Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)(33)

"The power orbs are full?"

"They appear to be, yes." An expression of satisfaction settled across her face. "Raw Daemon energy. The most powerful force on Earth."

"Do you think it'll be enough?" The male sorcerer's subservient bearing told Olivia he was the underling of the pair.

"There's no way to know. The last one to attempt this was Satanan himself. The project will be complete when it's complete."

As the male pulled down the orbs, the two guards came around the corner.

Mystery motioned to the corpses hanging from the posts. "Dispose of these." As one of the guards bowed, she continued. "Is there time before dawn for one more feeding?"

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"No, Sorceress. Dawn will be upon us within a pair of hours. The Daemon will not be back this night."

"Very well." She turned and climbed the stairs back into the house.

Olivia turned to Jag at the same moment he turned to her. They're worried gazes collided. "What do you think the project is?" she asked in a whisper.

"Hell if I know. But if the last one to attempt it was Satanan, we can be sure of one thing. If they succeed, we're in deep trouble."

Chapter Ten

They walked back to the Hummer in silence, Jag in his jaguar-house-cat form since dawn had broken. The eastern sky glowed the color of fresh blood.

Olivia opened the back door of the Hummer, and the cat jumped in. She closed the door behind him as a maintenance truck rumbled by on the road below, then climbed into the front passenger seat. Behind her, magic erupted on a surge of sparkling lights.

She felt it tingle along the surface of her skin, a pleasant sensation, and glanced back to find Jag a man once more, shoving one powerful leg after another into his pants. He raised his hips to pull the pants over his bu**ocks, his manparts lifting as if in offering.

For once, it seemed to be her mind, not his, caught in an endless sexual loop. Leaving his pants unzipped, he pulled the T-shirt over his head, pulling it down like a second skin to mold his muscular torso.

Beneath one tight sleeve, his armband curled, the jaguar's eyes seeming to watch her.

Jag climbed out of the vehicle and opened the driver's door, zipping his pants before reentering.

As he started the Hummer, Olivia tipped her head back and closed her eyes, all that had happened tonight crashing over her in a massive wave that threatened to sweep her feet out from under her. Jag knew she was draden-kissed. At first, she'd been utterly certain he'd give her away, but she just didn't know anymore. The more she thought she understood him, the more of an enigma he became.

When the draden attacked, he could so easily have saved himself simply by shifting, but instead he'd nearly sacrificed his life trying to save her. Beneath the crappy attitude stood a man of rare honor and courage. A good man, though she felt certain he didn't see himself as such.

But would that honor drive him to keep her secret? Or to give her away? She couldn't know, and she feared the answer.

A soft tug on her hair had her turning her head to find Jag watching her.

"You okay?" For once, no devilment lit his eyes, only genuine concern. "Is that venom out of your system?"

As she looked into those warm, dark eyes, something happened. The solid, emotional ground beneath her feet gave way, and she felt herself falling. Tumbling.

Olivia wrenched her gaze away, staring at nothing as her heart pounded in her chest.

Goddess. What was the matter with her?

Lifting an unsteady hand, she pushed the hair back from her face and took a deep, calming breath before answering him. "The venom is mostly gone. My arm still feels a little weird, a little sore, but otherwise, I'm fine."

He reached for her, his hand cupping her upper arm where the tear in her jacket exposed the bare flesh newly healed from the Daemon attack. She tensed, uncertain what he meant to do with that palm, but felt only his thumb stroking the aching echoes of claw wounds, easing the lingering pain.

"Better or worse?" he asked quietly.

She hazarded a glance at him, worried she'd tumble all over again, but he'd turned to the front. "Better. Thank you."

As he put the vehicle into gear and pulled out onto the road, she studied the strong lines of his profile. Without a doubt he was a fine-looking male.

"Where are we going?"

"The motel."

His warm fingers continued to caress her arm, and she let her eyes drift close, but her mind refused to be still. What would she do if Jag did report her as being draden-kissed? She'd have no choice but to run. Or try to run. Getting away from Jag would be no easy feat.

Dammit, she was so tired. Decade after decade, century after century, she'd held her secret tight, terrified someone would discover it. Terrified her life would be over.

And if she ran, it would be. Maybe not literally. Maybe if she took off, she wouldn't be tracked and killed. But her life would be over all the same. Her home in the Guard barracks lost to her. Her friends, her team, her purpose...all gone.

If she stayed and played Jag's game? Maybe she'd end up dead. But it wouldn't be at Jag's hands. If he were going to kill her, he'd have already done it. Unless, of course, she tried to hurt him or his.

If she could just get him to keep her secret a little longer. Long enough for her to help him catch that Daemon. Long enough for them to figure out what the Mage were up to and stop them.