CHAPTER 14
Skye turned to face Paenther as they reached the prison deep below the house. She was shaking, her stomach tight with misery after what had happened in the dining room. The jaguar inside Jag had been acting increasingly desperate to reach her. Not drawn to her. Not leaping to greet her as the panther was. Hed almost been acting as if he were being pulled against his will, turning him angry. Viciously so.
I didnt do it on purpose.
Paenther looked down at her, his mouth hard, his eyes grim. I didnt say you did.
But you have to think I was responsible.
I dont think its you but your cantric thats to blame.
Why? I mean, why would Birik load a spell into my cantric that would drive a Feral crazy? He couldnt have expected me to free you, let alone be kidnapped by you in return. It doesnt make any sense.
He opened the door of a cell across from where shed stayedand bledat midnight. Someone had cleaned up the blood.
He ushered her inside, then followed her. There was a wooden bench in this one, and she sat on it as Paenther stood beside the door, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his body still. No expression crossed his face.
It might not make any sense, but the only alternative I can see is that youre doing these things intentionally.
Im not.
He watched her closely. I believe you.
She closed her eyes, absorbing the sound of those words.
But that means its the cantric. He moved, coming to sit beside her on the bench. Or something else we havent thought of.
As he stretched his long legs out in front of him, she turned to him. What are you going to do, Paenther?
He turned to meet her gaze. What do you mean?
With me? She knew her survival was at stake. She knew it. And knew he did, too. I want to help you stop Birik. More than anything in the world, I want that. But I dont know how.
He reached for her, hooking his arm around her shoulder as he pulled her against him. I know. I dont know how, either.
You cant let me go for fear Birik will catch me and use me to free more of those things. But Lyon wont let me stay here, will he? Not when Im causing so much distress to your animals.
Maybe your staying down here is enough for now. Well figure out something, Beauty.
With a gentle squeeze, he released her, then stood and turned to look down at her. Stay here. Im going to get you some food.
Im not hungry.
He cupped her face with hand. Ill be right back. Then he locked her in and disappeared down the long passage, leaving her alone and trembling.
For all her adult life shed longed for kindness. For goodness in another. Shed finally found it and fallen head over heels in love with a good man.
But love was never enough.
Paenther strode through the underground of the house, hating that he had nothing more to offer Skye than platitudes. Lies. Words of hope, some called them.
Hope was good, of course. Vhypers words, repeated every day of their incarceration three centuries ago, had kept him sane, kept him believing hed make it. We are going to get out of this, we three. Together. Do not doubt it. Do not ever doubt it.
The words had turned out to be a lie for Frederick, the third of their group. Hed died in that dungeon, bleeding to death from a wound Ancreta had inflicted on him just for the fun of it. Shed cut off his foot to see how long it would take to grow back. It hadnt.
The three of them hadnt gotten out of there together. Frederick had never become the jaguar Feral he was marked to be. It was nearly two years later that Jag had finally dragged his surly ass into Feral House and set about turning every Feral against him. Theyd thought hed never show up. To this day, nearly three centuries later, most wished he hadnt.
Frederick, with his quiet strength and dry wit, would have rounded out their team well, but hed never gotten the chance, despite Vhypers words of hope.
But sometimes words were all you had.
As he reached the main floor, he saw Lyon at the front door greeting three strangers, two men and a woman. The chiefs gaze swung to Paenther, and he motioned him over.
The Guard, B.P.
The Guard hailed mainly from Europe, trained in the British Isles, and were known to be fierce fighters. He was interested to see the leader of this team seemed to be the woman, a petite female in a trim pantsuit and high heels with flaming shoulder-length red hair.
Paenther shook hands with each of the three. The men both spoke with English accents, but the woman, Olivia, possessed a hint of a Scottish brogue.
As Lyon turned to usher them into the parlor, Jag came storming into the foyer. That witch has to go! I feel like Ive got her magic crawling all over me, he growled, then stopped short as he saw the visitors. His gaze zeroed in on Olivia, his gaze raking her from head to toe and back again. Youll do.
Jag Lyon warned, but the surly warrior slid his arm around the redheads shoulders. How about you come upstairs and spread your legs for me, Sugar, he drawled.
How about I dont. The words purred from her mouth, but her eyes had turned hard as steel.
Jag didnt seem to notice. His hand dropped from her shoulder to grasp her breast. Ill be good.
Im sure, she murmured as she lifted one of her high spiked heels and drove it down hard on his instep.
Fuck! Jag leaped back, lifting his injured foot. The look he turned on the woman was pure venom.
Olivia turned so that she could keep Jag in her sights, but glanced at Lyon and lifted one well-arched brow. As you were saying?
Paenther struggled to keep a straight face.
Did I just see what I thought I saw? Tighe said coming up behind him.
You did.
Lyon eyed the woman with a bemused look. I was saying I appreciate your willingness to help. Ill be pairing your warriors with mine, allowing my team to cover more ground.
The redhead gave a decisive nod, glancing at Jag, then back at Lyon. Well be ready. As many of us as you need.
Youre one of the fighters, then? Lyon asked.
Of course. Do not let my size fool you, warrior. Many have done so to their regret.
Admiration lit Lyons eyes, and a hint of amusement as he glanced at Jag. I dont doubt that. Ill be happy for your help. All of you, he said, his words encompassing the other two men.
Tighe chuckled low and glanced at Paenther. Think Lyon will pair her with Jag? She could sure teach him some manners.
Paenther grunted. A hundred bucks on the redhead.
Jag glared at the pair of them, growling. All of a sudden his skin began to sparkle with lights. The next moment, a furious jaguar prowled the parlor.
Fuck! Jags yell roared through Paenthers head.
Lyon scowled and glared at Paenther. See to your witch.
Paenther nodded and left the room. Tighe accompanied him back to the kitchen, where he was determined to find Skye some food.
Hawke called while you were downstairs. Theyre on their way back.
What happened?
They found the farmhouse where we picked you up without any trouble, and Wulfe located your scent. He followed it about four miles, then lost it. They spent all night searching but cant find anything that looks like a cave.
What about the Market? They turned the corner into the dining room, where Foxx, Kara, and Delaney were helping Pink sweep up the mess. On the sideboard sat a platter of cinnamon rolls still half-full.
They cant find it. Tighe picked up one of the rolls and took a big bite. Mmm, not bad.
Paenther grabbed one of the unbroken plates and loaded it with four rolls.
They were starting to feel disoriented, so Lyon ordered them back here, stat.
Magic.
Yep. Gotta be.
Dammit. I can find my way back in there. I know I can. As soon as I get these damned shackles off.
Any word from the Shaman this morning?
None. If he doesnt come up with something soon, I may not have any choice but to cut off one of my hands to see if it works. He couldnt shake the memory of Frederick bleeding to death after Ancreta cut off his foot, but Frederick had been two years without radiance. Hed turned mortal, as all newly marked Ferals did if they didnt find Feral House within a couple of years.
It wouldnt happen to him. His hand would grow back. He hoped.
Tighe grimaced. And if it doesnt work?
Paenther met his gaze. If the Mage find a way to free Satanan from that blade, a missing hand is going to be the least of my worries.
He took the plate and started back down the stairs to the underground, but as he neared the bottom, a strange sensation began to crawl over his scalp, as if something were dripping into his head and spreading, taking root.
The plate of cinnamon rolls slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor. Voices whispered inside his head on a thick, cold mist as his skin crawled with recognition.
Enthrallment.
The mist rushed in, and he knew no more.
Skye rested her head back against the wall, trying to make sense of what had happened upstairs. A dull queasiness played in her stomach, a fear that if she didnt figure out a way to stop whatever it was and convince the Ferals she could be of help to them, she was in serious danger.
Paenther would protect her as long as he could. But if his chief decided she was dangerous, there would be nothing he could do.
It was as if the animals inside the Ferals were both drawn to her and repelled by her. Shed thought it was simply a matter of confusion on the animals part by their warriors animosity toward her.
Unfortunately, that didnt explain what had happened to Jag. Shed felt his animals pain, in a different way than shed felt it before. What was worse, Foxxs, Lyons, and Tighes animals had all been exhibiting echoes of that same pain that morning. As if something were wrong with them. Her gift should never cause a creature pain. Even if she wanted to hurt them, she couldnt. Not when the Shaman had bound her magic.
She stilled. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the Shaman had changed her gift in some fundamental way. As soon as Paenther returned, shed ask him.
The sound of footsteps carried to her. Paenthers footsteps. Her skin heated. Her heart fluttered with anticipation, her chest expanding and filling until the warmth was nearly too much to contain. How had Paenther become her entire world in such a short time?
But as he turned the corner, she sensed something was wrong. His walk was tense. His expression hard. And hed come without the food hed promised her.
Whats the matter? she asked as he unlocked her cell, his gaze fixed on the task.
We have to go.
Why? She wiped suddenly damp palms on the pants Paenther had loaned her. Had Lyon already ordered her to be destroyed?
Swinging the door open, glancing back over his shoulder, he reached his hand out to her. She placed her hand in his and followed him through the passage and into the gym.
Can you tell me what happened, Paenther? Her heart was beginning to race with fear.
He didnt reply. When they reached the hallway that led to the stairs, he instead led her to a pair of double doors. Releasing her hand for just a moment, he unlocked the doors and swung one open only enough for the two of them to slip through, then he closed it behind him.
He grabbed her hand and led her up the wide set of steep stairs. Daylight filtered in from above, lighting their way and glinting off spiderwebs and dust motes.
Where do these go? she asked softly. But again, he didnt answer. Paenther?
Her heart lurched. Alarms began to ring in her head. Paenther, look at me. She tried to jerk her hand from his grasp and couldnt. Look at me!
Finally, he turned his head, and met her gaze with the eyes of a stranger. Eyes dulled by magic.
He was enthralled.
Birik had come for them.
CHAPTER 15
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 couldnt 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 Biriks 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 couldnt let this happen.
But the only ones whod 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, werent 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. Ill be in touch. Just as soon as he figured out what to do with Paenthers 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 hadnt 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? Tighes voice roared in his head. I just shifted. And I cant shift back!
Lyon growled angrily from his lions throat. That witch has got to go.
Tighe! Delaneys 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. Hes carrying her off through the backyard, his hand over her mouth. Shes struggling.
Somethings seriously screwed up here, Tighe muttered.
Lyon had to agree. Olivia, Id appreciate it if youd stick around. We may need you. To Tighe he said, Lets 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. Weve got a problem.
He heard her groan. I wish I could say thats 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.
Wheres 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 Karas 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 dont look right, Roar, Tighe said.
And they didnt. They were unfocused. Paenther was almost certainly enthralled. Yet the witch wasnt 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?
Were going to have to take him down, he told Tighe. Dont kill her until I know what shes done to him.
Agreed.
As Tighe blocked Paenthers escape, snapping and growling, Lyon circled around. Bunching his powerful lions 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, were 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, dont let her escape. Shoot her if you have to. Lyon speared the witch with his lions gaze. What have you done? Why cant we shift back?
The Mage shook her dark head, her blue eyes wide and confused. I dont know.
Youre failing the test, witch. Give me one good reason why I shouldnt kill you right now.
Tears glittered in her eyes as her hands lifted in a helpless gesture, then dropped to her sides. I cant.
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 didnt 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 Biriks 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 lions amber gaze and did as he asked, telling him all she knew. All I could think to do was call to your animals.
So thats 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. Id hoped your animals would hear me so you could stop him. I dont 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. Cant you reverse it, Skye?
Ive 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.
Delaneys 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 Paenthers room, Kara said. And Paenthers room is next door to Jags.
This is clearly the witchs doing, the Shaman muttered. The question is how is she doing it? Jag, let me touch your head.
Slowly the fog of enchantment encasing Paenthers 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 enchantresss call trapped within strong ropes of magic. Magic thats not hers.
Paenthers 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.
Youre back.
He shook his head, trying to clear it. What happened?
What do you remember? Lyons voice sounded in his mind.
He thought about it for only a moment. I was getting Skyes 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 thats 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 enchantresss natural gift. She calls animals without always trying.
So we cant reclaim our human forms until those shackles are disabled? Jags voice was ripe with disbelief.
Lyon roared. Find a way to remove them, Shaman.
Trust me, warrior, Ive been trying. Im getting nowhere. I have a way with magic, but Im not a Mage.
Paenther pulled his hand from the Shamans grasp. Cut these ropes off me and give me the knife. Ill get rid of the shackles.
What good is a knife going to do? Lyon asked.
Im going to cut off my feet and hands and pull them off. Someone else will have to do my right hand.
Like hell. Theres no telling if that will work.
Theres one possibility, the Shaman said. Though I think its a long shot.
Name it.
Mind-skinning.
Paenther groaned silently. Yeah, that was going to feel good. If you think itll work, do it.
I actually have strong doubts that it will work. The very magic were trying to break will likely keep me from reaching into your memory. But Ive 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. Its too painful.
Skye protested. Its better than you cutting off your hands and feet.
Theyll grow back.
I can do this, Paenther.
Its going to hurt.
The Shaman shook his head. This may not hurt her at all. Mage minds are built differently. It certainly wont hurt her as it did Kara. Karas memory had been intentionally blocked. I had to strip away the layers of magic to reach what we needed. I shouldnt have to do that with the witch. Ill simply be accessing a memory no longer within easy reach of her conscious mind.
See? Skye cocked her head at him. Easy.
He didnt 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 yethe clenched his teeth against the pain as he stared at the lion, tiger, and jaguar pacing in front of his cage. A cage he wasnt likely to get far from after what just happened. There was so much more at stake here.
Youre not doing it unless Im with her.
Agreed, Lyon said. Wulfe?
Wulfe took a key off the hook and opened Paenthers 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 couldnt 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.
They wouldnt, of course. Theyd damn well better not even be thinking about it. With a low growl, he dipped his head and captured her mouth, claiming her. Marking her in front of his brothers. Shes mine.
The kiss eased his soul, and it was with reluctance that he drew back, cupping her face gently, briefly, before he turned on the Shaman with a fierce, animalistic growl.
You hurt her, you die.
Skye touched his arm. Paenther, its okay. I can handle it.
Ive seen what you can handle. His hard gaze never left the Shaman. But he has a deep-rooted prejudice against Mage, and Id hate for it to creep into his actions here.
To his credit, the Shaman met his gaze with perfect calm. I vow to you, Ill not intentionally harm her. Ive never mind-skinned a Mage, warrior. I cannot be certain of the outcome. In any way.
Paenther growled, but nodded. Do it.
The Shaman turned to Skye. Lie down.
Paenther held her hand as she lowered herself to the stone floor. As the Shaman knelt at her head, Paenther squatted at her side, stroking his thumb over her fingers where they curled around his.
The pain tore at his flesh, but his only concern was for Skye. He held her tight as the Shaman gripped her head in his hands. Hed been there when the Shaman skinned Karas mind. The paingoddess, the pain. Hed already seen Skye in pain when he still thought she was against him, and every time it had nearly killed him. He wouldnt be able to stand it again. Not when she was coming to mean too much to him.
As the Shaman began to chant, Paenther steeled himself for the first wave of agony to hit her.
How far back, witch?
Skye, Paenther snapped. Her name is Skye.
How old were you, Skye? the Shaman asked.
Eight.
The thought of her stretched out on that rock like hed been, abusedPaenthers hand clenched hers. Birik was going to die.
Her hand spasmed around his, her mouth tightening as her entire body went rigid.
It hurts, he growled.
Skye squeezed his hand. Its okay.
Like hell.
Im going to open your memories of that time, Skye. They may swallow you at first, pulling you back there, but well bring you forward again when its done. Its up to you to find the spell. Find it and repeat it. Are you ready?
Yes.
The Shaman resumed his chanting, different though equally unintelligible words, then stopped abruptly. We should be there.
Skyes body went rigid.
How old are you, Skye? the Shaman asked.
Eight. Her voice had changed. It was higher. Younger. As he watched her face, her bottom lip began to quiver, tears springing into her eyes. I want my mother.
She soundedeight. For one horrible moment, he glimpsed the little girl shed been.
Skye, the Shaman said, his tone surprisingly gentle. Are you still wearing the shackles?
Yes.
Has he put the cantric in you, yet?
Im notbig enough for a cantric. Her eyes went wide with fear. Hes coming. I hear him coming. Her voice broke. Hes going to hurt me again.
Paenther felt her frantic grip on his hand and stroked her head, hating, hating, the man whod done this to her. Hes not going to hurt you again, Skye. Never again.
The Shaman glanced at him, then spoke to her. Skye, youre a little older now. I want you to come forward a few days. To the day he removed your shackles.