Bullet
Chapter 16
16
TWO OF OUR guards came through first, holding the long drapes aside so that Haven and his lions could go through. He was around six feet tall, a little narrower through the shoulders than I liked, but what frame he had was muscled. He took his conditioning seriously, but lions are more prone to have fights for dominance at short notice. Staying in shape could be the difference between living or dying. Most lions took their exercise pretty seriously because of that.
He was wearing a long, pale trench coat over a nice suit. He was all tans and cream, as if the clothing were a preview of the lion inside him. His hair was still shades of blue, with highlights and lowlights as if blue were a natural color for human hair, so that the dye job was still one of the best unnatural shades I'd ever seen. The hair was shaved short on the sides and longer on top so he could gel it in little spikes. His eyes were still blue. My lioness sniffed the air as soon as I saw him, because primate that I was, I wanted to see him, but my lioness wanted to smell him.
His power crept over me as if warm breath had suddenly drifted over every inch of my skin. I shivered and my lioness began to pad up that long metaphysical path. She'd liked Haven from the moment we met him. I'd known bad news when I saw it. But nothing changed how much my body wanted him. I wanted to be naked and roll every inch of me over every inch of him the way a cat will luxuriate while it's scent-marking. He was mine and I was his the way that Micah and I had belonged to each other. My pulse sped.
Nathaniel's hand tightened in mine, and Damian scooted closer, putting his arm around us both. It helped me think, helped slow my pulse. Jean-Claude put his hand in my last free hand, and that helped even more. I didn't have to look to know that Richard had put his arm across the couch so that he was touching Jean-Claude, too. I knew we were all touching, and with every touch I was a little less the victim of the lion inside me, and the one walking into the room.
Haven's energy breathed harder against my skin. I smelled sun-burnt grass, dust, and the rich scent of lion. Once it would have been enough to bring my lioness crashing against the walls of my body; with everyone's hands on me it was tempting, but I didn't have to give in to it.
A low growl vibrated out from between those human lips. The sound of it seemed to vibrate along my spine, as if my body were a tuning fork and that one low sound hit just the right note. I tried to stand up and hands held me in my seat. I turned on them, snarling, my lioness loud in my head.
Haven strode across the carpet toward us, and I knew he meant to jerk me free of all that restraint. His power went before him like an advance attack. I could either stand up and go to him in this body, or my lioness could try to go to him in a different one. I actually got to my feet. Jean-Claude and Nathaniel still had my hands, but I was standing, wanting Haven to touch me. His energy seemed strong, and giving in to it a little had kept the lion from trying to tear her way out of me.
Bram was a dark blur just suddenly appearing in front of me, blocking Haven's way. I knew that Micah had told him to do it. A small logical part of me knew why he'd done it, and even agreed as Nimir-Ra, but the lioness didn't agree. She snarled at Bram's tall form between her and her Rex. She'd have had the same reaction if Bram had stood between her and prey. I pulled free of Nathaniel's hand. Only Jean-Claude kept me from either jumping Bram or just running around him. Truthfully, attacking from behind was the first plan. The visual was of me as a lion on his back, claws digging into his flesh, my teeth sinking into his scalp, his head, crushing his skull.
The visceral almost-memory helped me climb back into my head and push the lioness back. I was a person, not an animal. I could control this. I didn't want to hurt Bram.
When Haven felt my lion go cold, his energy was still there, still seeking lion. It found the lions he'd brought with him. Their energy flared. I could see it, not with my eyes, but with the back of my head. I knew it was Jesse, tall, dark, and handsome, and Payne, tall, pale, and handsome. Payne really was his last name, not a nickname since he was an enforcer. But I saw their lions around them like halos, one with a mane that was almost black and the other so pale it was ghostlike. But there were other lions behind them: a woman I didn't know, tall, strongly built, but all curves. I had an impression of short dark hair, but mostly her lioness was tawny with darker marks so that she looked almost spotted in places. The other woman was much shorter, with long yellow hair, but her lioness wasn't smaller. It was a huge golden form snarling around her human body as if it were a wick and the lion the flame.
Then I saw two more lions lying on the floor. They didn't burn bright. Their lions were red-orange glows like a fire that was fading. They were younger lions, with shorter manes, ragged compared to the other men. Their lions turned and looked at me, one with a halo of dark mane, the other paler, but the lions looked at me. They knew me.
I suddenly saw the world through a golden haze. I turned my head and I could see my lioness over me like a glow just behind my eyes. She, like the other short woman, wasn't a small lion. She was a great dark gold shape rearing over and around me. I'd seen Micah's leopard once like this around him, but never again. Now all I could see was lions.
One of the lions on the floor stirred and lifted his head, and I had the double image of Travis; it was his golden-brown curls with that darker mane around it like an overlay. He looked at me, and he fought to reach his hand out toward me. Injured, it was the closest he could come to the begging gesture that most of the lycanthropes had. It was a submissive's way of asking a dominant to forgive him, to help him.
Noel lay very still beside him. The image of his lion was a dark red shadow, growing dimmer. Some part of me knew what that meant. Noel was dying. In that moment the lioness and I were in agreement. You didn't kill what was ours. In the wild, lionesses will band together to keep a male intruder from taking over a pride. They'll fight beside their chosen males to keep their land, their cubs, safe.
I tried to go around Bram and Haven. I just wanted to get to Noel before that energy died completely. Bram let me walk around, but Haven grabbed for me, and he was faster than either Bram or I thought, because his hand was around my upper arm before Bram could react.
The moment he touched me, all that golden energy swirled together like some golden bonfire. So much power, so much energy. It felt so good. He kissed me while my eyes were still closed from the rush of power. I kissed him back and we opened our eyes and it was like we stood in the center of cool, golden fire.
He smiled down at me, and I had to smile back. Then I heard a voice. "Anita." The voice sounded broken, and I looked behind me. Travis was reaching for me and Noel . . .
I looked up at Haven. "We save Noel first, then we'll talk."
Haven's grip tightened around me. "Even now, feeling this power and you want him. Them?"
"He's dying."
"The weak die; it's the way of lions."
"With this power we can call his beast. We can save him."
His arms tightened further around me. "I don't want him saved."
"I do."
"Be with me and we can save him."
I'd kissed him without thinking, and now my arms were pinned down between our bodies with his arms wrapped around me. I couldn't reach either gun or the big knife down my back, but I could reach the wrist sheaths. I pretended to struggle ineffectually and knew Haven of all the men in my life would buy it. One of our problems was that he just couldn't see women as equal. Equally dangerous, that is.
I used the struggling to hide my drawing one of the slender silver blades, and only as he felt my arm tense to drive the blade home did he realize his danger.
He started to let me go, to get distance, but I had time to start the blade into his body. Had time to feel it sink home, the razor-sharp blade slicing through his shirt and the meat underneath, sinking home the way it had a hundred other times in big bad monsters. The only thing that saved him was that he had my arms pinned too low on his body for me to reach his heart, even if he hadn't moved.
He let me go, stumbling back from me. I had time to see the blood on my knife, the first bloom of red on his shirt, the surprise on his face. His two guards were frozen, not knowing what to do. It was as if they hadn't believed I'd hurt him.
I yelled to our guards, "Keep him off me until I've healed Noel." I didn't turn my back on the wounded werelion, but I backed up as fast as I could. Bram and the other guards were moving around Haven ready to do exactly what I'd said.
The taller female werelion was kneeling beside Noel. She was stroking his hair, and I realized the moment I'd stabbed Haven that the double vision of glowing lions overlaid on the human form had vanished, as if I'd done something to damage all that power.
The woman raised brown eyes to me. They were shiny with unshed tears. She whispered, "You're too late."
TWO OF OUR guards came through first, holding the long drapes aside so that Haven and his lions could go through. He was around six feet tall, a little narrower through the shoulders than I liked, but what frame he had was muscled. He took his conditioning seriously, but lions are more prone to have fights for dominance at short notice. Staying in shape could be the difference between living or dying. Most lions took their exercise pretty seriously because of that.
He was wearing a long, pale trench coat over a nice suit. He was all tans and cream, as if the clothing were a preview of the lion inside him. His hair was still shades of blue, with highlights and lowlights as if blue were a natural color for human hair, so that the dye job was still one of the best unnatural shades I'd ever seen. The hair was shaved short on the sides and longer on top so he could gel it in little spikes. His eyes were still blue. My lioness sniffed the air as soon as I saw him, because primate that I was, I wanted to see him, but my lioness wanted to smell him.
His power crept over me as if warm breath had suddenly drifted over every inch of my skin. I shivered and my lioness began to pad up that long metaphysical path. She'd liked Haven from the moment we met him. I'd known bad news when I saw it. But nothing changed how much my body wanted him. I wanted to be naked and roll every inch of me over every inch of him the way a cat will luxuriate while it's scent-marking. He was mine and I was his the way that Micah and I had belonged to each other. My pulse sped.
Nathaniel's hand tightened in mine, and Damian scooted closer, putting his arm around us both. It helped me think, helped slow my pulse. Jean-Claude put his hand in my last free hand, and that helped even more. I didn't have to look to know that Richard had put his arm across the couch so that he was touching Jean-Claude, too. I knew we were all touching, and with every touch I was a little less the victim of the lion inside me, and the one walking into the room.
Haven's energy breathed harder against my skin. I smelled sun-burnt grass, dust, and the rich scent of lion. Once it would have been enough to bring my lioness crashing against the walls of my body; with everyone's hands on me it was tempting, but I didn't have to give in to it.
A low growl vibrated out from between those human lips. The sound of it seemed to vibrate along my spine, as if my body were a tuning fork and that one low sound hit just the right note. I tried to stand up and hands held me in my seat. I turned on them, snarling, my lioness loud in my head.
Haven strode across the carpet toward us, and I knew he meant to jerk me free of all that restraint. His power went before him like an advance attack. I could either stand up and go to him in this body, or my lioness could try to go to him in a different one. I actually got to my feet. Jean-Claude and Nathaniel still had my hands, but I was standing, wanting Haven to touch me. His energy seemed strong, and giving in to it a little had kept the lion from trying to tear her way out of me.
Bram was a dark blur just suddenly appearing in front of me, blocking Haven's way. I knew that Micah had told him to do it. A small logical part of me knew why he'd done it, and even agreed as Nimir-Ra, but the lioness didn't agree. She snarled at Bram's tall form between her and her Rex. She'd have had the same reaction if Bram had stood between her and prey. I pulled free of Nathaniel's hand. Only Jean-Claude kept me from either jumping Bram or just running around him. Truthfully, attacking from behind was the first plan. The visual was of me as a lion on his back, claws digging into his flesh, my teeth sinking into his scalp, his head, crushing his skull.
The visceral almost-memory helped me climb back into my head and push the lioness back. I was a person, not an animal. I could control this. I didn't want to hurt Bram.
When Haven felt my lion go cold, his energy was still there, still seeking lion. It found the lions he'd brought with him. Their energy flared. I could see it, not with my eyes, but with the back of my head. I knew it was Jesse, tall, dark, and handsome, and Payne, tall, pale, and handsome. Payne really was his last name, not a nickname since he was an enforcer. But I saw their lions around them like halos, one with a mane that was almost black and the other so pale it was ghostlike. But there were other lions behind them: a woman I didn't know, tall, strongly built, but all curves. I had an impression of short dark hair, but mostly her lioness was tawny with darker marks so that she looked almost spotted in places. The other woman was much shorter, with long yellow hair, but her lioness wasn't smaller. It was a huge golden form snarling around her human body as if it were a wick and the lion the flame.
Then I saw two more lions lying on the floor. They didn't burn bright. Their lions were red-orange glows like a fire that was fading. They were younger lions, with shorter manes, ragged compared to the other men. Their lions turned and looked at me, one with a halo of dark mane, the other paler, but the lions looked at me. They knew me.
I suddenly saw the world through a golden haze. I turned my head and I could see my lioness over me like a glow just behind my eyes. She, like the other short woman, wasn't a small lion. She was a great dark gold shape rearing over and around me. I'd seen Micah's leopard once like this around him, but never again. Now all I could see was lions.
One of the lions on the floor stirred and lifted his head, and I had the double image of Travis; it was his golden-brown curls with that darker mane around it like an overlay. He looked at me, and he fought to reach his hand out toward me. Injured, it was the closest he could come to the begging gesture that most of the lycanthropes had. It was a submissive's way of asking a dominant to forgive him, to help him.
Noel lay very still beside him. The image of his lion was a dark red shadow, growing dimmer. Some part of me knew what that meant. Noel was dying. In that moment the lioness and I were in agreement. You didn't kill what was ours. In the wild, lionesses will band together to keep a male intruder from taking over a pride. They'll fight beside their chosen males to keep their land, their cubs, safe.
I tried to go around Bram and Haven. I just wanted to get to Noel before that energy died completely. Bram let me walk around, but Haven grabbed for me, and he was faster than either Bram or I thought, because his hand was around my upper arm before Bram could react.
The moment he touched me, all that golden energy swirled together like some golden bonfire. So much power, so much energy. It felt so good. He kissed me while my eyes were still closed from the rush of power. I kissed him back and we opened our eyes and it was like we stood in the center of cool, golden fire.
He smiled down at me, and I had to smile back. Then I heard a voice. "Anita." The voice sounded broken, and I looked behind me. Travis was reaching for me and Noel . . .
I looked up at Haven. "We save Noel first, then we'll talk."
Haven's grip tightened around me. "Even now, feeling this power and you want him. Them?"
"He's dying."
"The weak die; it's the way of lions."
"With this power we can call his beast. We can save him."
His arms tightened further around me. "I don't want him saved."
"I do."
"Be with me and we can save him."
I'd kissed him without thinking, and now my arms were pinned down between our bodies with his arms wrapped around me. I couldn't reach either gun or the big knife down my back, but I could reach the wrist sheaths. I pretended to struggle ineffectually and knew Haven of all the men in my life would buy it. One of our problems was that he just couldn't see women as equal. Equally dangerous, that is.
I used the struggling to hide my drawing one of the slender silver blades, and only as he felt my arm tense to drive the blade home did he realize his danger.
He started to let me go, to get distance, but I had time to start the blade into his body. Had time to feel it sink home, the razor-sharp blade slicing through his shirt and the meat underneath, sinking home the way it had a hundred other times in big bad monsters. The only thing that saved him was that he had my arms pinned too low on his body for me to reach his heart, even if he hadn't moved.
He let me go, stumbling back from me. I had time to see the blood on my knife, the first bloom of red on his shirt, the surprise on his face. His two guards were frozen, not knowing what to do. It was as if they hadn't believed I'd hurt him.
I yelled to our guards, "Keep him off me until I've healed Noel." I didn't turn my back on the wounded werelion, but I backed up as fast as I could. Bram and the other guards were moving around Haven ready to do exactly what I'd said.
The taller female werelion was kneeling beside Noel. She was stroking his hair, and I realized the moment I'd stabbed Haven that the double vision of glowing lions overlaid on the human form had vanished, as if I'd done something to damage all that power.
The woman raised brown eyes to me. They were shiny with unshed tears. She whispered, "You're too late."
