Geared for Pleasure (39 page)

Felidae.

Phina’s reaction was instantaneous. She slid out of his embrace, under his arms, until she had her back to him, facing the newcomer with a glinting grin and extended claws. The meaning was clear. Cyrus belonged to her and no one was to hurt him.

There were eight Felidae males, all barely dressed. All carrying weapons equipped with long, deadly-looking darts. The men themselves were strong and lean, with interesting markings and varying shades of colorful hair, each more wild and tangled than the next, as though their locks had been combed by the wind. And they were laughing. Not at her.

At Cyrus.

He had turned to face them, his readiness to protect her, to fight them, crashing in waves against her back.

The leader stepped forward and mocked him over her shoulder. “You are tall for a newborn infant. Only the youngest cubs must be protected by the weaker sex.”

Cyrus tried to move her out of the way but she resisted. She reached for the whip at her waist, and lashed out with skill, the braided leather deftly coiling around the nearest Felidae’s weapon and wrenching it from his hands.

She smiled at their leader. “And you are foolish. Only a man who wishes to die would refer to a Felidae female as the weaker sex.”

His burgundy eyes lit with respect as they studied her figure. Her fighting stance. He inhaled and his pupils dilated.

He lifted his hand to stop the angry man beside him from picking up his gun. “I caught your scent as soon as you landed, little warrior. I am Stet. Guardian and glider.” He gestured toward Cyrus with a grimace. “You are too proud and beautiful to be wasted on this wounded human. To dwell amongst those wandering like lost, ignorant children at the Lake of Light. I will claim you and let you fly.”

Phina saw the other men looking at her with newfound deference, as if she should be flattered this oddly speaking stranger wanted to drag her off to mate. She opened her mouth to speak, but Cyrus beat her to it.

He had also drawn his sword. “I am the Queen’s Sword. And you will claim her over my rotting, human corpse. She is mine.”

Mine. How she reveled in his words, despite the situation, which was ludicrous and dreamlike. She could hear the captain and the others. Surely they would glance toward the trees and see the men surrounding them. Felidae surrounding them. What were these Felidae doing this far north? Where were they from? They smelled different. Unique.

Stet smiled, noticing the deep breath she’d taken. “She is already mine, Queen’s Sword. I am Felidae. I know your title, know you serve the false one, but it does not sway me. I accept your challenge.”

Phina did
not
like the sound of that—the claiming or his insult to Queen Idony—but she rewound her whip, caressing it as she attempted her best expression of seduction on Stet. “I do love a good fight. Particularly when it is over the right to pleasure me. Would you mind if I waved my friends over so they could watch you in action?”

The other Felidae chuckled and Stet shook his head, his expression unconcerned. “You can wave if you like, they will not see you. We closed the spirit veil. I will kill the Queen’s Sword, the treasonous Arendal. With his death and my vow to serve the true lord, I will
become the leader of my people and mate with you before they notice you are gone. Humans are many things. Perceptive is not one of them.”

For disliking humans so much, he certainly spoke like her least favorite among them. A vain, superior brute. It should not surprise her that other Felidae men were like her brothers. Condescending to women. Domineering.

Frankly, she wanted to snatch Stet the Guardian’s eyes out of his head and chew on them for sport. “
I
choose who I mate with. Usually I am extremely open-minded about it. I do love a good fuck. However, I’d kill the man who’d try and force me.”

Stet appeared insulted at the idea. “You would never be forced. And our females are respected and hold the highest positions of authority in all things. In this, however, instinct abides. I will explain and introduce you to our Peacemaker, if you give my men your sword… and that interesting jewelry on your wrist. It has a dangerous aroma.”

Peacemaker? Could the woman on the carving in the mines still be alive? Phina could not deny her curiosity. She loosened her bracelet and glanced over her shoulder at the stewing Cyrus. He was itching for a fight, but she knew he had recognized the title Stet had used as well.

He snared her gaze, his expression alert, but thoughtful. “Give them your sword, Seraphina. I think we should go with them. Just remember what we are looking for.”

The tower? Did he think these men might lead them to Tower Orr?

“Seraphina?” Stet sighed lustily. “What an unusual name for a Felidae. My future mate is unique in all ways. Worthy of me. Surely sent to me as a gift for my loyalty.”

She noticed Cyrus’s eye twitch with animosity and she nearly laughed out loud in delight. There was no denying she was enjoying his discomfort, his possessiveness. She was wicked, but it made her
feel special. Made her feel as if she were truly his, as she wanted to be. She could have told him there was no danger of her falling for Stet’s insulting arrogance. That he was a child compared to Cyrus.

“Perhaps I am a gift too good for you. Let your Peacemaker decide.”

The men surrounded them and Phina could not resist looking back at the captain and the others. Freeman appeared to be looking in their direction, scanning the area as though he could not see them. He also, she noticed, appeared fuzzy. Blurred. She studied the trees, searching for the source before turning in curiosity to a Felidae walking beside her. “You use the dodge?”

Phina was taught that the Felidae respected the great, illusive monster of the deep. Honored it. When she’d first realized what was hiding the Deviant, she’d had difficulty coming to terms with that—because of the elders’ stories.

The man wrinkled his nose. “Dodge?”

“Your
veil
that no one can see through? I thought the Felidae held the beast sacred. And how do you charge it?”

Understanding lit his gaze. “We do. It creates our spirit veil. It has been in place for longer than any can remember. Each generation of silent warriors are sent to the coast on the west to battle. They always return with more of the veil. We celebrate its spirit with ritual and honor, giving it new life with our people in gratitude for its protection.”

Phina’s tail reached back to brush against Cyrus’s leg, reassuring her that he was still there. She needed reassurance now, because she was at a loss to explain what she saw when she glanced up to ask the man another question.

Gliders. Trader’s stalls had reproductions of the transport. The mechanics of those facsimiles rarely worked in practice. She had never seen Felidae equipped with wings, soaring over the treetops, until now.

Stet must have noticed her bemusement. “The others are curious. They will lift the inner veil so we may pass.”

Cyrus looked up as well. “I’ll be damned. I wish we’d had a pair of those in that ironwood tree.”

Phina noticed Stet’s tail stiffen at the words. Interesting. “The rope worked well enough for us, my Sword. After I made certain the knots were… tight enough.”

In her experience, it was the way in which a thing was said more than the actual words themselves that mattered to a male. Said in a particular tone, and everything could be considered intimate. Scandalous.

Stet hissed but refused to look back. He deserved it, the oafish forest dweller. She studied the landscape and saw no tower. But she was curious. She knew of only three types of Felidae. The ones who lived in one of the two settlements in Theorrey, the servants or sexual slaves whose tails were bobbed and claws removed at the root, and now, the ones whom Nephi and Jobi were soon to join in Bodhan’s mythical Aaru. She could only hope it was as free and inclusive a society as he’d claimed.

Four. The number echoed through her head as the scenery changed. The endless forest became a colorful, busy place full of male and female Felidae of all ages and markings.

No earthen mounds dotted the landscape as they passed through the second layer of dodge. She saw brightly painted houses like birds’ nests circling the trees above. The trees themselves were as thick as rail cars—not ironwood. It was a hardy, rough tree that must be native to this area. Wooden steps and lifts of rope and beam took Felidae to the different levels with weights and winches. She could even see Felidae children peering between the railings high above while adults gathered on the ground, talking and trading.

All stopped to stare openly at the newcomers.

Stet raised his voice. “Summon our Peacemaker. I have accepted
a mate challenge for the vibrant warrior Seraphina. I ask for all to witness my claim.”

“When can I kill him?” Cyrus spoke softly in Phina’s ear, but it was Stet who answered.

“You can attempt to kill me shortly, Queen’s Sword. Seraphina will soon see who she must choose.”

An older man’s voice cut through the excited chatter of the crowd of Felidae females closing in around Phina. They were making her nervous, touching the buckles on her corset and murmuring to themselves. She sent them a wink and they all started giggling.

“Cyrus? I had to see for myself when I heard they were bringing you in. How did you know where to find me?”

Phina saw the man leaning heavily on several Felidae females, his right shoulder and chest bandaged. The smell of death and decay hovered over him like a shroud.

His hair was a faded shade of indigo.

“Commander Iacchus?” Cyrus pushed past his guard who, with a nod from Stet, let him pass. “What happened, sir? Did
they
do this to you?”

Phina nodded politely to the women but broke their grip, following Cyrus to the older man’s side. He seemed familiar, but Phina wasn’t sure why.

He laughed. “No, Cyrus, no. They had no part in this. Though some of them, I admit, would rather I pass more quickly.” He noticed Phina standing there and tried to stand up taller. “Seraphina Felidae, I presume.” He lifted his arm to salute and flinched. “I am, as you are, the queen’s loyal servant. Though that, too, may not last much longer.”

“You know her?” Cyrus sounded surprised. “Sir, I must tell you, I missed our rendezvous because I was—”

The old man coughed. “Snatched? Yes, I know. Had my own run-in before I could get to the Siren. Still recovering to be honest.”

He wasn’t being honest, Phina knew. He was dying. Slowly, and for a while. But from the scent of his injuries, it wouldn’t be long before his suffering was at an end. He and Cyrus had planned a meeting on the Siren? Was that how this man knew her? Somehow she didn’t think so.

“It wasn’t your fault, Arendal. He was one step ahead of us. Maybe two. But you got away unharmed, yes? That is what matters to the queen. We will get the dagger back soon enough.” She and Cyrus followed as the women supporting Iacchus led him carefully to a burnt orange hammock that would give him a view of Felidae life as he rested. He sat down heavily and took a few deep breaths from the exertion.

Cyrus knelt respectfully at the older man’s feet and bowed his head in regret. “Commander, we have the dagger. We do not have Queen Idony. She was taken after
my
abduction.”

The older man nodded, his expression one of sorrow. “They thought that might happen from the start.” At Phina’s look of confusion he clarified. “Queen Idony and the Khepri. They saw it on the wind, as they say around here. They prepared. I have been ready for it most of my life, but now that it has happened, I am no longer the Wode I was. No longer ready.”

He laid his hand on Cyrus’s shoulder and squeezed. “Perhaps that is best. I have lived too long with my secrets. I was told once that long life is a curse. If you live long enough to see your friends become your enemies, and the people you love disappear, you will lose your heart. And what is life without that?” He took another labored breath. “You brought the dagger?”

Cyrus nodded. “It’s with the Chalice, at the lake beyond their veil. Commander, you mentioned someone? A ‘he’?”

Phina inhaled sharply at the hopeful expression that transformed the Wode’s pain-lined face. “She’s here? Demeter is here? She still lives?”

Phina came closer, drawn to him, to ease his mind. “Dare lives. She is under the protection of Captain Amaranthe of the Deviant and Bodhan of the Siren. Though she handles herself well enough on her own.”

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Astonishing. She does bring out a man’s protective side, it’s true. Always such a gentle little thing. Too gentle for our times.”

Something in his tone sounded possessive. Familiar. She cocked her head in surprise. “You are her father.”

Commander Iacchus nodded. “I helped bring her into this world.”

She moved closer, her gaze narrowing. It was an interesting choice of words considering what she had seen when they’d first taken Dare off the Siren. “You helped? Then you must know why she has a birthmark shaped in the image of the Khepri’s scarab symbol?”

The man’s pleasant features hardened. “What I know I’ll tell
her
, as soon as the Arendal Sword defends your honor and saves you from Stet so we can get that dagger.” He gestured behind her with his chin. “Unless you would
like
to belong to him. To be honest, I always thought he was a bit of an arrogant pissbucket myself. Easy pickings for the queen’s enemies.”

“Defends my—” Phina whirled around and noticed Stet, his wild mane of reddish-blond hair flying as he gestured to the crowd. He pointed at her breasts and showed off her bracelet as though it were a trophy he had already won. And he slandered her queen as well. “He
is
a pissbucket. Can I accept his challenge instead? I think I could take him on.”

The commander chortled. “You think you can, but he is stronger than he looks. Damn fast, as well. I have seen that boy run straight up a tree; he nearly reached the top before he turned and glided down like a feather on the breeze.” He studied Cyrus. “You have our training, but that won’t help much here. You’ve learned how to fight dirty over the years? I suggest you use that.”