Passion Untamed (Feral Warriors #3)(24)

Paenther scowled. Even unconscious she wove her spell around him. Protect her, hell. All he wanted to do was hurt her.

Except that wasn't true.

Maybe once he was free of the shackles, he'd be able to see her clearly at last. He'd be able to see the cunning, calculating bitch who'd played on his sympathies and pretended to be beaten and vulnerable so he'd f**k her and help her raise the power to free those abominations.

He settled onto the ground beside her, leaning back against one thick oak trunk, where he had sight of the road and could watch for Tighe's white Land Rover.

Reaching for her instinctively, he stopped and pulled his hand back, fighting the urge to pull her onto his lap and hold her against the rain. Even knowing what she was, he felt this need to touch her, to hold her.

Which made him hate her even more.

He would get his retribution. Goddess help him, he would. She'd rue the day she'd turned those sad, blue eyes on him and pulled him under her spell.

"Panther-man," Jag drawled, thrusting out his arm and slapping his forearm to Paenther's as each man grasped the other's wrist in the traditional greeting. "Glad to see you made it out of there, Geronimo."

Paenther nodded, then turned to Tighe. As one, they embraced. Little emotion ever escaped past the fury that consumed his life, but he felt a relief to see his old friend that went all the way to his soul.

"You finally got that clone."

"Hell, yeah." Tighe pulled back. Sharp, warm emotion glittered in his eyes. "We've been looking for you for days."

He didn't have to say the words for Paenther to know they'd feared he was dead.

"How long have I been gone? I lost track of time in that place."

"About six days." He nodded at Skye, still lying asleep in the grass. "Is that the witch?"

"That's her."

Tighe scowled. "Do we really want to bring another one of those things in the house?"

"I'm not leaving her behind. But we need to tie her hands. Got any rope?"

Tighe flicked his hand at Jag. "Give me your belt."

Jag grunted but unfastened the belt on his camouflage pants and tossed it over. Paenther knelt in the wet grass beside Skye and tied her arms behind her back. Mage generally couldn't enchant a Feral or Therian without the direct touch of their hand. This one had claimed she couldn't do even that, but he didn't trust her.

As he slung her over his shoulder, an attractive brunette slid out of Tighe's SUV and joined them. When Tighe slid his arm around her shoulder, Paenther lifted a brow. He'd heard Tighe had taken a human as his mate, but he'd thought it was only to keep her from betraying him while he used her to capture his clone.

"This is Delaney, B.P."

The woman extended her hand to him, and he shook it, impressed by her fearless, straightforward attitude. He wasn't exactly the most docile-looking of males. None of the Ferals were.

Paenther nodded to her. "It's dangerous out here for a human."

The woman smiled, her sharp gaze meeting his own. "Turns out I'm no longer human. No longer mortal, anyway."

Paenther's surprised gaze swiveled to Tighe.

Tighe grinned. "It's true. But it's a long story. Let's get - "

"Draden," Jag warned. "A tiny little flock of them."

Sure enough, half a dozen of the fiends were descending from the sky. Paenther grabbed the knife he'd taken from the farmhouse and plucked out the hearts of the ones that came near him as his friends dispatched the others.

"Let's get out of here before more find us," Tighe said, closing his switchblade. Paenther carried the unconscious witch to the SUV and laid her in the cargo area in back, then climbed in beside Jag while Delaney took the front seat beside Tighe. If Skye woke, he'd be ready to grab her before she could touch anyone.

The last thing he needed was her enchanting more Ferals. Not when he suspected he was still under her spell.

Even before she was fully awake, Skye's heart began to pound like a hammer on an anvil. She was lying on her side, yet moving, the low hum of an engine tight against her ear. A car.

This couldn't be happening. Birik would never let her go. Yet clearly, somehow, she'd escaped the cavern.

In a rush of memory, it all came back. She'd tried to free Paenther, and he'd grabbed her, knocking her out.

He'd captured her.

As his last words rang in her ears, her stomach cramped with fear. Do you really think I'd leave you behind, witch? When all I can think of is taking my revenge on you?

Skye began to tremble, perspiration dampening her back. Slowly, carefully, she opened her eyes to find herself swallowed by a darkness punctuated by flashes of light from the windows above.

"How's Foxx?"

Paenther's voice rumbled close by, the sound strangely comforting even as it filled her with dread. He was furious with her, convinced everything she'd told him was a lie. Vhyper had told her as much.

If she could ever convince him she wasn't his enemy, that she hated Birik more than he did, she felt in her heart he'd help her again, just as he had that night Birik attacked her.

But if not...

Her mouth turned to dust. If not, she was going to suffer.

"Foxx is fine," a male voice replied from the front of the car. "He avoided capture though they managed to slam him with some kind of confusion spell. He couldn't remember where he'd lost you."