Two more came at him from opposite directions, and he battled them back, striking one's hand from his arm and thrusting his blade deep through the other's heart, likely killing him. Some sane corner of his mind knew he was losing it. The berserker was beginning to surface. The berserker always came first, followed by the shift that would send him flying off in his bird to goddess-knew-where. Deeper into the Sahara? He had to reach Faith before that happened!

Faith continued to fight, her strength superior to her opponents', one-on-one, but there were three of them. Why was she fighting them if she was being controlled by Mage magic?

Hawke reached the first of the men, running a blade through his soulless heart. The wind whipped harder, sending the sand flaying his face, his arms, destroying visibility. Faith tripped the other and began to run, her tread surprisingly light on the shifting sands. He lopped off the head of her second attacker, spilling blood into the sand, and took off after her, struggling to run. He'd never catch her!

The Earth began to quake under his feet, Mother Nature thoroughly angry, now. The sand began to swirl dangerously fast.

The red haze pulsed into his vision, turning the sand to blood. Fury consumed him, the hawk jerking away the last of his control. He was losing it!

Through the roar of the blasting sand and the yelling, he heard Kougar shout, "Get us out of here!"

Once more he tumbled through nothingness, then found himself on his knees in the predawn gray of the backyard of Feral House, retching his guts out.

"Faith?" Hawke called when he was able.

"She's here." Kougar's voice.

Lightning bolted through his head, a fiery pain that radiated to all corners of his skull followed, as always, by the hawk's cry. Talons tore into his brain with a ferocity that, if real, would have left his brain leaking out his ears as a bloody pulp. The agony . . .

He couldn't breathe, couldn't think as his mind went momentarily blank but for the white-hot pain. Tearing, ripping, bleeding, misery. He forgot to count, couldn't think, could only survive.

"Easy, buddy." Kougar gripped his shoulder. "What's happening?"

Finally, finally, the talons eased off, the searing pain slowly receding until he could think again. Until he could breathe. "Nothing."

"Right." Kougar didn't believe him.

Hawke struggled to his feet, searching for Faith. Between the motion sickness and his bird's attack, he felt beaten and bruised, but he hadn't shifted. A hell of a way to stop an unintended shift, but he wasn't complaining.

Around the yard, others rose unsteadily, Faith in the middle of them. But even as he found her, she leaped to her feet and took off running, faster than any human . . . or immortal, for that matter . . . should be able to run.

"We'll get her," a soft Ilina voice murmured, and, moments later, Faith was once more on her knees, retching beside him.

Lyon joined him. "We have no choice but to lock her up."

"No."

"Give me another option."

Hawke wished he had one. At least a good one. "Handcuff her to me. She won't go anywhere."

"And if you shift?"

They'd both be gone. No cuffs would hold him in his animal. And he couldn't use the Mage wristbands they now had on Faith. They'd tried that when they first realized his problem, but he'd gone berserk, crazed with a fury that wasn't his. It had taken three of his brothers to take him down.

If he shifted, Faith would run. He knew that, now. And his control was too precarious at the moment. In truth, someone else needed to be guarding her. His animal screeched in fury at the thought of others manhandling her as she fought them. Or defending themselves from her, for that matter.

Faith started to rise, and Hawke grabbed her by the upper arms before she could get away from him again, igniting a storm of kicking feet and slashing claws. He turned her away from him, then bear-hugged her, pinning her arms against her sides so she couldn't continue the attack.

This wasn't going to work. "All right," he told Lyon. "She stays in the prison until we cure her." He turned to Kougar. "What in the hell happened out there?"

"The Mage erected some kind of barrier around the cave, or maybe that entire portion of the Sahara. The moment the Ilinas hit the barrier, they turned corporeal. We all fell out of the sky, right into a Mage ambush. Fortunately, the Ilinas recovered quickly and were able to get us back out of there before we suffered any casualties." He lifted an eyebrow. "The same can't be said for the Mage."

Hawke didn't feel an ounce of remorse for his part in that. "They were trying to capture Faith."

"How did the Mage know about the cave?" Lyon demanded. "How did they know you were on your way there?"

Kougar stroked his beard. "I'm wondering if the infection might be acting as some kind of tracking system for the new Ferals."

Lyon looked at Faith. "Then the sooner we get her cured, the better."

Kougar nodded. "Ariana and the Shaman are working on a way to bypass or destroy the Mage barrier. Meanwhile . . ." He turned to Hawke. "I'll help you get her downstairs."

It took both of them to drag a fighting, kicking Faith down the long stairs and through the basement to the prisons without hurting her.

"She's strong," Kougar murmured, righting himself from one of Faith's leg swipes that nearly knocked him off balance. "Not unexpected - we all get stronger with the animal. But Vhyper's right. She really could be a secret weapon. No enemy is going to expect strength like this from a 125-pound female. Of any race."

They reached the prisons and shoved her into one of the cells, slamming the door closed before she could whirl on them and try to fight her way out.

Feral and snarling, her claws clicking against the steel bars, she growled, shaking the bars. "Let me go!"

Hawke hated seeing her like this, locked up. Crazed. And yet . . . there was something . . . arousing . . . about the unadulterated wildness in her.

"Where, Faith?" Hawke asked quietly. "Where do you want to go?"

"To Maxim! I belong to him."

"Maxim hurt you!"

"Let me go!"

"He hurt you, Faith. You have to remember. What did he do to you? Did he rape you? Did he cut you? Did he use those fangs . . ."

Something flared in her eyes. Pain.

Ah, goddess. "He hurt you with those saber teeth, didn't he?"

A violent tremble went through her. "The shower." The words were a growl. "He bit me, impaled me in the shower so the blood would wash away. So no one would know."

His knees nearly gave way beneath him as the image blasted his mind. Sweet Faith enduring such torture in horrible silence. He'd known the bastard was hurting her. He'd known!

But Sweet Faith wasn't here anymore. Not now. The feral woman in the cage watched him, eyes once more blazing as she rattled the cage. "Let me go!"

Kkkeeeeer! His animal was furious, his rage melding with the man's. Hawke raked fingers into his hair, his teeth grinding as he fought to control the fury. He'd die before he ever let that madman near her again.

"Hawke." Kougar's hand landed on his shoulder, but he barely felt it.

Wisps of red haze began curling around the edges of his vision. He hated this. Hated that she struggled to return to the bastard who'd hurt her, caught in the grip of Mage magic. Daemon magic. And he, who loved her beyond measure, couldn't touch her, couldn't hold her because of the bars that separated them.

"Put me in there with her." His bird let out a cry of agreement.

Kougar watched him thoughtfully. "That's not a good idea, Hawke. If you shift into your bird, she could kill you. We have to believe Maxim's ordered her to do just that."

"Do it. My animal wants it. I want it."

"Hawke . . ."

He went feral, turning on his friend, holding back . . . barely . . . from clawing him. "Do it."

Again, Kougar studied him for several seconds before slowly stepping forward to unlock Faith's cell. Hawke followed. The moment Kougar unlocked the door, Faith lunged for the opening, but Hawke was ready for that. He met her, colliding with her as he pushed her back into the cell, away from the door that clanged shut behind him.

Fangs and claws drawn, she attacked him as any of his brothers would in a good feral wrestling match - slashing claws down his cheek, across his chest, ripping at the flesh of his shoulder with her fangs until blood splattered her face and hair, the drops of red turning her blue-tipped locks purple. She was a wild woman, untamed. Magnificent. The animal inside him welcomed the fight, urged him to join her in the wildness, to revel in it as he'd done in the days before the spirit trap had made battle of any kind a dangerous business. But this wasn't one of his Feral brothers looking for a fight. It was Faith. His sweet Smiley.

The man recoiled at the thought of hurting her. But the man was losing control, red haze growing at the edges of his vision. He pushed it back, suddenly afraid that he'd made a mistake in joining her in here. A growl ripped from his throat as the wildness overpowered him, and he turned on her. Aware, but in little control, he drew claws on her and ripped her clothes from her body, then tore off his own. The wildness screamed for a battle of a different kind.

Not like this! Not like this! His man's brain railed at what he feared he was about to do even as the last of his control slipped away.

Faith grunted as Hawke body-slammed her back against the wall. She slashed out with her claws, raking new furrows in his cheek to replace the ones that had already healed.

Blood. Hurt him.

No!

Thoughts tried to break through the thick fog that had become her mind. She was acting on instinct, fighting that instinct. Driven by forces not her own.

He threw her to the ground, though she barely felt the collision, then he stood over her, poised for one brilliant moment like a barbarian of old, his body sculpted with muscle, his shoulders broad, his cock hard and thick, protruding like a weapon. His arms hung away from his body as if ready to attack, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths, his eyes burning with battle and lust.

Her body burst into flame in answer, damp heat pooling between her thighs. She wanted battle. This battle.

Her legs parted, offering him what they both wanted, and he fell on her, taking her in a single hard thrust that shot her straight into orgasm. Claws out, she raked at his back, and he roared and bit her shoulder with his fangs. Pain exploded, and she reveled in it as he drove into her, pounding her with his body, burying himself over and over.

Not enough.

She reached down and grabbed his buttocks, thrusting herself against him, driving him deeper.

Darkness, haze, pain, lust.

Ecstasy.

Over and over and over again, she came, the orgasms crashing over her, the violence that was driving her finding an outlet in this most ancient of battles.

She felt him shudder his release. From a distance, she felt him pull away.

No! More. More blood. More sex. More!

She sat up and struck out, but he caught her wrist in an iron grip. Then her other.

In her head, a bird began to cry out as if in pain. A soft female voice broke through the violent fog. He's breaking.

"What have I done?" Hawke knelt between her knees, holding her as she struggled, horror in his eyes as his gaze tore over her. "What have I done to you?"

The falcon cried out in her head, slicing away the fog, pulling her into the light. The violence that had consumed her lost its grip, and, slowly, Faith came back to herself. Taking deep, unsteady breaths, she found herself caught fast in Hawke's hold. She stared at the blood streaking his face, shoulder, and chest. My God, did I do this to him?

Through the bird's cries, knowledge flowed into her head. Hawke's damaged connection with his animal was shattering. They were going to lose him here, now, if she didn't pull him back.

The violent need to hurt him barreled through her, then receded, pushed back by the will of the falcon. Ally. Partner. The thoughts sank into her head.

Save Hawke. This hawk. Need him.

Ours.

Pushing past that alien need for violence, Faith reached for him, pressing her palms to his face. "Hawke." A distant bird's cry filled her mind. Not the falcon's. The hawk's?

Hawke's gaze was unfocused, his eyes filled with a pain the darkness reveled in, a pain that sliced her heart to shreds. At the push of the falcon, she slid her hands higher, pressing her palms to his temples. The screeching exploded until she gasped from the sound of it. As she held the man, the falcon flew into that maelstrom and, through sheer force of will, began to calm it.

Faith kissed Hawke's cheek gently. "Look at me."

Glazed eyes lifted, confusion and relief warring with the horror. "Faith. You're back." He pulled her into his arms. "I hurt you. Goddess, I hurt you."

"No." She kept her palms pressed against his temples. The falcon needed her to, though how she knew that, she wasn't sure. "I wanted it rough. I needed it rough, and you gave it to me. We were both caught up in that storm. You didn't hurt me."

He tipped his forehead to hers, a shudder going through his body. "I'm glad." His hand slid up her side and back down again. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to help you. Hawke, I'm fighting the darkness, but it could win again at any moment. It's pounding in my head, the drive, the demand to escape. To hurt you! But the falcon is helping me. You need my help. Your connection with the hawk is shattering. He's furious."

"Tell me something I don't know. He blames me for getting us caught in that spirit trap."

"That's not it. That's not the problem."