Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)(20)

Hawke made a sound of frustration. "So traps are out."

It wasn't a question, and Kougar didn't answer. Because he wasn't giving up on the traps just yet. They were by far their best chance of catching the Daemons without Feral casualties. He just had to get the right ingredients.

Come nightfall, he was going hunting.

For Ilina.

Jag climbed out of the Hummer and stripped out of his clothes, tossing them in the back. It was an hour after full dark. The draden should be out anytime now, and with any luck, so would the Daemon.

Olivia sat in the front, arms crossed over her chest. She'd really expected him to take her with him? He knew what it was like to hunt draden as a mere Therian. He'd done it hundreds of times. And it was damned dangerous. And that was in places where the draden traveled in packs of no more than a dozen. Goddess only knew what they'd find out here.

"If I'd sent Niall with you, would you have allowed him to hunt?"

"Can he shift?"

"That wasn't my question."

"It's the only one I'm asking. If you can shift, you can come."

"You're obnoxious."

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"Yeah, don't I know it. So sue me for trying to keep you alive. Stay put until I call for you, Red. That's an order." He slammed the door shut against her further arguments.

He had to hand it to her - she had courage to spare. But she wasn't dying out here tonight, that was all there was to it.

He pulled on the power within him, the power of the jaguar. In a rush of pure pleasure, he shifted into his animal form and took off at a run. He'd remain in his full-sized jaguar tonight. Not only would he cover more ground that way, but in the dark, no one would be able to get a good look at him.

Ferals' eyesight in the dark was almost as good as in daylight. Not so, humans.

He roamed the woods and streets of Harpers Ferry, finding nothing but old scent. If this kept up, it was going to be a damned long night. He'd been at it an hour or two when his thoughts turned back to Olivia.

Thinking about me,Sugar?

He expected some sharp retort concerning voodoo dolls and pins in his groin. Instead, he got no reply, just a dark sense of fear. His pulse began to thrum with a mix of dread and concern.

You see him,don't you ,Red? You see the Daemon.

Yes.

Shit. Stay in the Hummer. I'll be right there.

Goddess, what if the thing was strong enough to tear open the doors? He was already running full bore back the way he'd come when she answered.

I'm not in the Hummer,Jag. I'm about a mile upriver on the Shenandoah side.

He turned midstride and headed west, his brain scrambling to keep up. She wasn't in the damned Hummer.

Your listening skills suck,Red ,you know that? Has the Daemon seen you?

He's hovering about six yards away,staring at me. Jag heard the tremor she tried to hide, a tremor of the mind and spirit. She was f**king terrified. And she wasn't the only one.

Dammit. Dammit! He ran as fast as his four legs would travel, but he was all too afraid he wasn't going to make it in time. Something raw and painful ripped through his chest.

Stay calm,Red. I'm not far from there. I'm on my way.

Hurry,Jag.

She wasn't going to die. Dammit, Olivia was not going to die.

But he knew what Daemons could do.

And he feared he was going to be too late.

Cold sweat ran down Olivia's temples as she covered her nose against the awful stench and stared at the gruesome sight, at the monster a dozen times more terrifying than anything her imagination had been able to dredge up. A Daemon. An honest-to-God Daemon.

Her breath trembled in her lungs, her damp hands gripping her knives until her fingers ached as her gaze raked the creature's hideous and contorted face. Its features were as indistinct as a draden's, as if the face had been made from wax left too long in the sun. Sharp, uneven fangs hung from a sloping mouth while small, wicked daggers protruded from his fingertips in the form of claws. Thick ropes of black hair hung from his head, each shimmering with frightening iridescence as it embraced the long, black cloak that encased his hovering body.

After Jag left her in the Hummer, she'd given him a small head start, then tried to follow on foot, but she'd already lost him. She might be fast, but the jaguar was faster.

So she'd opened her senses, the ones tuned to draden, to see if she might be able to pick up an energy trail. Sure enough, as she'd neared the Shenandoah, she'd felt a prickle of current run over her skin. She'd followed it as it grew hotter and more urgent, right to the Daemon.

As he floated closer, she spread her feet fighting distance apart, gripping her knives as her heartbeat thudded in her ears. Opening herself, she pulled at that swirl of Daemon energy, pulling it into her. Feeding. If Jag were close enough to feel something, she'd blame it on the Daemon.

But she nearly vomited. The energy wasn't true life force, but something else.

Something rancid. Foul.

The Daemon hissed, an ugly, inhuman sound of anger as if he'd felt her. He moved closer, his wicked claws extended, a huge creature, easily as big as Jag. Sweat rolled between her shoulder blades as she braced herself for the fight of her life.

As the Daemon flew at her, she struck, slicing one knife across his outstretched hand, spinning and stabbing her second knife into his shoulder before leaping away again.