Rapture Untamed (14 page)

“Yo.”

“We’re crossing the bridge,” the tiger shifter said.

Shit. They were out of time. Jag gave him directions to the motel. “We were just heading out for food. We’ll meet you…”

“We’ll bring it.”

Double shit. “There’s a sub shop on the way in. Bring four footlongs for us, and whatever the rest of you want.”

Olivia held up five fingers.

“Make that five, and surprise us.” He snapped the phone closed, shoved it in his pocket, and looked at
Olivia. “We’re going to have to go for a walk, and fast. They’ll be here too soon to get you into a crowd, but I’ll get you away from humans, and you can feed from me at a distance.”

He pulled on his pants and a tee, then held out his hand to her, pleased when she took it. Hand in hand, they left the motel together, walking down the stairs and across the parking lot to the woods beyond. When they were a good twenty yards into the woods, Jag stopped and released her.

“Feed from me, Red. As low as you can, and we’ll go from there.”

She nodded, turning to him, her eyes tense, her expression worried. Almost at once, he felt a strong hum thrumming over his flesh. Not uncomfortable, but not something he’d likely sleep through. “If I had to guess, you’re feeding twice as hard as you did in Feral House.”

Her eyes popped wide, her mouth dropping open as the feeding stopped abruptly. “That should have been a fraction of it.”

“You’re stronger, all right. Can you pull it any lower?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had to try.”

He nodded at her. “Feed more, Red. You need it.”

“You’ll tell me if I’m taking too much?”

The fear in her voice squeezed something deep in his chest. That old urge to make her mad pricked at him, but he pushed it back, smiling at her instead.

“I’ll tell you.”

The buzz dimmed a little, but she continued to feed at a much higher level than she had before. Five minutes later he felt the first wave of light-headedness.

“Enough, Liv.”

She stopped immediately, her eyes filled with concern. “Too much?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling it. You’re not full?”

“No. It’s like my metabolism has been ratcheted up half a dozen notches.”

“When the gang arrives, you can try it again. Go slow, just a little at a time.”

Olivia grabbed his arm. “Sit down, Jag, until it passes. If you fall, I won’t be able to catch you.”

“Sure about that? You’re a lot stronger than you look.” But he let her pull him down onto a stump.

She stood in front of him, watching him with worried eyes.

“I’m fine, Olivia. Just a little light-headed.” But it was disconcerting to realize how fast she could kill him if she wanted to. Fortunately, he could tell how much that realization scared her. “You don’t like to kill, do you?”

“On the field of battle, I never hesitate. But I don’t kill innocents. Or friends.”

Slowly, he cocked his head at her. “There must be another category, because I’m pretty sure I don’t fall into either of those.”

He’d been trying to ease that fear in her eyes, he realized. Hoping to draw a smile.

But the look she turned on him was far too serious. “When you’re not trying to make me mad, you are my friend, Jag. For all the flaws in our relationship, you understand me better than anyone ever has. I never know what you’re going to do, and I still don’t know if you’re going to turn me in, but for now you’re the best friend I have. In a weird kind of way, maybe the best friend I’ve ever had. Because I can completely and totally be myself with you.”

Her words hit him hard, at once a sweet, drenching rain on a parched soul, and a full-out assault on the thing that lived inside him. The bitterness. And he knew she was right. Part of him didn’t want this, didn’t want her to like him or call him friend. Didn’t want anyone to like him.

But as that ugliness started to rise inside him, threatening this truce, Tighe’s white Land Rover pulled into the parking lot. Behind it, he saw Hawke’s black monster of an SUV. The GMC Yukon might be as big as Jag’s Hummer, but it wasn’t the gas guzzler Jag’s was. The damned hawk shifter had bought a hybrid.

Jag stood, glad to find the light-headedness gone. “Let’s go. Lunch has arrived. My lunch, at any rate.” He glanced at her as they started back through the woods toward the motel. “What if this jump in your metabolism continues to accelerate?”

Her startled gaze met his, her eyes, for once, looking every one of her nearly six hundred years. “I won’t be responsible for the deaths of innocents. I refuse. If I start harming others, you’re going to have to stop me.”

“I know.”

And he would. He’d have no choice. But he had no illusions, either. Being forced to take Olivia’s life would destroy him.

“How’s the wanker?”

Niall asked the question beneath his breath as he and Ewan joined her in the motel parking lot, one on either side.

As Jag led Delaney and the Ferals up the stairs, Olivia held back, needing a report from her men, knowing they wanted one in return.

“Jag’s a challenge,” Olivia said coolly, fighting to mask the emotion she feared might creep into her voice. These two knew her far too well. And yet, in some ways, they knew her not at all. “But he’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“If he hurts you…” Niall began hotly.

Ewan punched him in the shoulder. “You’ll what? Attack a Feral?”

“He’ll do nothing.” Olivia used her command voice, the one that brooked no argument. Niall was usually a wise, levelheaded soldier, but Jag clearly brought out the worst in him. Especially when it came to her.

Niall’s gaze dropped, a storm rising in his eyes as he looked at her shoulder. “He clawed you.”

“No. For heaven’s sake, Niall. This happened in the woods. It wasn’t Jag’s doing.” They’d have to get into the discussion of the Daemon when they joined the others upstairs. She just prayed Jag left the draden attack out of it.

She strode forward before Niall could question her further, leading them up the stairs after the others, following the scent of warm bread and spicy meats drifting from the bags of sandwiches Tighe carried.

As they followed the others inside, the motel room quickly became dwarfed by the six huge men and two women. Tighe wore sunglasses despite the cloudy day, leaving them on in the room. She’d heard that his eyes turned to tiger eyes spontaneously sometimes, which forced him to keep them covered whenever humans were around.

He flashed dimples at his wife as she nudged him aside to place the tray of drinks on the table. As Hawke leaned his long body back against the chest of drawers, Kougar positioned himself beside the door, part of the group and yet not, as he watched them with eyes completely lacking in warmth.

Though she knew all four Ferals wore the armbands with the heads of their animals—bands through which they accessed the power of the Earth—only Jag’s armband showed.

Jag sprawled across the bed farthest from the window, lying on his side and propping his head on one thickly muscled arm while Niall and Ewan sat side by side on the edge of the other bed.

Jag caught her eye and patted the bed in front of him, clearly suggesting she join him. But while a scamp’s smile played around his mouth, the look in his eyes held a warning. A warning that drew her to him instead of repelling her, and not because she feared he’d give her away. Quite the opposite. The look in his eyes warned her to be careful lest she give herself away.

She found herself crossing to perch on the edge of the bed beside him instead of joining her own men as she might have done a few days ago. Everything had changed when Jag discovered her secret. He threatened everything she’d built of her life, including her life itself. But in an odd way, he’d become the only one she could truly trust.

Besides, she could no longer be sure how long she could go without feeding. She might accidentally steal energy without meaning to, possibly without even knowing she was doing it. Jag needed to be close enough to stop her if he had to. If she harmed the Ferals…

A shudder tore through her. She couldn’t even think
about what that would mean to their battle to keep Satanan from rising again.

As long as she stayed close to Jag, he wouldn’t let that happen. She’d started to believe he wouldn’t turn her in if he didn’t have to. She just had to make damn sure she did nothing to force him to betray her secret.

Jag sat up to catch the sandwich Tighe tossed to him. Olivia already had hers, Tighe having passed out the subs to the women first. He glanced at her bright head as she sat near his feet and unwrapped the warm sandwich. He was surprised she’d come when he’d patted the bed. The appearance of being his lapdog grated on her pride. Which was precisely why he’d done it. A dumb move since he really had wanted her close.

He wasn’t sure what the others would do if she somehow gave herself away. Kougar, he worried about most. If that Feral decided she needed to die, there would be no discussion. He’d lunge, prepared to make a killing blow. And Jag would play hell protecting her if she weren’t already within reach. Not that long ago being draden-kissed carried an automatic death penalty. With the power they possessed to suck life, most felt it was a matter of kill or be killed.

Olivia was different. She’d been hiding and controlling her power for centuries.

As Tighe handed out the rest of the sandwiches, Jag unwrapped his own. An Italian sub. All the Ferals were
meat eaters, almost to the exclusion of everything else. After all, they were all part predatory animal. But if he had to eat a sandwich, he’d go for Italian every time. And Stripes knew it.

“Thanks, Tony man,” he drawled.

Tighe cut him a tight look, clearly tensed and waiting for the rest of it—the dig or the coarse reference to what he wanted to do sexually with Tighe’s mate.

When Jag left it at thanks, Tighe nodded once, his gaze wary.

Jag grunted. When had he become so predictable?

Tighe leaned back against the chest of drawers, shoulder to shoulder with Hawke, and unwrapped his own sandwich. Paper rustled as they all tore into their lunches.

Their fearless leader-in-residence gave them about a minute to take the edge off their appetites before his gaze swung to Jag. “Fill us in.”

The urge to say something snide tickled his throat, but dammit, he
was
becoming predictable. And he couldn’t stop thinking about what Olivia said about his doing it just to make people dislike him. He refused to believe it. And yet…shit. His own explanation, of simply enjoying having people mad at him, didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense, did it?

It was just the way he was.

That knee-jerk need to fire off with some snide comment died, and he launched into a tight, precise expla
nation of what they’d seen at the Mage stronghold, the corpses strung up, the number of sorcerers and sentinels they’d spotted, the power orbs throbbing with Daemon energy, and their suspicion that the Daemons weren’t necessarily under the control of the Mage but being lured back by suffering humans.

“The place is warded with magic strong enough that even Olivia couldn’t see through it.” His mouth lifted in a small, satisfied smile. “She can now.”

Tighe frowned. “Damned dark magic. We’ll assess the situation when we get there, but anyone who can’t see that place is pulling back to the vehicles. I don’t want anyone being ambushed.”

Ewan scowled. “You’d leave us behind?”

“Only if you can’t get your mind opened.”

Both Ewan’s and Niall’s gazes swung to Olivia.

No way in hell. She’s mine.
Deep inside, Jag’s animal leaped to his jaguar’s feet, growling. A snarl rumbled from Jag’s own throat, drawing the surprised gazes of everyone in the room, including Olivia’s. He didn’t give a shit. If either of those Therians thought they were using Olivia’s body to open their minds, they were brutally mistaken.

“Use your damn fists,” he growled. Olivia was his now, and he had no intention of sharing.

Tighe watched him with wary interest, then finally cleared his throat. “Anything else we need to know?”

“Yeah,” Jag drawled.

Olivia jerked, just a small movement the others probably missed, but he knew what it meant. The flicker of fear echoing in the depths of her gray eyes confirmed it. She feared he meant to give her away.

Which annoyed him. Why it annoyed him, he wasn’t sure. He’d pretty much threatened her with betrayal unless she did what he wanted, hadn’t he? He’d forced her to her hands and knees with that not-so-subtle threat.

Still, it rankled.

He met her gaze, watching her expression as he said, “The Daemons carry venom in their claws. Venom capable of at least partially immobilizing their prey.” He’d told Tighe as much. They probably already knew, but what the hell.

As he spoke, the fear in her eyes eased, the tension leaching from her body, softening her in a way that had his hands longing to pull her against him.

“Goddess, Olivia,” Niall hissed. The Therian’s gaze dropped to Olivia’s shoulder, to the rips in her jacket, his eyes wide and horrified. “I didn’t know you were the one attacked.” A blanch paled his face, one far too emotional for a soldier’s concern over his captain’s near demise, especially when said captain sat before him, clearly fine. No, the look in Niall’s eyes radiated pure fear. For a woman he felt deeply about.

The man wasn’t just protective of her. He was fucking in love with her.

Something ugly and jealous slid up Jag’s throat. Without making the conscious decision to do so, he reached for Olivia, cupping his hand around the nape of her neck, claiming her with a low, feral growl. Marking her in front of them all, like a mated male.

He wasn’t sure who was more surprised—his brothers or himself.

Hawke’s eyebrow shot up. Tighe cocked his head with warning, suspecting Jag of doing it just to annoy.

Was he?

Beneath his hand, Olivia stiffened.

The tension in the room jacked up two hundred percent, and it occurred to him they were all waiting for her to elbow him in the throat. Or the balls.

“Jag,” she said instead, clearly displeased. But she didn’t push him away.

He didn’t release her. “Olivia had a little run-in with a Daemon last night, didn’t you, Sugar?” he drawled, kneading her neck, running his thumb slowly up and down the satin length of skin. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Niall tense like a bowstring.

Deep satisfaction warmed him from the inside out as he continued. “The venom slowed her down a little, but not so much that we couldn’t have a little fun.”

The look she shot him over her shoulder was sharp and frustrated. “Stop it.”

Instead, he curled a lock of her hair gently around his finger, meeting Niall’s furious gaze with lazy challenge.

To his surprise, the animal inside him rumbled with approval. For once, he and the annoying beast were in complete accord. Olivia belonged to
him
.

Tighe shot him a warning look but said nothing as he launched back into fearless-leader mode.

“Our original mission was to capture and destroy the Daemons before they take any more lives and before they give away the whole immortal game.”

Jag played with Olivia’s hair, stroking the side of her silken neck with the backs of his knuckles. A small shiver stole through her, and he smiled.
His
.

“But the game’s changed now that we know the Mage are involved.” Tighe threw him an annoyed flick of his gaze. “Stopping them from freeing Satanan is first priority. As soon as we eat, we’ll head out to the Mage stronghold and attack. If we find any humans still alive in there, we’ll do what we can for them, then when the battle’s over, we’ll clear their minds and send them on their way.”

Hawke looked up. “What are we going to do with the captured Mage?”

“We’re capturing sorcerers, only. Sentinels die.”

“Mother Nature’s not going to be happy,” Hawke muttered. The killing of more than a couple Mage always resulted in wild weather or earthquakes, nature’s fury unleashed. While the Ferals tapped into the Earth’s energy through their Radiant, the Mage had always been part of nature itself. Long ago, before the defeat
of the Daemons and the mortgaging of their power, the Mage had been able to affect and control many of nature’s functions—the weather, the growth of plants and trees, the reproduction of many of the Earth’s species. They’d thought of themselves as gods. He suspected they still did even though they’d jumped ship to the evil side.

Tighe shrugged. “Then nature’s just going to have to be pissed. We’ll never win this battle if we can’t dispatch the enemy. Besides, the lives we take will be nothing compared to what Satanan does if he’s freed. Once he and his horde rule the Earth again, no one will be safe.”

Olivia started to rise, to escape his touch, he was sure. Jag’s gaze met Niall’s, saw the angry triumph in the other man’s eyes, and Jag curled his fingers around Olivia’s arm, tight enough that she’d have to make a scene to get free. And that’s when he felt it.

Beneath his touch, Olivia’s breathing had turned shallow and quick.

She shot him a sharp look, part warning, part fear.

Holy shit, she was rising. And he hadn’t even pressed heat into her. Just the brush of his knuckles had turned her on. She was in danger of coming. In front of everyone.

“Jag,” Olivia whispered through clenched teeth. “Let me go.
Please
.”

Ah, crap.
He might be a jerk, but he wouldn’t embarrass her like that.

He kept his grip on her and pressed her with his cool, calming flow. Beneath his palm, the tension in her began to ease, her body softening. She shot him a look that at once thanked him and demanded he release her before it happened again.

He did, even though letting go of her was the last thing he wanted to do.

When he finally turned his gaze back to the front of the room, Tighe gave him a sharp look but said nothing. Stripes was no dummy. He recognized a little claim-staking when he saw it. Every man and woman in the room must know by now that he and Olivia had been intimate.

He’d made that more than clear.

What they didn’t know, and were probably having a hard time figuring out, was why Olivia allowed it when she’d made it just as clear she had no use for him.

He and Olivia alone knew the real reason. That she was his because he’d forced her to be. Because he knew something about her no one else knew and had threatened to destroy her if she didn’t do exactly as he said.

The truth settled in his gut like a fist-sized lump of hard clay.

She’d become his partner because he’d coerced her into it. She’d become his lover because he’d given her no choice.

But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted…her.

With a sudden longing that tore a strip from his soul, he wanted her to reach for him because she wanted to. He wanted to see a smile lift her pretty mouth and light her eyes and know that smile belonged to him alone. The longing hit him like a pair of fists.