Feral warrior 4- Rapture Untamed

by Pamela Palmer

  The Daemon slashed out again, but Jag ducked and drove his knife up into the bastard’s chest, meeting nothing but floating cloaklike flesh. The bastard was as insubstantial as a draden.

  “Where’s his heart?” Tighe shouted, but Jag could barely hear him above the woman’s screams.

  “Hell if I know.” A thick, creeping sensation crawled across Jag’s flesh. Magic. “Do you feel that?”

  “Yeah.”

  Jag’s gaze shot to Olivia as her head lifted, her chest rising as if she were taking a deep, cleansing breath. Beneath his feet, the ground began to tremble.

  The Daemon swung. Tighe ducked and stabbed up into his chest, but nothing seemed to slow the evil sucker. As Jag lunged for the Daemon’s head, the bastard went for Jag’s face. In a desperate move, Jag shifted his attack, swinging his blade down hard and fast, cutting off the Daemon’s clawed hand. Yes!

  The creature screamed, an earsplitting cry, and shot up into the air, out of reach.

  The ground gave another hard tremble as the feel of raw magic grew stronger.

  “Pull back!” Lyon yelled. “Out of the circle. Now!”

  Jag followed command, realizing belatedly that Tighe wasn’t with him. He turned to find him racing toward Hawke.

  One of the Daemons had his claws sunk deep in Hawke’s shoulder, holding him fast, even as the shifter stabbed him high with a fierce and focused determination.

  “It’s in his throat,” Hawke shouted, his tone triumphant despite his predicament. “His heart’s literally in his throat!”

  Jag started forward, intending to help Tighe free Hawke, when he felt it—the telltale stabbing sensation along the surface of his skin. Olivia.

  “She’s feeding!” Hard. Jag turned and ran for her, his own heart suddenly in his throat. Was she still enthralled, or had she been turned? His mind shouted in denial. She had not been turned! Please, Goddess. At least she wasn’t terribly close to them. She wouldn’t drain them quickly, not with over a dozen lives to feed from. But she would drain them. And if he didn’t stop her, she’d eventually kill them all.

  “Out of the circle!” Lyon’s voice rang out harsh and desperate. Lyon and Kougar were on the other side, outside the circle’s perimeter, but still battling one of the Daemons.

  Within the circle, just ahead, Paenther struggled to help Wulfe, one of whose legs had been ripped to shreds.

  The ground gave another rumbling roar.

  “Out of the damned circle!”

  Jag changed course and ran for the pair of Ferals, grabbing Wulfe’s other arm as Paenther tried to clear him from the field. Glancing back, Jag saw Tighe and Hawke still battling. As he watched, the Daemon exploded in a blast of noxious black smoke.

  “Got him!” The words were barely out of Jag’s mouth when a bloodcurdling, inhuman scream tore from the Earth itself. The sky turned suddenly dark, pitch-black, as if the last angel had turned off the lights of heaven.

  “Dive!” Lyon yelled.

  As one, Jag and Paenther leaped clear of the circle, hauling Wulfe with them as an unearthly red-orange glow erupted behind them. Jag spun, staring as the ground wrenched open, becoming a swirling, spinning vortex that ended mere feet from the outer posts. Mere feet from where he stood.

  Olivia remained, as did the other captives on the outer posts, but the three center stakes and their victims were gone, having disappeared into the hole.

  His heart seized.

  As had Hawke and Tighe. Only the two Daemons remained, hovering over the hell pit.

  “No!”

  “Wings!” Lyon shouted. “Stripes!

  Wulfe’s hand landed on Jag’s shoulder, hard, his voice disbelieving. “They’re gone.”

  Jag’s heart rolled, his jaw clenching against the sudden and wrenching anguish as he stood stone-still beneath the weight of shock. Until the two Daemons turned and began floating toward them.

  “Roar!” Paenther shouted beside him, pointing at the old building.

  Jag shifted his gaze to stare at the dozen armed Mage sentinels streaming across the yard, swords drawn.

  And Jag could still feel Olivia feeding.

  “Hell,” Paenther growled. “They want us all in there.”

  “That’s exactly what they want,” Wulfe muttered.

  “I have to get to Olivia.” Jag started running.

  Across the circle, Lyon shifted back into his animal. An instant later, his voice blazed in Jag’s head.

  We are not defeated! No more Ferals will be lost this night. Jag, it’s up to you. Stop Olivia!

  Jag ran, his chest filled with gravel, his mind aching. Tighe and Hawke were gone. Olivia was attacking them, almost certainly turned. He would have to destroy her.

  No. He didn’t know that. For this moment, this moment, all he had to do was reach her. But six feet from her, he hit another damned invisible wall. Warding of the thick-as-steel variety. And he knew he couldn’t do even that.

  “Liv!”

  Olivia turned her head, finding him slowly with glazed eyes that were neither enthralled nor turned. But his heart’s moment of rejoicing died as he took in the true look in those precious eyes—horror and misery.

  “Jag.” Her voice barely carried over the scream of the vortex. “I’m fighting it, Jag, but I can’t stop feeding! The Mage have put a spell on me. You have to stop me!”

  Ah, goddess. Not like this. She wasn’t turned. Wasn’t even doing it on purpose. It dawned on him the sharp discomfort of her hard feeding had dimmed considerably. Now that she’d shaken off the enthrallment and regained consciousness she was fighting it. But she was still strong and would eventually drain them dead, even with the addition of the sentinels to dilute what she stole from any one person.

  He had no choice but to stop her.

  Shifting into his jaguar, he leaped toward Olivia, half-prepared to slam into the wall again. But this time, he reached her as if there were no barrier at all. At her feet, he shifted back into a man.

  Olivia’s frantic gaze met his. “Rip out my heart, Jag. This won’t end until you do.”

  “No. There’s got to be another way.”

  “There isn’t! Mystery hooked me up to those orbs, stripping me of my control, making me feed on the combined energies of the Daemons, Mage, Therians, and humans, funneling the combined energies into the orbs. There’s something about the combination that’s especially potent. That’s what’s powering the vortex. And they want all the Ferals in it. Jag! Behind you!”

  He whirled just as one of the Mage leaped at him, unhampered by the barrier..

  “Liv, fight it!” he shouted as he and the Mage went tumbling to the hard ground in a tangle of knives and limbs, rolling straight for the vortex. Did his attacker care nothing for his own life? No, probably not. The soulless bastard’s only goal was to send Jag into that swirling hell.

  Jag dug his knife deep into the ground and held on, stopping his momentum cold, then whipped his body around, kicking the Mage free of him and into the swirling mass. His own foot brushed that rushing energy, snagging him and trying to pull him in, but he held on tight.

  Dragging himself free, he leaped to his feet and grabbed up his knife as two more Mage came at him, each with blank, emotionless eyes. Eyes filled with death. His death.

  He shifted into his animal and leaped at the nearest man, ripping his throat out with his jaguar’s ferocious jaws. As his mouth filled with blood, he felt the fiery pain of a knife stabbing deeply into his hindquarters. With a furious growl, he turned and lunged at his second attacker, biting off his hand. In an instant, he shifted back into his human form, grabbed his now one-handed attacker by his good arm, and threw him into the waiting vortex. Without hesitation, he kicked the Mage whose throat he’d just ripped out in, too, before he could recover.

  Bending double, hands on his knees, he sucked in air with shallow, rapid breaths. Not only did he feel winded, but his hip was killing him, and his shoulder throbbed, numb and achy. Olivia’s feeding was starting to ge
t to him. The more lives there were for her to feed from, the less she took from any one. But he wasn’t the only one dispatching Mage right and left.

  And he was too close to her.

  The Earth had set up an ungodly howl, melding her fury with the screaming of the vortex until he could barely hear himself think.

  His gaze sought out his brothers. They were all moving with less speed, less animal grace than normal. They were all tiring. As he watched, one of the humans fell unconscious. But, dammit, the Mage weren’t affected by her feeding at all. They weren’t out there long enough. In twos and threes, they ran back to the brick building as reinforcements took their places.

  One of the Daemons floated over the vortex where the Ferals couldn’t reach him, then flew in to slice a chunk out of one of the human male’s faces. His scream melded with that of the Earth’s as the blood gushed from the wound.

  Goddess, they had to find a way to kill these things. If only the Daemons would grow weak from Olivia’s feeding instead of the humans and Ferals.

  A second black cloud erupted on the far side of the vortex between Lyon and Kougar. Another Daemon down.

  Jag straightened, struggling against the growing weakness just as another Mage came at him, a knife in each hand. He was so through with this shit. As the Mage dove at him, Jag ducked and rolled, using the sentinel’s own momentum to send him flying into the glowing hell pit.

  For the moment he was free of Mage attackers. He had to stop Olivia, though goddess, he wanted to do anything but that. He ran back to her, tried to get through the warding, and was knocked back yet again. The only way he could get through the damned wards was in animal form, but the shifting was draining him as fast as Olivia was.

  No choice.

  He shifted back into his cat, grabbed his knife in his mouth, and ran through the barrier, then dropped it at her feet and slowly turned back into a man.

  “Jag. Quit being sentimental! You must rip out my heart.”

  He cupped her face in one hand, feeling a sudden, hard jolt as he took all her feeding onto himself. “Sentimental, am I? I’d as soon rip out my own heart, Liv.”

  “Let go! I’m feeding only from you!”

  His hand dropped away, but he stared into her eyes. “I love you.”

  Tears sprang to her own. “Jag, just do it. Don’t make this any harder than it already is.”

  “I know.” Before she weakened him to the point he couldn’t lift the knife, he had to kill her. “Goddess, Olivia, how am I supposed to live without you? You’ve given me back my life. My heart.” And now she would rip them both from him again when she died.

  At his own hand.

  He was a Feral first. And if he didn’t stop her, and soon, they would all die. But he wasn’t giving up without one more try.

  Olivia closed her eyes, bracing herself for the death that had to come. The thought of what this would do to Jag tore her heart out of her chest even before his knife touched her. He thought he loved her. Oh, Jag.

  But instead of the bite of cold steel, she felt his hand once more cup her cheek.

  Her eyes flew open. “What are you doing?”

  His tired gaze bored into hers, a flash of devilment in their dark depths. “You turning into a quitter, Red?”

  Her temper snapped. “I’m fighting it as hard as I can!” But she saw what he was doing. Making her mad. Giving her the strength to fight harder. “You want me to kick your ass, Feral?”

  His mouth tightened, but his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Give me all you’ve got, Liv. Don’t you dare give up. We’re going to stop it. Together. The damned Mage are not going to win.”

  “Jag, I’m out of ideas.”

  He dropped his hands, but stared at her with eyes lit by a fierce determination. “Can you feel the lives individually like you did when you fed from the draden last night?”

  “Yes, but not as well. And I can’t control the feeding. I’ve tried!”

  “What about the reverse feed? When you fed me?”

  She stared at him, her mouth dropping open. “I forgot. I didn’t think…” With a sudden, desperate hope, she found his life force, closed her eyes and willed herself to feed him. Nothing happened. She was too locked into the feeding to reverse it.

  Her eyes flew open. “It’s not working!”

  He swayed.

  “Jag, you’ve got to get away from me. You’re too close!”

  With a hand, he waved her words away, but his motion was slow and lethargic. “Liv, concentrate.” He slapped his hand awkwardly, as if he were drunk. “Inside me, I feel you. In my mind…I see this glow, this light, and I know it’s you. It’s the start of a mating bond.”

  His gaze bored into hers, at once achingly soft and hard as granite. “I don’t know if you’ll ever feel it. Goddess knows, I’ve never given you any reason to love me. But try, Liv. Right this moment, try to love me. Try to find that bond, then reach me through it.”

  “Jag, you’re endangering all of your lives. I know how hard it’s going to be on you, but you have to stop me. You can’t feel guilty for it.”

  “I’m not trying to save you because I feel guilty. I’m trying to save you because I love you.” His gaze snapped, as did his words. “Find that link, Olivia, now! For both of us.” His eyes blazed with an emotion that burrowed deep inside her, lighting all the dark places, filling her with an incredible warmth, and igniting a matching emotion within her.

  Love. It blazed within her, shoring up the crumbled mass of her heart. And deep in her mind, a light flared. A glow. A glow she knew was Jag.

  Yes, she loved him. Goddess, she loved him.

  With the gentlest of touches, his fingers whispered over her cheek. “I’ll never survive without my heart.” The anguish in his eyes tore her in two. He stumbled back, then forward again. “I’m losing it, Liv. I can’t wait any longer.” He bent down and rose again, slowly, a knife in his hand.

  When he looked up at her, tears filled his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  As her heart broke, love for him rushed up from the depths of her soul, filling her chest, her mind.

  Jag lifted the knife as if it weighed half a ton, positioning the tip just beneath her rib cage.

  That soft glow inside her mind burst into a flaming inferno as she poured her love into it. Into Jag. And something happened. With a shock, she realized she wasn’t only pouring her love into him, but her life force as well. She was feeding him!

  “Jag.”

  The knife dropped. His head lifted slowly, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re doing it. I’m already feeling stronger.”

  “Yes.” Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  He grabbed her face and kissed her hard, then pulled back and swiped the moisture from his own cheeks, his eyes blazing with love and triumph. “I knew you could do it.” He kept hold of her, once more letting her feed only from him. “If you can still see the individual life forces, can you help the others?”

  She peered past him to what little of the battle his big body didn’t block. Lyon had lost an arm and was battling two Mage at once. Neither Wulfe nor Kougar looked to be in any better shape. They were fighting back to back, seven Mage surrounding them.

  She focused on them and Paenther, sending energy directly to them with ease.

  “It’s working!” She met his gaze with a grin. “Now let go of me and let me feed from everyone. I’ll weaken the Daemon and the Mage, but feed your men.”

  “And the humans.”

  She nodded. “And the humans.”

  Jag gave her another hard, fast kiss. “I need to untie you.”

  “No. I’m connected to those orbs. If you untie me, there’s no telling what will happen. Leave me here. Rejoin the battle, Jag. Your men need you, now.”

  “How do I disengage you from the orbs?” Already, his voice sounded back to normal strength.

  “Destroy them. It’s the only way.”

  “I’m on it.” With a grin that was at once fierce and breathtaking wi
th sheer joy, he turned from her and grabbed up several knives that had slipped from now-dead hands. Standing at the edge of the glowing vortex, he threw the knives at the orbs, one after the other, but they hit and bounced off, knife after knife falling into the screaming void.

  As he took off at a run toward the battle, she thought she heard him say, “Where are Delaney and her guns when we need them?”

  Olivia’s heart followed him, and she poured love and strength through that budding bond between them, willing him to stay safe. Helping him the only way she could as he fought to claim victory and save them all.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The other Ferals had the Mage down to a manageable seven by the time Jag reached them. The winds howled, nature’s fury a living thing as lightning slashed from the sky, the bolts glowing as red as the vortex. And as if that weren’t enough, the sky began to fling stinging pellets of rain.

  “Get the Daemon, Jag!” Lyon called.

  Jag lifted a hand in acknowledgment, his gaze zeroing in on the last of the three creatures as it floated across the pit, heading for another of the humans tied to posts ringing the swirling chasm. From what Jag was able to make out, two of the four bound humans were already dead or unconscious, though neither appeared to be badly injured. He wondered if Olivia’s feeding had saved them from a worse fate.

  Of the two who remained conscious, one was missing half his face and clearly danced with death. It was the other, a female with only a single, shallow slash across her cheekbone that the Daemon headed toward now. The female watched the Daemon’s approach with terror in her eyes, but no screams. Humans didn’t see the fiends until they’d been cut by one, and thanks to the wound on her cheek, this human had already had her eyes opened. Her expression said she saw the monster who toyed with her, a monster who promised a terrifying, painful death.

  Jag skirted the vortex to intercept that pain-feeding bastard, the rain starting to come down hard. As the Daemon approached his human target, Jag eased behind the tied female, waiting for the creature to clear the vortex before he took him on. Above the Daemon, the orbs spit and glowed.