Leap of the Lion Page 8

  “The Hunter should just trample me now,” Owen muttered.

  “What?” Just looking at him took her breath away, as if the lethal grace of his cougar had somehow translated to his human form. But, from his irritated expression, someone should fetch the male some coffee or something.

  “Listen, female, you’re not to go into the forest by yourself.” He rose and paced around the room. “Calum assigned me and Gawain to mentor you while you get control of your shifting. We’ll teach you to hunt and how to be safe in the wilderness.”

  Exactly what she needed. Yet no lessons were more important than saving her brothers and the others.

  She waved her hand in the air, although doubting the cahir would shoo off easily. “I’m sure I can figure it out, and I won’t be here anyway. I have to leave now.” When his frown grew, she added a belated, “But thank you, anyway.”

  The deep rumbling laugh came from the doorway. Gawain carried in a tray of food. “Guess she told you, brawd.” He set the tray on a table near the bed. “Let’s get you sitting up so you can eat.”

  Without waiting, he leaned over and, with his hands under her arms, pulled her up to a sitting position. His hands were powerful, and the easy strength he displayed took her breath away. Compared to him, the Scythe’s human guards were underfed rabbits.

  When he picked up the tray, she shook her head. Her bladder had set up an urgent demand. “I need to…um, use the—” How in the world did non-prisoners talk about…needs?

  “The what?” Owen demanded.

  Gawain laughed. “Brawd, you’ve got to get out of your cabin more. She wants the bathroom.” He put a long arm around her waist and lifted her out of the bed and onto her feet. The covers stayed on the bed.

  She was naked…in front of two males.

  “What are you doing?” Jerking away, she ripped the quilt from the bed. She’d barely managed to wrap it around herself before her legs gave out, and her butt landed back on the bed. She stared up at the two huge males. She couldn’t even stand on her own and…

  Both of them looked at her as if she were crazy.

  Gawain frowned. “What’s the—”

  “She’s scared.” Sniffing the air, Owen took a step back. “Why are you scared?”

  “I…you…”

  “You’re men, and she doesn’t have any clothes on. Duh, guys.” A blonde woman stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. “Didn’t you tell me she spent the last decade with humans? Humans don’t do naked.”

  “Really?” Gawain tilted his head. “How do they mate then?”

  The woman choked as she started laughing and held up a hand for patience. Her shoulders were still shaking when she said, “Why is for later. Please ask Shay, not me.”

  Gawain frowned. “But—”

  “For now, how about you help her, with the blanket, to the bathroom before she bursts?” The blonde grinned at Darcy. “I’m Breanne—or Bree—and I left a T-shirt and sweatpants beside the sink. They’ll be big, but they’re comfy.”

  Fears fading, Darcy smiled back. She’d forgotten so much about the Daonain. Of course, shifters would be comfortable with being naked since clothing didn’t trawsfur.

  A new fear slid into her heart. Would she ever be able to fit in with the Daonain again?

  She would. She was free now; she could manage anything. “Thank you, Breanne. That’s very nice of you.”

  The blonde made a throwing away gesture. “All part of the Wildwood service. If you’re up to it, come on downstairs after you eat. Or take another nap, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As she disappeared, Gawain bent down. “Let’s try this again.” His arm wrapped around her waist, and he lifted her to her feet, supporting her when her knees wobbled. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

  Owen still hadn’t said a word. Brows together, he watched her with the same wariness she watched spiders.

  She bit her lip. “Owen. I’m…uh…sorry for over-reacting. And for how you were hurt rescuing me. I meant to say thank you. Are you all right? Did the healer fix your leg and wrist?”

  His brow furrowed and then he nodded. “Aye, I’m fine. Thank you.” He glanced at Gawain. “You got this. I’ll be downstairs.”

  As he stalked out, she stared after him in dismay. It was pretty obvious he didn’t like her. But what had she done?

  “Come on, catling. Your food is going to get cold.” Gawain’s deep voice held the rolling sound of thunder. Firmly, he guided her down the hall and into the bathroom.

  The bathroom had a shower—and she could feel every bit of grime sticking to her skin. Could smell her own fear and pain sweat. She almost shook with the longing for hot water and soap.

  Gawain still stood in the doorway. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  Looking into his blue eyes, she saw only concern. Oh, she really did like him. “Honestly, I can manage—I’m not dizzy any longer. And I’m sorry I kind of yelled at you.”

  The sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled with his smile. “Not to worry, sweetling. However, neither Owen nor I are familiar with human customs, and we’re to be your mentors. Will you tell us if something makes you uncomfortable so we can work around it?”

  Hugging him wouldn’t be appropriate, would it? No, her brains were surely scrambled. She nodded instead. “I will. Thank you.”

  As he strolled down the hall, she closed the door. Shower, shower, shower.

  *

  Wrist throbbing, Owen sat on the lodge’s back patio, nursing a beer and a bad mood. The little female had grabbed the blanket and looked at them as if she were a bunny cornered by hungry wolves.

  Then, he’d braced for hysterics, for screaming, for her to throw things as their mother had. Instead, she’d apologized. And acted as if she was worried about him. Him, a cahir.

  Why couldn’t she behave like a normal female?

  Maybe he didn’t know what a normal female was. Bree hadn’t yelled at him or Gawain either; she’d laughed.

  Come to think of it, he knew other good females. His own sister, for one. Then there was Ben and Ryder’s mate, Emma, who’d taken on a hellhound to save their tiny girl.

  And Vicki. Despite her small size, Calum and Alec’s female could give any male a run for his prey. He’d understood right away why the two males had chosen her for their mate.

  Gawain walked onto the patio, beer in hand. “Did you see how both females turned red?”

  Owen started to grin. “They did. It’s a pretty color on a female. But who ever heard of being embarrassed for not having on clothes?”

  “Eh, human customs. Who can figure them out?” Gawain took a good gulp of his beer. “Do they wear clothing to bed, then? Even when they’re mated?”

  Owen snorted. “Brawd, you’re asking the wrong shifter.”

  “She kicked me out of the bathroom. Is that a human deal, too?”

  “She’s not in her bed?”

  Gawain shook his head. “She said she could get back to her room. From the way she looked at the shower, I think she wants to clean up.”

  A shower? Owen frowned. As a blademage, Gawain had probably experienced burns, cuts, and bruises, but possibly never a serious wound. He might not know how, after a healing, a person’s energy could slide right down the drain along with the hot water. The tough little female might not realize the danger, either.

  He set his beer down. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  At the door of the bathroom, he listened. The shower was off, but he heard no movement. “Darcy?”

  The soft sound wasn’t a reply, but was good enough for him. Stepping inside, he glanced around the big bathroom. Long wide counter, one sink, a wooden chair at the end. A toilet stall. An open-doored shower.

  And there she was. Like a withered flower, she’d weakened and dropped to her knees in the shower. Her hair hung in long black tangles, not quite covering small up-tilted breasts.

  He headed for her and stopped short. Naked. He wouldn’t stick his paw i
n that trap a second time. Snatching up a big towel, he bent and wrapped it around her. By the God, she smelled even more fragrant than a meadow of clover after a rainstorm.

  “Up you come.” As he lifted her to her feet, she clung to his forearm, determinedly trying to stand on her own. Stubborn female.

  “I can help you into the clothes Bree left,” he said. “Or take you back to your room in a towel and tuck you in.”

  “I can do—” Her voice died under the look he gave her.

  “Guess not, huh.” She sighed. “I’m sure not going to walk out there in a towel. Clothes, please.”

  He had to admit he found her low voice damned appealing. It had a furry timbre, as if every word contained a purr.

  After sitting her on the chair, he grabbed another towel. Gently, he squeezed the water out of her hair and patted off her shoulders and back. He handed her the towel to rub over her front…although he wouldn’t have minded drying her breasts himself.

  Even with his courtesy, she blushed.

  “Look how red you get,” he murmured, running a finger over her cheek to see if the color came off.

  Her tiny growl made him grin.

  He helped her into the loose T-shirt, then squatted and dried her legs off. Pretty legs. Too thin, but she had some muscles. She’d get more when they worked on her hunting skills. “Can you stand and dry off…the rest?

  The red increased. Fucking cute, actually.

  He didn’t wait, but pulled her to her feet, and stabilized her as she wielded the towel. Her ass was rounded and tempting. Her pussy was hidden by glossy black curls, and he could scent her lightly feminine musk.

  He had a craving to smell the fragrance of her arousal as well.

  No.

  Surely, he wasn’t interested in this female. In any female.

  He went down on his haunches and held the sweat pants for her. “Hold onto my shoulder and step in, little female.”

  When she did, he pulled the pants up at the same time he rose. “There. All dressed.”

  And still red.

  He ran his finger over her cheek again. The red did make her skin hotter.

  Her eyes narrowed. She sure didn’t seem afraid of him, at all.

  If he teased her, would she scold him in her husky voice like an early-wakened pixie? Tempting, but she was tired. This wasn’t the time. Behave, Treharn.

  Biting the inside of his cheek, he kept his mouth in a straight line, put an arm around her waist, and guided her back to the bedroom. She gave him a suspicious look, but let him help her into bed. Silently, he set the tray on her lap.

  When he left, he was grinning. Herne help him, he hadn’t had so much fun in a couple of moons.

  Chapter Six

  ‡

  The next day, Darcy managed a shower and made it down the stairs all by herself. Her legs wobbled only a bit—a major victory. Now she wanted a nap after her strenuous endeavors, and how pitiful was that?

  She didn’t have time to lie around. There were things to do, beginning with talking the Cosantir into rescuing her villagers. Two-pronged strikes would be the only way. If either the prìosan or the shifter-soldier compound were attacked alone, the Scythe would kill everyone at the other site. She frowned. A simultaneous rescue would require a lot of shifters.

  Still, Calum had a whole territory, so he must have lots of cahirs. And he was powerful himself. Once the prìosan and compound were located, surely he’d send his warriors to free the hostages and soldiers.

  Look, my brothers, I found help! She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling as if she could fly.

  The foot of the stairs opened to a wide sitting area with a couch and chairs grouped around a huge fireplace. Very wilderness rustic, but beautifully done with a high ceiling and gleaming hardwood floors. Red and black Native American blankets and rugs added a cozy warmth. The open design led to the reception area by the front door with rooms off to the left.

  As compelling aromas caught her attention, she turned toward the rear of the building. Bacon. And fresh bread. Her stomach growled. Sniffing as loudly as a dog, she followed her nose past a window-filled dining area and into a huge country kitchen.

  Breanne was making scrambled eggs.

  Darcy’s stomach gurgled loudly enough to catch the curvy blonde’s attention. She laughed. “You’re hungry—and have excellent timing. I was going to bring your breakfast upstairs.”

  Spotting bacon piled on a plate, Darcy stared. “Bacon? For me?”

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone look at bacon as if it were Christmas and Easter rolled into one.” Breanne offered the plate. “You must really love it.”

  Darcy bit into a piece and purred as the flavors filled her mouth. “When I was young, it was our weekend treat.” At twelve, Darcy and the boys had reached the age where they devoured everything in sight, and they could go through a pound in one breakfast. Poor Mum had been looking forward to when they could hunt some of their meals. “I haven’t had any since…since we were captured.”

  When Breanne took the plate of bacon away, Darcy sighed and wished she’d stuffed another piece in her mouth.

  “Why don’t you sit at the table in here?” Breanne scooped the scrambled eggs onto the plate and added buttered toast before giving the plate back. “I’ll have another cup of coffee and keep you company.”

  The plate of food was heavy. “This is all for me?”

  “Sure. Donal told Shay you needed to eat.” Breanne eyed her. “I can see you’re not up to fighting weight, so eat it all, if you can.”

  “Thank you.” So much bacon for her? Darcy sank into the chair and tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

  “What’s wrong?” After handing over a glass of orange juice, Bree poured herself coffee and sat across the table. Her big blue eyes were worried. “Darcy?”

  “My friends back at the prìosan, the other females, they’ll all be eating oatmeal. Since the Scythe won’t waste money on filthy animals, our meals were always the same. Oatmeal for breakfast. Vegetable soup for lunch. Hamburger stew for supper.”

  Bree set her cup down with such a violent thump that coffee sloshed over the sides. “For half your life? I-I don’t know how to say how furious that makes me.” Her face had gone red.

  Darcy stared for a second and then smiled. “I know it sounds strange, but seeing someone else angry is nice.”

  “Be nicer if I could shred some humans.” Grumbling, Bree picked up her cup and wiped the sides with a napkin.

  After two more bacon pieces, Darcy started on the eggs. Best eggs ever. “When Donal healed me, he said birth control pills kept you from trawsfurring.”

  “True. Apparently birth control pills and shifter chemistries don’t go well together,” Bree said.

  “You lived in Seattle?”

  Bree smiled. “I did. Being an orphan, I came here, hoping to find information about my parents. Getting out of the city—and off the pills—let me trawsfur. But I’d never heard of the Daonain, so when I shifted into a wolf, it was a shock to everyone…me most of all.”

  “I can’t even imagine how scared you must have been.” At least Darcy had known who she was. What she was. “Did you move here and never go back to Seattle?”

  “Actually, I did return once, but it was awfully close to being a disaster.” Bree frowned. “Before I left, a hellhound had attacked me, and afterward, it preyed on my apartment complex. A boy lived there who I’d once babysat. It was stupid, but I went back to try to save him and kill the hellhound.”

  Darcy frowned. Weren’t hellhounds horrifically dangerous? Yet how could anyone sit by if she knew a child would die? “Did you save him?”

  “Not the way I’d planned, although the hellhound did die.” Bree’s mouth twisted in a rueful smile. “Zeb almost died, too. He and Shay came after me, even though Calum had ordered us to stay out of the city. I hated the Cosantir so much right then.”

  Darcy stiffened. “But…why would the Cosantir forbid you to go to Se
attle?”

  “Because the Daonain survive only because humans don’t realize we exist.” Bree shook her head. “I understood, mostly, but I’d never imagined an entire town of shifters could be attacked. Or how horrible it must have been. I’m so sorry, Darcy.”

  Houses burning. Bodies in the streets. Caged in a basement. Her mum dragged into the laboratory. Dying there. “My village was called Dogwood.” Named after a grove of the white flowering trees. She’d only lived there long enough to see them bloom once. Now even the name of the village was dead.

  Her breakfast had lost its appeal, and the eggs tasted like ash. Darcy set her fork down. “Calum thought humans might discover the Daonain just because you went to Seattle?”

  “He had reasons, I’m afraid. Cities are full of people and cameras, and a person turning into a wolf—or bear or cougar—would be impossible to cover up. I was a new shifter with untested control.”

  Darcy scowled. She was a very new shifter and probably had atrocious control. “Why didn’t he send Zeb and Shay? They look incredibly strong.”

  “Humans aren’t a Daonain concern, especially ones who don’t live in a territory.” Bree sighed. “And cities make shifters weak. Herne’s power doesn’t extend outside his territories, so the cahirs don’t have their added strength.”

  “Oh.” Darcy forced herself to finish the eggs, swallowing past the tightness in her throat. Her dreams of an army storming the prìosan and the shifter-soldier compound were sputtering to a stop like an electric motor in the rain.

  “Our territories are filled with females and vulnerable cubs. Calum couldn’t risk our people to save a few humans, especially humans who weren’t in his guardianship.”

  The Dogwood villagers were shifters but not in Calum’s territory. Dogwood had been in Mt. Hood Territory in Oregon, and she’d never met the Cosantir there. Would either Cosantir take the risk of rescuing the captured villagers?

  The dangers were real. Darcy stared down at the table, imagining the black vans driving into village after village. Like in Dogwood. Human soldiers pouring through the streets, shooting their lethal weapons. Snarling horribly, a male falling, blood soaking the front of his shirt. In the street, gory, tangled remnants of people. Over the shouting sounded children’s high, piercing screams. Everywhere, there was only death and burning buildings.