Burning Wild
Page 31
His men converged from all sides, Drake, Conner and Joshua bursting through the crowd. Evan leapt over the bar and Sean tossed his tray aside and rushed toward them. Jake pointed to a door just a few feet from the couch where Emma had been sitting. "Her scent is strong this way."
The door was locked, but he expected that. He was enormously strong, and when he called on his cat, that added to his physical strength. They took down the door in seconds, splintering the hard wood. Emma was on the floor, on her knees, her face so pale she looked like a ghost. Her stockings were torn and her clothing disheveled. A man was reaching for her, but he stopped abruptly as Jake and his men poured into the room. The man's face was bloody. It looked as if his nose might have been broken.
Already Jake's body was contorting, his clothes ripping.
"Take her," Drake snapped as Conner and Joshua moved between Jake and Emma. "Get her out of here."
Jake looked around the room. "You're dead," he said quietly, and reached for Emma.
She had trouble getting her legs under her and standing, so he simply swept her up, cradling her body close, and turned and went out, Sean leading the way with Evan flanking them. Drake, Joshua and Conner held back the two leopard mercenaries with warning growls of their own. Jake strode through the curious partygoers, paying no attention to the gasps and questions. The men closed ranks, the others catching up as they exited the house.
Jake put Emma in his Ferrari, slammed the door harder than necessary and started the engine. "Put your seat belt on."
When she fumbled with it, he swore and did it himself. Looking straight ahead, he pulled the car onto the deserted street, following the vehicle carrying two of the bodyguards. Behind them, another vehicle followed close.
"What the hell were you thinking, going off alone into a room with them?" Inside the close proximity of the vehicle, the other man's stench was overpowering. She reeked of something half man, half leopard. He could smell the other cat and it drove his leopard into absolute madness. He could barely control the car, his fingers contorting and curling, curved claws pushing against the ends of his fingers.
Emma moistened her lips, trying to get past the cotton in her mouth. Her brain was still fuzzy, refusing to work properly. She knew Jake's fury with her was building, but she seemed unable to find a way to answer him. Her arms remained heavy, the drug in her system clinging in spite of her best efforts to shake it off.
She was close to tears. Rory had come close to raping her. That had been his intention, with Trent, Cathy Bannaconni and the other man, Clayton, looking on. If Clayton and Trent hadn't wanted in on the action, in those few moments, Rory might have succeeded, while Cathy documented the entire assault. She didn't know if their plan to make Jake throw her out would have been successful, or if it had without the assault. He was nearly out of control, low, menacing growls rumbling constantly in his throat.
She needed comfort, not tantrums, and Jake was close to a violent tantrum.
"I told you to stay in plain sight. What did you think was happening? After what happened yesterday, did you think this was some kind of game?" His vision was changing, and he saw heated bands of color. The lights of the cars hurt his eyes. His jaw ached. He breathed hard through his nose, trying to hold back the change. His cat was in a fury, the stench of the other male driving him mad.
She didn't respond, and in truth, Jake was grateful she didn't make excuses, knowing it would have infuriated him even more. He drove in silence until they were on his property and the security peeled off, leaving them alone. Instead of heading for the house, he chose to drive out toward the back part of the property, taking them away from the children and his security team now that they were on his ranch. He didn't trust himself. His intention was to get out, to tell her to drive back without him, and then he would run until the cat was exhausted. He no longer trusted himself in his present state.
He slammed on the brakes and brought the car sliding to a halt, shoving open his door and nearly falling out, his cat pushing hard against his skin. He tore off his jacket, tossing it on the hood of the car, and ripped at his shirt, popping buttons so that they fell to the ground, scattering everywhere.
Breathing hard, he went around to the passenger side and yanked her door open with every intention of having her get into the driver's seat. The stench of the other male filled his lungs and he scented . . . leopard. She had another male's mark all over her. Without even being aware of his actions, he jerked her out of the car. Emma tried to pull away, falling back against the car, fighting to shake off the lethargy the drug had produced.
Her resistance triggered the leopard in him. Snarling, he ripped at the offending dress, raking down it with sharpened claws, tearing it off her in strips. The material went everywhere as the wind blew across the sky, carrying ribbons of black satin into the trees. Emma didn't move, holding perfectly still, watching him with her wary gaze. Her eyes were greener. Her skin softer. Her body nearly glowing and so hot it was all he could do not to throw her onto the hood of the car and bury his body in hers.
The change had him in its grip now, his body contorting, bones, sinew and tendons popping and cracking. He couldn't stop it. He screamed silently, terrified for her. "Get in the car. Get out of here." He tried to speak, to save her from the cat's jealous fury, but his voice was already gone, coming out a growl instead of words. His knuckles turned, claws bursting from his fingertips. He tried to tear off his shirt. Already his body was bending, going to the ground. His shoes hurt, the seams bursting as he fell.
Emma should have been running screaming from him, but she went to the ground with him, pulling at his shoes, dragging the shirt from him. The leopard, more prominent than the man, scented the drug in her system. Despair spread like lightning. She'd been drugged--almost raped-and he'd been like an animal, clawing and raking at her instead of pulling her into his arms and holding her, comforting her. He'd been at fault, failing in his protection of her. Now his leopard was bursting free in front of her, his teeth sharp, his temper ferocious.
Please. Emma. Honey. For God's sake. Get in the car. He tried to tell her, tried to shove her away from him, but his vocal cords weren't working.
He didn't know if he could fight the leopard for her. He'd hurt Drake, raking him with his claws, tearing open his chest. Drake had never said a word of recrimination, but Jake would never forget the sight of his friend with the mark of the leopard striped across his chest.
Emma tore at his trousers, dragging them down his legs so he could kick them aside. He breathed deeply, holding off as long as he could, trying to give her time. His claws raked long strips of dirt from the ground. He felt fur rippling over his skin and groaned with the effort to hold back. It was too late, far too late.
Emma! He cried out her name in his mind, pleading with the leopard to get away from her.
Emma sat on the ground, her back to the tire of the car, exhausted, Jake's clothes scattered all around her. A few remnants of her dress lay on the ground. She was clothed in only her panties, garter and torn stockings. She'd lost her shoes when Jake had pulled her out of the car. Her nipples were tight buds due to the cold air, her breasts bare. She watched him change, the large man in the throes of shifting, his bones re-forming, his muzzle lengthening and filling with teeth, his eyes glowing and wild, fixed on her.
The leopard, fully formed, stepped forward, thrusting its face into hers, its breath hot on her skin, one huge paw on her shoulder, claws digging into her. The huge cat snarled, scenting the other male. He rasped his tongue over Emma's face and rubbed along her body with his cheeks and his scent glands to warn the other male off. She pulled back to look him in the eye, her green eyes glittering, his golden gaze furious. They stared at each other until she buried her fingers into the lush fur coat and pushed him away from her.
"Go away, Jake. I'm really upset with you right now." Her voice sounded odd, far away. She clutched the fur tighter, but her fingers slipped. The ground tilted. She slid down the wheel of
the car and found herself staring up at the leopard's fur-lined belly. Her lashes fluttered, her lids too heavy to keep up.
The leopard nuzzled her as she closed her eyes and gave in to the drug.
16
EMMA woke slowly, her mouth dry, jackhammers drilling through her temples. She burrowed into the warmth surrounding her before she realized Jake was rocking her in the large chair he'd brought to her room a year earlier when Andraya was born. He liked to sit in the chair and rock Kyle, feeding him his bottle while she fed Andraya.
"I don't like you very much," she murmured, keeping her eyes closed. The room was dark, the house silent. His chest was bare beneath her cheek.
"I know you don't," he answered softly. "Go back to sleep. The doctor said you'd have a headache and would probably feel like a truck ran you over."
Mostly she felt exhausted. It shocked her a little that he'd brought in a doctor and she hadn't even roused from the drug enough to know. "You should have been thinking about me, Jake, not yourself. That was a terrifying experience. That man would have raped me. Maybe all of them."
He nuzzled the top of her head. "I wasn't thinking like a man, Emma. That's no excuse, but it is the truth."
"My mother was leopard, Jake. There was no difference between her and her leopard, and there shouldn't be with you either. You use your leopard as an excuse."
He smiled at the little bite in her voice and briefly buried his face in her hair again. "You should have told me about your mother."
"Why? How? It isn't exactly normal. You didn't tell me." Emma passed a hand over her face. Her arm still felt like lead.
"You weren't afraid or even shocked when I shifted."
"I lived with you for two years, Jake. Did you think I wouldn't see the claw marks on the floors and walls, especially in your office? Did you think I wouldn't know what you were doing the nights you went running and came back with your clothes shredded? Or the time your mother--the enemy," she corrected herself, "came and you left fresh marks on the floor in the nursery and punctured your own palms? I lived with my mother for nineteen years. It's not like I couldn't read the signs or smell the cat. If you didn't want to tell me, I wasn't going to bring it up."
"And your family had been hunted. You didn't entirely trust me--or anyone else," Jake prompted, knowing it was the truth.
She shrugged and lifted her head up, for the first time opening her eyes. His eyes were still a cat's eyes, glowing red in the dark. "You have to admit, it was a big coincidence, my mother being a leopard, our family hunted and eventually killed, and then you bringing me here. Drake. Joshua. Conner. Aside from my mother, I'd never met a single leopard until I met you. I had to know what you wanted."
At least she hadn't run from him. She'd had the courage to stay, giving him a chance to prove himself even though she had to know there was a possibility he had ulterior motives. "And Trent and the enemy told you, no doubt." His voice held a note of bitterness. He knew they wouldn't resist planting seeds of doubt in her mind.
"They told me what they wanted me to believe. And I know what they wanted, that was made very clear. Me. A cub from me. They think I might be a shifter, or at least be able to produce one for them. They think one will give them an advantage in the oil fields, but I doubt if all shifters can scent oil in the ground or they'd be doing it already. They want me to believe that's the only thing you want from me as well, that and to prevent them from having me." She looked at him. "I thought it strange that they didn't even realize what a sense of entitlement they have, believing they have the right to buy people, that somehow they are superior to the rest of us."
"All this time, it was a game to me, the enemies, pitting themselves against me," Jake admitted. "I thought they were after an unknown oil field or natural gas reserve. I knew they wanted a shifter of their own to control, but even though I was certain you had the bloodline, it didn't occur to me you were what they were after all along. The real estate offer was to throw me, make me look in other directions, and I fell for it."
"Then you did know about me?" Her voice held a hint of wariness.
"Not until recently, until you began to . . . blossom. The female development is difficult to pinpoint. No one knows what brings out their leopard, or their first heat."
"I'm not a shifter. I have the blood and can feel things, smell things, but I don't have a leopard." She sounded regretful.
"Maybe it just hasn't come out yet," he said, brushing his mouth over the top of her head. Jake smoothed back her silky hair with gentle fingers.
"The thing is, Jake, you're nothing like them, no matter what you think of yourself. I've lived with you too long for you to hide that from me. You aren't anything at all like those people." Her eyes locked with his. "Whatever you think about the blood running in your veins, believe me, I have firsthand knowledge, and you're nothing like them."
"I used you as bait," he said, hating himself.
"We needed to see what they were after, to protect our family--the children. I go into things with my eyes open, Jake."
His heart contracted. "Well, close them now. Go back to sleep, honey. We can talk in the morning."
Emma snuggled deeper into his arms, surprised how safe she felt. She let herself drift, aware of his strength, his even breathing, the gentle motion of the rocking chair. When next she woke, they were on her bed, the covers over them, his body wrapped tightly around hers. She could feel the pads of his fingers stroking along her ribs, gently, back and forth.
"Jake?" She said his name in inquiry. It seemed so much easier to face him in the dark. "Thanks for rescuing me."
He kissed her bare shoulder. "You did a pretty good job of rescuing yourself."
"They told me that my father is Trent's nephew and that he took a great deal of money from Trent to bring back a female shifter. He lured my mother back to the States. They said he planned to sell her to Trent, that he'd already taken their money."
"He married her and kept her safe."
"But I think they were telling the truth, Jake," she said, her heart beating too fast. "I think he was bringing her back with the intention of handing her over to them, but changed his mind. What does that say about him? That he would consider selling a woman to his uncle?"
"Honey, you can't let them taint your memories of your parents. You said they loved each other. That they loved you. Whatever mistakes your father made as a young man, growing up in that family with the kind of upbringing he would have had, he overcame it. Trent was worse than the enemies. I know he was. Your father must have been punished in the same way I was for not being what they wanted."
She was silent for a long time. "Jake? When I woke up, you looked very scary. What were you thinking about?"
He groaned and rolled over. "Why do you have to ask me questions like that when I don't want to tell you the answer?"
Emma smiled in the darkness. His body wasn't in its normal hard-as-a-rock state. He was upset; she could feel that his introspection distressed him. "Just tell me."
"I always look my worst in front of you." His voice sounded strained. "I don't think I can really afford to look any worse than I already do. Let it go this time."
She rolled over to look at him. She had excellent night vision and he looked strained, ravaged. She pressed her fingertips to his face, tracing the lines there. "Tell me anyway. So far I haven't run from you."
He caught her fingers and kissed them, holding them to his mouth. "But you should have, Emma. You were right, you know, about last night. I thought a lot about what you said. I was thinking only of me. Of my cat's rage and the scent of another man on your skin. I didn't hold you, or comfort you, or even check to see if they had hurt you. I didn't give you a chance to talk to me. I don't understand how you can even look at me."
"You have a fast learning curve, Jake. How can you expect to know how to react to something when you've never been shown the right way? Not everything is instinct."
"My cat's reaction is instinctive."
He was silent for a long time, his teeth scraping back and forth on the tips of her fingers. "What you're really saying is that my leopard is a convenience for me to blame all my worst traits on."
"Possibly. I know what my mother was like. Yes, she had a temper and she could be jealous and possessive, but she didn't let it rule her. Your leopard is still you. If you aren't separate, you have to accept that part of you."
"You sound like Drake now." He rolled onto his back, taking her hand with him. "There are so many animal traits not to like, Emma. I don't like that possibility."
"But there are so many to like," she pointed out.
"I was lying here watching you sleep and planning to kill them--the enemies. I should have killed them a long time ago. Is that normal? Is that something people do? How they think? Is that me, or my leopard?"
"You and your leopard are one in the same. You're more aggressive than the average man, but that just means you need to have stronger control. Of course you want to eliminate any threat to your family. Some people might think about killing someone, but they don't actually do it. That's one of those unacceptable things you don't ever do if it's possible to avoid it."
"No one else is going to stop them. They'll keep coming at us." His hand slid over her hair. "I don't honestly know what I'd do if something happened to you."
"You'd take care of our children." She propped herself up on her elbows and pushed back the dark fall of hair spilling across his forehead. "That's what you'd do, Jake."
His hand came up to the nape of her neck. She could feel his body trembling as he pulled her head down to his so he could find her mouth. His kiss tasted of tears. Of love. Of everything he couldn't say aloud. He was tender, incredibly gentle.