Rapture Untamed (Feral Warriors #4)(72)

"Tighe..."

"Concentrate, Jag. Feel."

Heads up.Hawke's voice shouted in his head. In all their heads.Daemons!

"There!" Wulfe turned feral as he stared into the trees behind the house.

"Damn," Tighe said on a hard expulsion of air. "All three of them."

Jag turned and stared at the hideous trio with a combination of frustration and bone-deep relief. Frustration that finding Olivia would have to wait. And relief that the Daemons were here and not with her.

The three Daemons appeared almost identical - the same floating, cloaklike black bodies, the same black, snakelike hair. Each with a hideous face filled with fangs, though each appeared to have a unique, if disturbing, melting pattern to his flesh. The trio moved quickly through the air between the trees, close to ten feet off the ground.

And while they glanced at the Ferals, they made no move to attack, continuing along their path, as if just passing through.

Tighe made a sound of disgust. "Where are they going?"

"Do you think they're afraid of us?" Wulfe asked.

No one answered. No one had an answer to give.

"Let's go," Lyon said. "We need to destroy those things."

"If we can catch them," Tighe muttered.

As they took off running again, the spinning in Jag's chest suddenly stopped.

Understanding rushed over him.

Pamela Palmer Rapture Untamed

"I can feel Olivia. I know which way to go."

Lyon looked at him. "We'll split up."

Jag shook his head, his heart in his stomach. "We don't have to. The Daemons are heading right for her."

Chapter Twenty-two

Jag pulled on the power of the jaguar that lived inside him and shifted on an exhilarating rush of energy and light. Around him, the other Ferals did the same. One moment, seven men ran through the forest. The next, five large cats and a huge wolf raced across the ground as a large red-tailed hawk swooped through the trees. All could travel faster as animals than they could run on human feet.

Unfortunately, none could move as fast as the Daemons.

Jag raced through the trees, his sleek cat's body barely brushing undergrowth, barely touching the ground as he dodged and leaped. Terror pounded in his head, in his blood, that he would be too late to save Olivia. Too late.

All these years he'd waited for her without knowing he did, without dreaming a warrior angel would be the one to free him from his self-imposed prison of guilt. To steal his heart. And now he must be the one to free her.

A building in a clearing up ahead,Hawke reported.An old brick building of some kind.

Behind it, I see people tied to posts. An outer circle of five facing inward and three back-to-back in the inner circle facing out.

Olivia?Jag demanded.

I can't be sure, but one of those in the outer circle has hair the color of hers. Two of the inner three have had their noses cut off. The way they're bleeding, they have to be humans.

The lion growled, Lyon's voice replying in Jag's head. In all their heads.The Mage have baited the Daemons. The question is, are they baiting us?

Doesn't matter,Jag growled.We're going in anyway.

It matters. But you're right, Jag. We're going in anyway.

Minutes later, the Ferals broke from the cover of the woods into a scene just as Hawke had described. The building, off to the left and facing away, had probably once housed a small factory or Civil War munitions. Directly in front of Jag, in a yard of weeds and dead grass, stood the five thick outer poles in a wide circle, perhaps ten yards in diameter.

He spotted Olivia at once. She'd been staked, her back to the post closest to the building, her arms tied at her back. Just as Cordelia had been all those years ago.

The memory slammed into him, nearly driving him to his cat's knees. He couldn't breathe.

Goddess, goddess, goddess.

For one horrible moment, the urge to run shot through his muscles, to turn tail and flee that memory in any way he could. But his animal growled inside his head, yanking him back to the present. No longer was he that angry, scared kid watching his mother die. Olivia was the one staked this time, not Cordelia.

Olivia. And she wasn't going to die. He'd move heaven and earth if he had to, but she was not going to die!

He shook his head, dislodging the memory of long ago as he forced himself to focus.

Olivia!She stood erect, her feet planted firmly on the ground, but her head dipped, her chin resting on her chest as if she catnapped.

No response. She had to be enthralled. The realization cramped his gut.

Jag, can you still feel her?Lyon demanded.

She's alive, Roar. They haven't turned her. They wouldn't need to tie her if they'd turned her.

This has the feel of a trap,Lyon said.

Jag swung his jaguar's head, his gaze meeting Lyon's.

I agree. She's enthralled, Roar. But I'm going in anyway.

Hold, Jag. We're all going in,Lyon replied.You'll fight with us. Not only do we need you, but your best chance of saving her is to kill those Daemons. If she starts feeding, tell us and we'll stay in our animals.

It won't be enough. She can drain the animals, too.

Silence.

If she starts feeding, I'll do what I have to, Chief.But the thought of it drove a stake through his heart.

The lion's head dipped once in acknowledgment, his gaze returning to the circle. Jag's followed.