Feral Magic

by Tate James

  Reaching down, I smacked his hand off my thigh, then shoved his chest as hard as I dared.

  “You might be hot, Raze, but no amount of rippling abs or dreamy ink can excuse a bad personality. And for the record, I don’t fuck married men. So keep your paws to yourself and stay the fuck out of my way.” Thankfully, my words were buoyed with righteous indignation to cover up the trembling arousal he’d set alight in me.

  With a disgusted glare, I pushed past him and out of the kitchen.

  When I returned to my bedroom and found the bed vacant, I breathed a heavy sigh of relief. After Raze’s scorn, I couldn’t have handled Hunter’s advances. I needed another shower... preferably a cold one this time.

  Some time later, after shocking myself with ice-cold water and then mentally berating myself for being such a scatterbrained nitwit, I turned the hot water up and started washing my hair. Again. It was probably pointless, but I kept thinking if I washed it enough, then the color would fade down to something less garish.

  The ensuite for the room I’d been using had a really pretty view from the shower, so I took my time soaping up my hair while staring out into the still, dark night.

  Something moved between the trees, and I squinted to get a better look. Maybe a deer? Or was it one of the guys in cat form?

  Wow, never thought that would be a casual question on my mind. How easily I had just accepted the fact that they turned big and furry and clawed.

  No, that wasn’t an animal... it was a person. But not one of the guys. This person was too slight in build and was currently running away from the cabin as stealthily as possible. As I watched, the shadowy person paused and turned back to the house.

  I hadn’t bothered to turn a light on in the bathroom, so he probably couldn’t see me watching, but I saw him. Clear as day under the moonlight. He was tall but with a leaner sort of build than my cat guardians. His jet-black hair was shaved short on the sides and left longer on top, like he’d done it for a mohawk then couldn’t be bothered with the gelling. What was most striking, though, was the silver scar running the length of his face and bisecting his eyebrow. That eye was lighter than the other as well, and I guessed that if I saw him up close, it might be clouded over with blindness.

  As I watched, he took something from his pocket and pressed a button.

  Throughout the house, explosions detonated, and the darkness was erased by the intense glow of orange flames.

  That handsome, scar-faced motherfucker had just blown up the cabin!

  For a second I stood there, frozen in shock as he stared straight back at me. Apparently the light from the burning house had lit up the night enough that he could now see me. All of me. His gaze flickered down my naked body, then he smirked, gave me a little salute, and disappeared into the forest.

  The second he disappeared from sight, it was like the spell had broken.

  “Holy fucking cats!” I screamed, leaping out of the shower, grabbing the first towel I could reach, and dashing from the bathroom. The whole damn house was ablaze, and fire was already licking up the bedroom curtains as I ran through into the hallway. The guys must have all heard the explosions, too, on their way into my room as I came crashing out.

  Needless to say, I somehow ended up in a naked tangle of limbs with—ugh, for cat’s sake—Raze of all people.

  “Come on, we need to move,” Boden snapped, lifting me off Raze and throwing me over his shoulder. The three of them moved through the burning house with quiet grace and slipped us out of a broken window at the back of the property.

  Once outside, it was clear to see what had happened. Small bombs had been placed around the perimeter of the structure, about three feet from the house itself. The flames produced by the explosions must have grabbed onto any flammable substances.

  “Why not inside the house?” I asked with a frown as Boden set me down on my feet under the protection of the trees. “Why only around the outside?”

  “Protection spell wouldn’t have let them any closer; that’s how I know it was Bastites. No one wishing us harm could have got within three feet of the house,” Boden replied, coughing a few times before grimacing. The smoke had been getting really thick as we exited, but there was something... not right.

  “I don’t think they were actually trying to kill us this time,” I commented, frowning up at the burning house. “Otherwise wouldn’t they have waited around and killed us when we left?”

  “She’s got a good point,” Hunter agreed, ruffling his fingers through his hair and scowling around us, like he thought the Bastites were hiding.

  Raze grunted a noise and ran his eyes over me. “Shame she doesn’t have any clothes to keep that good point company. Were the towels all on fire too, Mags?”

  “Shit!” I yelped, frantically trying to cover all my lady bits with what I now realized was a washcloth, not a towel. Mother. Fucking. Cats. “Well,” I huffed, giving up on my boobs and deciding to just cover my taco. “I guess now you can see for yourself. My tits are not little.”

  Raze rolled his eyes, but I swear there was a twitch of amusement in his face before he turned his back on us and stomped into the woods.

  “Here,” Boden shrugged off his T-shirt and pulled it over my head before glaring at Hunter.

  “What?” the flirtatious Aussie grinned broadly, having just torn his attention away from my ass. “I don’t wear shirts to bed, otherwise I would have offered. You can have my boxers, though.” His hands went to the waistband of his underwear, and Boden smacked him on the arm.

  Snorting a laugh at how eager Hunter was to get naked, I shook my head. “I’ll be fine, but thanks. What do we do now?”

  We’d started following Raze into the woods, leaving the blazing remains of our safe house behind, but I had no idea what the fuck was meant to happen next. I mean, the guys didn’t even look that offended about someone literally trying to burn us alive.

  “Move to the next safe house, then contact the Council when we’re sure we haven’t been followed.” Boden sounded so matter-of-fact about the whole thing, but I was confused as all fuck.

  Jerking to a stop, I turned slightly to look back at the burning house, then frowned at Boden and Hunter. Raze had continued ahead, but I could see him lurking in the distance.

  “Hold up.” I propped my fists on my hips. “You want to tell me those assholes just wrecked Candy Jack, then shot at us, then tried to barbeque us... and we’re just going to let them get away with it?”

  None of them responded for a moment, and Hunter slid a glance at Boden.

  “We have our orders,” Boden responded in a no-nonsense tone, “and they don’t involve going off half-cocked to chase down killer cultists.”

  I scowled at him, my inner claws coming out. I may not have been a damn shifter, but those goddess-worshiping psychopaths had just killed my van, blown up a house with me in it, and generally crapped all over my already crappy day. I’d had enough. “You may, but I sure as shit don’t. Those fuckers killed Candy Jack, and I intend to see them pay for it!” Without waiting for a response, I started stomping off in the direction that I’d seen the scar-faced man disappear.

  “Cleo-babe!” Hunter called after me, “Where are you going? We need to get you to the next safe house!”

  “No one kills Candy Jack and lives to tell the tale!” I yelled back, shaking a fist to the sky. “Those Bast-ards will rue the day they messed with Cleo Carroll!”

  Chapter Seven

  The guys didn’t let me get super far before catching up and trying to guide me in the direction—I guessed—of the next safe house. Or like, the road? I wasn’t listening real hard to whatever the plan was. My total focus was on making those fuckers pay for the death of Candy Jack.

  “Guys, seriously,” I snapped after Hunter tugged on my arm for the millionth time. “I’m not going to go run and hide or whatever your orders are, so just quit it!”

  “So what exactly is your plan, Maggie?” Raze asked in drawling condescension. Like I
would just storm off into a forest with no map, no plan, and no pants.

  Shit. That’s exactly what I’d just done.

  “None of your business, twatwaffle,” I bit back, bluffing over my serious lack of a clue. “Just run off to your little safe house and be, like, safe and shit. I’ll deal with these assholes myself.”

  The look on Raze’s face seemed half startled and half constipated. What came next, though, shocked me even more than seeing Hunter’s sexy ass turn all furry.

  He laughed.

  Raze whatever-his-last-name-was just laughed.

  “Holy cats,” I breathed, pausing in my stomping to stare at the gorgeous, bronze god before me. “I didn’t know you knew how to do that.”

  He continued to laugh, shaking his head and not seeming to notice that I’d stopped as he continued walking through the thick underbrush. Startled, I flicked a look at Boden and Hunter, who just shrugged at me and looked a bit amused themselves.

  Shaking my head, I tried to brush off the jaw dropping image of Raze laughing and hurried to catch up to him. Fucker was casually strolling, and I needed to practically run to keep up... even though I was supposed to lead this expedition.

  “Fucking quit taking over,” I demanded, hurrying to pass him again. “You’re following me, not the other way around.”

  He made a vexed sound behind me, but I was determined to get back in front and wasn’t totally paying attention anymore. So much so, that I ran straight into a black-cloaked stranger crouched behind a tree.

  “What the fucking, cat-loving hell?” I exclaimed as my hands slammed into the hard packed earth, barely breaking my fall before my face ate shit. “Who hides in the forest in the middle of the night? And in a black—” I cut off as it clicked. “Ooooh, Bast-ard!”

  I scrambled around, springing back to my feet in a smooth and elegant movement. Hah, kidding, I looked like a crab with one leg shorter than the rest.

  The fucker who I’d tripped over seemed to have his foot stuck in a broken log, but he pulled it free while I watched, then stood to face me.

  “The amulet!” the black-robed man gasped, staring at the gold pendant, which swung free over Boden’s T-shirt.

  Pumped up on anger and adrenaline, I snarled at the cultist, who totally could have passed as a librarian in another life. You know, without the robes and the ritual dagger tucked into his waistband.

  “You want it? Come and get it!” I shouted my challenge with all the confidence of a seasoned fighter. What a shame I sucked at any kind of physical activity... well... any physical activity that would help in this situation, anyway.

  The cultist took me at my word, though, and charged at me while I flinched and raised my hands to, I don’t know, maybe bitch slap him to death? That was all I had in my arsenal, so it was going to have to do the trick!

  “For fuck’s sake,” someone sighed, and I cracked my eyes open just in time to catch Raze snatch the cultist straight out of the air before he reached me. “Seriously, Mags? Come and get it? What exactly was your plan here?” He indicated to my raised slapping hands and arched a brow.

  “Leave her alone, Raze,” Hunter growled, brushing past his friend and coming to stand in front of me. “Are you okay, Cleo-babe? Did he hurt you?” It was right on the tip of my tongue to tell him I wasn’t a porcelain doll, but when his hand stroked my cheek, I leaned into all that delicious, electric warmth instead.

  Damn him. I really needed to work out what he was doing to me with all these “innocent” touches.

  “I’m fine,” I answered him, then raised my voice a little. “I had that handled!”

  I definitely did not.

  Raze shoved the Bastite down in the middle of a little clearing and said something threatening that was too quiet for me to hear. Probably something growly and broody and badass. Ugh, I hated him.

  I folded my arms over my chest and tried really hard not to lean into Hunter, as close as he was to me.

  “We should, like, torture him for information or something,” I suggested quietly, and Hunter snickered a laugh. Raze and Boden were both searching the area around us—presumably checking if any of his friends were nearby—while the cultist sat in the dirt and looked sad about life.

  “Since when did you turn into the serial killer in this relationship, Cleo-babe?” Hunter teased, giving me a lopsided grin that captured way too much of my attention.

  I gaped at his accusation. “I didn’t suggest killing him, just a little light torture and stuff. Besides, we’re not in a relationship.”

  “Oh no?” Hunter huffed, stepping back into my line of sight and drawing my attention away from the Bastite. “Then what would you call this situation we’re in? Because it’s sure as shit not friendship, and I have zero intention of following the rules and keeping my paws off you.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, desperately trying not to be charmed by his casual disregard for the rules of his supernatural community. Jesus Christ Supercats, what was it about bad-boy rule breakers that was such a universal turn on?

  “Who says I’m even attracted to you, Thor?” I challenged, my fingers creeping to my amulet and rubbing it nervously.

  Hunter’s grin spread wider. “You did, Cleo-babe. The other night in the bar. You specifically said you were attracted to me.”

  “Oh.” He had a point there. “Well. Uh—Watch out!” That last part came out in a strangled shriek as I caught a flash of the cultist’s dagger raised in the moonlight as he lunged for Hunter’s exposed back.

  My whole body jolted with terror as time seemed to slow, and the blade descended in almost comical slow motion. I was frozen in horror, though, unable to do anything but stare as Hunter was about to be skewered on a twisted, ornamental knife.

  Right up until the knife, and the cultist, burst out in a bright, hot flare of fire, then instantly turned to ash and dropped to the ground in a pile of... well... ash. I was too fucking stunned to find a better metaphor.

  “What the fuck...?” Hunter turned slowly, looking from the remains of our friendly neighborhood murderer and then to me... then to my amulet still clutched between my fingers. “Oh shit.”

  “Oh shit?” I repeated, turning my wide-eyed stare to the pretty Aussie bloke. “What does that mean, ‘oh shit’? How did you do that? Is that a cat shifter power?”

  Hunter shook his head slowly, still staring at me with a mixture of awe and something else. Caution? Before he could answer me, Raze and Boden came crashing back into the clearing.

  “What happened here?” Boden demanded, spearing Hunter with a sharp look and me with a somewhat softer one. “Where did the Bastite go?”

  Hunter and I both just sort of stared at the pile of ash and then glanced at each other. I was getting a really sneaking suspicion that this was not a cat shifter power and just maybe had something to do with me.

  Maybe.

  Probably.

  “Well...” I started, tucking the amulet inside my borrowed T-shirt while my cheeks heated with embarrassment. “Funny you should ask.”

  I’d sort of been thinking someone would cut me off right there, so I paused and licked my lips but didn’t continue. After a long, awkward silence, I started to get a clue that these guys weren’t big on talking over me when I needed to say something important. That was rare, wasn’t it? For a group of hot alpha males to listen to their woman?

  Wait, did I just think of myself as their woman? A bit presumptive of me. My libido really was starting to take over. That was worrying.

  “Cleo,” Boden barked—meowed? “You were saying?”

  “Oh, uh, yeah, I have no idea. Hunter?” I looked to sexy Steve Irwin for assistance, and he just shrugged. Oh so helpful. Fucker.

  Raze took a few steps closer and nudged the pile of ash with his toe, then wrinkled his nose. “I think it’s a fair guess to say that someone incinerated the cultist.” He arched a brow at me accusingly, and I flushed with heat. “And given that is not a power shifters possess, it’s not hard to gues
s who made it happen.”

  “In my defense,” I started, raising my finger to emphasize my point, “he was about to stab Hunter in the back.”

  Boden and Raze both turned their glares on Hunter who shrugged uncomfortably.

  “You try and stay focused while she’s standing there all pants-less and shit,” Hunter muttered, scuffing his bare foot in the dirt. “But we should—”

  “Keep moving,” Boden finished for him. Or was he cutting him off? Huh. What had Hunter been about to say, if not that? Ugh, I sounded paranoid, even inside my own head. “Come on, Cleo. We need to get you some more clothes before you catch pneumonia or something.” He reached out and took my hand, tugging me away from Hunter and pulling me close to his bare chest. “If you don’t already have it. You’re freezing.”

  Now that he mentioned it, I was starting to do my very best impersonation of a popsicle. How the fuck did I keep ending up with so few clothes on? Something about these damn cat shifters...

  “We should shift,” Raze suggested. “We’ll move more quickly through this mess.” He kicked at the shrubby shit between trees, and several sticks broke. “Not to mention quieter.”

  “You’re right,” Boden agreed. Somehow I’d ended up plastered against his scorching hot chest while he rubbed his palms up and down my goose-fleshed arms. “Raze, you’ll need to carry Cleo. Beautiful, can you carry our clothes? We might need them when we shift back.”

  I nodded my agreement, then sort of registered what he’d just said. “Uh, I can’t ride Raze.” As soon as the words passed my lips, I mentally snickered and called myself a liar. I could definitely ride Raze, but not as a freaking cat!

  “Hunter can do it,” Raze argued, sounding as happy about the situation as I was.