by Amy Sumida
A deep rumble in the feline chest was his only answer and he took a step forward, lacking patience. He wanted answers, dammit. A large paw with claws unsheathed flashed out, quick as lightening, and had him cursing up a storm. He grabbed his forearm as blood began dripping in a steady stream onto the hardwood floor.
“Dammit, Vaughn!” Ronan yelled, rushing to him and covering the deep gashes with his own hand, “Will you show some common sense please? She’s terrified. I don’t know what the hell is going on here but you should know better than to pressure a predator.”
“Fuck,” he swore again. He did know better, but he was so damn befuddled right now. Disbelief was warring with hope and it was making him testy, “How would you like to proceed, oh wise one?” his voice was laced with sarcasm – his automatic defence mechanism – and he saw Ronan’s eyes narrow dangerously. So, Ronan wasn’t as unaffected by everything as he appeared. The knowledge had him relaxing his stance a bit and taking a deep breath.
“Don’t be an arse,” Ronan snapped back.
“Can’t seem to help it,” he admitted.
“Don’t I know it,” Ronan muttered, “We need to proceed with caution.”
“Be my guest,” he gestured to the hissing, spitting creature in the corner.
Ronan glared at him once more before lifting his hand off the scratches. The bleeding had slowed and they were already healing. Familiars healed fast. It was one of the perks of sharing your spirit with an animal, “Just let me think a minute,” his lover groused, clearly displeased with the whole situation.
“We need to talk to her cat.”
Vaughn startled a little as he and Ronan spun to face Seth who was eyeing the beautiful white creature with appreciation, “What?”
“We need to talk to her animal,” he repeated, “Our panthers are all instinct, right? It’s us humans who are all logic. So, it’s her human half that’s fighting us. We have our own panthers – have you bothered to listen to what yours is telling you?” Seth asked, crossing his arms over his naked chest.
“What the hell are you talking about, Seth?” Vaughn was not in the mood for Seth’s stupid antics.
Seth rolled his eyes but walked over to him. He unsheathed a claw and ran it down the centre of Vaughn’s chest, purring at the same time. Vaughn’s panther never failed to react to one of the members in its shadow. Not only did he always recognise the panthers as fellow familiars, but Vaughn’s panther thought of them as mates. Despite the tense situation, his furry spirit reacted predictably to Seth’s seductive feline and rose up, scenting its male mates. But to Vaughn’s shock, it also scented another mate – one that could breed. His jaw fell open, disbelieving eyes darting to the white panther.
“You feel it now?” Seth asked, stroking a soothing hand down his uninjured arm.
He could only nod mutely.
“Feel what?” Ronan demanded, obviously still very much in human mode.
“She’s our mate.”
Chapter Seventeen
“She’s our mate,” Seth stated, watching as Ronan also took a deep breath. His lover’s eyes widened comically and he turned back to them;
“How is this possible?” he asked.
Seth shrugged. He had no idea. He was the fresh soul here. They were the ones who had been around the block a few times. If anyone knew what the hell was going on, it should be one of them. Besides, quite frankly, he didn’t really care. All he cared about was soothing the female panther just metres away.
“Well, what do we do now?” Ronan asked, looking completely bewildered still.
Seth shrugged again. Why were they asking him? “What do you want to do?” he offered.
“Honestly? I want to pin her to the ground, mount her, and sink my teeth into her.”
Ronan’s words had his dick springing back to life in a nano-second and a quick look revealed the same impact on Vaughn. They were all still standing around naked, not having taken the time to throw on clothes when Ivory had bolted.
Growling echoed throughout the room, and Seth saw Ronan’s words were not taken in quite the same way by the white panther. In fact, she had hunched down low, her shoulders bunching as if ready to pounce. And if he wasn’t mistaken, her eerily pretty violet eyes were trained intensely on the hard evidence of their desire. Quickly shielding his now deflated manhood with one cupped hand, he held his other up in surrender – or supplication.
“Probably not the wisest course of action at the moment, Ronan,” he spoke from the corner of his mouth, never taking his eyes from Ivory.
“Understatement of the year,” Vaughn commented, pushing Ronan in front of him as a human shield.
Ronan threw his partner a disgusted look at the cowardly, albeit smart, move, “How do we fix this?”
Seth didn’t think he had ever seen Ro looking so lost before. The man always had all the answers. Looking to his other lover, he found him in a similar state of confusion and unease. And they treated him like a child more often than not? Their reactions were understandable though, he guessed. They had served their coven faithfully for generations and he knew they had both given up hope on finding any remaining members. This must be a huge shock to their systems. On top of that, Ivory did indeed smell like mate. As far as Seth knew such a thing was unheard of.
Sure, both Vaughn and Ronan smelled like mates to him. But that was due to the fact they had been lovers for years and their animals had claimed each other as surely as their human halves had. Although a physical and mental attraction had been there from the moment he had met her, he had yet to form that same solid intimate bond with Ivory. So the fact that his panther was practically grinding its teeth in agitation to get to what it considered its female, suggested Ivory was their natural life-mate.
Figuring his two companions were going to be fairly useless – Vaughn had no patience and Ronan was spouting words like ‘mount’ – Seth determined he was going to have to talk the female off the ledge. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his muscles as much as possible, coaxing his panther to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t exactly difficult – the creature really did want to get to its mate. His transformation took mere seconds and he found himself staring down at fur and paws instead of skin and hands. He immediately opened his mouth, scenting the air, whiskers twitching as the delicious aroma of female assaulted senses which were far more sensitive now in this form.
Cautioning himself and his other half to take it easy, he remained low as he slowly crept across the space keeping them apart. Ivory still held herself tense and there was still a resounding rumble deep in her throat, but he could see her nose twitching. Her mouth opened a moment later and he knew she was scenting him as he had her. He only hoped he smelled as good to her cat as hers did to him.
When he was only about one metre away, he lowered himself to the floor and immediately rolled to his back, exposing his vulnerable, soft belly. The female cocked her head to the side, looking curious despite herself and Seth batted a sheathed claw playfully in the air. He heard Vaughn snort derisively at his antics – no doubt storing this away for future humiliation – but Seth didn’t care. His primary goal right now was to look as non-threatening as possible. It was kind of a hard task considering his panther was almost twice the size of her more feminine form. He allowed a purr to rumble in his chest as he relaxed his head onto the floor, green eyes beseeching purple ones.
Seconds ticked by agonizingly slowly but eventually the white cat closed the distance between them. Her white head reached out tentatively, nose twitching and eyes roaming, as she took in his form. One more step and she was within touching distance. Seth cautioned his animal not to move, knowing Ivory needed him to be the submissive in this scenario. She walked in a slow circle around him, sniffing every part of his body, before finally pushing her furred face against his neck almost affectionately. She continued to rub her cheek over his face and neck and he knew he would now be covered in her scent. Their scent glands were located in their cheeks and it was how they
marked their territory. His panther began purring, satisfied that the female considered him hers. As for Seth, his heart began thumping in relief and triumph. She recognised them now. She had to.
Hoping she was comfortable now, he shifted back to his human form, remaining seated on the floor. Ivory didn’t flinch away from him but nor did she shift back either. He decided to give her a bit more time and took the opportunity of being so close to study her. She was definitely a jaguar like them but she wasn’t pure white – not like he and the others were pure black. Her undercoat was white and her spots were a very pale grey. In the wild, such markings were extremely rare, he knew. But not rare enough they didn’t have a name – ghost jaguars. He had never seen a ghost jaguar – or white panther – shifter before. She was beautiful. Raising his hand, he was pleased when the animal allowed him to stroke the softness of her head. She purred, bumping her head against his hand and he smiled;
“You’re a very pretty jaguar, Ivory. Won’t you shift back now? We would never hurt you, I promise. Can’t you feel what your cat is feeling? Trust it. Trust us. Shift back for us so we can talk,” he crooned, stroking in long motions.
A shimmering displacement in the air accompanied her shift and soon enough, a gloriously naked Ivory crouched in front him. The dips and curves of the body were familiar to him but the face was not. This face held higher, sharper cheekbones, fuller lips, a pointier chin, and a straighter nose. Her eyes were a wild and unearthly shade of violet and her hair, once brown and shoulder length, was now pure white and kissing the curve of her bottom.
She was stunningly, outrageously beautiful.
His hand rose of its own accord, wanting nothing more than to touch and discover this new Ivory – the woman who was not only a witch from his coven but who was somehow also his mate. But apparently, she was still skittish and not willing to trust yet. She scrambled back on all fours before climbing gracefully to her feet. She raised her hands, palms out as if preparing them as weapons.
“There’s no need for that, Ivory. We won’t hurt you, you must know that. Just as you must know by now that your magic won’t work on us,” Vaughn’s voice was gruff from emotion, Seth knew. But the bluntness of his words, coupled with the rasp in his voice made him sound harsh. Ivory obviously thought so too because she flicked her hand in the direction of the heavy antique lamp in the corner of the room. Seth watched as it floated easily in the air.
“My magic may not work on you directly, but I’m betting this lamp sure will,” she cocked an eyebrow that was a shade darker than the hair on her head.
“We need you –” Vaughn began.
“Don’t! Don’t tell me what you need. I need you to tell me what the hell is going on here. Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you here?” she pelted them with questions and Seth could feel her anxiety levels rising once more, “Why does my magic recognise you? Why does my jaguar want you?”
“We’ll explain everything,” Ronan’s deep voice soothed, “But maybe we should all get dressed first, hmm?”
Ivory looked startled at that, looking around the room before glancing at her own naked body and blushing prettily. Her pale skin pinked easily and Seth couldn’t help wanting to see how rosy this new version of Ivory became in the heat of passion. She gestured with her hand and a heartbeat later, the fluffy robe from the back of the lounge was within her grasp. She shrugged it on quickly, tying the belt securely. Their little witch certainly had a handy primary power. He couldn’t wait to see what else she could do.
Chapter Eighteen
Ronan lectured himself sternly not to stare dumbly at the woman in front of him. A witch. Ivory was a witch. And not just any witch. She was a witch from the Panthera bloodline, the coven he had been serving for generations. The same coven they had been searching endlessly for over the years. And what’s more, she was a white panther – which should have been impossible. Witches didn’t shapeshift.
“Stop staring,” Ivory muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
“I can’t help it. Ivory, you are …” he couldn’t finish the sentence, unable to find the words to describe how utterly gorgeous she was. He had thought her quiet beauty absolutely stunning this past week, cursing himself numerous times for initially thinking of her as plain when he had first met her. The more he got to know her, the more her beauty came to the surface. He had grown to love looking into her chocolate eyes, their warmth shining brightly above the dusting of freckles on her nose. Her brown hair had always been silky soft and every time she moved he had been able to smell vanilla, rain, and earth. But this Ivory … this Ivory was otherworldly. It was taking all of his control not to reach out and touch the pale perfection of her hair to see if it was as silky as it looked. Her eyes looked like sparkling gems of amethyst. And don’t even get him started on those pouty lips of hers …
“Ronan!”
“Huh?” he jerked, seeing the amused smirks on the faces of his male lovers, and the exasperation on Ivory’s. He must have been staring at her like some kind of daft, sex-crazed lunatic for the past couple of minutes, “Sorry,” he muttered, commanding himself not to blush.
Ivory huffed and squirmed under their collective gazes, “Just stop staring and start talking.”
“Where do you want us to start?” he asked – there, see, he could articulate.
She huffed out an annoyed breath, “How about the part where you just happen to be familiars and I just happen to be a witch and I just happen to be being stalked and you just happen to be bodyguards for hire!” Ivory’s began speaking softly and slowly, but by the end of her tirade she was yelling and speaking so fast he could barely keep up with her. She panted, out of breath from her one long sentence.
“You know about familiars?” Seth asked, sounding surprised. Ronan couldn’t blame him. Ivory’s shocked and terrified reaction had him assuming she was somehow ignorant of their origins.
She eyed them all drolly, “I’m a witch. Of course I know what familiars are. That isn’t what I want to know. I want to know what you’re doing here.”
“Protecting you,” Vaughn pointed out, “What you hired us to do.”
She snorted rudely, “Bullshit! You really expect me to believe you had no idea I was a witch? That this is just some kind of insane coincidence? Coincidences are for morons,” she levelled her purple peepers at them, “And I’m no moron.”
Vaughn laughed but there was no humour in the sound, “Trust me, I’m not into coincidences either. Maybe you’re setting us up, hmm? Trying to catch yourself a familiar or two?”
Ivory sneered at him, “Why in the world would I want to catch a familiar? I’ve never been near one in my whole life.”
“Never? Why is that, exactly?” Ronan asked, keeping his voice mildly curious rather than the antagonist tone of Vaughn’s. The man was practically drowning in his terrified hope and it was making him defensive. Still, pushing Ivory was unlikely to get him the answers he desired, “Witches and familiars kind of go hand in hand.”
She shifted her gaze to him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, “Don’t try that good ‘ole country boy tone with me, Ronan. It won’t work. You lied to me – have been lying to me since the day we met.”
“We lied to you? Hypocrite much?” Vaughn snorted, running agitated fingers through his already dishevelled hair, “Your whole face was a lie!”
Ronan cringed at Vaughn’s tone – both accusatory but also laced with hurt. He really wished he would stop with the bad attitude, but it was his go-to mode whenever he was feeling vulnerable. Besides, Ronan could actually understand the hurt. He had been slowly and surely falling for the brunette barkeeper, and he knew the others had been too. To suddenly realise the face of the person they had spent the night making love with wasn’t even real ... he shook his head. Yeah, hurt was the right word. Ivory remained silent, not responding to Vaughn’s words. She had lost some of the stiffness in her shoulders but her face was still wary.
“Ivory, talk to us. Obviously we’ve stumbled onto
something a little more complicated than an average stalker case. You and Vaughn may not be fans of coincidences but I sure am. Anything that brought us to you is fine by me,” Seth grinned, open and eager, and Ronan saw Ivory relax just a little bit more.
Thank heavens for Seth, he thought.
“You’re all really bodyguards? You aren’t my stalker? Or witch hunters? This is just some random twist of fate?” she asked, wariness mixed with what he thought was hope.
“No. Ivory, I promise you – none of us are your stalker. And we sure aren’t hunters. We would never do anything to harm you. In fact, our whole purpose in life is to keep you safe – to keep you happy and healthy and cared for,” Seth rushed to assure her.
She seemed to be listening now at least, although the frown remained firmly in place, “What are you talking about? I know you are bodyguards, but that seems a little excessive.”
“Well ...” Seth elongated the word, looking at him and Vaughn for guidance. Vaughn simply shrugged, as for himself he motioned for Seth to keep going. Ivory was responding, that was all that mattered for now, “How much do you know about witches and familiars?” he asked.
Ivory looked wary again but answered; “Only what my mother told me; that familiars are like guides and companions to their witches.”
“She’s right, we are that but also so much more,” Ronan confirmed, before asking; “Where is she now?”
“She died twelve years ago,” she looked towards Vaughn, “I didn’t lie about not having any family. I’ve been on my own since I was eighteen.”
Vaughn’s green eyes had lost their defensive spark and he was now leaning forward out of interest rather than anger, “I’m sorry, Ivory. I don’t think you’re a liar. This is all just a shock.”
