Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(85)

He heard the heavy tread of footsteps. Company. He let his forehead fall to the back of Faith's head and almost got a broken nose when she reared back.

"Still both human, I see," Lyon drawled.

"It's been an eyeful," Kougar replied.

Hawke glared at him. "You said you hadn't watched."

Kougar shrugged. "I lied." He turned to their chief. "Any word on the cave?"

"They're not making any progress. Like so many things now, the magic the Mage used seems to have threads of Daemon magic woven into it. We may never break through."

Hawke growled, tired of lying on the floor while the discussion went on high above his head. He pushed to his feet, dragging a struggling Faith with him. She kicked out, catching him hard in the shin. He pressed her face-first against the wall where he could still see his brothers. "She has to be cured."

"Ariana believes the exorcism can be performed in any mystic circle, now that they know how it works." Lyon opened his mouth to continue, then closed it with a frown and a shake of his head.

Hawke read him all too easily. "There was an enormous but at the end of that sentence, Roar. Quit trying to spare me."

Lyon met his gaze, his own somber. "They aren't sure. And if it doesn't work, they're worried they may make the situation worse. They may make the magic's hold on her stronger. They want to give it more time. A day or two."

Hawke growled.

"No," Kougar said. "It has to be done now. Hawke's connection is nearly gone, and Faith's situation is driving the nails into his coffin. Separating them isn't the answer. We've got to get her cured."

Lyon's gaze met Hawke's, a deep well of feeling in his eyes. "Then we do it now."

An hour later, they were gathered in the mystic circle behind Feral House. Dawn had broken, though the sun had yet to rise. The earth smelled damp and new.

Hawke stood within the fire circle, with Faith locked in his arms, still struggling. Unlike the goddess stone, this spot didn't possess strong enough mystic energies to create a barrier through which she couldn't pass. If he let her go, she'd escape, and they'd never get her cured. At least they were dressed, more or less. He'd escaped the prison cell long enough to pull on a pair of clean sweatpants and T-shirt from the gym, then returned with several more shirts, afraid he'd have trouble getting one on Faith. He had. She'd shredded two, but the third hung to midthigh, covering the important parts. It was the best he could do with her still literally fighting him tooth and nail.

As Ariana and the Shaman chanted, the magic rose, sliding over him, different from the cold, creeping sensation of the cave's magic. This was more of a pressure that came and went, like snakes wrapping themselves around his limbs and torso and moving on.

Within his arms, Faith cried out, arching back as if in terrible pain.

"Hold on, Smiley. Hold on. Let them free you."

She thrashed in his arms, then cried out again, over and over, each cry more brutal than the last, flaying him. But unlike last time, her body didn't bend in impossible angles, breaking bones. If that started happening, he was going to lose it, there was no doubt in his mind. Simply watching her in pain was bad enough. Deep inside, the hawk's distress melded with Hawke's own silent roar. It was all he could do not to carry her away, to free her from the pain. But he wasn't that lost, not yet. Her only freedom came through exorcising the infection.

Faith screamed, gripping her head, no longer trying to fight him. He held her now, keeping her upright as her body sagged against his. The deepest, most primitive part of him began to roar in earnest, hating this. They were hurting her! The red haze began to swirl. Faith screamed again, and the haze rushed in faster, thicker. He was losing it. He had to help her.

His claws erupted.

He was going to hurt her! Releasing her, he stumbled back, watching her sink to the ground. Strong hands gripped his shoulders.

"Easy, buddy," Tighe's voice. "Ease down."

"It's done." Ariana's voice barely cut through the screaming in his head.

Too late. The fury roared up, crashing over him, and he was fighting, claws raking flesh, fangs sinking into blood.

The exquisite sensation of shifting rushed over him. Sparkling lights consumed him.

Despair swallowed him whole.

And he knew no more.

Chapter Eighteen

Faith pushed herself to her feet, panting, drenched with sweat, her mind a wreck. Confused. She blinked at the fires in a ring of pots beneath the trees, illuminating the woods brightening with dawn. Feral House with its glowing windows stood a short distance away. Around her, Ferals stood, tense, groaning, while behind her she heard the sound of growling, of battle. Hawke. Even without looking, she knew.

She whirled just as he began to sparkle, watching with horror as he disappeared in a flash of colored lights, the great red-tailed hawk he'd become screeching and lifting into the air.

"No! Hawke!" And it all came rushing back, the darkness, the way she'd fought him. The pain as the magic was driven out of her. "Hawke!" But all she could do was watch as he disappeared over the house.

Follow him! The falcon spirit's will exploded in her mind. Quickly!

Faith ran to Lyon. "I have to go after him. I can help him." She thrust out her wrists and the bands that bound her to human form. "Free me!"