“Mon dieu, do you scent it?” Hiss called from the bank.
Mal didn’t answer. She was upon it now, its heady fragrance slamming into her nostrils. It made her insides vibrate, and her outsides, too. She reached out, palmed the large water lily that had only a moment ago been as white as the clouds overhead. Now, it was pale lavender, the color growing deeper and more vibrant with every moment that passed. She couldn’t speak, she was smiling too hard.
The most perfect Dyesse Lily she had ever seen.
Even though they knew it was the time of year for the Dyesse Fete, they had all been secretly praying the celebration of the birth of the Pantera—and the most important holiday in the Wildlands—would actually come to pass. With the land’s magic deteriorating at such a rapid rate, they’d wondered if any would remain.
Especially something so powerful and rare as the Dyesse.
She released the lily, and as she did, the two bracketing it started to change. By tonight, even the moon would turn a shockingly beautiful shade of violet. Laughing with unabashed happiness, she turned back to Hiss on the shore, and a silent understanding passed between them.
“I’m going right now,” he called. “I’ll tell Parish.”
She swam toward him with fast, powerful strokes, hit the shore just as he shifted into his puma and growled his excitement. She did the same, shaking off the excess water that had transferred from her skin to the fur of her puma.
Hiss spoke inside her head. You want to go with me?
She looked up, growled. To the fete?
His puma nodded, smoky-grey eyes flashing with enthusiasm. Good food, music, sparring matches. We were the first to spot the change. It’s only right we celebrate together.
Hiss was a friend, nothing more, but she liked him, felt comfortable with him, and god, it felt good to be asked. And, she thought with wicked intent, maybe good for Xavier to see. A grown male, a Hunter, wanted to take her to the most important night of the year for the Pantera—the night when unbridled mating was encouraged.
She grinned at the auburn cat. Okay.
Great! I’ll pick you up around seven.
He turned and darted off into the forest, and Mal glanced over her shoulder, crying out into the fragrant air as she saw yards of Dyesse lilies turn purple on the calm surface of the bayou.
* * *
“I don’t want to see him, Jax,” Xavier said with an irritated growl. “I just want to talk to him.”
The male guarding the door leading to the quarantine barracks shook his head. “Sorry, mon ami.”
“Look, the male’s a good friend. I’m watching his house, his sister.” A soft snarl accompanied that last word. Xavier ignored it. “I need a word.”
“Can’t help you. There’s no outside communication unless this is an emergency.” The male raised a pale blond brow. “Is this an emergency?”
Fuck. “No. It’s not.” He released a frustrated breath. “Fine. I’ll see him in a couple of days.”
“That’s only an estimate,” Jax said with a thin-lipped smile. “Could be a week. We just don’t know.”
Perfect. The news just got better and better, Xavier thought darkly. And more problematic. Three days under the same roof as that towel-wearing puma temptress was bad enough. How the hell was he going to last a week?
He gave the guard a curt nod, then turned and headed back down the hall. Maybe he could get someone else to watch her? One of the grandmothers… A low chuckle exited his throat. Yeah, that would go over well. She barely tolerated him. She’d make quick work of some sweet, old Pantera female.
“Hey, X.”
Lost in thought, Xavier turned to see Raphael a few feet away. The leader of the Suits looked pretty shredded, like he hadn’t slept in weeks, and was standing outside his mate, Ashe’s, room, with a small group: Hunter leader Parish, Nurturer Jean-Baptiste and his mate, Genevieve, who Xavier knew from her momentary blip with the Geeks. They all turned to acknowledge him.
“Checking in on Aristide?” Jean-Baptiste asked. Being from the same faction, the Nurturer knew that Xavier and Aristide were tight.
“Something like that,” Xavier said. Not keen on giving out details about his problem with Amalie, he quickly turned from the heavily tatted male to Raphael and changed the subject. “How is she? Your mate?”
The Suit’s jaw went tight and he slid his green gaze toward the closed door. “She was better when her sister was around.”
“The quarantine?” Xavier asked.
Raphael nodded.
Yeah, that thing was fucking with everyone’s lives.
“But I’m hoping I can take her out for awhile,” the Suit said. “Take her to the fete tonight.”
“The fete?” Xavier repeated, momentarily stunned. He looked from Raphael to Parish. “Has there been a sighting?”
Parish nodded, his gold eyes flashing, his face splitting into a wide grin. “Two of my Hunters spotted a bayou of purple lilies about thirty minutes ago.”
Amazing, Xavier mused. And wonderful. He’d been wondering if the Dyesse would occur this year. It had been a hope on everyone’s mind.
“Can’t wait to take Julia,” Parish said with a growl. “Celebrate our fertility right.”
Leaning against Jean-Baptiste’s side, Genevieve laughed. “I’d be careful. Females, even humans ones I imagine, can be overly demanding on the Dyesse Eve.”
Parish grinned wickedly. “I look forward to being chased and caught by my Doc.”
“Are you ready to run, my love?” Genevieve asked her male with a teasing grin.
Growling, pulling the blond female closer to his side, Jean-Baptiste nuzzled her cheek. “I will never run from you, Genny. It’s time wasted when you could be ravishing the shit out of me.”
Everyone laughed, even Raphael. It was good to see, Xavier mused. The ghost of a male letting down his guard. But it didn’t last long. He turned his weary gaze back on Xavier.
“I know you met with the PI. Did she have something of interest? How are things progressing with Chayton? Any leads?”
Though most of the Pantera knew about their search for Ashe and Isi’s father, it was the Suit leader who Xavier was reporting to. The male had become the reluctant go-between for the elders.
“I went through a shitload of sales records today from several different camera shops,” he said with a snarl of frustration. “I want to figure out where this camera came from and who put it there. I don’t think it was our enemies or human tattoo artist, Derek.” He shook his head. “But you know me, whoever it is, I’ll get them.”
Raphael cuffed him on the arm. “I know you will. And hopefully it will lead us to Chayton.”
Just then, the door beside Raphael opened and Parish’s mate, Dr. Julia, poked her head out. “She’s asking for you, Raphael.”
Instantly alert, Raphael gave them a quick nod. “See you later. We should all take the night off and celebrate our birth, and the magic that continues within us despite those who are trying to destroy it.” He eyed Xavier. “Even you, X.”
As Raphael disappeared inside the room of his mate, Xavier and the rest of the group offered quick goodbyes before disbanding. Walking down the hall toward the front doors, Xavier thought about the Suit’s words. A night off to celebrate the birth of his kind. He wanted that. Wanted to be a part of that. But time was ticking away. He had to find out who had placed that camera, and he had to find Chayton before those assholes did. Before they found him and used him to wake Shakpi.
If Xavier did his job right, there would be many more purple moons to celebrate.
CHAPTER FIVE
Butterflies inside her stomach and ants crawling up her spine, Mal put the finishing touches on her makeup, then stood back and took a long, hard look at herself. Not bad. For a first attempt. Lipstick, eyeliner and mascara were definitely not her thing. In fact, she’d felt kind of clueless putting it on and had needed to use one of Xavier’s computers to look up a tutorial on how to apply makeup without loo
king like a clown.
She grinned at herself.
Normally, she went all natural. The Hunter look: jeans, tank, boots, clean face, easy and ready to shift into her puma. But tonight, she really wanted to make some heads explode. Well, one head. One very gorgeous, very stubborn head.
She was just finishing up washing her hands when she heard the front door open. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she fumbled with the towel. This was it. The great reveal. Not only had she put on makeup, but her dark hair was brushed to a shine and hung down her back in gentle waves, and the ultra-feminine dress she wore didn’t even remotely resemble Hunter gear.
“Honey, I’m home!” Xavier called, the dark humor in his tone obvious. “Where are you? I brought dinner. I’m warming it up.” The mild crash of a pot hitting the stovetop rose above the sudden silence. Then, “Aristide said you don’t cook, or you can’t cook. I can’t remember which.”
With one last look in the mirror, she released the breath she’d been holding and opened the door to her room. She spotted Xavier right away. He was bent over the kitchen counter, staring at the screen of his computer, something heating up in a pot on the stove, a rugged blue flame shooting off sparks beneath it. She swallowed, smoothed the front of her dress and walked toward him.
“Which one is it?” Xavier called, still staring at the screen. “You can’t cook or you don’t?”
“Both,” she said.
Courage, Female. You hunt bad guys and badass animal prey all damn day, and this male’s reaction to your new look is making you sweat?
“But I won’t be eating dinner,” she added, moving toward him, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not here anyway.”
“What are you talking about, Female?” he asked, tearing his gaze from the screen to look up.
When he did, when he saw her, when his eyes traveled from her shiny hair all the way down to her strappy sandals, a strange sound exited his lips. It was like a cross between a wheeze and a growl, and ended with a ferocious lip curl. She waited for him to say something, move. But he didn’t. He just stood there, hands balling into fists, ice blue eyes turning frosty—and his puma vibrating beneath his skin.
Forcing her nerves aside, Mal strode toward him. “Puma got your tongue, Xavier?”
His gaze remained fixed on her as she moved. “What are you wearing?”
“That’s the first thing you’re saying to me? Seriously.”
“Hell yes, seriously,” he growled. “Deadly seriously.”
She stopped directly in front of him and lifted her chin. “It’s a dress, Xavier.”
His nostrils flared and she felt his cat’s heat radiate off his body. “And why are you wearing a dress?”
“I’m going out.”
His lip curled, and he slowly shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere. Not like that.”
“Like what exactly? Dressed up? Looking hot?”
His eyes nearly bugged out of his head.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” She grinned, then turned in a slow circle in front of him. “I do look hot, right?”
His jaw was so tight, Mal thought it might shatter into a hundred pieces.
“Doesn’t matter, Amalie,” he said icily. “You’re not going out. Not like that, and not alone.”
She looked up at him through her lashes. Her curled and painted lashes. “I’m not going alone.”
This time, he moved. Closed the distance between them in one stride. He was so tall, so broad. Fearsome and sexy. Why couldn’t he just lift her up and plant a killer kiss on her eager lips? He was so goddamn frustrating. “I have a date.”
“No.” He said the single word without heat.
She cocked her head to the side and chewed her lower lip. “I’m not asking permission.”
“Good, because you’re not getting it.”
Her gaze flickered past him, to the stove—to the raging blue flame. Something caught her eye; something bubbling out of control. “Your sauce, or whatever it is you’re making, is burning.”
Cursing, Xavier whirled around and rushed to the stovetop. Without thinking, he grabbed the handle of the pot, then cursed again when the metal burned his hand. He tossed the pot into the sink and slammed on the water.
Forgetting the irritation-slash-flirtation from a moment ago, Mal hurried to the sink and to his side. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” he growled, fisting his hand.
“Let me see it.”
“It’s nothing.”
She grabbed his hand and forced his fingers open. “Stop being a stubborn ass.” Angry red welts decorated his palm. “Let’s get some cool water on it.”
He didn’t fight when she guided his hand under the faucet, but hissed when the water met his skin.
“You’re mothering me, Amalie,” he said on a growl. “I don’t need it.”
She looked up at him, met those crystal blue eyes that always made her weak. “Welcome to my world, Friend.”
He snarled gently. “Last thing I’m trying to do is mother you.”
“Then what is it? This thing you’re doing with me?”
His nostrils flared as he stared down at her, and once again, she felt heat roll off him. Why couldn’t he say it, she thought angrily. Why couldn’t he admit there was something inside him that wanted to reach out and touch her?
“I could make this cub go away, Amalie,” he said, his eyes on her mouth now.
“He’s not a cub. He’s a grown male, a Hunter.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Matters to me, Xavier. I deserve to celebrate this holiday like all the other Pantera. Maybe even more so, being the final birth.”
That silenced him.
At least until the knock on the door.
His head came up, his eyes narrowed and he growled with unabashed antagonism.
“Okay, no.” Amalie dropped his hand, which was already starting to heal, and pointed a finger at him. “You’re not going to interrogate him or threaten him or whatever.”
His eyes still pinned on the door, Xavier gave her a lazy shrug. “If he’s a true Pantera male he won’t have a problem with that.”
She gave him a warning glare before hurrying to the door. As she opened it, she felt him come up behind her. Damned puma. Damned mother hen.
Standing on the porch in a pair of black jeans and a white dress shirt, looking far handsomer than she’d ever seen him, Hiss grinned at her. “Wow.”
Mal grinned back. “Hey, Hiss.”
His gray eyes moved over her. “You look beautiful, Hunter.”
“Yes, she does,” Xavier said, moving out from behind to stand beside her.
Mal rolled her eyes. “You know Xavier.”
Hiss tore his gaze from Mal and acknowledged Xavier with a nod. “How’s it going, X?”
“Great. You?”
“Fantastic. You going to the festival?”
Mal answered before Xavier had a chance. “No. He has to work.”
Shrugging, grinning, Hiss said, “Too bad,” then turned back to Mal. “Ready? Because that moon is turning violet as we stand here.”
She nodded, then stepped out onto the porch. “Have a nice night, Xavier.”
As they walked down the path, Mal glanced back over her shoulder. She probably shouldn’t have, but as usual she couldn’t stop herself when it came to looking at the gorgeous Geek. Her heart trembled with what she saw. Cast in the dark lavender light of the Pantera moon, Xavier looked severe and sexy. And ominous. And hungry. He was standing in the doorway, his massive frame barely allowing the light inside the house to peek through, his piercing blue eyes trained on her. Vehemence fairly radiated from him. As she turned and headed for town with Hiss, she prayed that envy was the emotion that sparked that look. And if it was, that Xavier might finally do something about it.
* * *
He was an idiot.
But it couldn’t be helped.
The air circulating within the Wildlands was ripe and heady with
the scent of purple water lily. A strange, yet addictive aroma. The Pantera’s birth lily—the first flower to grow on their new land back when Opela created them—was purported to have a magical property that infused the Pantera in happiness, warmth and, for those who were mated or wished to be, a sensual euphoria.
Fine for most, Xavier mused, heading down the shop-lined street toward the center of town. But not the type of magic he wanted his wild little kitten exposed to.
Not unsupervised at any rate.
After she’d left, side by side with the Hunter, Xavier had gotten a call from Robby. The Geek had found a couple of interesting instant messages on Isi’s store computer. At first, they’d reminded Xavier of poetry. But after several listens, he’d recognized the strange collection of words as protection spells, and had given Robby the go-ahead to follow that IM trail.
I should be working the keyboard too, he thought darkly. Not tracking and spying. Hanging out in the shadows of one of the town’s many produce stands, scanning the Pantera’s merriment for Amalie, making sure she acted sane—and that her Hunter male escort acted like a gentleman.
Deep in the shadows of the empty stand, Xavier let his gaze travel over the square. Given the limited amount of prep time, the Pantera had created quite a spectacle. Purple and lavender flowers and ribbons were everywhere, on tables, strung from tree to tree. In one corner, a Cajun band—five Suits who had played last year—was kicking up some fine, foot-stomping music. And warring with the scent of water lily, some of the species’ best cooks were working over open flames, creating culinary magic and sending it out to the masses who were at tables, both long and intimate, around the wood floor that had been laid out for dancing. As usual, the food was being served family-style, passed around from table to table. Xavier’s belly growled as he scented rich gumbos and crawfish, meat pies, vegetables, bread pudding and fruit. When he spotted his favorite, alligator sausage, he nearly howled.
But it was the sound of laughter—a female’s laughter—over the din that made that sound truly exit his lips.
His eyes scanned the square, the diners, dancers, even a small group of shifted Pantera, who were sport fighting a yard or two away from the band. Where are you, Female? I hear your laughter. He didn’t like that the male Hunter had caused such a reaction in her—had caused that beautiful face to break into the most infectious fucking smile in the world. No one should be making her laugh. No one, but—
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