A Love Untamed (3 page)

The breath caught in her lungs, and she sank back against the nearest wall, one hand curved protectively around her stomach, the other palming her forehead. She was still there moments later, her mind reeling, when her queen and friend materialized at her side.

Ariana touched her shoulder. “What happened down there, Mel?” she asked worriedly.

Melisande glared at her. “I'm going to kill him.” At Ariana's raised eyebrow, Melisande rolled her eyes. “I'm
not
going to kill him. But I want to. You have no idea how much I want to.”

Ariana studied her. “He's the one, isn't he? The one you can't intentionally harm. The one suited to be your mate.”

Melisande started to laugh, then choked instead, pushing away from the wall. “
Never.
I want no male. Especially not a shifter.” She'd hated the shifters for so long, both the Feral Warriors who were able to access the power of their animals and the nonshifting Therians. They were all shifters to her. All equally vile.

Well, maybe not vile. Not all of them. As much as she hated to admit it, the current batch of Ferals appeared to be honorable enough. The nine originals, at least. Ariana certainly thought so. And she couldn't deny they were fighting to keep Satanan and his Daemon horde from rising again, which any creature of the world appreciated.

But that didn't alter the fact that her history with shifters was a bad one. She'd spent most of her life hating them. Now, her traitorous body wanted one of them. She dug her fingers into her scalp and met Ariana's sympathetic gaze.

“I don't want to feel this way.”

Ariana's eyes widened. “You want him.”

“No.
Yes.
”
Heaven help her.
For centuries, thanks to a traitorous shifter and his horrid clan, she'd been unable to bear a man's touch. The thought of it still filled her with dread. But her body had somehow awakened again despite that. And it
wanted.

She shook her head, eyeing her friend helplessly. “When I blasted Fox . . . the pleasure he felt . . .
I felt it, too.
” Not like he had, not . . .
orgasmic.
But even now, tendrils of heat swam through her blood, dampening her in secret places.

“I don't want this!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, gripping her head because, even as her body ached, her mind reeled with horror at the thought of lying with a man again. Memories she'd locked down for so long were beginning to stir, memories of soul-destroying betrayal, and of soul-stealing pain.

“Why now?” she cried. “Why a shifter? Why
him
?”

“Mel . . . I'm sorry.”

None of this would have happened if Ariana hadn't found Kougar again, if she hadn't married him, forcing the Ilinas and the Feral Warriors into this unholy alliance, and the thought hung thickly in the air between them, unspoken.

“Is there anything I can do?” Ariana asked quietly.

Melisande met her friend's gaze. “Leave Kougar and forbid us from ever going near the Ferals again.”

A glint of dark humor gleamed in Ariana's eyes. “Other than that.” Ariana stepped closer, her eyes soft and serious. “Mel, if you need to step down from your post for a while, I completely understand.”

“No.” The word shot from Melisande's mouth before her brain fully processed the ramifications of Ariana's offer.

“Think about it,” Ariana said kindly, then misted away, leaving Melisande standing among the wreckage of the shattered vase and the remnants of her own hard-won equilibrium.

With a groan, she leaned back against the nearest wall, closing her eyes, forcing herself to consider her options. Because stepping down from her post as Ariana's second-in-command would mean no longer having to go anywhere near Feral House. Or the far-too-disturbing Fox.

But there was no real choice, she knew that. She was by far the strongest of Ariana's warriors, by far the best able to protect her queen and her race. Ironically, the only one she trusted as much was Kougar. He would give up his life for his mate and had nearly done so not long ago.

But with the Mage determined to free the Daemons back into the world, none of them could be too careful. Melisande sighed. She had no choice, not really. Dodging Feral House, and Fox, meant dodging her responsibilities, and that was something she would never do.

Perhaps if she ignored the too-handsome shifter, he'd go away. She snorted. After she'd nearly driven him to sexual release with a flick of her hand? Not likely. He knew she hadn't meant for that to happen. Worse, he knew she'd been affected as well. The knowledge had gleamed plain as day in the predatory look in his eyes.

No, he wasn't likely to lose interest anytime soon. The male was bent on seduction. And her defenses were badly shaken.

One day ago

K
ara sat on the floor of Skye and Paenther's bedroom, playing with Skye's pets, smiling at the antics of the black miniature schnauzer, Lady, and the tabby kitten, Tramp, as they simultaneously attacked a vicious chew toy. She was glad for the distraction.

Skye stood at the window, worry drifting off her in waves, a worry Kara shared, though not to the same razor-sharp degree. Skye's mate, Paenther, was in Poland, having led the team sent to battle the evil Ferals and to stop the ritual they'd begun that appeared designed to empower the High Daemon Satanan. Lyon remained at Feral House with a handful of men and all the Ferals' mates. Feral House had to be protected. But those left behind paced. And worried.

Skye gasped. “Kara . . .”

“What's the matter?” Dear God, if Skye had felt her mating bond break . . .

“Come here. Quick.”

Kara jumped up and ran to join Skye at the window. Peering out, she saw movement beyond the trees. Vehicles. Men leaping out in dark clothing.

“Police,” Kara gasped. “A SWAT team by the looks of it. Oh, this can't be good.” She raced for the door, flung it open, and ran. “Lyon!”

Her mate was halfway up the first flight of stairs before she reached the top step. He was so beautiful, her Lyon, so powerful and regal and sweet. “Cops. A SWAT team. I think they're coming here.”

“Foyer, now!” he shouted. The Ferals all possessed far stronger hearing than humans, or even the nonshifting Therians. But if his nearby warriors didn't respond right away, he could contact them in an instant by shifting into his lion and calling to them telepathically.

Lyon held out his hand for her as she raced down the stairs to join him. But when she reached him, he pulled her close, kissed her hair, then said, “Stay here.” As he strode into the living room to peer out the front window, Skye joined her.

Not ten seconds later, Tighe, Jag, and Jag's mate, Olivia, came running. Lynks appeared at the top of the stairs and started down at a more sedate pace. One of the two new Ferals who'd been cleared of the dark magic, Lynks was now a full-fledged member of the Feral team even if Lyon had admitted to her in private that the man was too soft to have ever been the one meant to be marked.

“We have trouble,” Lyon told them, striding from the living room. “There's a human SWAT team surrounding the house.”

In an instant, in a spray of colored lights, Tighe shifted into a fifteen-foot Bengal tiger, undoubtedly to speak to his pregnant mate, Delaney, who was napping upstairs. Ex-FBI, she was believed dead by her human colleagues. It wouldn't do for them to find her alive and well . . . and immortal. Nor could they find Xavier, their cook's assistant for whom the humans had been searching for weeks, or their cook, Pink, who could never pass for human.

Lyon's thoughts were clearly running parallel to Kara's own. His gaze caressed her with that uberprotectiveness that both warmed her and sometimes drove her nuts. “Get the wives, Pink, and Xavier to the deep basement, my heart.” His gaze swung to Olivia. “You'll accompany me outside, pretend to be my wife. If the situation gets out of hand, weaken them.”

Olivia was not only a warrior who'd fought with the Therian Guard for centuries, but she possessed the rare ability of being able to suck the life force from others. And she had the control to drain just enough of an opponent's energy to weaken and not kill.

“I'll attempt to cloud the mind of the leader.” Lyon's gaze swung to his three warriors even as he began plucking knives from his boots and shoving them in the drawer of the hall table. If they frisked him, he clearly didn't want them finding his weapons. “If they get inside, knock them out and cloud their minds. No deaths.”

The last thing they needed was to become a target for the humans. Kara might not be a warrior, but she could certainly understand the ramifications of the humans' believing that the Ferals posed a danger. They'd have to leave Feral House, perhaps battle their way out, likely revealing their immortality. A disaster in every possible way.

Delaney came running down the stairs, a gun strapped to her still slender waist. Less than two months pregnant, she had yet to start showing.

“I'll get Xavier and Pink,” Delaney said.

Skye hurried after her, then glanced back at Kara.

Kara nodded. “I'll join you in a minute.” Her heart was pounding at the thought of Lyon's walking outside where all those humans would be training guns on him. While the immortals didn't age and healed most wounds almost instantly, none of them were truly immortal. They could die. And the thought of losing Lyon terrified her.

She glanced at Jag, saw the hard granite of his jaw, and knew he was just as worried about Olivia. But he was a warrior first, and what was more, so was Olivia, and he knew it. Olivia was the best woman for this job, and Jag would keep his mouth shut even if it killed him. By the clench of his fists, Kara suspected it just might.

“Police! Come out with your hands up!”

Lyon eyed Olivia and took a deep breath. “Are you ready, wife?” he said, reminding her of her role.

The redhead gave him a decisive nod. “Ready, husband.”

“Lynks, cover the back of the house,” Tighe called. “Everyone else, out of the foyer.” If the cops saw several more large males, it would make it impossible for Lyon to convince them Feral House was merely an innocuous, if huge, family home.

Kara slipped into the hallway that led to both the back of the house and the basement, Lynks following. As he brushed past her, she paused. She knew she should go downstairs. That's what Lyon wanted her to do. But she couldn't make her feet move. Not when Lyon could die out there. Through the now-open front door, she heard him.

“What's the problem, Officer?” Lyon asked.

“Get on the ground. Facedown!”

“There's no need for that,” Lyon replied calmly.

Kara wished she could see what was happening. Was he clouding their minds, pushing suggestions into them? He was trying, she knew that much.

“We have a report of gunshots and screaming coming from this house,” another cop said.

Kara clenched her teeth against the lie. The house was fully warded against sound. Not even standing on the front doorstep would anyone hear the roar of the animals inside. The “report” was bogus and had probably come from the Mage just to cause them trouble.

“Kara.”

Lynks startled her, squeezing her shoulder. “They're going to overrun this place. You've got to hide.”

She looked at the new shifter, meeting his nervous gaze. She agreed with Lyon's assessment, that Lynks was not the one meant to be marked. He had the mien of a teacher or an accountant, not a warrior. If the humans got inside, it would be up to Jag and Tighe to contain them. She seriously doubted Lynks would be of much help.

“Okay.” Pressing her fist against her tense stomach, she turned and strode to the basement door, slipping inside, surprised when Lynks followed her down instead of closing it behind her.

“I'm just going to check on the others,” he said.

Which would leave the back door unprotected. Coward or not, was the man stupid? “Lynks . . .”

But as she turned to urge him to cover his post, he gripped her shoulder, too tight. A hard look leaped into his eyes, alarming her.

“I'm sorry, Kara.”

Before she could open her mouth to call for help, he jammed his thumb beneath her ear.

Her world went dark.

L
yon kept his arms in the air, his gaze locked with the human's in front of him. “There's nothing wrong here, Officer. We had the television on, and the windows open.”

“I told you it was too loud,” Olivia added tartly. She turned to the officer. “He insists on being able to hear the TV anywhere in the house.”

Lyon's gaze moved to another of the officers, then another still, catching their gazes, trying to calm them, to steal their wariness. If he could touch them, it would be far easier. But that wasn't a possibility at the moment. He had to get them out of here without incident. Because there were too damn many cop cars. In the distance, gathering along the street, he could see neighbors watching the goings-on with avid eyes. If Feral House were overrun, the cops disappearing inside, he feared there would be no end to this. There were only so many defensive positions the Ferals could take before they were forced to reveal themselves. And that was the one thing they could never do. Once the humans realized shape-shifters and magic-wielders lived among them, the immortals would be forever on the run, hunted to extinction.

“This is all a misunderstanding,” Lyon said quietly to the man in front of him, his gaze once more locked on his. “There's nothing the matter here.”

“What's he saying?” one of the others asked a companion on the other side of the driveway. They might be speaking far too quietly for a human to overhear at this distance, but not a Feral. “Why the hell doesn't Jim have him on the ground?”

“Beats me. He's one big motherfucker, isn't he?” The cop yawned. “Damn I'm tired. And I finally got a good night's sleep last night.”