Sebastian/Aristide (Bayou Heat) (2 page)

Sebastian felt a stab of concern as the men and women swiftly exited by a side door, leaving him alone with the older man.

Two good things had come out of Shakpi’s escape. The first was that the rot that had been destroying the Wildlands had suddenly stopped spreading. And the second was the fact that Raphael’s mate, Ashe, was no longer fighting for her life, or the life of their unborn cub.

Or at least, she hadn’t been the last time he’d checked in with his leader.

Now his heart slammed against his ribs as he studied his companion’s stark expression.

“Ashe?” he rasped, barely daring to breathe until Raphael flashed a reassuring smile.

“Is well.”

“Thank god,” Sebastian breathed. Ashe was not only Raphael’s mate, but she was currently carrying the first Pantera child in over fifty years.

A priceless treasure they would all protect with their lives.

“No, thank Isi,” Raphael muttered.

Sebastian arched a brow. Isi was Ashe’s long-lost sister, and since her arrival the infection or poison or whatever it was that had been slowly killing the fragile young woman had nearly disappeared.

“You believe she’s responsible for your mate’s recovery?”

Raphael folded his arms over his chest. “No doubt in my mind.”

“So why does she remain in isolation?”

“Because the elders refuse to admit they could be wrong.” Disgust laced his words. “They are convinced that she is destined to destroy the Wildlands. And they have enough influence to sway a large number of our people.”

“The rumor is that Isi’s blood did scorch the earth,” Sebastian said, repeating the gossip that was swirling among the Pantera.

“Isi isn’t the danger,” Raphael snapped, clearly not there to discuss the mystery of his sister-in-law. “We have to be united if we are to defeat Shakpi.”

Sebastian shivered. No one asked the question of how exactly they were going to achieve that little miracle.

Not when no one had the answer.

“True.” Sebastian had been a witness to the moment Chayton, the human Shaman, had tried to close his connection to the trapped goddess. In fact, Sebastian had more than one scar from the fierce battle when they’d realized that Chayton had been possessed by Shakpi. “Have you located the Shaman?”

“No, but Parish has his Hunters on the trail.”

Sebastian nodded, a familiar ball of frustration lodged in the pit of his stomach. “I’d give my left nut to know how the bastard escaped.”

“No shit.” Raphael rammed his fingers through his hair, a low growl rumbling in his chest. “I’m still trying to sort through that little clusterfuck.”

Sebastian grimaced, not envying his friend’s job. There were at least ten different stories of who was supposed to be where when it was discovered their prisoner had escaped.

“If this isn’t about Ashe or Chayton, then what has you in such a twit?”

Raphael narrowed his golden gaze. “Twit?”

“Twit. Snit.” Sebastian shrugged. “A mood.”

“I’m a Pantera.” Raphael peeled back his lips to reveal his elongated fangs. “I don’t have moods.”

Sebastian snorted. “And I’m about to sprout wings and flap around the room.”

Raphael pulled out his phone, searching for a webpage before shoving it into Sebastian’s hand.

“Read.”

Sebastian glanced down, scanning the front page of a prominent New Orleans newspaper. His brows snapped together at the lurid headline:

LOCAL WOMAN MAULED, AUTHORITIES ON HIGH ALERT

“Shit.” Sebastian gave an annoyed shake of his head. “Another wild animal attack?”

“It gets worse. Keep reading.”

With a growing sense of dread, Sebastian skimmed through the short article.

“Pantera,” he snarled, rereading the last paragraph to make sure he hadn’t misread the shocking claim. Nope. There it was: the female was convinced that she was attacked by a Pantera. “How? Only top human officials are aware the Pantera truly exist. Which is bad enough.” He made a sound of disgust. “I’ve spent all morning on the phone with the governor of Arkansas.”

Raphael grimaced. “It could be that the humans are remembering the stories of their grandparents. When they’re frightened, they often turn to myth and legend.”

Sebastian didn’t need to be a Diplomat to know that Raphael didn’t believe this was a random accusation made out of fear.

“Or?” he prompted.

“Or traitors have been whispering our name among the masses.”

“Damn.” Sebastian understood better than anyone this new, unexpected danger. It was bad enough to be outed just when they were threatened with extinction. But to be revealed and then blamed for the violent attacks was a guaranteed way to make enemies of the humans. “What do you want from me?”

Raphael reached for his phone, stabbing a finger at the screen. “I want this stopped.”

Sebastian blinked in surprise, anticipation heating his blood. Damn. It’d been far too long since he’d been on the hunt.

“Not that I’m not ready and willing to kill the bastards, but you don’t usually give me the opportunity to release my inner cat.”

“And you’re going to have to keep it leashed.” Raphael squashed his brief hope for a taste of blood. “At least for now. The FBI are demanding answers.”

Sebastian grudgingly bridled his eager cat, forcing himself to return to his role as Diplomat. As much as his animal side longed for a good fight, he preferred to avoid violence whenever possible. Besides, they had Hunters who were trained to kick ass.

“I bet they are,” he said dryly, already considering his various contacts in New Orleans. “I have someone in the mayor’s office who can smooth things over.”

Raphael shook his head. “Not this time.”

Sebastian stiffened. He didn’t have to be a psychic to know he wasn’t going to like what Raphael had to say.

“What do you mean?”

“The human officials have demanded that we work together to discover who’s instigating the trouble.”

Nope. He didn’t like it.

Not even a little.

“They can demand whatever they want,” he growled.

Raphael held up a warning hand. “We need to cooperate.”

“Since when?”

“Since our presence has gone from being fiction to fact.”

Sebastian clenched his teeth in frustration. He understood that it made sense to work with the human authorities. Until they knew who was behind this, the Pantera had to foster all the goodwill possible.

But that didn’t make it any less annoying.

“It would be easier to track down the villains responsible for the attacks without the interference of the FBI.”

Raphael’s eyes glowed with the power of his cat, revealing he wasn’t any happier than Sebastian.

“I agree, but the public are swiftly becoming convinced that we’re a threat to their safety and we both know what happens when fear rules among humans.”

“Mob mentality,” Sebastian muttered.

“Exactly.”

Sebastian paced toward the large window that overlooked the communal meadow where the Pantera often gathered for meals. Surrounded by trees draped with Spanish moss and bathed in the early autumn sunlight, the Wildlands was a place of peace.

Home.

Instinctively his gaze moved toward the clinic that was barely visible through the trees. His parents were both Healers. Gentle souls who were so deeply committed to their vocation they wouldn’t harm another creature, even if they were being attacked.

It was his duty to protect them.

Whether he wanted to work with the humans or not.

“Shit.” He turned back to meet Raphael’s bleak expression. “Is there more?”

The older man reached into his back pocket to pull out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Sebastian.

“This is your contact.”

Sebastian read the name scribbled on the paper. “Reny Smith?” He scowled in confusion. “Never heard of her. They’re sticking me with some damned rookie?”

“She’s coming in from New York.”

The knowledge didn’t appease his irritation. There were a handful of agents who had high enough clearance to be aware of the Pantera. It didn’t make sense to bring in a stranger.

“Why?”

“She’s supposedly an expert in interrogations.”

Sebastian made a sound of disgust. He knew the seedy underbelly of human politics.

“As if I need a human to help me with interrogations.”

“Be nice.”

“Is that an order?”

Raphael allowed his cat to prowl close to the surface, the air heating with his power. “Yes.”

“Shit.”

***

Reny Smith ignored the glances of the local agents who strolled past the small conference room that she’d claimed as her office.

She’d known she would be the subject of curiosity and even resentment when she’d asked for an opportunity to work on this case.

She had all the ingredients to piss off the local boys club.

She was an outsider. She was a woman. And she was barely out of Quantico.

Still, she’d been oddly convinced that she could help to sort through the mangled stories and hysterical accusations before the situation escalated into public panic. Even after her boss had granted her the top secret clearance and grudgingly confessed that the ancient stories were true. That there were real life puma shifters who lived in the bayous, and that she would have to work with one of them.

Well, she would work with him if he ever bothered to make an appearance.

Clicking her tongue with impatience, Reny rose to her feet, smoothing her hands down the black jacket that matched her slacks, and paced toward the window overlooking the majestic Lake Pontchartrain.

It was a mesmerizing sight with the sunset painting the water in vivid shades of pink and lilac. Of course, everything about New Orleans was mesmerizing.

No doubt it was because it was a city of such intense contradictions.

The decadent mixture of old world charm and modern high-rises. The sound of sweet jazz that filled the air, lacing its way among the dark, grinding poverty that lurked just out of sight. The aroma of chicory coffee overlaid with the earthy scent of the bayous.

It all combined to create a feast for the senses.

Reny told herself that was the cause for the restlessness that had plagued her since her plane had landed two days ago.

It didn’t entirely make sense. But it was the best explanation she had for the weird feeling that something inside her was struggling to get out.

Besides, over the past years she’d become adept at telling herself small lies.

Her superior speed was just a matter of training. She was stronger than she should be because of genetics. Her unnerving ability to tell when people were lying to her was a god-given talent.

And that feeling that she was somehow more aware of the world around her? Well, she’d built a shield in her mind that allowed her to lock out her acute awareness so she could pretend to be just like everyone else.

What else could she do?

Ever since she’d awakened in a New York hospital eight years ago with complete amnesia, she’d felt like a freak. If she actually accepted she was different on a fundamental level, then…

Then she wouldn’t just feel like a freak, she’d become one.

She abruptly shivered, rubbing her arms as electric tingles raced over her skin.

There was something approaching. No, not something…someone.

Feeling a ridiculous sense of premonition, Reny slowly turned, her breath wrenched from her lungs.

Holy…shit.

The man filling the doorway was drop-dead, heart-stopping, get-him-naked-now gorgeous.

Her gaze did a lingering inventory, starting with the thick, tawny hair that was pulled into a tail at his nape, moving over the bronzed male features and down the hard, perfectly sculpted body shown to advantage in black chino slacks and white shirt.

Her dazzled gaze returned to his gorgeous face, her heart slamming against her ribs.

Those eyes…she’d never seen anything like them. A green as pale as spring grass with yellow swirls that seemed to glow in the fading light.

Pantera
, a voice whispered through her mind.

It didn’t take the memory of her boss explaining that the age-old stories were true to warn her that this male was one of the elusive puma shifters.

Or even his inhuman beauty.

She could physically
feel
the cat that crawled beneath the surface.

“You’re Reny Smith?” he murmured, his voice whiskey smooth with a hint of a southern drawl.

The sound of it wrapped around her like heated honey, warming places that shouldn’t be warmed in public.

Damn.

Something stirred deep inside her. Not just the strange restlessness that had been plaguing her, but an aching need that was suddenly ignited in the pit of her stomach.

She determinedly squared her shoulders. What was wrong with her?

This was her big opportunity.

She wasn’t going to blow it because this man was making her squirm with unfamiliar sensations.

“I am. I assume you’re Mr.—”

“Sebastian,” he interrupted, prowling across the institutional gray carpet to stand directly in front of her.

Heat licked over her skin.

“You’re late.”

The yellow in his eyes deepened to gold as his gaze skimmed down to where her white blouse was opened just enough to give a hint of her breasts.

“Actually, I would say I’m just in time,” he murmured.

Reny should have rolled her eyes. She’d learned to ignore the typical male response to her looks since entering the academy.

Now, however, she was instantly on the defensive.

“Look, I’m here to work. If you…” She stiffened as he leaned forward, his nose flaring as if he were dragging in her scent. “What?”

“They told me you were human,” he growled softly.

“Human?” She blinked in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I can smell your cat.”

A cold chill inched down her spine as she met his unnerving gaze. “Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?”

A tawny brow flicked upward. “Why would it be a joke?”

“I don’t know what you think you smell, but I can assure you I don’t even own a cat.” The words had barely left her mouth when he’d closed the small space between them and pressed his nose to the curve of her neck. She sucked in a terrified breath. Not because she was frightened of the overtly beautiful man. But because his touch was sending jolts of savage arousal through her trembling body. “Please don’t,” she husked.