Passion Untamed

"What are you going to do to him?" Foxx asked with a bored drawl. Paenther turned to study the young Feral he'd known for three years, still trying to figure out if he were merely being controlled by evil or if he had in fact been turned. At the moment, though, it didn't seem to matter. Not unless Foxx was one hell of an actor. Because he seemed utterly in league with Birik. "Are you going to kill him?"



"Kill him? No. I'm merely taking his soul. I have three Ferals at my disposal now. When they catch the jaguar, I'll have four. I'd never believed catching all the Ferals was a possibility, but I'm beginning to realize, your foolish loyalty to one another might make it ridiculously easy. As long as I have you, the others will come to me. And when I have you all, and have taken all your souls, you'll open the Daemon blade the way it was meant to be opened and free Satanan once and for all."



Like hell. But he was right. The Ferals were loyal to a fault. The others would mount rescue attempt after rescue attempt until they succeeded or were all caught. Just as the seventeen had all those years ago, and died, their animals never to return. It wasn't in the nature of a Feral to abandon his friends and brothers. And it was that very loyalty that would be their undoing.



The pain began to swirl in his head, a strange-colored fog encasing his mind and body. Sharp, invisible hooks dug into him, pulling. He found Skye, locked his gaze with hers, holding on against the magical forces trying to remove his soul.



Pain and fear for him bled from her eyes.



With a swift and terrible understanding he knew the moment he lost his soul his love for her, for anything, would die. He'd hurt her as he became a tool of evil, a weapon against the men he'd sacrifice his life to protect.



His body would continue to live and to kill, but the man he was, the man capable of love and sacrifice, would die.



As the pain overtook him, he yelled to the heavens, pouring out his rage and despair.



Skye stumbled to her feet, her wounds nearly healed, her heart crumbling beneath the weight of the terrible crime Birik was perpetrating on the man she loved. On the Ferals. On the world.



Vhyper stood well behind Birik, now, a man with a cold, emotionless face, his hands clasped behind his back.



Skye went to him.



"He loves you," she said quietly. Desperately. "He risked everything to come back here to save you."



"He's a fool," Vhyper said coldly. But something flickered in his eyes. "There's nothing I can do." His voice was different, warmer, filled with pain. The good man.



Risking everything, she gripped his arm. "You're the only one who can save him, Vhyper. Ancreta made you what you are. She caused the injury inside you that let the Mage get their claws into you. Now they're going to destroy Paenther."



Vhyper's gaze looked elsewhere, but the fact he hadn't shaken her off or hit her gave her hope he was listening. But listening wasn't enough.



"Vincent!"



His gaze snapped to hers, a look of terrible struggle in his eyes.



"Don't let Ancreta win, Vincent!"



Skye saw the moment the cold rushed back into Vhyper's eyes, dousing the humanity. With a casual flick of his wrist, he backhanded her, sending her slamming against the wall. She slid to the floor, her head pounding, her body aching. But she felt the creature inside Vhyper rear up, hissing and spitting. Not at her. At something within him. An invisible foe. A battle between good and evil in its purest form raged inside the viper shape-shifter, each seeking possession of his body. His mind. His soul.



She tried to rise, but her head spun dizzily, and she sank back to the floor and crawled close to him, trying to murmur the words to give him power, but they wouldn't come!



Paenther! But Paenther was no longer in his animal form and couldn't hear her telepathically. If she called to him out loud, she'd only attract Birik's attention to herself and possibly to the battle going on inside Vhyper.



Her head and body aching, she struggled to her feet, where Paenther could see her. Where she might be able to catch his eye and beg his help.



But when his gaze turned toward her, his eyes held no warmth, no love. Only pain.



And the cold emptiness of the soulless.



Chapter Twenty-five



The cold that rushed through Paenther as the evil spread over his heart was sharp and biting, but wondrous. A frigid cleansing that rid him of doubts and worry, of guilt and sorrow and conscience.



His body bled with pain at the transformation, but it was the pain of rebirth, and he exulted in it.



Behind Birik, Skye rose, her gaze clinging to him, boring into him. In a voice so soft, only a Feral would hear, she whispered to him.



"Paenther, I need the words. Help me save Vhyper! Help me save you!"



Why would he want to be saved?



"Paenther, give me the words!"



She needed the chant. But the chant gave her power.



"I love you, Paenther."



What difference did it make how she felt about him? The old Paenther was gone. The reborn Paenther had no need for love.



But deep inside his slowly hardening heart, a fire flared. A desperate love. A fierce need to help her. The fire battled back the cold that tried to encase his heart. And suddenly he was saying the words, his voice ringing through the cavern.



Birik shouted. "Cease! Stop him."



Skye grabbed Vhyper's arm, her mouth moving to the words as she whispered them along with him. Her face contorted with pain, her pain fueling the battle inside him, strengthening his resolve to hold on, to fight for her. For Vhyper. For his own soul. Discord rippled through the evil, as he felt the battle raging inside Vhyper even as he was consumed by a battle of his own with Skye's power struggling to save them both.



"Stop him!" Birik yelled a second time.



"He'll stop on his own," one of the sorcerers said. "Once we have his soul."



Birik whirled on Skye instead. He grabbed her from behind, slamming her jaw closed as he pulled her away from Vhyper.



Paenther felt the cold surge inside him, the evil pulling at him, tearing him apart at the most fundamental level. Darkness swirled around his head, but he continued to chant, clinging tenaciously to Skye. She was all that kept him tethered. All that gave him the might he needed to hold on.



But he was losing. The chanting went silent as the words would no longer come.



Through the dark fog, he saw lights flash and sparkle. Where Vhyper had stood, now sat a great snake, growing by the second until it was the width of a man and five times as long.



The snake slithered across the floor, coiling and rising beside the sorcerers. As the darkness closed in on him, the snake rose, his eyes pinning Paenther. And in those eyes, he saw pain and joy, grief and love. He saw his friend.



The snake struck lightning fast, tearing off the heads of two of the sorcerers before they could move. The third ran.



For one searing moment, Panther thought it was too late, then warmth rushed in, dispelling the cold as the invisible bonds disappeared. In a rush of dizziness, he fell to one knee. And felt his soul tumble back into place.



Vhyper's voice, warm and rich with the deep bond of brotherhood, whispered in his mind. The head or the heart, B.P.? Birik is going down.



Paenther looked up with a fierce grin. The heart. Welcome back, Vhype.



He called on the power within him and shifted into his cat's form in a burst of pain and furious joy, then leaped to Vhyper's side.



The snake let out a hissing sound Paenther knew well. A viper's battle cry. We're getting out of this together, B.P. Now, let's do it!



"Capture them!" Birik yelled.



As the sentinels drew their swords, Skye's voice rang in his head, ringing with excitement and love. Paenther, help me say the chant again!



Paenther's gaze swung to Skye, loving her with his panther's eyes. He said the words as he leaped at Birik, Vhyper at his side. Skye chanted loudly, her voice ringing over the stone as she raised her unique power and sent a blast at the sentinels, knocking them back. He felt her pain, heard it in her voice, but his witch was at heart a stubborn little fighter, and she kept the guards at bay.



Birik tried to run for the door, but Paenther leaped on him, taking him down. As he sank his teeth into the bastard's chest, the great snake bit off his head. Paenther pulled out Birik's heart and ate it.



Beneath him the ground began to shake. Chaos erupted in the room as the Mage fled, sprinting for the door. Paenther shifted back into his human form and ran for Skye.



She flew at him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he gathered her tight against him.



"You're okay," she whispered.



The sound of battle erupted behind them. Animal battle. Paenther set Skye on her feet and pushed her behind him as he whirled to find Jag and Foxx fighting as no Ferals should, going for one another's throats. Mortal combat. Jag's fur was soaked with blood where the huge fox had taken a chunk out of his neck. Part of Foxx's face had already been torn away. Each was fighting for his life.



"Foxx!"



But the fox ignored him.



I tried to stop him from leaving, Jag said. He attacked me again. His eyes are empty, B.P. There's nobody home.



"Wait here," Paenther told Skye, but as he prepared to shift, Vhyper struck the fox, six-inch-long fangs burying deep in the animal's hindquarters.



Almost at once, the fox fell back, shifting to a man as he hit the floor. A chunk of rock fell from the ceiling not far away, crashing and splintering as the ground shook even harder.



Paenther grabbed Skye, shielding her in case anything else fell. "We've got to get out of here."



Vhyper and Jag both shifted back into men as Paenther and Skye joined them. At their feet, Foxx lay groaning, twisting in pain.



He looked up at them, his gaze locking on Paenther's. A gaze as cold as any he'd ever seen. Soulless.



"Vhyper...was right." Foxx's face twisted with pain. "All this time...didn't know. The Mage's weapon and...I didn't know."



Paenther looked at Vhyper. "How bad?"



"The poison? A lethal dose."



Paenther stared at his friend, then nodded and looked down at Foxx. "I'm sorry, Cub." And, goddess, he was. The kid had shown some real promise. He could have been a damn fine Feral once he matured. Once more the Mage had cut off a promising life before it had a chance to bloom. "It shouldn't have ended this way."



Foxx opened his mouth as if to speak, then said nothing as his body relaxed, his head lolling to the side.



"He's gone," Skye said quietly.



A massive stalactite dropped from the roof and shattered, spraying them with stinging bits of limestone.



"Out," Paenther said. "Now."



Vhyper lifted Foxx in his arms as Paenther shielded Skye.



"Where's that Daemon blade?" Jag asked.



Vhyper shook his head. "The last time I saw it, it was sitting between the two circles."



As they reached the door, Paenther turned right, but Skye pulled against him, fighting him.



"This isn't the way out?" he asked her.



"It is. But I have to get Faithful. Go with Vhyper. I'll meet you outside."



"Like hell. Who's Faithful?"



"One of my deer. I have to save my deer."



"Skye..."



"I'm not leaving them in here to die!"



Jag grabbed her arm, but his gaze met Paenther's. "I'm going after the blade. I'll bring the deer."



"I'll go with you..." Paenther began, and cut off as a chunk of ceiling nearly crashed on top of them. He hauled Skye out of the way barely in time.



"Go, B.P.! Get her out of here."



"You've got three minutes, Jag, then I'm coming after you."



"Deal."



Vhyper led the way out of the caverns and into near-hurricane-force winds and driving rain. Mother Nature was furious, but Skye could hardly care. Paenther was alive, Birik dead, Vhyper saved. Now if only Jag, Faithful, and the other deer made it out alive.



Paenther held her tight against his chest as cold rain lashed her body. She glanced at Vhyper as he held Foxx, his gaze searching the forest. No longer was he the cold, casually cruel Feral she'd known in the caverns. But the dark, swirling intensity she felt in him made him seem every bit as dangerous. Inside him, she could feel the snake, coiled and agitated, but she didn't think it had anything to do with her this time.



"Do you see any sign of them?" Paenther asked.



"None. The Mage may be soulless, but they're not stupid. There's nothing more for them here."



"Three minutes," Paenther said softly, as if to himself. "Then I want you to take Skye and get out of here, Vhype. She can lead you to the others."



"No," Skye said. "I have to see Faithful."



Paenther stroked her, the cold rain sliding between their naked bodies. "We're not going to have room in the car for a deer, Beauty."



"I wouldn't take her from her family. I just need to know she made it. I need to say good-bye."



Vhyper laid Foxx on the ground and stripped him, tossing Paenther the clothes. "You need these more than he does."



Paenther slipped Foxx's shirt over Skye's head, a soft cotton dress shirt that fell nearly to her knees, then pulled on the pants and boots for himself.



Beneath them, the ground rumbled and shook. "Get her off this mountain, Vhyper, before it implodes."



But Skye shook her head. Deep inside she could feel the pull of the animals. "Jag's coming." As the Feral cleared the entrance to the cave with four deer, elation flared inside her. It was done, and they'd all made it. Except Foxx.



Skye pulled away from Paenther and ran to Jag as he led the deer by the ends of their tethers. He might be holding them by the ends of ropes, but she noted with interest that Faithful was pressing as tightly against him as she usually did her. Which was extraordinary, really, considering the man was part predatory cat.