Anathema (Causal Enchantment #1)(48)

I wondered what did live here. “What sort of wildlife is there?”

Silence answered. I turned. And froze.

Caden was gone. My eyes darted about, nervously scanning the woods. “Caden!” I called in a harsh whisper, then held my breath, listening. Nothing. “Caden!” again, this time the desperation in my voice unmistakable.

A branch cracked. “Oh, thank God—” I began, turning.

An enormous black panther stood beside a tree a mere five feet away, the head of a snake locked in its jaws. It placed a paw on the snake’s body and then, with a sharp twist of its neck, it ripped the snake’s head off and tossed it aside. The snake’s body—at least six feet long—dropped to the ground, twitching.

The panther’s attention now moved to me, its ocher eyes regarding me with interest. Or hunger.

I let out a squeak, scampering several steps back before common sense prevailed and I froze. The cat, its freakishly great height and build matching Max’s, lowered its head and sniffed the ground, seemingly unconcerned by my presence. I knew better than to relax, though. There were razor–sharp teeth under that soft, unperturbed muzzle.

I watched in horror as the panther shifted its weight from side to side, then quietly edged in. It moved in close enough that its snout grazed my chest, stopping on my pendant. It let out a low snarl, its lip curling to display a lethal set of fangs.

And I thought I’d die by a vampire bite. I wondered if there was any point in running. Would running make the kill more pleasurable for it? Untestable—my muscles were locked with terror.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” I felt an arm wrap protectively around my shoulder and Caden pulled my rigid body close to him.

I let out a small gasp of relief. “What do we do?” I whispered, trying not to move my lips, my focus glued on the beast giving me a sniff–down.

“Just stay still.”

“Or what?”

“This is Scout.”

“It has a name?” My eyes widened.

Caden chuckled. “Yeah. Like it?”

“Depends on if it’s going to maul me.”

“No. He’s my pet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bishop and I have a small army of animals to guard the mountains and warn us of any visitors. Better protection.”

The panther named Scout lifted his head to peer into my eyes, his face only inches away. I shrank back against Caden.

“Don’t move. He’s just curious. He won’t react if you don’t surprise him. He knows you’re scared.”

I averted my eyes to the left, focusing on a branch as the giant cat inspected me, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye for fear of screaming. He finally dropped his head to sniff my shoes. Caden kept his arm around my shoulder, holding me tightly to him.

“How is he yours?” I whispered

“I bit him. He belongs to me. I’m his master.”

I frowned. “So, what does that make him? A werecat?”

“We call them werebeasts. They’re a bit different from human vampires. They crave flesh more than blood. They’re immortal and they heal quickly, like us. But they become freakishly big, usually doubling in size.”

“Like Max,” I said, thinking of my giant canine friend. That’s what he was. A werebeast.

I felt Caden nod. “They’re a protector, bound to the person who transformed them.”

“That means Max has a master.” It had to be Mortimer. He had introduced him as his guard dog.

“Yeah, probably. The cool thing is, I can communicate with Scout from anywhere in the valley.”

“How?”

“Telepathically. We can talk back and forth to each other in our heads. He reports in to me.”

“Reports in to you …” I gasped. “Son of a—”

At my unexpected outburst, Scout took three lightning–quick steps back, snarling menacingly.

“Easy, boy,” Caden cooed, sliding in to stand between the panther and me. When the cat finally quieted, he turned to look at me. “What is it?”

“What if Max is Mortimer’s spy? He’s always tailing me, sniffing me and stuff.” He’s just following orders. He doesn’t really care about me after all.

“Makes sense,” Caden murmured in agreement. “I warned you, didn’t I?”

“But, why?” I twisted my face up in confusion, my hands going to my forehead. “To protect me from Sofie? Max doesn’t seem too concerned when she’s around. Viggo, though … he gets that dog riled up …” They’re hiding something. But what? “I’m such an idiot,” I mumbled.

“No; you couldn’t have known.”

“I should have. You’re right. I am a naïve fool.”

Caden sighed. “They probably … found your weakness—whatever it is—and exploited it, sucking you into their world, making you trust them. That’s what our kind is good at—manipulation.”

My weakness? What could Sofie have … My loneliness. That was it. That was my weakness. She used human companionship to lure me in, to make me want to be around her. And I—a lonely, helpless puppy looking for friendship—lapped it up. But how had she figured that out so quickly? Was she that perceptive, or was I that obvious—that pathetic?