Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(23)

Paenther jerked her off her feet and into the solid rock of his chest, his free hand closing around her throat. "Your choices end here, witch."

As her mind went white with terror, his thumb pressed into the crevice beneath her ear.

Then all went black.

Chapter Seven

Cold rain drizzled over Paenther's head, running in rivulets down his bare chest and beating on the shackles he still wore as he ran through the dark, wet fields. He'd run several miles already but wasn't stopping until he had gone at least a few more. Around his shoulders, he'd draped the unconscious witch.

She'd told him the shackles could be used to call him back, and though he had reason to doubt everything she said, he was taking no chances.

Running from that place, and his chance to save Vhyper, was possibly the hardest thing he'd ever done. But he'd be no use to Vhyper or anyone else if Birik caught him and chained him again.

He wondered how long he'd been out of it between the blood ritual and the Daemon demonstration. He could have sworn it was night during the first, but as he'd escaped the cave, the sky had been purple with dusk. Had he lost another entire day? And how many more days on top of that since the witch dragged him down to her lair?

He followed the now-dark road but took care to remain out of sight of it. Half-dressed, wearing shackles, and carrying an unconscious young woman, he'd draw far more attention than he wanted from the humans and would be easy prey for the Mage if they came after him. His first goal was to find a phone and call Lyon.

And find a knife. He had yet to attract draden, but it was only a matter of time. There were no swarms this far from the Radiant, thank the goddess, but the occasional rogue draden could be found anywhere. Sooner or later, if there were any in the area, they'd find him.

As he approached a dark farmhouse, he decided a little breaking and entering was his only alternative.

He laid Skye within a cluster of trees on the hillside and pressed his thumb into her slender neck to make sure she stayed fully unconscious. He stared down at her damp, delicate face, emotions warring inside him. He hated her for reeling him in, for making him believe she was in need of his sympathy and protection when she was really just a conniving bitch. But even as he knew what she was, her fragile beauty tugged at him.

Paenther scowled and rose, turning away from the siren who enchanted him even in her sleep. What he'd told her was true. If it was the last thing he did, he'd get his revenge.

He approached the house with catlike stealth, frustrated he couldn't actually shift into his cat. No scent of dog reached his nose, which boded well for keeping his arrival a secret. When he found the back door unlocked, he slipped inside, palmed a kitchen knife from the wood block on the counter, and grabbed the phone.

He punched in Lyon's number, praying his chief would answer the call.

"Hello?"

"It's Paenther." He kept his voice low on the off chance there was actually someone in the house.

"Thank the goddess. Where are you?"

"Good question." Looking around, he found a magazine lying on the counter and read off the address.

"Tighe and Jag have been in the mountains looking for you for the past two days."

"Tighe's clone?"

"Is dead. Tighe's fine."

Paenther closed his eyes, sending a prayer of thanks skyward. "That's the best bit of news I've gotten in days. What about Foxx?"

"He's here. What's the situation? Do you need additional backup?"

"No. The attack is going to have to wait. I'm wearing Mage shackles and can't go near the place without risk of enthrallment."

"Then I'll send Tighe and Jag to pick you up."

"Roar, I'm not alone. I've got the witch who captured me. We have some unfinished business," he added darkly.

Lyon was silent for several moments. "The last thing we need is another witch in this house."

"She needs to be interrogated."

Silence, then a low growl. "Bring her in, but I want her hands tied at all times. And you'll have to be cleared of any possible enchantment when you get in. All of you. You want me to call Evangeline?"

"Yes." Evangeline had been his sexual partner of choice for decades. Their relationship had never extended beyond the sex, though that was his fault. He had no softness to give a woman anymore, thanks to Ancreta.

"I'll call the Shaman. I believe he knows a binding spell to keep your witch from practicing her magic. And he may know of a way to get you out of those shackles. Hold on, Kara's got Tighe on her cell phone." He repeated the address Paenther had given him. "They're about an hour north of there, B.P. He'll find you. We'll regroup here."

"Agreed."

Paenther replaced the phone in its cradle, left the house as quietly as he'd arrived, and went to retrieve Skye. As he climbed the hill to the trees where he'd left her, he heard the low growl of a dog. His heart lurched. He'd left Skye unconscious, unprotected.

But the dog, a medium-sized mutt, was curled up beside her. As if protecting her.

"Go!" he shouted softly to the dog. The animal jumped up and barked at him. Paenther went feral, baring his teeth. The dog turned tail and ran.

Even unconscious she drew the animals. Looking down at her, at the dress plastered against her too-slender body, he couldn't deny he struggled against the same need to protect her. When he thought the mutt had hurt her, he'd been furious.