Leap of the Lion

by Cherise Sinclair

  If the Scythe discovered more shifters existed, they’d search the forests. Would find Cold Creek.

  As fear pierced her chest, she pulled in a shuddering breath. Right now, the Scythe couldn’t track her and probably didn’t realize others had helped her escape. They’d think Darcy had attacked the hunters since a human couldn’t tell one cougar from another in the dark. A vehicle had driven away, but she might have been the driver. When doing the Scythe vehicle maintenance, she’d learned to drive—although only on the property. But her driving out of the park wouldn’t be impossible.

  Right now, the Scythe didn’t know if more shifters existed. A concerted rescue of the Dogwood females and shifter-soldiers would reveal the truth.

  “Darcy,” Bree said softly. “I’m sorry. Did you hope Calum could send shifters into Seattle?”

  Darcy nodded. “I wasn’t thinking of anything but freeing my friends and littermates. I hadn’t thought of the consequences.”

  “Of course not.” As Bree rose, she leaned over to squeeze Darcy’s hand. “Owen should be back any minute, and I’m making BLTs for his lunch. Do you have room for a bit more to eat?”

  “No, thank you.” Darcy managed to smile. “It was great, though.”

  After putting bacon on to fry, Bree sliced some bread and started to put it into the toaster. With an exasperated huff, she laid the bread in the oven and turned on the broiler.

  “Um, Bree? Why don’t you use the toaster?”

  “The stupid thing broke yesterday. It burns everything I put in it.”

  Darcy’s spirits lifted. “If you have some tools, I can take a look at it. I’m pretty good at fixing things.”

  “That’d be wonderful.” Bree disappeared and returned with a small tool caddy. “This is the house set.”

  As Bree returned to cooking, Darcy started working on the toaster and felt more…settled. The prìosan had regimented every moment of her day. Here, she had no idea what would happen next. What was she supposed to do today? Tomorrow? The uncertainty left her off-balance.

  At least for the next few minutes, she had a job. “Do Owen and Gawain live here?”

  “No, Owen has a place way up in the mountains, someplace not even accessible by road. But after a hellhound broke his wrist a couple of weeks ago, he kept reinjuring it. Calum ordered him to stay here until he healed up.”

  “Oh, right. I kind of remember hearing that.” Owen would be here for a few days…and the relief she felt was confusing. The male was a grumpy cougar who disliked her. Why in the Mother’s world should she feel better with him around?

  Darcy frowned. “Doesn’t Gawain live with Owen?” Littermates usually lived together.

  “Huh-uh. Gawain lived down in Oregon, but he’s moving to Cold Creek. He’ll be staying in the lodge while he house-hunts.”

  Both of them were here. Darcy opened the bottom of the toaster. “Gawain seems really nice, and I owe Owen a lot for getting me out of Seattle.” Darcy huffed a laugh. “Although, when I tried to thank him, he—”

  “He probably glared at you, right?”

  “In a way.” Darcy examined the toaster interior and found pieces of bread stuck to the heating coils. No wonder it wasn’t working. “He kind of just walked away.”

  Bree rolled her eyes. “The idiot. When it comes to interacting with females, he’s got the disposition of a boggart.”

  “Oh.” Maybe Darcy wasn’t the only person who raised his hackles.

  “Owen scared me some when I first met him. He stared at me like he thought I’d steal his wallet, although I think he likes me well enough now.” Bree rolled her eyes. “You know, with other males, he’s a whole different cat—relaxed and fun.”

  Had Darcy ever seen him look relaxed? “That would be different. But I do know how brave he is.” And she’d put up with a lot from the shifter who’d saved her from the Scythe.

  However, she might smack him on the nose if he got too grumpy.

  *

  As Owen strolled past the Wild Hunt Tavern parking lot, he noticed the young redheaded female he’d mated with at the last Gathering. She and her two loud friends were leaving, having probably gone for a trail run. The tavern’s underground cave system extended into the forest and provided a safe entry for town-dwelling shifters.

  After goodbyes, the noisy friends got into a car, and the redhead crossed the lot to hers.

  Owen scratched his jaw and then raised his hand to attract her attention.

  She flinched.

  By the God, he wasn’t planning to claw her. Walking over, he tried to arrange his expression into something that wasn’t a scowl. It would help if he could remember her name. In all reality, he doubted he’d even asked.

  Wait, hadn’t Calum called her Nia?

  Showing courage, no matter how foolhardy, she lifted her chin. “Owen. Is there something I can do for you?”

  Perhaps not behave as if I bit off your tail. He found a better response. “Yes. Accept my apology for my rudeness the other day. Please.”

  Her mouth dropped open, and she looked even more immature.

  From now on, he’d confine his matings to shifters closer to his age or older. Older would be good. No one under forty-two, at least. “Nia?”

  “Why were you so nasty anyway? All I said was I thought you were nice and you liked me.”

  So. Fucking. Young. But he owed her the truth. “The way females talk about the God-called pisses me off. It’s all about hunting status and money—not a male to care for. You think cahirs and healers are all just prey.”

  She blinked. “Oh.”

  Right. Oh. “But I regret having taken a swipe at you.”

  “Forgiven.”

  “Thank you.” He took a step back.

  “Did you realize you act like the females you just criticized? It seems as if you lump all females into one group and think we’re all equally awful.”

  The expression on his face must have changed since she took a hasty step back.

  Pulling a breath through his nose, he gave her a short nod and stalked away. By Herne’s giant balls, he disliked the young ones.

  Especially when they dispensed a Mother’s wisdom.

  *

  The morning had been frustrating, and as Gawain walked into the lodge, he sincerely hoped the afternoon would improve. Changing towns and territories was more involved than he’d anticipated.

  Still, no matter the effort, it would be a joy to live close to his brother and sister. For over twenty years, he’d kept his bargain with their mother—as long as he remained in Pine Knoll, she’d leave Bonnie alone. But last summer, he’d discovered his sister had mated two sturdy males who would never allow their manipulative, abusive mother to upset her.

  Gawain pulled in a long breath. Finally, he was free. With any luck, their mother would never learn his location.

  He could make a new life here.

  Hearing his brother talking with Breanne in the kitchen, Gawain went in search of the female they were supposed to mentor.

  On the flagstone-paved patio, Darcy was settled at one of the redwood tables. Barefooted, she wore jeans and an over-large T-shirt that said Seahawks. The bright October sun teased blue glints from her raven-colored hair.

  She was watching the gurgling creek, and the look of peace on her face made him smile.

  Seeing him approach, she smiled back. “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, pretty cat.” He ran his hand down her thick, wavy hair. Soft.

  She jumped, then relaxed. It was interesting how her expression changed to both a cat’s pleasure at being stroked…and wariness.

  Giving her space, he turned away to check out the stream. Long, finned shapes glinted under the water, swirling and leaping in a happy game of tag. Undines, hmm? With long, sleekly scaled bodies and silvery hair, the water elementals were even more mischievous than pixies.

  He’d definitely keep his dangling bits out of that section of the creek.

  Sensing him, one undine se
nt water arcing toward the patio.

  Darcy had a beautifully husky laugh. “They didn’t do that before. I think they’re trying to get your attention.”

  “Probably. They’re more children of the Mother than the Hunter—and She is strong within me.” He settled into a chair and stretched out his legs with an exhausted sigh. “I think I walked every street in Cold Creek this morning.”

  “For exercise or another reason?”

  “I’m house-hunting. Calum gave me permission to move here and—”

  “Permission?” Her delicate dark brows drew together. “Does a shifter need permission from the Cosantir to move into a territory?”

  “Most shifters, no. For the God-called, it is courteous to check first.” When she still looked confused, he elaborated. “For example, it would be wasteful to have three healers in one territory if other territories had none.”

  “Oh. Right.” As she studied him silently, he did the same.

  Her eyes were such a dark brown even the sun didn’t lighten them…and the pain of her years of captivity lay in the shadows.

  She tilted her head. “The scar on your cheekbone. It’s different than Owen’s.”

  He touched the silvery-tinted scar of a blade encircled by a full moon. “Aye. Mine is for a blademage.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what a blademage does.”

  “Never met one of us, eh?” He smiled. “Your mama wasn’t lifemated?”

  “No, she said she’d never met any male she loved enough. My littermates and I were”—her eyes narrowed—“Gather-bred. Is that the word?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ve forgotten so much.” She made an adorably exasperated sound. “For the first years of captivity, I tried—we all did—to remember everything about being Daonain. But thinking of the outside made the walls higher. So I tried, instead, to forget and live in each day with no future and no past.”

  Amazed at her strength, he took her small hand in his. “I can’t imagine being imprisoned, especially in a city. I think I’d go mad.” He stroked his thumb over her palm, finding scars and calluses. She’d had a rough life.

  “A couple of the females did go crazy.” Her eyes darkened before she straightened her shoulders and pulled her hand away. “So, Gather-bred is correct?” Efficient as a housekeeping brownie, she tidily brushed away the messy emotions.

  “Gather-bred means conceived during the full moon Gathering, so aye, you have used the word correctly. My siblings and I were Gather-bred as well.” His jaw clenched. Four children, four different sires. And their mother had treated each child differently because of those sires. “Among other things, blademages make lifemating bracelets, which are a symbol of love. If the Mother approves of the match, she blesses the bracelets.” Now he and Owen were reunited, maybe…someday…they could find a lifemate.

  Darcy wrapped her hands around her coffee mug. “I used to daydream about finding my mates.”

  “Used to?”

  The sadness in her laugh was heartbreaking. Again, she brushed away the emotions. “Have you been a blademage long? Do you meet lots of shifters who are lifemates?”

  “I’ve been a smith since the age of sixteen and was called to serve the Goddess a few years later.” He frowned as the years turned into decades. “I’ve met many, many lifemates.”

  “Then you’d probably know… I’ve always wondered if people fall in love instantly, or is it a process that takes time?” Her eyes were alight with interest.

  “A few do fall in love upon meeting.” He stroked his beard as he thought. “Perhaps they were mates in a previous lifetime and simply recognized each other.”

  “Oooh,” she sighed. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

  For a moment, he could see the starry-eyed cubling she would have been. All feelings and passion. But now the little female kept her emotions under careful control, and his heart hurt for the change. “After most shifters meet, there seems to be an adjustment period. Their beliefs and habits change in tiny ways until everything matches seamlessly.”

  “Change?”

  He smiled. “It always reminds me of how I create a knife shaft for a blade. I’ll adjust the size, working at it little by little, until the haft slides into the wood for a perfect fit.”

  Someday, he and Owen would find their perfect fit.

  *

  “Thank you, Breanne. You’re going to ruin me for stalking my own food.” As the pretty blonde chef laughed, Owen swallowed the last of the bacon-lettuce-tomato sandwich and headed out of the kitchen.

  Through the dining room windows, he spotted his brother and Darcy on the patio. Sunning sounded good, but he’d have to converse with a female and… He winced, remembering Nia’s accusation. “…you lump all females into a group and think we’re all equally awful.” By the God, he’d become the kind of a person he abhorred. The realization was as painful as a reprimanding swat from the grizzly cahir, Ben.

  True, his childhood had given him reasons to avoid females, yet not all were like his mother or the ones who chased after the God-called merely for status.

  Time to change his ways. To observe each female with the clear eyes of a hawk rather than a snake’s vision, which would note only moving prey. And he needed to learn to be polite.

  He walked over and set his hand on Gawain’s shoulder, smiling as his blood and muscles recognized the soul that had shared his mother’s womb. “Are you two ready to go for a run?”

  “A run?” Darcy’s expression was that of a cub considering how far to venture from the den. Anticipation, excitement, anxiety. “I guess?”

  When Gawain laughed, she smiled ruefully. “I thought I was supposed to stay put and heal.”

  “Shifting helps the healing process, since the magic gives everything a lift,” Gawain told her.

  Owen nodded. “Since you’ve had problems with shifting, it’s best if not much time passes between trawsfurs.”

  “Oh.”

  When Gawain took her hand, she startled, then let him pull her to her feet.

  Gawain kept her hand in his, and Owen noticed she didn’t tug away. His littermate had apparently exerted his charm.

  “We can use the side door here since the exit was designed for shifters.” Owen led them inside. His healed wrist could use the magical boost, and he’d make sure he and Darcy took it easy today.

  Down the back hallway, the door at the end was marked Private. Owen punched in the code for the door lock, which had been added after a cub used the door. In the tiny changing room, he and Gawain started stripping.

  Darcy’s face lost the soft flush of color. “Um. You two go on ahead.”

  Females. Didn’t they… Catching himself running the familiar trail of disparagement, Owen skidded to a stop. Altering his ways might be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

  “Gawain and I have seen hundreds of females without clothing.” He tried on a smile. “You all have the same parts. Today, you will be shifting several times as you learn how to survive in the wild. This is your first lesson: Lose the embarrassment.”

  She’d listened, nodded, but at his final words, an irritated red swept into her face. “Fine.” The sideways slant of her mouth held the same warning as the lashing tail of an irritated cougar.

  Ah-huh. Like his mother, her words said one thing and her body language another. Was any female honest?

  “Although my brother has the manners of a drunken dwarf, he’s correct, catling.” Gawain took her hand again. “You don’t live with humans any longer. It’s time to learn shifter ways.”

  Her jaw relaxed. “You’re right. I’m sorry for holding up the lessons.” Without further ado, she stripped quickly, folded her clothing, and set everything on the shelf next to Gawain’s pile.

  She apologized? Owen watched her simply getting on with the task at hand…and it took him a minute to recover.

  Owen was watching her with dark green eyes sharper than any emerald, and Darcy felt like a mouse facing a hawk. Becau
se she was naked.

  He was naked. Gawain was naked. Feeling the heat in her face, she stared at the floor.

  Feet appeared in her field of vision, and she jerked her head up. Owen stood in front of her. When his hand came up, she flinched. Just a little. Hardly at all.

  But more than enough for the observant cahir. “I’m not going to hit you, female,” he growled. “No male would hit a female.”

  She snorted, thinking of the beatings and canings she’d endured.

  Gawain cleared his throat. “Unlike with humans, it’s extremely rare for a shifter male to hurt a female. The shifter would have to be crazy.”

  “We did have a crazy one, once,” Owen muttered. “When Calum found out, he sent the male straight back to the Mother.”

  Back to the Mother. Calum had killed a shifter? For hitting a female?

  Owen set his fingers against her ribs over the healed bullet gouge and pressed. “Does this still hurt?”

  “No, it’s good.”

  He went down on one knee and curled powerful fingers around her right calf, just below the healed bullet wound. His hand was warm—but when she tried to move away, his grip tightened to steel.

  She stared down at him.

  The cahir’s shoulders and arms were so powerful and ripped; she could see each striation of the muscles. He was sleekly lethal and yet strong. Not a lightweight sports car, but a streamlined SUV, capable of…anything.

  Gawain pulled her attention away as he walked around her to unlatch the door. He was even more muscled than Owen. Probably not as fast, but she’d bet he’d plow through any obstacle like a military tank.

  The two of them were a bit scary.

  Owen traced a finger around the pink area on her calf and told Gawain, “It’s healing, but we’ll have to keep this lesson short.”

  “Aye.” Gawain’s voice sounded…odd. Dark and angry.

  Darcy looked over her shoulder.

  As Gawain stared at her back and shoulders, his every exhalation held a growl.