A Love Untamed (25 page)

As if he heard her thoughts, the small fox turned to her.
Pet, I don't want you using your sword unless it's for self-defense. Not yet. Promise me.

The thought of sitting by while her companions fought disgusted the warrior in her. But she was still badly shaken by her emotional implosion, and the last thing any of them needed was a repeat of that event.

All right,
she told him. And she was relieved because that old, old part of her, the Ceraph, recoiled from the thought of killing.

Are you still a dead aim with your knives, Castin?
Fox asked.

I am, but I only have one.

Keep an eye on me, then. Take out the third when I go after the second.
Then, without further talk, the small fox trotted across the clearing, diving into the bushes not far from where the Mage approached. Two of the sentinels walked side by side, but a third trailed them by several yards.

As Melisande watched, Fox shifted directly behind the trailing man, covered his mouth, and yanked him into the bushes. Moments later, the small fox trotted out of the bushes, following the remaining pair. A bolt of lightning tore across the clear blue sky.

Out of the corner of her eye, Melisande saw Castin twirling his knife between his fingers. She was still reeling from his words, his claim that he'd never betrayed her, that he hadn't even known what happened to her. All the years of her captivity, he'd been a slave to the wolverines.

And she believed him. Not once had she seen him in all the time she was a captive though she'd cursed his name often and loudly. So much hatred. Wasted. If there was a good side to all of this, at least she'd found him when she couldn't mist and couldn't easily kill him. Because, apparently, he'd never deserved to die.

Deep inside, something eased, righting itself. For so long, she'd castigated herself for being duped, for believing him a good man. Perhaps she hadn't been wrong at all.

As she watched, Fox suddenly shifted and took one of the Mage from behind. At that exact instant, Castin threw his knife, burying it in the other sentinel's chest.

Castin turned to her, motioned with his head for her to join him. Together, they ran to Fox, and as dark clouds rolled in overhead and began spilling rain, pulled the two dead Mage into the bushes, where they wouldn't be spotted by their brethren. The sudden deluge ensured that any trace of blood would soon be washed away.

Melisande rubbed her chest, right over her heart where it was beginning to ache. She'd thought killing Castin, completing her vengeance, would return her to her cold, unfeeling state. Now she knew that refuge was lost to her. There was no way to go back. Only forward. But to what?

Who was she if not the emotionless warrior or the kind Ceraph? As both of those women, she'd had a place, a purpose. She had neither of those anymore, not as long as her Ceraph self balked at the need to kill.

Fox curved his hand around the back of her neck, a protective, tender gesture that melted something inside her and reminded her how much she'd missed when she couldn't feel. No, she didn't want to go back to that, not really. What she wanted was to be able to continue to do her job as Ariana's second. And she wanted . . . Fox.

He glanced at her, a wealth of affection and caring in his eyes. Love for him welled up until she feared it would overflow. Yes, she wanted to be with Fox, for as long as he wanted her in return.

Assuming they made it off this mountain alive.

Once the bodies were hidden, Fox began to lead the way between the brush and the rock, disappearing suddenly. A moment later, Melisande knew why. He'd found the tunnel.

As the three ducked inside, Fox turned to her, stroking her cheek. “Wait here. Hide, Mel. Don't try to defend the entrance, just hide.”

She scowled at him. “I'm not helpless, Feral. Besides, you need me. What if you get stuck in your animal again?”

“I don't want you in danger.”

In his eyes she saw a softness, a caring, that stirred the feelings for him that had been growing within her until she thought they would burst from her chest, too big to contain. She would protect him as he sought to protect her. Because if his animal spirit shut him down inside Inir's stronghold, he was a dead man.

She used his worry for her against him. “Do you really think I'm safer out here?
Alone?
”

She knew the moment she had him. With a sigh of resignation, he nodded. “All right.”

The three of them started into the tunnel together. As Fox led the way, Castin pulled a slim flashlight out of the pocket of his pants and turned it on. His other hand retrieved his knife and he began weaving it, twirling it, between his fingers, faster and faster, the muscles in his arms tensing.

Melisande's trouble radar leaped. The Castin she'd once known had always been calm and reserved.

“Fox?”

The name had barely left her lips when Castin lifted his knife and aimed it for Fox's back, for his heart.

Chapter Eighteen

F
ox heard the alarm in Melisande's voice and whirled, turning just as Castin swayed, grasping the wall, his knife falling from his hand.

“I can't . . .” the new Feral gasped. “The pull . . .” Bending down, he snatched up his knife, turned, and strode swiftly back to the cave's entrance. Standing in the rain, he arched his back, taking deep pulls of air.

Fox followed him, Melisande close on his heels. “What in the hell just happened?” His gaze went to Melisande but it was Castin who answered.

“I almost attacked you. It was as if something inside me took over.”

“The darkness,” Fox muttered. “It's trying to claim you.”
Bloody hell.
If Castin turned on them, they were sunk.

“I felt it building as I walked into the tunnel, like steam rising inside of me, about to explode.

Fox eyed him intently. “And how do you feel now?”

“Fine. The pressure's gone.”

Which gave Fox two choices. Leave the male here and hope to hell he didn't lead the sentinels into the tunnel after them. Or kill him.

The thought sickened him. He really thought it likely that Castin was the best of his line, the one meant to be chosen. From the story he'd told of the night of Melisande's capture, he'd been the only one the chieftain had disposed of, the only one of the cheetahs who would have fought to save the Ilinas instead of torture them. Then again, a lot of cheetahs had been born since then. And those who'd tortured the Ilinas had died at Melisande's hand a long time ago.

Castin might be the best of his line or he might be a hell of a fine liar. Fox couldn't be sure.

But he couldn't take the man's life. Especially not now, not when Melisande was still absorbing the probability that Castin had never betrayed her at all.

“Stay here and wait for us,” he told the male who might one day become the cheetah Feral. As Castin handed his flashlight to Fox, Fox nodded his thanks. Then together, he and Melisande headed back into the tunnel. As she slipped her hand in his, as his fingers closed tight around hers, his animal sighed with relief. He flicked on the flashlight and, following Sly's memories, led the way into the narrow passage through the rock, a passage barely wide enough for them to walk side by side.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” he asked her, unable to hold back the question any longer.

Melisande snorted softly. “I have no idea what I feel for him anymore. It may take me weeks, or even years, to sort it out. Would it bother you if I did?”

“Aye.”

She cut him a look that was almost coy. A coy Melisande. Who'd have thought it possible?

“I have feelings for you, too, Feral. In fact, I can honestly say that what I feel for you is a hundred times stronger than anything I ever felt for Castin.”

The pressure eased inside him. “I'm glad.” He grinned, delighted when she smiled back. Pulling her close, he kissed her hair. “I don't want you to leave when this is over. I never want you to leave.”

She sighed, melting against him just a fraction. “I don't think I could, Feral. You're becoming annoyingly important to me.”

He kissed her hair again, grinning. “I'm glad.”

They came to a long, stone staircase rising into the dark. As they started up, he released her hand. “I'm going to try to find Kara.” He shifted into his fox, then, climbing on four paws, called to Kara, opening his mind so that Melisande would hear as well.

Kara?
If she was in the fortress, she should be close enough to hear. If she wasn't . . .

Yes?
Kara replied excitedly.
Who is this?

Fox sent a prayer of thanksgiving winging to the goddess.
Fox.

Fox! You're here?

Aye. Hidden. Where are you, sweetheart?

In a jail cell deep beneath the castle. Lyon's not with you.
It wasn't a question. If Lyon were within communication distance, he'd have already spoken to her, they both knew that.
Is he okay?

Last I saw him, he was fine. Physically.

Thank God.

He's with Kougar and Wulfe. I have Melisande with me. One of the new Ferals, Castin, is waiting for us outside. We had a hell of a time reaching this stronghold, but we're inside now.

He remained in his animal, engaging his keener fox senses as he listened for sound of Mage. Melisande stroked his fur as she climbed beside him, pleasing him immensely. At the top of the stairs, they followed the passage, side by side, as it wound through the rock. The scent of the air changed, growing more damp and smelling of mildew. Far in the distance, he could make out the faint rumble of voices. They were at least a couple of levels away. Nothing close.

Finally, ahead, he saw a faint glow of light and knew they'd found the entrance into the underground prisons where Sly had come out. He'd seen that much in the vision though little more. Hopefully, the Mage never knew how Sly had gotten inside their stronghold. With any luck, they hadn't barred the passage from the inside any more than they had the outside.

Following the path to the light, Fox sniffed, scenting no one close. In a spray of lights, he shifted back to human, then bent low and peered through the decorative grillwork that hid the passage, confirming with his eyes what his animal senses had already told him.

Another flashback hit him out of nowhere, hard and fast, his animal helping him once more as he showed him Sly being led through a passage, seeing the grillwork through which he'd stolen into the castle as he was led past it and down two more passages to a bank of cells. Sly had watched it all through the eyes of the enchanted, his will no longer his own.

Fox came back to himself to the feel of Melisande's soft hand against his cheek, his animal spirit leaping with joy at her touch, loving her. In another part of his mind, he heard the snarl, but knew it for the darkness it was. He grabbed her against him, kissing her soundly.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Another flashback. My animal's trying to help us. I think I know how to reach Kara.” But he needed to know something first. Releasing Melisande, he shifted back into his animal.

Kara, is there anyone there with you? Any Mage in the vicinity at all?

I'm not sure, Fox, but I don't think so. My cell door is locked. I don't know where they keep the key.

We'll free you, Radiant. Never fear.

Fox . . . I'm not well. I've brought two more new Ferals into their animals, and it's taken so much out of me that I can barely stand.

Have they hurt you?
He growled low.

No, not really. It's just the ritual that drains me so badly. I may need help.

I have strong arms, Kara.

He shifted back to human, then turned to Melisande, reaching for her hand.

She shook her head, as if reading his mind. “Don't even think about asking me to stay here. We're safer together, and you know it.”

“Unless we get caught.”

Her eyes flashed. “We're in this together, Feral.”

He grinned at her suddenly and pulled her close for a quick kiss. “Is that a promise?”

To his surprise, the look she gave him was as deep as the sea and filled with an emotion he hardly dared credit. She reached up, stroking his jaw with her palm. His breath caught as he waited for her words, but all she said was, “Let's get Kara.”

Carefully, silently, he removed the grill and slipped into the empty corridor, then motioned for her to follow. Replacing the grill, he led the way to the right. If he shifted, he could probably follow Kara's scent, but he couldn't risk the darkness in his animal barring him from shifting back, not out in the open like this.

Sweat broke out on his brow. Somewhere above sat Inir, the most dangerous immortal alive. A bastard who, if they couldn't stop him, would free the most vicious immortal who'd ever lived, Satanan, turning the Earth into a living hell.

Hand in hand, Fox and Melisande made their way through the corridors, following the path his animal spirit had shown him. But as they approached an intersection with a second corridor, the magic swept through him yet again, forcing him into his fox, forcing him onto his belly on the cold stone floor.

Frustration and fury roared through his muscles, the fox spirit crying out inside his head, but he couldn't move. He'd been shut down. Again.

Melisande fell to her knees beside him, sliding both hands into his fur, calling up the warmth. And while his animal leaped at the healing gift, Fox felt no easing of the invisible chains this time. Just as the darkness had grown stronger in Castin as he'd breached the stronghold's walls, so, too, had the darkness within himself.

The sound of voices and footsteps heading toward them from the cross corridor had him whimpering with fury, frantic to shift back.

Go, pet! Someone's coming. Go back to the tunnel, back to Castin, and get out of here!

By the sound of the voices, he guessed he had a minute, maybe two, before the pair—and he was fairly certain there were only two—reached the intersection of the corridors and saw him.

“No,” she whispered, pressing her hands more firmly against his back and head.
I'm not leaving you.

Melisande's warming gift ran through his body, his animal spirit leaping up to accept it, but the darkness refused to let him go.

As the voices grew louder, closer, he became crazed with the need to save her.
Mel, go. Please go.

She shook her head, her eyes gleaming with determination.
I can take them.

Mel . . .

Her eyes filled with an emotion that could only be love, and she kissed his head.
I'd give my life for you, Feral.

He prayed she wasn't about to do just that.

M
elisande rose from beside Fox, pulled her knives, and moved to the corner, pressing her back against the wall where she would stay hidden from the approaching Mage until the last moment. Her heart pounded in her chest, perspiration rolled in rivulets down her back as she eyed Fox, lying on the floor, a giant fox trapped by the darkness that had infected his animal spirit. If she failed, he'd die. Or worse.

She eyed his location, deciding he was far enough out of the line of sight that she could wait until she saw the sentinels out of the corner of her eye before she attacked.

Her gaze met the animal's, Fox's, the intensity of emotion in his eyes leaping at her, wrapping around her, filling her with strength.

Deep inside, her old self trembled at the thought of killing again, then sighed, giving up the fight . . . no,
joining
it. Because there was no way in hell that
any
part of her would let Fox die when she might be able to save him. When she loved him.

She would never kill someone who didn't need to die. Not now, at least. Her heart clenched at what she'd done to Julianne. She'd acted so coldly, but the danger to the Ilina race if word of their existence had leaked had been extreme. When it did finally leak, thanks to Kougar, the Mage poison master had attacked immediately and nearly killed them all. Their survival had been a near thing, and only due to Kougar's help. Killing Julianne's parents had been cold, yes, but not wrong.

The hardest thing to live with had always been the deaths of her ninety-six sisters, and for that she would forever feel the deepest remorse. But as Fox had said, she'd never meant for it to happen. She'd been wrong to go to the Mage for help, but she'd had no reason to think he'd turn on her. She couldn't possibly have conceived of it.

As the terrible guilt lifted some of its debilitating weight from her shoulders, her world righted itself a little bit more. Deep inside, she felt a sigh as the battle she'd been waging against herself drained away. Ceraph and warrior joined together as one.

As the footsteps drew near, Melisande tensed for battle, her hand tight around the hilt of her sword. Taking a deep, slow breath, she calmed her mind, drawing on millennia of experience. Her mind clear of the fury, her compassion once more in good working order, she saw battle for what it was. A necessity. In this moment, it was the only way to save the man she loved.

Out of the corner of her eye, the Mage came into view and turned her way. There would be no attacking them from behind, as she'd hoped, but for one instant, she had the element of surprise and she took it.

Calling on her warrior's instincts and experience, she attacked with everything she had. By the time the Mage saw her, she was already swinging. One head rolled and she spun toward the other. The second Mage was strong and skilled and dodged her blows, spinning to catch her in the thigh. But she refused to go down. Fox's life depended on her winning this fight, and she wasn't about to lose. Instead, she rolled, chopped off one of his hands, then launched herself on his back, grabbing his forehead, pulling his head back, and slicing her blade across his throat once, twice . . . his head came off in her hands.

As the second sentinel collapsed, she leaped free with a shuddering breath and a surge of triumph. Dropping the head, she ran to Fox.

Nice job, pet.
But the eyes that watched her held worry.

She shoved her bloody hands into his fur, determined to free him from the chains of the darkness this time. As Fox watched her, as she pulled on the energy of her gift, she smiled at him.

“I've had a little practice,” she murmured, then smiled. “Five thousand years.”

Love shone in his eyes.
You're okay.

“Better than okay. I feel . . . purged. Free. And I'll feel a hundred times better when I have you on your feet again.”

Me, too.

All of a sudden, her healing gift leaped into her hands, twice as powerful as before. And a moment later, Fox shifted back into a man. Bounding to his feet, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her soundly, tenderly.