Passion Untamed (16 page)

Skye tried to yell for Lyon, but Paenther slammed his hand over her mouth before she made a sound. She struggled against him, but he dragged her up the stairs effortlessly, unlocked the door at the top, and pulled her into the harsh sunlight.

Birik couldn’t be calling Paenther all the way from the mountains. He must have come for Paenther himself or sent one of his minions. Now they waited for them, calling to Paenther through his shackles.

No, she would
not
go back there! Every time she closed her eyes, she saw that Daemon again, ripping those poor people to shreds. Worse, much worse, was the thought of Paenther chained again, back under Birik’s control.

Her mind screamed. Birds took flight, rattling
the trees around them. Dogs howled in the distance, feeling her distress. Her magic being bound seemed to have no effect on her ability to call the animals.

Paenther dragged her through the tree-filled backyard, one hand over her mouth, one hand firm on her arm. She struggled, desperate to get away, but he only lifted her off the ground and carried her as if she weighed nothing.

She had to do something! She couldn’t let this happen.

But the only ones who’d ever come to her call were animals. And not even a large dog was likely to be able to stop this man.

She stilled. But there were other animals in these woods. Animals that were also men.

Praying the Ferals’ animals would hear her distress, she opened her mind and heart and sent her plea out into the wind.

Within moments, animals began to appear. Squirrels scampered through the underbrush, a groundhog waddled out from behind a nearby bush, and birds of every kind and color appeared, landing in nearby trees.

Dozens of creatures came to her call.

But the animals she needed to hear her, the only ones who could stop Paenther and keep them from becoming prisoners all over again, weren’t among them.

Lyon shook hands with each of the Guard and finally their lead, Olivia. “Where are you staying?”

“At the Bethesda Therian enclave,” she replied with that hint of a Scottish brogue.

Lyon nodded. “I’ll be in touch.” Just as soon as he figured out what to do with Paenther’s damned witch. He reached for the door and stopped mid-move as his beast leaped within him, lifting his head on a roar of distress. A second later, a strange blast of energy hit him. The power rushed over him,
power he hadn’t called
, and he felt himself shifting. He struggled against the magic and failed.

Son of a
bitch
.

His line of sight dropped as he shifted into his animal form, a large, full-maned African lion.

One of the Guards crowed. “Brilliant!”

What the hell?
Tighe’s voice roared in his head.
I just shifted. And I can’t shift back!

Lyon growled angrily from his lion’s throat.
That witch has got to go.

“Tighe!” Delaney’s voice rang down the stairs. As the huge tiger ran into the foyer, his mate raced toward them.

“I just saw Paenther and Skye out our window. He’s carrying her off through the backyard, his hand over her mouth. She’s struggling.”

Something’s seriously screwed up here
, Tighe muttered.

Lyon had to agree.
Olivia, I’d appreciate it if you’d stick around. We may need you
. To Tighe he said,
Let’s go
.

Delaney ran for the back door and threw it open, then stood back as Lyon ran through, the
tiger close behind him. As he ran into the yard, he called to his mate.

Kara, lock the doors and stay in the house. We’ve got a problem.

He heard her groan.
I wish I could say that’s a surprise. Be careful, Lyon.

Always, little Radiant
.

Through the trees, he caught a flash of color. Paenther and the witch. As Delaney said, it appeared Paenther was dragging her against her will.

The little witch bitch is at it again
, Jag drawled, joining them in his jaguar form.

Where’s Foxx?

He left for the store a little while ago. Hopefully, he was out of reach of that blast.

Lyon had to agree.

The cats ran on all fours, their sleek animal bodies eating up the distance in a handful of seconds. It was rare for Lyon to run free in his full lion form, and the power of its body filled him with a rush rivaled only by the joy he found in Kara’s arms.

The cats circled around the fleeing pair and cut them off.
Stop, B.P.,
Lyon demanded, but the Feral only tried to push around him.
Paenther!

His eyes don’t look right, Roar,
Tighe said.

And they didn’t. They were unfocused. Paenther was almost certainly enthralled. Yet the witch wasn’t leading him away. Instead, she seemed to be fighting him with every ounce of strength she possessed. When had his well-ordered world turned into such a mire of chaos?

We’re going to have to take him down
, he told Tighe.
Don’t kill her until I know what she’s done to him
.

Agreed.

As Tighe blocked Paenther’s escape, snapping and growling, Lyon circled around. Bunching his powerful lion’s muscles, he took a running leap, hitting Paenther full in the back with his forepaws, then flinging himself sideways before he could injure his friend.

The witch rolled free.

Kara, love, we need rope. Olivia, we’re going to need your help
.

As Paenther hit the ground, the massive tiger leaped on him, pressing him down with his weight.

The witch rose and backed away.

Delaney, don’t let her escape. Shoot her if you have to.
Lyon speared the witch with his lion’s gaze.
What have you done? Why can’t we shift back?

The Mage shook her dark head, her blue eyes wide and confused. “I don’t know.”

You’re failing the test, witch. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you right now
.

Tears glittered in her eyes as her hands lifted in a helpless gesture, then dropped to her sides. “I can’t.”

The wrenching honesty of her whispered words combined with her courage in the face of his threat stayed his hand and saved her life.

But for how long, he didn’t know.

Skye stood at the door of her cage, her temple resting against the cold steel as she watched Paenther
in the cage across from hers with pained eyes. He was standing in the middle of the cell, vibrating with fury.

“Release me!” he shouted, but in his eyes she could still see the fog of Birik’s enthrallment.

It had taken all three of the Therians, Delaney and Kara, and the four shape-shifters in their animal forms to wrestle Paenther into the house, back to the prisons, and into his cage. His clothes were torn and bloody, though the wounds from the cats’ teeth and claws had already healed.

Outside the prison cells, the huge cats paced.

The Therians had left a short while ago when Wulfe, Hawke, and Kougar returned. Now the three Ferals stood eyeing the scene with grim expressions.

Lyon came to stand in front of her, his magnificent, maned head shaking back and forth, the anger rolling off him in waves.

If you value your life or his, tell me everything that happened, witch
.

Skye straightened, meeting the lion’s amber gaze and did as he asked, telling him all she knew. “All I could think to do was call to your animals.”

“So that’s why the yard suddenly filled with birds,” Delaney said. She was standing beside the tiger, stroking his fur. “It looked like something out of a creeper movie.”

Skye looked at the lion. “I’d hoped your animals would hear me so you could stop him. I don’t know why calling you would make you shift.”

Delaney released the tiger and started toward
her, but the tiger swung his head, blocking her way.

“Tighe.” Delaney groaned. “Can’t you reverse it, Skye?”

“I’ve tried everything I know to do. I sent the other animals away, but doing so had no effect on the Ferals.”

Even her gift had turned on her.

Paenther heard the voices as if from a distance interspersed with the growls and roars of the Ferals’ animals.

Delaney’s voice rang sure and clear. “Jag shifted accidentally at breakfast, but he was able to shift back after a few minutes.”

“Has Jag spent more time around the witch than the rest of you?” the Shaman asked.

“Skye spent the night in Paenther’s room,” Kara said. “And Paenther’s room is next door to Jag’s.”

“This is clearly the witch’s doing,” the Shaman muttered. “The question is how is she doing it? Jag, let me touch your head.”

Slowly the fog of enchantment encasing Paenther’s head began to lift, and he became aware of his surroundings. He was standing at the bars of one of the prison cells, his hands tied behind him. Feral animals paced just outside his cell, while Wulfe leaned against the wall, and Delaney stood with the tiger.

The Shaman had his hand on the jaguar. “Interesting. I feel the enchantress’s call trapped within strong ropes of magic. Magic that’s not hers.”

Paenther’s gaze caught on Skye leaning against the back wall of the cell opposite him, as if she would get as far away from what was going on as she could.

Skye.
“What did you do to me?” He said the words quietly, but her eyes widened and she flew to the bars of her own cage, her gaze reaching for him.

“You’re back.”

He shook his head, trying to clear it. “What happened?”

What do you remember?
Lyon’s voice sounded in his mind.

He thought about it for only a moment. “I was getting Skye’s cinnamon rolls. I dropped them.”

Wulfe grunted. “I wondered why there were sweet rolls on the stairs.”

You were enthralled, B.P.,
Lyon said.
The witch claims your shackles are to blame, that Birik called you through them.

“From the mountain?” he asked incredulously.

No, the Shaman thinks he or his men were nearby. Within a mile. Hawke and Kougar have gone to look for them.

“May I touch one of your shackles?” the Shaman asked calmly.

Blinking slowly, Paenther turned around to allow him to grasp the metal encircling his wrist. His teeth ground together as he held control over the old torment of ungodly rage.

The Shaman grunted. “The magic that’s binding you in your animal forms is coming from the
shackles rather than the witch. I believe it may be acting as a magnifier for the enchantress’s natural gift. She calls animals without always trying.”

So we can’t reclaim our human forms until those shackles are disabled?
Jag’s voice was ripe with disbelief.

Lyon roared.
Find a way to remove them, Shaman.

“Trust me, warrior, I’ve been trying. I’m getting nowhere. I have a way with magic, but I’m not a Mage.”

Paenther pulled his hand from the Shaman’s grasp. “Cut these ropes off me and give me the knife. I’ll get rid of the shackles.”

What good is a knife going to do?
Lyon asked.

“I’m going to cut off my feet and hands and pull them off. Someone else will have to do my right hand.”

Like hell. There’s no telling if that will work.

“There’s one possibility,” the Shaman said. “Though I think it’s a long shot.”

Name it.

“Mind-skinning.”

Paenther groaned silently. Yeah, that was going to feel good. “If you think it’ll work, do it.”

“I actually have strong doubts that it will work. The very magic we’re trying to break will likely keep me from reaching into your memory. But I’ve yet to find another option.”

What exactly are you skinning his mind for
? Lyon demanded.

“The spell that was used to lock the shackles
on him in the first place. If I can get that original spell, I might be able to fashion a counterspell.”

Lyon growled his displeasure.

The Shaman shrugged. “Do you have a better idea?”

“I do.” Skye gripped the steel bars of her own cage. “I once wore those shackles.”

All eyes turned toward her as her unspoken offer became clear. Somewhere in her head was the counterspell.

“No,” Paenther ground out. “It’s too painful.”

Skye protested. “It’s better than you cutting off your hands and feet.”

“They’ll grow back.”

“I can do this, Paenther.”

“It’s going to hurt.”

The Shaman shook his head. “This may not hurt her at all. Mage minds are built differently. It certainly won’t hurt her as it did Kara. Kara’s memory had been intentionally blocked. I had to strip away the layers of magic to reach what we needed. I shouldn’t have to do that with the witch. I’ll simply be accessing a memory no longer within easy reach of her conscious mind.”

“See?” Skye cocked her head at him. “Easy.”

He didn’t like it. What if the Shaman was wrong? He trusted the man implicitly when it came to all things Feral or Therian, but the man hated the Mage. What if he hurt her, intentionally or not?

And yet…he clenched his teeth against the pain as he stared at the lion, tiger, and jaguar pacing in front of his cage. A cage he wasn’t likely
to get far from after what just happened. There was so much more at stake here.

“You’re not doing it unless I’m with her.”

Agreed,
Lyon said.
Wulfe?

Wulfe took a key off the hook and opened Paenther’s cage. He pulled a switchblade from his pants pocket, and Paenther turned to allow him access to his ropes. As the ropes fell free, Paenther turned and greeted his friend properly, then pushed past him to go to Skye.

The moment he entered her cell, she slid into his arms. He pulled her tight, cradling her head against his shoulder as his hand burrowed into her hair.

“Tell me what happened, Beauty.” As she quickly caught him up, he held her, stroking her, feeling her tremble. “Easy, little one.” But he couldn’t blame her for being afraid. Not with the beasts pacing outside her cage, eyeing her as if they meant to make her their next meal.