Hunger Untamed (23 page)
Ariana turned to him. "Your friends are out of time, Kougar. I'll go after them while you track down Hookeye."
"We go together."
"To the temple, yes. I'll need you to help me break through the Mage . . ." Her face pinched. ". . . and my maidens. But once I'm through the gate to the Syphian Stream, you can't follow."
"I'll kill Hookeye."
"Yes."
Teamwork. Something that had been severely lacking in their marriage once upon a time. But history was repeating itself, her maidens attacked, their queen desperate to save them. If they died, as she feared they would, it would once more be because of him. Because he'd ripped the moonstone cuff from her wrist and revealed her to her enemy. She'd blame him. Every time she saw his face, every time he tried to make love to her, she'd remember this day. The tragedy they both feared was about to unfold.
Any thought he might have had of a future with her hung on a very fragile thread.
His gaze captured Lyon's. "The only way for Ariana to reach the spirit trap, and Hawke and Tighe, is through the temple. We're going to need help."
Lyon nodded and gave a shout for his warriors.
Ariana turned to Kougar. "Are you still feeling the poison?"
"Hardly at all. The bastard wants me to survive long enough to be captured in the spirit trap."
"It's not going to happen."
Their gazes met, locked, fierce determination arcing between them. "No. It's not."
Within moments, all within Feral House were outside, gathered around. The Chief of the Ferals began issuing orders.
"Olivia, you're in charge here. I'm counting on you, Ewan, and Delaney to guard our Radiant with your lives."
A soft growl rumbled from Jag's throat, but Olivia's eyes lit like beacons. "You have my vow, Lyon. No one will harm her."
"Good. The rest of us are going to the Ilinas' earthbound temple in the Himalayas. The Temple of the Queens. Arm yourselves." Lyon turned to Melisande. "I need you to pick up two of my warriors and bring them to us. Wulfe's gone to Harpers Ferry. Paenther's on the Eastern Shore. I'll warn them you're coming."
Melisande nodded.
As Lyon pulled out his cell phone, Kougar saw Jag slip his arm around Olivia's neck, pulling her close. "A few days ago, I thought he was going to kill you," Jag murmured to his mate. "Now he puts you in charge of Feral House and his mate."
Olivia looked up at him, her mouth struggling to contain the smile leaping from her eyes. "You jealous?"
A slow grin spread across the jaguar shifter's face. "Hell no, woman. I'm proud. Just don't let it go to your head, Red." He kissed her temple, a slow, gentle kiss that throbbed with love and an aching need to protect that Kougar understood all too well. "Be careful."
"You, too."
A moment later, Lyon glanced at Melisande. "Paenther's ready. Wulfe's finding a place to park the car where his disappearance won't be seen by humans." He turned to Ariana. "Are you able to transfer the rest of us, Queen Ariana?"
"I am."
Lyon's gaze snapped to Kougar. "Anything else?"
"No."
"Then let's do it! It's high time we got Tighe and Hawke home."
The wind whipped at Ariana's thin dress, plastering it against the side of her body, tossing her hair into her eyes as she stared up at the golden temple from the path below. The sun escaped the clouds for one brief moment, setting the ivory temple afire before the shadows doused the brilliance once more.
Ariana felt light, literally, as if with the dissemination of the poison she'd lost forty pounds. And perhaps she had. But her heart felt heavy with grief and the leaden fear that her maidens were going to die.
And Kougar . . . No. She couldn't fear for him, too, or she wouldn't be able to function. The Ferals would win this battle. She had to believe that.
If only she'd called on their aid from the start, the moment her maidens started dying.
Hookeye had always been stronger than she'd realized. At last she knew, from the vantage point of distance and hindsight, that the Ilinas had never had a chance of defeating him on their own. She should have turned to Kougar in those days, not away.
If only.
Instead, she'd put them both through hell. And her maidens were all going to die anyway.
Kougar stood beside her, his shoulder inches from her own. She'd asked him not to touch her, and he'd seemed to understand that if he cradled her now, as she really wanted him to, if he offered too much sympathy, she might crumble, the wild grief inside her taking her down. She had to stay strong. Shoulder to shoulder, he held her up, lending her the strength to fight the battle to come.
Melisande appeared with the last of the Ferals. Wulfe, she thought this one was called. The shifter stood for a full ten seconds before dropping to one knee to retch on the rocks beside the others.
As the Ferals shook off the effects of the travel, Ariana started up the path, needing a moment alone. She reached the spot where she could see the temple yard just as the sun came out again. Flashes of steel glittered across the grounds, the swords held by her maidens, her friends. Dozens of them stood like automatons scattered in rough lines, their eyes blank with enthrallment.
Brielle stood with her dark hair loose and flying around her shoulders in the cold wind. Ariana's stomach felt as if it were being hollowed out with a blade. What kind of monster would force her to cut down her own people to reach him? Then again, as Melisande said, they were already dead. The poison she'd protected them from for so long would steal their lives as surely as Hookeye had stolen their wills.
Her eyes burned, tears escaping to be whisked from her cheeks by the cold wind. Grief pummeled her, leaving raw bruises on her heart that she knew would never heal.
How would she survive such a loss a second time? There would be no one left but Melisande. Two to renew a race. They could do it, of course. She alone could call the magic of rebirth and bring forth new Ilinas upon the Altar of Life, now that she could turn to mist again. She and Melisande would teach them what they needed to know.
But even as her mind set forth what she must do, her heart shattered at the need to do it. How could she go on without Brielle and Getrill and the others? She would, because she'd have no choice.
Goddess, it will
destroy me.
The wind raked at her hair and her thin gown, the cold of the air no match for the bitter cold she felt within.
She felt Kougar move beside her, felt his hand slide under her hair to curve around the back of her neck. Warmth. Strength. He gave her both and more, grounding her, pulling her back to the here and now.
Taking a shuddering breath, she felt the cold abyss move away. For the moment.
She could not lose him, too. On the most fundamental level, she needed him. Her life would never be right without him. She knew that now.
But could he ever forgive her for betraying him all those years ago? Could he ever learn to trust her as he trusted his Feral brothers? Could he ever come to love her again as she loved him?
His warm fingers kneaded the tension in her neck. "We'll guard you and get you in there," he said quietly.
"No." She fingered the sword gripped tight in her hand, the sword she'd demanded from him at Feral House. Glancing over her shoulder, she briefly met his gaze. "I'll fight my way in there just as you will."
As she turned back to face the yard, his hand fell away, to be replaced a moment later by a light pressure on the top of her head, the brush of his chin. "My warrior queen," he murmured, barely loud enough for her to hear.
His words strengthened her, his simple, soft use of the word
my
lifting her heart in hope.
"That's the last fucking time I'm traveling by Ilina," Jag muttered, as the Ferals joined them.
"Any sign of Hookeye?" Kougar asked her.
"No." She'd been so focused on her own maidens, she hadn't really looked; but as her gaze moved back to the temple, she saw only a few scattered Mage and none who looked like the one she wanted dead. He was probably tucked safely in his laboratory, in the room where he'd been in his dream, working at his table on whatever magic would best destroy the Ferals.
She glanced at Kougar and found him watching her, pain in his eyes mixed with a deep, caring warmth.
"You're hurting," she murmured.
His knuckles brushed her cheek. "For you."
The constricting band tightened around her chest, pricking her eyes with tears, forcing her to turn away before she gave in to the terrible need to pour out her grief within the circle of his strong arms.
Kougar turned to his men. "No killing. The Ilinas are enthralled and not our enemies. Killing too many Mage could cause an earthquake that would destroy the temple and make it impossible to reach Hawke and Tighe. The only one who dies is Hookeye, and Ariana and I are the only ones who know what he looks like."
"Stay alert," Lyon added. "These bastards have access to a spirit trap, and they want us in it."
"They're not getting what they want," Jag snarled.
Wulfe grunted. "Hell, no."
"Just keep your eyes and senses open," Lyon added.
Kougar palmed the top of Ariana's head, then slid his hand down her hair. "Be careful."
She blinked hard against the flood of warm caring she felt in his touch. "You, too." She couldn't meet his gaze, or the tears would get the better of her. But he gripped her shoulders and turned her to him, kissing her with a quick, passionate meeting of lips.
Through the mating bond, she felt a burst of tangled emotions. Fear and fury, savage determination and aching tenderness.
Unable to resist, she met his gaze and fell into those fierce pale eyes.
"We're going to win, Ariana. We're going to beat him." He kissed her forehead. "Come back to me."
Hope bloomed inside her with a fragrant beauty. "Yes. And you to me."
Beside them, Lyon lifted his arm toward the temple.
"Go!"
Kougar touched her face for one tender moment, then moved behind her, strong and protective at her back. With a fierce cry, the Feral Warriors, Melisande, and Ariana raced into battle.
With one hand, Kougar swung his sword, parrying the blows of the enthralled Ilinas, while with his other he grabbed slender wrists or feminine necks, and tossed his petite assailants far from the field of battle. The falls might hurt the Ilinas, but any injuries sustained would heal quickly enough. And for a few minutes, the women would be out of the way of slashing swords. For once, the Ferals weren't fighting in their animal forms but their human since they didn't want to hurt, let alone kill, their unwilling opponents.
The Ilinas were quick, deadly little fighters, but the magic thick around the temple was holding them all to flesh and blood. Unable to turn to mist, they'd lost the advantage of surprise, their speed and strength no match for the Feral Warriors'. Still, they fought with the single-mindedness of puppets in the hands of a puppet master.
Paenther and Vhyper fought as a team, falling back into the natural rhythm they'd always had. Kougar was glad to see it. Vhyper hadn't been himself since Paenther helped him reclaim his soul. But maybe there was hope for the Feral, yet.
On his other side, Ariana fought, refusing to stay protected within their ranks. She'd always been a warrior, but her skill was a hundred times greater than the last time he'd seen her, reminding him that she'd been a woman on her own for far too long. With her blue satin gown splotched purple with blood, her skin blood-streaked, and her hair a wild tumble around her shoulders, she reminded him of a warrior queen of old, her eyes fierce and glowing.
Never had she looked more beautiful. Never had he loved her more.
One of the Mage sentinels broke through the ranks of Ilinas, his blue tunic rippling in the wind, his sword flashing with the sun's fire. Kougar took him on with a vengeance, funneling his fury into the first combatant he'd been able to fight . . . and hurt . . . without compunction. In the Mage's eyes, he saw no light of battle, no emotion at all.
"Even the sentinels are enthralled!" he shouted to his companions. It seemed that Hookeye had enthralled even his own.
He fought the Mage in a quick, intense battle, his opponent a skilled fighter even with his will controlled by another. But in moments, Kougar sliced off the man's hand, sending his blade flying. As the man yelled with pain, Kougar grabbed his other hand and cut if off, too. His hands would grow back quickly enough, but he'd be no threat in the meantime.
As the Ferals hacked a path to the temple, Kougar gave thanks that the place was so isolated that the Mage had had no easy way to send up reinforcements in time to defend it properly. Thank the goddess, so far they'd been able to dispatch the Ilinas without anyone's suffering serious harm.
They fought their way up the ivory steps between the great pillars and into the temple's wide rotunda, where the remaining half dozen sentinels and last twelve Ilinas met them beneath the giant golden statue of the first queen.
As the battle resumed inside, the clang of swords echoing off the stone walls, Ariana broke away. Kougar followed, covering her back as she made her escape to find the passage that would lead her into the Syphian Stream and the spirit trap.
On feet as graceful as a gazelle's, Ariana slipped around a corner and started up an open, twisting stair that led to the narrow gallery ringing the curved inner dome, Kougar close behind. When they reached the top of the stairs, he noticed the series of niches that lined the inner wall, perhaps a dozen of which were filled with the life-sized stone carvings of warrior women. Queens? Was Ariana's likeness among them?
He didn't get a chance to find out as she paused beside the second niche, as if searching her memories. She turned to him, her eyes heavier than he'd ever seen them, yet lit with the fire of determination.
"This is it. This is the door. Wish me luck."
He lifted his hand, pressing it to her cheek. Her lashes drifted down as if she absorbed his strength, his touch. Goddess, she was about to travel into the spirit trap. His heart clutched at the danger she was about to face and the knowledge that he wouldn't be there to guard her. He couldn't go where she was going without ending up just like Hawke and Tighe.
Lifting her hand to his, she turned and pressed a kiss to his palm, then turned back to the door niche to call the magic that would let her through.
At least they'd made it there without any Mage trying to stop them.
The thought went through him like a bolt of lightning.
No Mage had tried to stop them.
He grabbed her shoulder.
"Wait."
Ariana glanced at him. "What?"
"It's too easy.
This
is the trap."
She turned slowly back to face him. "I have to go through if I'm going to save them."
"Hookeye knows we're here to breach that spirit trap, and he controls every Mage and Ilina in the room. Yet no one tried to stop us."
"Maybe he doesn't know this is the door."
"Regardless, no one followed us. He wants you to go through that door."
Her lips pressed together. Slowly, she nodded. "You're right. But what are we . . ." Her gaze flicked behind him, eyes widening. "Kougar, look."
He whirled toward the battle, seeing immediately what had caught her attention--the glimmer of firelit magic circling the floor around the statue of the first queen. Enclosing the Ferals.
He lunged for the balustrade. "Trap! Out of the temple!
Now.
"
But his warning came too late. Even as he shouted the words, the magic shot up, arcing over the statue to form a glimmering, gleaming bubble. A bubble trapping all five Feral Warriors and nearly twelve Ilinas, including Melisande and Brielle.
The moment the trap snapped closed, all the Ilinas except Melisande fell unconscious, as if the one calling the shots didn't want the Ferals harmed. As if he wanted them alive for what came next.
The Ferals leaped for the bubble, fighting to break through with knives and claws, but their efforts were futile.
Disbelief and denial tore through Kougar's mind like shock waves. "The spirit trap."