Obsession Untamed (Feral Warriors #2)(34)

Normal was an illusion, of course.

His clone still lived. And as long as his clone lived, as long as his soul was split, he could never be right.

Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d be right again even if his soul were returned to him. Not until he found a way to get Delaney Randall out of his head.

From the moment he’d regained consciousness beneath the healer’s care, he’d thought of her, worried about her. What if she got another of those visions without him there to help deflect the pain? And she would get another vision unless his clone had somehow, miraculously, died on his own, which he was certain hadn’t happened. The other Ferals had reported feeling a sudden shift, almost a lightness inside, when their own clones had been destroyed. Tighe felt no lightness, nothing but tension. Frustration. And concern.

For Delaney.

Lyon slapped him on the shoulder. “Come. We’re meeting in the war room.

Tighe followed Lyon into the wood-paneled room at the back of the house. A large oval conference table sat in the center of the room. Along the walls, Hawke had rigged up four large computer screens. All were dark, the chairs empty, as the Ferals paced.

Paenther greeted him, clasping his arm hard and long. “Glad you pulled through.”

“Yeah, thanks. I can’t tell you how much I wish that damn clone had gone after the Therian enclaves instead of getting me mixed up in the human world.” Then again, he’d never have met Delaney. Which would have been a good thing. Definitely a good thing.

“Your eyes,” Paenther murmured.

“The streaks?” Tighe answered Paenther’s unspoken question. “No clue what they mean.”

“Let’s get started.” Lyon took the seat at the head of the table and motioned the rest of them to take their chairs. All did, except Paenther and Tighe. Tighe was too damned tense to sit. He prowled the room like an animal in a cage.

Paenther remained standing by the door, back straight, arms crossed, a fine tension radiating from him that rivaled Tighe’s own, thanks to an inborn rage that had tormented the black-haired warrior for centuries.

After dealing with his own unnatural tension, Tighe’s respect for his friend grew another three notches. How he kept his sanity, Tighe couldn’t guess.

Lyon turned to Paenther. “Report, B.P.”

Paenther scowled. “Nothing good. No sign of Vhyper in any of the places he would have gone, were he still himself. Which isn’t surprising. Tighe’s face is splashed all over the news. A bartender recognized us as friends of his and called the cops on us this afternoon.” He shook his head. “He’s not hanging out in bars, Roar.”

Lyon nodded. “Where do you think he is?”

“With the Mage.” Paenther nodded at Foxx. “We’ve been afraid so from the beginning, but the cub’s gut started confirming it last night. We drove out to the Mage stronghold on the Eastern Shore to have a look around, but it’s gone, Roar. The mansion’s still there, but by the look of the place, the Mage have been gone for months.”

“I thought we had Therians keeping watch on the place,” Hawke said.

“Two Therians were there, hiding in the woods nearby. They swore up and down every room in the mansion was lit when in truth they were all dark. Glamour strong enough to fool Therians for weeks, maybe months, is damn strong magic, Roar.”

“Sensing a theme here, Chief?” Jag drawled.

Lyon threw Jag a sharp look, then turned his gaze to encompass all the Ferals. “I want to know how the Mage got their ancient magic back and how much of it they actually have.” A deep growl rumbled from Lyon’s throat as his gaze returned to Paenther. “Find Vhyper and the blade, B.P. And that Mage stronghold, while you’re at it. I want to know what in the hell is going on!”

Paenther dipped his head, his shoulder-length hair brushing his cheeks like twin black curtains.

Tighe glanced up as Kara entered the room. He expected her to go to Lyon, as she usually did, but though her hand trailed along Lyon’s shoulder as she passed him, she came straight to him, meeting his glance with a gentle smile that warmed the half of his tattered soul he still possessed.

“Hi,” she said softly, taking his hand.

“Hi, yourself.” He tugged lightly on her blond ponytail, finding a smile for her beneath the weight of his worry. As he felt the first warm surge of power flow from her hand into his, he knew what she was about. Her skin began to glow with the iridescence of radiance. “Thanks, little one.”

With another soft smile, she turned to stand beside him where she could watch her mate and the others. Keeping their hands joined, he lifted his arm over her head so that his arm was around her, and tucked her against his side as she acted as the conduit for him to the Earth’s energy and strength.

Lyon barely batted an eye at the move, to Tighe’s relief. Lyon was as jealous as any mated male, but Kara’s closeness strengthened Tighe almost as much as the radiance, and Lyon knew it. Besides, she thought of Tighe as more of a big brother, which suited Tighe just fine. Theirs was a bond he was coming to treasure. He adored her.

But it was another woman’s face that wouldn’t leave his mind. Damn Delaney. He’d admired her warrior’s spirit, so it shouldn’t have surprised him that she’d turn on him the moment she got the chance.

As if she couldn’t even feel that soft connection to him in her head. Or it meant nothing to her.