Ecstasy Untamed (Feral Warriors #6)(93)

Faith looked at him. "I need clothes."

Hawke rather liked the look of the T-shirt . . . and nothing else . . . but he caught Jag noticing just how little she had on and nodded. "Hurry."

An impish grin bloomed on her face a second before she disappeared in a spray of sparkling lights and . . . was gone. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of the speeding falcon shooting over the second-floor banister.

"What the f**k?" Jag gaped. "She disappeared!"

Hawke found himself grinning with pride at the disbelief on his brothers' faces. "No. She's just incredibly quick."

They were still standing there in stunned disbelief when the small falcon dive-bombed them twenty seconds later. As she shifted back to her human form beside him, Kougar and Jag drew claws.

Hawke shoved her behind him. "Stand down! Faith . . . Falkyn . . . take it easy in the house, at least until they get used to your newfound speed."

She peeked at them from around his shoulder. "Sorry." Hearing the laughter in her voice, he glanced at her. She was grinning like a pixie.

Jag laughed out loud. "Do you realize all the ways we can use that kind of speed? Hot damn."

Kougar just shook his head, but there was a smile tugging at his mouth.

"War room!" Lyon's roar echoed through the house.

As the five headed down the hall, Hawke glanced at Faith. The smile she offered him was so full of delight and pride and love, it was all he could do not to snatch her up and kiss her right there. He brushed his hand down her back, over the soft cotton sweater she'd donned along with a pair of jeans. He'd never known a woman to dress so fast. Then again, no other woman was his Falkyn.

As they reached the war room, Kara was just entering. She beamed and threw her arms around Faith. "You're back."

Faith laughed, then sobered. "Did bringing me into my animal exhaust you again?"

"No. Not at all. I feel great."

"I'm so glad." Faith's words rang with heartfelt relief.

They entered the room to find the others waiting. When they'd taken their seats, Lyon stopped pacing and turned to face them.

"The Shaman called. There's a witch in the Mage Resistance, as they're calling themselves now, who has the ability to sense Daemon energy in the Earth's energy layer. It's been all but nonexistent until the past months. It spiked while the wraith Daemons were on their rampage, then dipped again. For the past two weeks, there's been some sort of strange activity. Now, suddenly, it's spiked again."

"They've freed more Daemons?" Paenther asked.

"She doesn't think so, no. She says it feels more like a power source. As if someone's funneling energy into the blade that imprisons the Daemons, feeding them directly."

"Empowering Satanan," Kougar murmured.

Lyon nodded. "That power source has been pinpointed to a spot in a forest near Warsaw."

"Maxim?" Faith breathed.

"The satellite image reveals a fortress. A castle. And there's more." Lyon's gaze turned to Faith, an ache in his eyes that had Hawke immediately on edge. "I would spare you this if I could." The Chief of the Ferals shook his head and lifted a remote. "I can't."

The one flat screen that remained in the room flared to life. Lyon tapped a few buttons on the laptop open on the table in front of him, and a video image filled the screen. The missing new Ferals stood in what appeared to be some kind of ancient castle. Or dungeon. Polaris, Lepard, Croc, Whit, and Maxim. Oddly, they were all dressed in white turtlenecks and dark pants, now. Only Maxim wore a sport coat.

"Are they really in Poland?" Hawke demanded.

Lyon paused the video image. "It would seem so. Delaney used her sources to confirm that a small private jet left Dulles Airport the night they attacked us, and security surveillance reveals these five climbing on board. Maxim undoubtedly clouded human minds to get them off the ground that quickly and in the middle of the night. As for whether or not we can be certain they are in Poland." Lyon shrugged. "Decide for yourself." He pressed the remote, and once more the video rolled.

Maxim stepped forward with a tight, sadistic smile that had Hawke's hands balling into fists. "Hello, Faith. It's time for you to come to me, now. You belong to me, and we both know it." He smiled, but his smile was cold. Cruel. "You will come." He stepped back to reveal two girls, teenagers, their clothes torn, their faces badly bruised, the ropes binding their hands looped around large hooks hanging from the ceiling.

Beside him, Faith gasped. Hawke reached for her hand. "You know them."

"Yes. Paulina and Maria."

Maxim stepped back in front of the camera. "You can save them, Faith. Trade yourself for them. Have the Ilinas bring you here, to my castle." He rattled off what sounded like some kind of address in Polish. "In six hours, I'll begin cutting off their fingers and toes, one by one. If they don't bleed to death first, I'll then begin cutting off their arms a few inches at a time."

Faith had turned white as a polar bear's fur. Hawke gripped the back of her neck, ready to yank back her chair and shove her head between her knees if she started to faint. "Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe."

"Six hours," Maxim snapped. "I know you're a bird shifter now. Come to me through the southernmost chimney. It's the only part of the castle not warded against Ilinas. Or Ferals."