Zaphene didnt steal my soul, Foxx wailed. She didnt!
Fraid she did, Cub. Look on the bright side. Biriks sacrificing you tonight just saves the Ferals from having to destroy one of their own.
Foxx had turned pale, his freckles stark against his skin. Im ruined, he whispered.
Vhyper chuckled. Birik plans to strip away your conscience before the ritual tonight just in case anything unforeseen happens. Youll be firmly in his camp soon enough. And after midnight? Youll be dead. He shrugged. We all will.
Vhype. Paenther nailed Vhyper with his gaze. Well get out of this, Vhyper. Together. Dont ever doubt it.
He saw it again. That flicker of awareness, of humanity behind those cold eyes, and the memory of those words that Vhyper had said over and over again as theyd lain trapped in Ancretas dungeon all those years ago. His friend had heard him.
Vhyper frowned, then turned toward the door. Enjoy your fantasy, B.P. I have a feast to indulge in before our big night.
With Vhypers departure, the small cell turned quiet as a tomb.
Paenther eyed the youngest Feral, a deep regret encasing his heart. Dont despair, Cub. The evil controlling Vhyper is a liar. We cant trust anything he says. But, if he was right, if the real Vhyper had been behind the gut spill, hed been telling the truth.
Foxx looked up, his eyes at once furious and terrified. She didnt take my soul, B.P. I know it. I know it.
Jag grunted. Doesnt really matter whether or not you have a soul. Theyre controlling you. He eyed Paenther ruefully. I hope to hell you still have a plan.
Paenther sighed. So do I.
Skyes stomach was in knots, her eyes burning with unshed tears, her skin crawling with fear as she led Faithful and the other three deer down to the Hall of Feasts as Birik had ordered. Behind her, the two sentinels followed. All four deer pressed against her, feeling her fear, but it was Faithful she clutched the tightest.
The moment shed stepped outside, with the two sentinels at her back, shed realized what would happen. Faithful would be the first to answer her call. Shed tried to send her away, but her friend had refused to leave her side. And one of Biriks sentinels had slipped a rope around her neck.
Skye struggled to take a deep breath, to find some semblance of calm. If all went as planned, the deer wouldnt die. None of them would, creature or Feral.
But nothing was going as planned. And it was nearly midnight.
A hundred things could go wrong, Tighe had said. And it seemed they already had.
As she neared the Hall of Feasts, she heard the sounds of the tables being cleared and removed. The hall was huge, with a soaring, irregular ceiling covered in stalactites, and a floor cut this way and that by columns and curtains formed over millions of years from the stone. Not only was the hall the largest of the rooms in the caverns, it was also one the most sumptuously furnished after Biriks apartments.
Thousands of lightwicks floated through the air, gleaming off the gilt, crystal-laden tables and red brocade dining chairs. Thick rugs covered the floors, for though the stalactites remained, like icicles frozen in time, none dared drip in this place.
When shed first come to the caverns, musicians had played, accompanying every meal with a symphony of sound. But that was before. No music sang in hearts robbed of souls.
As she led Faithful and the other deer down the wide entrance passage she saw that the cavern had been decorated for the Moon Feastthe most powerful night of the Mage calendar, when the energies of the moon and Earth were at their zenith. The lightwicks floating above the hall had been shot through with rainbows, the colors snapping and glittering over the rock.
As shed suspected, the hall was being cleared, the tables carried out and the rugs rolled and removed. Shed never done the ritual in this hall, and she wondered why Birik needed such a large space. The question did nothing to ease the ever-tightening knots in her stomach.
Already, in the cleared area on the near side of the natural columns that divided the hall, fires had been lit in great caldrons, forming a large ritual circle. Set within the circle were four cages. Leading her companions into the hall, she saw that the cages were filled nearly to overflowing with snakes.
How many creatures does Birik intend to kill tonight?
It was a moment before she realized that beyond the columns were other fires. A second ring.
Two circles?
Of course. Birik would raise power through the sacrifice of Vhyper and his snakes, while he expected her to do the same with the other Ferals and her deer. If the two energies melded and joined the way he obviously hoped they would, the combination might well be explosive.
She skirted the first circle, heading toward the second. As she cleared the columns, her pulse began to skate, fast and erratic.
Within the fire ring sat three wood platforms, tilted at a slight angle. Jag and Foxx lay chained and unconscious on two of them, their heads at the lower ends. On the floor beneath each platform sat a large vat ready to catch the blood.
Paenther lay on the floor in the middle of the circle, naked and staked as hed been the night theyd freed the Daemons. But like his friends, unconscious. Or enthralled.
Her stomach rolled. Shed been practicing the chant to remove the shackles since she entered the caverns, but it wasnt going to do an ounce of good if they stayed like this.
Unconscious Ferals werent going to be able to fight, shackles or no shackles.
Dear Mother, what am I supposed to do, now? Please dont let these men or these creatures in my care die.
She led her small menagerie between the fire pits and into the circle, trying not to stare at Paenther, but fear and love welled up inside her until she couldnt look away. His black hair hung back from his face, revealing the tattoo on his chest and throat, and the claw marks across his eye. Even enthralled, there was a latent power about him that drew her, that excited her on a hundred levels. A hard strength and a silent bone-deep promise of retribution to anyone who dared cross him.
How was she ever going to live if he died?
She forced herself to turn away. He wasnt going to die. She refused to allow it.
With a touch of her hands, she ushered the deer to the empty platform she knew Birik intended for her pets slaughter. Struggling against tears, she tied them loosely around the necks with the ropes attached to an eyebolt screwed into the rock. Then she knelt and calmed them as best she could, meeting Faithfuls dark-eyed gaze, praying she could save them all. At the sound of quiet steps behind her, she turned to find Vhyper approaching.
Part of her, the part beaten and abused too many times within the walls of these caverns, wanted to ignore him, or to run and cower against the wall. But something had happened to her in Feral House. Within Paenthers strong, gentle arms, shed recovered a lot of the strength shed once had. And it was a strength she refused to lose again.
Taking a deep breath, she rose and faced him, her fists clutching the skirt of the dress shed donned after she returned.
Big night, Vhyper said with a grin that didnt reach his eyes.
She tried to reconcile this cold, dangerous man with the friend who had once risked everything to keep Paenther alive.
Lacing her fingers together at her waist, she cocked her head at him. You do know Birik means to kill you, right?
Of course.
Why would you sacrifice your life for him, Vhyper?
He tugged at his earring. Not for him, little witch. For Satanan.
Youd give up your life to free the very evil youre sworn to fight? An evil that will destroy everyone and everything youve ever cared about? That will decimate this world?
Something flickered in his eyes. A knowledge. A pain.
Paenther was right. The real Vhyper, the one with the soul, was still in there. But it was the other one who struck with the speed of a snake, backhanding her and knocking her to the ground. Face throbbing, she watched the large Feral walk away.
Pushing herself to her feet, she turned to find Birik coming toward her, a black snake wrapped around his arm, a second curved around his neck. As he neared, she looked away as she always had.
Its time to begin. When I tell you to, start your dance, then mount your Feral. Youll have to ready yourself this time, unless youd like one of my men to do it.
She jerked her head, going cold at the thought. So many times her body had been used, in so many ways. But after knowing Paenthers touch, the thought of anyone else touching her made her ill. I can do it.
Birik nodded. The sorcerers will drench you in the blood of the deer. But not until you climax will we sacrifice the three Ferals, and well do it all at once. The surge of power should beastounding. Prepare yourself.
He turned away and lifted his voice, sending a high call echoing over the stone, signaling the Mage to gather. Sorcerers, sentinels, and witches alike appeared through the doorways and rushed toward the circles.
Skyes heart clutched. The Ferals were still unconscious.
Birik As he turned back, she looked away before he saw the worry in her eyes and started to suspect its cause. I needI need them awake.
Theyre safer this way. Order the panther to get hard for you and you should be able to mount him. If not, use your hand.
If they remained unconscious all was lost. And if Birik suspected anything, hed never release them from their enthrallment.
Her heart pounded as she hazarded a glance at her tormentor and risked saying too much. I cant feel their animals. ImIm afraid I wont be able to call the power through them. It wasnt entirely true. She could still feel the animals, but their energy was low beneath the magic. It was possible she really wouldnt be able to pull the same level of power through them.
She felt Biriks eyes on her, his cold gaze chilling her. Youre right. Their power is greatly dampened. But he didnt move. He continued to stand there, spearing her with his frigid gaze until she was certain he knew every thought in her head, could read every plan. She didnt move. Didnt react. Her gaze held steady in the center of his tunic-clad chest.
Finally, he turned and went to the Ferals. One after the other, he touched them, freeing them from the enchantment that would have eventually worn off on its own if there had been time.
Skye watched them, her breath held as she waited, but nothing happened. They didnt move. Biriks enchantment was like a drug in the system, a drug that took minutes to wear off. And they didnt have minutes. Midnight was upon them.
Their animals woke, rising, greeting her sluggishly. But the men remained enthralled.
They were out of time!
As the sorcerers in their bloodred hooded robes assembled outside the twin circles of flames, Birik laid a knife on top of the half column between them. Skye looked at it and knew it must be the famed Daemon blade, the prison of Satanan and his horde for five thousand years.
A chill slithered down her spine.
Birik nodded at her, a silent admonition to prepare herself, then stripped off his tunic, leaving his skin bare. Like her, he would perform the ritual sky-clad, wearing nothing but the blood of the sacrifices.
She watched Paenther, trying not to stare, not to make it too obvious she was desperate for him to wake up. She felt as if her heart would stop from the pounding fear.
She gripped the hem of her dress and pulled it off in a single move, tossing it below one of the platforms.
As she watched, Paenthers eyes opened and blinked, but didnt stray from the ceiling. Wake up completely, Paenther. Please wake up.
Glancing at Jag and Foxx, she found them both watching her with eyes that were still glazed.
The cool, damp air of the cavern caressed her skin as she went to Paenther. Birik had told her to prepare herself, but the thought of touching herself with the two Ferals watching was too much, even for her. But there were other ways. She knelt beside Paenther.
Can you hear me?
I can, Beauty, though my head feels clogged with cat hair.
She bent low over him. Maybe I can help you clear it. She kissed him, pressing her lips to his. His mouth opened beneath hers, his tongue sweeping in to claim hers. Moment by moment the kiss changed in intensity, from soft and lazy to hard and demanding. When she pulled back, sharp clarity cut through his eyes
Where are the others?
Theyre here. Its midnight.
Beware of Foxx, Skye. Hes been turned.
She wanted to ask him why he thought so, and how it had happened, but there wasnt time. Instead, she stood to find the sorcerers circling the fire pits, Mage sentinels standing in a larger circle around them. If Paenther was right, and Foxx was no longer on their side, it was two against so many. It would take a miracle for them to win.
But if she didnt free them, they would absolutely die.
As the sorcerers took up the midnight chant, Skye turned into her dance. In her head, she repeated the spell to free their shackles. Her gaze went to Foxx, then skirted to Jag. He watched her, waiting. Ready. When she looked down at Paenther, she found him staring up at her with hatred in his expression and love in his eyes.
Witch, he snarled loudly. Beauty, he whispered, his voice low nearly to the point of silence. That single word, said with reverence, sang in her heart.
It was time.
Skye flung back her head, closed her eyes, and said the words to release their shackles. She felt the moment the animals within them roared in approval. She opened her eyes to a flash of sparkling lights as the Ferals shifted into their animal forms.
Stop them! Birik roared from across the hall.
Within a heartbeat, the Mage were on the animals with knives and magic.
On two of the animals. Foxx walked toward her, still a man, unmolested by the Mage. In his eyes was a coldness shed never seen before. A coldness she knew all too well.
Paenther was right.
Theyd stolen Foxxs soul.
She turned and ran, but Mage blocked her way, and Foxx caught her before shed gotten out of the hall.
Skye! Get out of the cavern. Paenthers voice rang in her head.
But it was too late. For all of them.
Foxx jammed his thumb beneath her ear. Darkness descended over her mind.
Too late.
CHAPTER 24
No sooner had he shifted into his animal form and leaped onto his feet, than Paenther found himself surrounded by Mage wielding knives. They couldnt enthrall him in this form, but if he didnt move fast and lethally, theyd rip out his heart before he ever got a chance to attack.
The only way to beat a Mage in battle was to remove his hands so he couldnt enthrall, and that was exactly what he did. He leaped at the nearest opponent, clamped his jaw around the Mages wrist and ripped his hand off his arm. The bastard would grow another within the hour, but for now, that was one hand that wouldnt enchant or wield a knife against him. He only had to dispose of about fifty-nine more.
Jag! Paenther called telepathically. Find Skye and the Daemon blade and get out of here!
No way.
Beauty?
Searing pain tore through his abdomen as a blade slid between his ribs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the jaguar in the middle of a battle as fierce as his own.
Beauty?
Where was Foxx? If hed already gotten to Skye
Thats an order, Jag!
Jags snort sounded in his head. Tough shit, Geronimo. Youre not expendable. Were leaving this place together, or not at all. How many Mage do we have in here?
Thirty something. And two turned Ferals.
Oh yeah, forgot about that. Were fucked.
Paenther grunted. Get free if you can and find Birik. Hes the only one who has to die.
Roger.
Paenther tore off another hand, and another, as a blade sliced through his right hindquarter. He stumbled beneath the pain and muscle damage. Hed heal, if he got the chance. The Mage were bearing down hard.
His gaze searched frantically for Skye. Beauty?
No answer. And there was no sign of Foxx.
In his heart, he knew the young Feral whod fought by his side now fought for his enemy.
And he had Skye.
Skye? The beloved voice rang in her head.
Paenther.
Beauty! Where are you?
I dont know. Murmured voices sounded all around her, but she was still struggling back to consciousness and had yet to open her eyes. How long ago had Foxx grabbed her, knocking her out? Now she lay on her back on a thick rug, still naked, as shed been when the ritual had begun.
Paenther, are you okay? Is Jag? So many Mage.
We have our hands fullor our mouths full, as the case may bebut were holding our own. Im fine now that I know youre all right. Ill find you, Skye. When you figure out where you are, tell me. Ill find you!
Skye opened her eyes slowly, a little at a time, taking in her situation, her surroundings. Her heart sank as a familiar gleaming, sumptuous decor filled her sight.
Im in Biriks apartments, Paenther.
The chambers gave away nothing of their cave roots. The walls had been painted and hung with bright red and yellow silk; though thick stalactites clung to the ceiling, theyd been sealed against the moisture that pervaded most of the rest of the cavern. Gilt furniture filled the chamber, ornately carved tables laden with decorative crystal and power orbs.
On the walls hung the heads of animals, beasts whose lives Birik had sacrificed in the hunt for more power. The heads included several black bears whod come to her in the woods over the years, a couple of wildcats, and four stags, with their huge racks of antlers. Each one had been drawn to her gift. Each had died at Biriks hands as shed danced in their blood.
She hated him. Hated him!
What are we doing in here? Foxx asked. Why arent we out there fighting?
Seal the doors!
As Biriks voice broke through the others, she froze, then slowly turned her head.
Birik sat on a large throne at the far end of the room, his three most powerful sorcerers on one side, Vhyper and Foxx on his other. In an arc around them, stood twelve sentinels, each armed with half a dozen blades. Biriks private guard.
PaentherShe quickly told him what she saw.
Birik looked at the young Feral with the disdain he held for all Therians. Youre in here instead of out there because I wont have you destroying them. Or helping them.
His cold gaze flicked over her and stilled. Youre awake.
Skye struggled to her feet and forced herself to face him.
Birik stepped down off his throne and crossed to her, clamping his hand around her neck the moment he reached her. You freed them. How did you learn to remove the shackles?
She couldnt speak through the hand cutting off her air.
Mind-skinning, Foxx replied for her, his voice bored.
Birik squeezed. You helped them.
Foxx snorted. Shes B.P.s girlfriend. If she werent Mage, hed probably make her his mate.
If she werent Mage. The words cut, yet she knew they were the truth. Even if they managed to make it out of here alive, there was no future for them. Paenther could never take her as his mate.
Biriks grip tightened until she could barely stand, could barely see through the pain. A fraction more and hed crush her windpipe or snap her neck. You willingly spread your thighs for that piece of animal trash?
Fury erupted through the desperation. He wasnt trash! The Mage had always considered themselves superior to the Therians, yet it was the Therians, the Ferals, who acted with honor and courage. Who fought to save the world instead of destroy it.
She speared him with her gaze, something she had not had the courage to do in too many years. The flicker of surprise in his eyes pleased her.
Skye! Paenthers voice cut through the pain. I need a distraction. Pull the power, for me, little witch. The good power.
Cantremember.
Ill say it with you.
As Biriks hand threatened to snap her neck, Paenthers voice began chanting in her head. The words Ezekiel had taught them.
Skye closed her eyes, mouthing the words, saying them in her head as she pulled her power, the true power, through the only warm-blooded animal in the room, the one inside Foxx.
Pain sliced through her chest as her cantric objected, but with the pain came a warm rush of energy. Gathering the power close, she let it grow and grow, then opened her eyes, trapped Birik in her gaze, and threw it at him.
Disbelief flashed in Biriks eyes a split second before he released her and flew backward, crashing into the table behind him. Crystal and power orbs shattered as the table collapsed beneath his slender weight.
Behind her, the door splintered, deep growls filling the room as the two jungle cats leaped inside. A jaguar and a black panther, the beautiful black panther shed fallen in love with.
Skye, behind you!
She whirled too late. Birik hadnt stayed down and now his arm went around her neck, yanking her against his chest as his knife slid deep into her chest on a river of fire.
You blast your power again, and your heart goes with me, he said loudly enough for all to hear. And if your Feral makes another move, the result will be the same. If you move, cat, she dies.
Paenther froze, poised to spring at the Mage whose blade was sunk hilt deep in Skyes chest.
Beauty!
Paenther, no. Dont stop. Kill him!
Hell kill you without hesitation, I can see it in his eyes.
My life doesnt matter.
It matters. You matter.
The trouble was, how in the hell was he going to save her without getting himself enthralled in the process? A knife between Biriks eyes, another in that wrist. Tricky, since he had to be in human form to throw.
Jag, can you free a knife or two from these bastards?
Nothing Id enjoy more, Hiawatha. But unless youve learned to throw with your tail, youre seriously risking enthrallment.
Just get me the knives, Jag. Ill do the rest.
Without hesitation, Jag went on the attack, tearing the blade hands off the closest two sentinels and tossing the metal. In a flash Paenther shifted and grabbed the knives.
But as he prepared to throw them, he froze, caught in some kind of magical net. Too late, he saw them, the three sorcerers on Biriks right staring at him with eyes of evil, murmuring beneath their breaths. Pain sliced through his head and down through his body.
Jag, get out! Theyve caught me. Get out before they trap us both.
Shit, the jaguar muttered, but the shout of the guard told him Jag had done as hed commanded for once.
Let the jaguar go, Birik said. The others will catch him. And if they dont, I dont really care. This is the one I want.
Pain leaped inside him, scorching him from the inside out, but he watched with tearing relief as Birik slid his knife from Skye and pushed her away from him.
Skye fell to the floor, struggling for breath, but her heart was still in her chest, still beating. To an immortal, that was all that mattered. Her head turned, and she met his gaze, those blue eyes pained. For him.
What are you going to do to him? Foxx asked with a bored drawl. Paenther turned to study the young Feral hed known for three years, still trying to figure out if he were merely being controlled by evil or if he had in fact been turned. At the moment, though, it didnt seem to matter. Not unless Foxx was one hell of an actor. Because he seemed utterly in league with Birik. Are you going to kill him?
Kill him? No. Im merely taking his soul. I have three Ferals at my disposal now. When they catch the jaguar, Ill have four. Id never believed catching all the Ferals was a possibility, but Im beginning to realize, your foolish loyalty to one another might make it ridiculously easy. As long as I have you, the others will come to me. And when I have you all, and have taken all your souls, youll open the Daemon blade the way it was meant to be opened and free Satanan once and for all.
Like hell. But he was right. The Ferals were loyal to a fault. The others would mount rescue attempt after rescue attempt until they succeeded or were all caught. Just as the seventeen had all those years ago, and died, their animals never to return. It wasnt in the nature of a Feral to abandon his friends and brothers. And it was that very loyalty that would be their undoing.
The pain began to swirl in his head, a strange-colored fog encasing his mind and body. Sharp, invisible hooks dug into him, pulling. He found Skye, locked his gaze with hers, holding on against the magical forces trying to remove his soul.
Pain and fear for him bled from her eyes.
With a swift and terrible understanding he knew the moment he lost his soul his love for her, for anything, would die. Hed hurt her as he became a tool of evil, a weapon against the men hed sacrifice his life to protect.
His body would continue to live and to kill, but the man he was, the man capable of love and sacrifice, would die.
As the pain overtook him, he yelled to the heavens, pouring out his rage and despair.
Skye stumbled to her feet, her wounds nearly healed, her heart crumbling beneath the weight of the terrible crime Birik was perpetrating on the man she loved. On the Ferals. On the world.
Vhyper stood well behind Birik, now, a man with a cold, emotionless face, his hands clasped behind his back.
Skye went to him.
He loves you, she said quietly. Desperately. He risked everything to come back here to save you.
Hes a fool, Vhyper said coldly. But something flickered in his eyes. Theres nothing I can do. His voice was different, warmer, filled with pain. The good man.
Risking everything, she gripped his arm. Youre the only one who can save him, Vhyper. Ancreta made you what you are. She caused the injury inside you that let the Mage get their claws into you. Now theyre going to destroy Paenther.
Vhypers gaze looked elsewhere, but the fact he hadnt shaken her off or hit her gave her hope he was listening. But listening wasnt enough.
Vincent!
His gaze snapped to hers, a look of terrible struggle in his eyes.
Dont let Ancreta win, Vincent!
Skye saw the moment the cold rushed back into Vhypers eyes, dousing the humanity. With a casual flick of his wrist, he backhanded her, sending her slamming against the wall. She slid to the floor, her head pounding, her body aching. But she felt the creature inside Vhyper rear up, hissing and spitting. Not at her. At something within him. An invisible foe. A battle between good and evil in its purest form raged inside the viper shape-shifter, each seeking possession of his body. His mind. His soul.
She tried to rise, but her head spun dizzily, and she sank back to the floor and crawled close to him, trying to murmur the words to give him power, but they wouldnt come!
Paenther! But Paenther was no longer in his animal form and couldnt hear her telepathically. If she called to him out loud, shed only attract Biriks attention to herself and possibly to the battle going on inside Vhyper.
Her head and body aching, she struggled to her feet, where Paenther could see her. Where she might be able to catch his eye and beg his help.
But when his gaze turned toward her, his eyes held no warmth, no love. Only pain.
And the cold emptiness of the soulless.
CHAPTER 25
The cold that rushed through Paenther as the evil spread over his heart was sharp and biting, but wondrous. A frigid cleansing that rid him of doubts and worry, of guilt and sorrow and conscience.
His body bled with pain at the transformation, but it was the pain of rebirth, and he exulted in it.
Behind Birik, Skye rose, her gaze clinging to him, boring into him. In a voice so soft, only a Feral would hear, she whispered to him.
Paenther, I need the words. Help me save Vhyper! Help me save you!
Why would he want to be saved?
Paenther, give me the words!
She needed the chant. But the chant gave her power.
I love you, Paenther.
What difference did it make how she felt about him? The old Paenther was gone. The reborn Paenther had no need for love.
But deep inside his slowly hardening heart, a fire flared. A desperate love. A fierce need to help her. The fire battled back the cold that tried to encase his heart. And suddenly he was saying the words, his voice ringing through the cavern.