Hunted by a Jaguar

by Felicity Heaton

  With the egg.

  Iolanthe had avoided dragons since then. The males were dangerously possessive and fought over everything. The females were dangerous too, but they mostly fought over the males. Dragon society apparently had a tradition of sharing partners and satisfying their urges with whoever caught their eye. They didn’t seem to be interested in monogamy until they had found their fated one.

  She held the lamp higher, peering towards the far end of the corridor.

  When she saw it was clear, she teleported there, landing on her feet. She scoured the path ahead of her again. Clear. She fell into a rhythm of teleporting to the furthest point she could see, checking the next section, and teleporting again. The stench eventually disappeared. Whatever had died in the tunnel was behind her. She shuddered and was thankful that she wouldn’t have to see it. Once she had found the artefact, she could teleport directly to the ledge outside in the fresher air.

  The tunnel led upwards and then curved and dipped downwards. She didn’t recall any details about the path that had taken her down to the cavern. Not because it had been two thousand years since she had been here. She didn’t recall any details because she had been running flat out with an ogre on her tail. The great grey beast had become lost in the tunnels and she had run into him near the start. She had surmised he had been there a long time, trapped inside the mountain since the entrance had caved in, because he had started drooling from between his tusks the moment he had looked at her and had given chase shortly afterwards.

  Iolanthe hadn’t wanted to be eaten, so she had run.

  The ogre had tracked her right down to the cavern and had blocked her exit.

  She had tried to fight him, but he had been almost four times her height and ten times her width, and some of his muscles had been bigger than her entire body. He had easily defeated her and had dragged her towards the exit of the tunnels where they had crossed paths, holding her by her ankle, talking to himself about the various ways he wanted to prepare her.

  Eat her.

  Iolanthe had known that she was going to die.

  She had passed out and had feared she would never open her eyes again.

  When she had finally come around, the ogre’s head had been sitting beside his body, surrounded by a thick pool of blood. The gruesome sight had startled her and she had looked around for the beast who had managed to not only defeat an ogre but decapitate it too.

  And that was the moment her eyes had fallen on her brother where he had stood beside the dead ogre, his arms folded across his chest and an unimpressed look on his handsome face.

  It was also the first time she had been thankful that she had such an overprotective sibling. If he hadn’t insisted she tell him where she was going, and if he hadn’t insisted she tell him precisely when she would be back, a date and time she had missed by three whole days, she would have been ogre food.

  Iolanthe smiled to herself and walked into the enormous cavern. Violet and pure white crystals stuck out of the ceiling, her lamp catching and illuminating them so they shone. Hints of gold and silver streaked their numerous faces, reflected up from the hoard of treasure stretching before her.

  It was still here.

  She set the lamp on a crystal that rose from the floor of the cavern and began searching through the treasure, looking for something that matched what had been inscribed on the back of the coin.

  A language she hadn’t recognised.

  She checked each piece before setting it down near the entrance, in a pile away from the items she had yet to study. Swords. Lanterns. Belts. Chains. Jewellery. The dragon had been busy, gathering items from all over Hell. There were probably several artefacts that belonged to demons among the ones the shifter had gathered, but there was only one that she wanted.

  It had to be here.

  Iolanthe had checked half the items, almost five hundred of them, before she took a break and looked around her. On the black walls of the cave, the dragon had carved pictures, crude drawings of dragons in flight and people, and even mountains. She wandered over to a section of the mural and stroked her fingers over the images. The male or female must have used a tool, because there were multiple grooves at an angle, as if the stone had been chipped away.

  The drawings were also limited to just above her height, leaving the top of the black wall untouched.

  They had done it while in their mortal form.

  She traced the shape of a mountain. It resembled the one she was in. In the dale below it, there was a village, and to the far right, where the last mountain dropped into the valley, there was a temple. It looked almost like the ones she had seen in the glory days of the Romans and the Greeks. A set of four columns held a triangular roof over the entrance. That roof butted up against another roof, this one a dome. Below the dome, more columns stretched between the base and the roof, following the circle.

  When she had come to the mountains two thousand years ago, she hadn’t seen any temple. There had been the remains of some stone huts and perhaps there had been a stone circle. She wasn’t sure even the remains or the stone circle were there anymore, but she decided she would investigate the valley once she had finished searching through the treasure and had found the item she needed.

  She hoped it wasn’t another clue.

  Iolanthe pulled the silver pin from her hair, brushed her fingers through the long black lengths, and twisted it into a neat knot at the back of her head. She jabbed the pin back through it to hold it in place and went back to her work, checking each piece and discarding it. The cavern began to heat up, slowly enough that she didn’t notice it at first. It was only when her head turned that she realised the air was running out, making the cavern feel stuffy. She forced herself to continue, breathing as shallowly as possible as she discarded another piece, this one a necklace.

  She picked up a gold platter and froze, her eyes on the silver dagger it had concealed.

  She knew that writing.

  She snatched hold of the dagger, her hand curling around the striped black and silver grip. The claws at the end of it held a smooth round ruby, the colour of blood. She turned the short double-edged blade over, her eyes scanning the inscription on it. She couldn’t read it, but it was definitely the same language as the writing on the medallion.

  She muttered a few choice curses at herself for forgetting to bring it with her. It might have offered her a clue to deciphering what the dagger said. Either the dagger was just another clue, and one she couldn’t read, or it was the item she had been looking for.

  She had two options now.

  She could find a book or someone who could read the language and translate it, or she could try to find the location where Barafnir could be summoned from and attempt to use the dagger.

  Her head turned again. Either way, she needed to get out of the cavern and tunnels before the air ran out and she lost consciousness. She focused on the wide ledge outside the tunnel into the mountain and teleported there. The cool air washed over her the second she appeared and she breathed deep of it, filling her lungs and sighing it out as her head cleared.

  When she felt better, she flexed her fingers around the dagger and stared at the writing on it.

  Was it just another clue?

  Or was it the key to saving her life and giving Kyter his vengeance?

  Iolanthe lifted her head to look down into the valley.

  The air between her and the dark horizon shimmered.

  A teleportation trail. Someone was coming.

  A familiar sensation went through her.

  Her blood turned to ice in her veins and her stomach dropped into her feet.

  It couldn’t be.

  CHAPTER 20

  Kyter sat with his back against the wall of the inner temple in Pompeii, soaked through from the rain that had finally passed and in agony. His ankle wasn’t the only thing on fire. His heart burned too, the need to find Iolanthe and protect her a relentless force within him, driving him to bear the pain of his injury and
focus only on her welfare. She was more important than a busted Achilles tendon.

  She was more important than everything, including his own life.

  He would lay it on the line to save her. He would do whatever it took to ensure she lived to see another day.

  He gritted his teeth as his ankle pulsed with a fresh wave of fire and palmed the small leaf-shaped amethyst crystal, his eyes fixed on it and his focus locked there too. Everything depended on this small innocuous trinket. All of his hope. His life. Her life.

  He had been keeping it on his keys to Underworld since Bleu, an elf commander, had given it to him a month ago. Since receiving it, he had used it only once to send the elf a message, testing it out while the male had been visiting one of the Archangel facilities with his prince. Prince Loren’s mate was an Archangel doctor. Archangel were the leading force in the world of hunters, institutions dedicated to protecting humans from the fae and demons. Most of the humans in this world didn’t have a clue they shared it with everything from shifters to vampires, to incubi and succubi, and to things from fairy tales and mythology.

  Angels included.

  “Come on, Bleu,” Kyter muttered to the crystal, his patience wearing thin.

  He wasn’t sure whether the elf had received his message. He wasn’t even sure how the system worked. Bleu had explained that there was magic in the amethyst leaf, a spell that connected it to him. When Kyter had pressed for more information, the elf had simply told him to think of it as a sort of telepathy.

  He had to hold it in his palm and focus on Bleu, and then speak the words of his message in his head.

  Bleu would pick them up.

  Apparently sometimes it didn’t work. If the distance was too great or there was magical interference, Bleu wouldn’t hear him.

  Kyter prayed to every god available that the elf heard him.

  “Iolanthe,” he whispered, curling his fingers over the crystal and clutching it tightly. He needed to find her. He needed to reach her before she ran into those men again, or worse, went to see her client.

  Kyter feared that the male was out to deceive her. Whether she brought Fernandez the item or not, he was going to hand her over to that wretched dark-haired male who had dared to lay his filthy hands on her, and then he was going to kill her.

  The air ahead of him shimmered and Kyter had never been more glad to see the male who appeared before him.

  Standing at the same height as Kyter, an impressive six-feet-five, the elf male had the sort of looks that turned a hell of a lot of female heads and even some male ones. His violet eyes were as clear as the amethyst Kyter clutched in his palm, and his blue-black hair was overlong and wild, pushed back from his face tonight.

  He towered over Kyter, a formidable sight in his tight black scale-like armour. It hugged his lithe figure, accentuating every honed muscle that hid beneath, broadcasting how powerful this male was.

  Kyter wouldn’t mess with him.

  Bleu always radiated danger, his handsome face often locked in grim lines that only added to the sensation that he was liable to tear your heart out of your chest if you made a wrong move, but tonight he was throwing off stronger waves of it than normal.

  His face bore several cuts, including one that darted across his nose, and he reeked of blood. Not only his own. Kyter could scent multiple species on him. Vampires. Shifters. Demons. Even some magic bearers.

  “What happened to you?” Kyter tipped his head back and breathed through his pain as he tried to smile.

  It ended up as a grimace.

  Bleu raised an eyebrow but his violet eyes remained narrowed and hard, and his lips stayed locked in a grim line.

  The elf appeared to be in an even worse mood than usual.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” Bleu said, his deep voice at odds with his athletic figure. “I do not wish to talk about it. I am here because I need to take my mind off something, so out with it. What’s your problem?”

  Kyter did smile this time. Bleu had always been a forthright bastard.

  He grimaced again as he tried to push himself up into a more comfortable position, jarring his ankle in the process. The scent of his blood in the air grew thicker.

  Bleu arched an eyebrow again, his violet gaze dropping straight to the source of the scent. The elf crouched before him and produced a black vial that resembled an upside down teardrop and popped the leaf-shaped lid off with his thumb.

  “Drink.”

  Kyter wasn’t about to refuse that order. He had seen the effects of elf medicine with his own eyes and had no reason to doubt that Bleu meant to help him.

  He took the vial and brought it to his lips, his eyes watering as he caught the vile scent of it. He held his breath and drank down the contents in one swift go, retching as the taste matched the scent. He really didn’t want to ask what was in it, but he had the horrible feeling it was made of things as disgusting as the smell and taste indicated.

  The liquid was cold in his mouth but burned as it went down his throat. Incredible heat spread through him. It felt pleasant and Kyter relaxed against the wall, enjoying the way the heat chased the chill from his wet skin.

  It reached his ankle.

  Kyter threw his head back and screamed as white-hot agony ripped up his leg, the sudden intense pain threatening to render him unconscious. Bleu grabbed his shoulders and pinned him to the wall as he struggled, writhing as the fire lashed at him, burning him to ashes from the inside. He fought the elf, his fangs emerging and a feral snarl leaving his lips as the urge to shift came over him. He had to escape. He needed to get out of his own damned body.

  His snarl became a roar and Bleu braced him harder, immobilising him.

  “Calm down.” The elf’s deep voice brooked no argument and Kyter wasn’t in a position to make one, not when he was all messed up inside, convinced that he was in his jaguar form even as he was vaguely aware he still wore his normal one.

  He cried out, the mournful sound echoing from his throat, not born of his agony this time. It was born of a need to find his mate and hear her answer him.

  The pain began to ease and Bleu’s grip on him loosened. Kyter breathed hard, slowly settling his racing heart and piecing himself back together. Son of a bitch. He sagged against the wall, all of his strength leaving him, and opened his eyes to look at Bleu.

  The elf male eased back, still balanced in a crouch on his toes. “Better?”

  Kyter bared his fangs at the male. “You could’ve fucking warned me.”

  Bleu’s violet eyes glimmered with the smile his lips refused to issue. “Why spoil the fun?”

  Kyter huffed, pushed himself up into a sitting position and carefully parted the slash in his boot to reveal his ankle. Perfect, healed skin. Elf medicine was a miracle, even if it had felt as if the damned stuff had repaired his wound by tearing pieces off other parts of him.

  “Is this why you called?” Bleu said and Kyter shook his head.

  The elf male adopted his normal frown-come-glare. Iolanthe had given him that look countless times. It didn’t suit her. He preferred it when she smiled.

  He wasn’t sure Bleu knew how to really smile.

  They always seemed to come out sarcastic or strained.

  “I have an elf in danger. I need you to teleport me to a location in Hell that is on this medallion.” Kyter looked for it and spotted it across the flagstones.

  He must have knocked it flying when he had been fighting Bleu. He grabbed hold of the wall and eased himself onto his feet, not daring to place any weight on his ankle in case it crumpled beneath him.

  “I am not your personal taxi service.” Bleu huffed, rose onto his feet and folded his arms across his chest.

  “It’s important. I’ll owe you.” Kyter went to move towards the medallion.

  Bleu pressed a hand to his shoulder to stop him and pointed towards the gold disc. “This medallion?”

  Kyter nodded and the elf strode over to it. He stooped, swiped it from the stone flags and st
raightened. He frowned at it and then flipped it over. His lips flattened again, a dark edge entering his violet eyes.

  “You know the place?” Kyter didn’t dare hope that he did.

  “A female elf gave this to you?” Bleu turned his dark eyes on him, the black slashes of his eyebrows meeting hard above them and his nostrils flaring.

  Kyter shook his head and grimaced again as he tried to place some weight on his ankle and it throbbed. “We found it together here… it’s meant to reveal the location of an artefact.”

  “Artefact?” Bleu canted his head and looked from Kyter to the medallion and back again. “What artefact?”

  “I don’t have time to explain,” Kyter barked and hobbled towards him. “Some guy named Fernandez sent men after her.”

  Bleu’s face darkened and the sense of danger that swirled around him rose, his anger lacing his scent as he whispered, “Fernandez. The Mercury Assassins Guild master?”

  Assassins?

  Kyter didn’t like the sound of that.

  He reached out to grab Bleu’s arm and force an explanation out of him, but the elf grabbed him instead and the world descended into darkness.

  Kyter’s stomach turned and he clutched Bleu’s arm, shivering as cold swept over him. He hadn’t enjoyed teleporting with the demon, but he definitely didn’t like teleporting with Bleu. He hadn’t noticed how cold and dark it was in the void when he had been teleporting with Iolanthe, her slender warm body held tucked close to his.

  The darkness evaporated and she stood before him, as if his mind had conjured her. For a moment, he thought that it had and she was only a fantasy created by his desperate need to see her and see she was safe.

  Then he realised that the darkness behind her was black rock.

  And his fantasy Iolanthe would definitely have looked more pleased to see him.

  She scowled at him.

  Kyter hobbled towards her, his blood racing as he realised that Bleu had been able to bring him straight to where she had gone, and straight to her.