage. Where in the hell did they keep coming from?

With furious desperation, he tried to turn, to regain his balance, but the ground between his feet was slick with rain, and he failed. There was no going back, only forward. He was going in.

But even as the hopeless thought registered, the Daemon drew near. In a move he would later decide had been born of pure madness, he vaulted up and out, straight for the Daemon. Hooking his good arm around the fiend’s neck, he swung onto its back and held on, knowing that to let go meant a one-way ticket into a swirling red death.

The Daemon cried out, anger in that hideous voice, as he shot out over the center of the vortex, bucking wildly. Right under the orbs. Hot damn.

But Jag’s right arm was still half-numb from the venom. And while he held on with his left, he wasn’t sure he had enough strength in his wounded arm to wield the knife still clutched in his hand. Dammit, he had to.

Squawking and bucking, the Daemon slashed at the arm Jag held on with, ripping through flesh and muscle, clipping the bone.

Jag yelled with pain and fury. If the Daemon took his left arm, it was all over. Desperation was an electric current inside him, but his nearly numb arm felt like lead as he lifted it, shoulder height, then higher. Pull
ing on the strength slowly pouring into him from the woman he loved, he shoved everything he had into an upward thrust, aiming for the closest orb. And missed.

Dammit, dammit, dammit.

Black ropes of wet Daemon hair slapped him in the face. Sweat began to run down his temples, mixing with the raindrops. Another claw slashed through his forearm in a different place, stripping off another chunk of flesh as the Daemon continued to thrash.

Jag bit off another yell and tried again. He. Could. Not. Fail.

Thrusting every ounce of his strength into his wounded arm, he made a hard upward stab and caught one of the orbs this time, shattering it in a flash of brilliant light.

Thank the goddess.

Deep inside his head, Olivia screamed. His heart stopped for one terrible moment, then began to pound again as he felt that glow inside him, her glow, brighten. Tearing her free might hurt her, but it was a necessary evil.

As the Daemon whirled in fury, Jag stabbed at a second orb, shattering it, too.

Again, Olivia screamed. Again, her glow grew brighter.

One more. Just one more.

The Daemon clawed at his arm, this time digging deep into the bone. Jag felt it snap and knew he was out of time. Sweat rolled down his back, his guts cramping
as he held on with the last of his strength. Clutching Olivia with his mind and heart, he thrust his knife skyward one last time before he lost his grip.

The final orb shattered. The Earth rumbled as if preparing to split asunder.

His grip on the Daemon started to give, and he knew he only had seconds. Dammit, if he was going down, this sucker was going with him. Remembering Hawke’s last words, he tried to dig his knife into the Daemon’s throat to carve out his heart, and failed. His half-numb arm wasn’t strong enough to get the angle he needed.

With a feral growl, he tossed the knife into the void, drew his claws, and sank them deep into the Daemon’s throat, succeeding with brute strength where finesse had eluded him. His fingers closed around the hot, wet, pulsing mass of Daemon heart, and he yanked hard, tearing it loose, and sending the creature to hell in a puff of smoke.

As gravity took over, and Jag began to fall, he thought of Olivia, how he’d never get the chance to prove to her that he’d heard her. That he’d changed.

He’d never get the chance to show her how much he loved her.

But only a few racing heartbeats later, Jag landed on the ground with a jarring thud. As his knees absorbed the impact, his mind assimilated the astounding fact that he was standing on wet grass, that the darkness
had lifted, the light changing from a red glow against darkness to rainy daylight.

With the destruction of the orbs, the vortex had closed.

The wind still whipped with hurricane fierceness, driving stinging rain against his naked flesh, but the Daemons were gone. And even as his gaze found Olivia, his brothers dispatched the last of the Mage. The battle was over.

Olivia smiled weakly, her hair lying soaked across her cheeks. She looked as beaten as he felt. As he started toward her, he found himself suddenly surrounded by the other Ferals.

Kougar clapped him on the back with a seriously un-Kougar-like enthusiasm. “Unbelievable,” he shouted above the wind and rain.

Paenther thrust out his torn hand, grasping Jag’s numb forearm. “I wish I’d had a camera. I’d like to see a replay of that flight.”

Wulfe shook his big head, flinging raindrops. “Where the hell did you learn to drive a Daemon?”

Jag tried to laugh, but his heart was too heavy. Tighe and Hawke were gone.

Lyon clasped his arm last, meeting his gaze. “Well done. And you got Olivia to stop feeding.”

Something inside Jag froze, his gaze shooting to her, watching as her bright head dropped as if she’d fallen
asleep. Goddess. That soft buzz in his blood…It was her life force draining away.

“She’s feeding us! She learned how to reverse it, but she’s not stopping. It’s going to kill her.”

Jag took off at a run, Lyon close behind. Over his shoulder, Lyon shouted to the others. “Secure the area before we free the humans! I want no more Mage surprises.”

Jag reached Olivia, no warding barring his way this time, and he pushed the wet hair off her face and cupped her cheek. “Liv, you have to shut it off! Quit feeding us.” But she couldn’t hear him. Couldn’t comply. She was out cold.

Lyon moved behind her, drew claws and cut through her bindings. Jag caught her as she fell forward, hauling her against him with the better of his two arms and sank to the ground, pulling her into his lap until her precious head lay against his chest.

“Olivia, wake up! You have to shut if off.” A wave of pain tore through his mending limb as the bone reknit, but that pain was nothing compared to that of his heart. “Olivia, please.” But it was too late. She was past waking, slipping away, and he was powerless to stop her.

Jag looked into his leader’s gaze, feeling more helpless than he had since he’d watched his mother burn all those years ago.

“I don’t know how to save her, Roar. I have to save her, and I don’t know how.”

Understanding and sympathy filled Lyon’s amber eyes. “She’s your mate.”

“How am I supposed to live without her?”

“Maybe you won’t have to.” The Chief of the Ferals shot to his feet, took a step back, and shifted into his lion.
Vhyper, bring Kara. ASAP!

He shifted back to a man and knelt beside Jag and Olivia once more. “Tell me what happened. How did she strengthen us? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Jag squinted against the rain as he looked into the curious face of his chief. “The Daemon energy gave her the ability to direct her feeding, or reverse it. The spell she was under wouldn’t let her cut off the feeding, but she finally managed to send it back to us, to feed us. But now she’s locked into that cycle. She’s no longer feeding from us, but she’s still giving us the last of her energy. She’s giving us her life.”

Lyon watched him. “She’s a powerful weapon in the wrong hands.”

Jag’s teeth clenched. “Roar…”

“Or the right hands. The Mage tried to use her against us, yet through her own considerable will, she turned the tables on them. A hell of a weapon. A hell of a woman.”

Jag bent over her, pressing his lips to her hair. “Don’t leave me, Liv. Don’t leave me.”

He barely noticed when Paenther joined them.

“The place is empty,” the panther shifter said. “The Mage have definitely been using it, though. There was an interesting clear cage in the basement that still echoes of energy. The other Ferals are freeing the humans and clearing their minds. One’s dead. Two need medical attention, but their injuries aren’t too severe. They should survive.”

“Lyon!” Kara’s clear voice rang out over the yard.

Jag lifted his head moments later as Kara flew into Lyon’s arms and Skye rushed to Paenther. Behind them followed a pale, glassy-eyed Delaney. Goddess, she’d lost her mate. Just as he was about to lose the woman he’d have claimed as his own. Empathy for her embedded itself in his heart.

Vhyper and Ewan brought up the rear.

Kara looked at Lyon’s missing arm with a mix of horror and resignation. “It’ll grow back, right?”

“In an hour, it’ll be good as new.”

She sighed. “Good.” Her expression turned instantly focused. “Why do you need me?”

“Olivia helped us. I’d like to return the favor.” His hand cupped the back of her head. “Call the radiance, Kara, but only touch Jag.”

Jag’s gaze jerked to his chief, a flicker of hope flaring to life inside him.

“No promises,” Lyon warned him. “But we’re going to try.”

Kara lowered herself to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of Jag, her gaze soft but determined. “I’ll pull the radiance first, then touch you for just a moment. I don’t want to electrocute her.”

Jag took a deep, desperate breath. “Help her, Kara.”

In a flash, she called the radiance. Instantly, her skin began to glow as if she’d swallowed the sun, and it now lit the day from within her. Slowly, carefully, she touched Jag’s bare foot with her fingers, then drew back.

“Anything?”

He closed his eyes, focusing, fiercely trying to sense a difference, a miracle. But try as he might, he felt nothing. Olivia continued to give up her life.

“No change,” he said, his voice choked.

Kara touched him again, this time curling her glowing hand around his foot and holding on.

“Now?” she asked.

“No.” He felt that glow inside him that was Olivia, sensed it wavering and sputtering, on the verge of winking out. His grip on her tightened, the desperation a storm inside him. He couldn’t lose her!

She needed Kara’s energy, but a direct shot would kill her as surely as a lightning bolt. Only the Ferals, through their armbands, were able to channel that kind of power.

Through their armbands…

Jag’s back went ramrod straight, adrenaline pumping
through his blood, riding a surge of hope. He began issuing commands.

“Kara, move back. Paenther, take Olivia for me.”

“What are you doing?” Lyon demanded.

“What I need to do, Roar. She needs radiance, but she’s not getting enough through me. She needs a direct shot.” As Paenther lifted Olivia off his lap, Jag leaped to his feet and turned to Lyon. His armband curled around the only arm he could use. He needed help.

“Get this armband off me, Roar.”

Tawny eyebrows lowered over hard amber eyes. “No. Kara is not touching a life-stealer directly.”

A growl rumbled out of Jag’s throat. “She’s not stealing. She’s giving her life to us.”

Beside him, Kara rose to her feet and pressed her glowing palm to her mate’s chest. “I love you, Lyon, but don’t keep me from doing my job.”

Lyon’s hand covered hers. “She’s dangerous. And she’s not one of yours.”

“If Jag loves her, she’s not only one of mine, she’s one of ours.”

Lyon’s jaw turned to stone. For one throbbing moment, Jag heard nothing but the pounding of his own pulse in his ears, the blood turning molten in his veins.

With a harsh exhale of air, Lyon scowled. “I can’t remove your armband. You’re the only one who can do it.”

Jag swallowed back his anger, realizing Lyon hadn’t outright refused. “By the time I heal enough to be able to take it off myself, Olivia will be dead.”

Lyon shook his head, as if to himself, then reached out and grabbed Jag’s mending arm, lifting it in a fiery rush of pain. Curling Jag’s own fingers around the silver, he pulled the band loose.

The jaguar spirit urged him on. Deep inside him, Jag could feel the animal’s desperation to save Olivia, every bit as strong as his own.

As he held her, Lyon slid the jaguar-headed band around Olivia’s arm, squeezing it tight so that it wouldn’t fall off. In Jag’s mind, he felt the jaguar nodding its head up and down, up and down.

Jag took Olivia from Paenther, cradling her against his chest, and sank to the ground.