Goddess, this woman was turning him inside out. Watching her with her brother had ripped his heart out. Hearing her sobs, even if they’d been of joy and not sorrow, had utterly slain him.
Then she’d kissed him.
His hand itched to reach for hers again. His arm tensed with the need to curl around her shoulders and pull her close, but he wouldn’t do that. Not when she was steady on her feet again and no longer needed him. She might have kissed him, but he knew a peck of gratitude when he felt it. If he tried to draw her close for no reason other than that he couldn’t think of anything more wonderful than holding her close, she’d probably stiffen, then pull away. Nicely, of course. He didn’t think Natalie knew how to do anything except nicely. But they’d both be left feeling intensely uncomfortable, and he didn’t want that.
As they strode through the foyer, side by side, Natalie’s soft scent wafted to his sensitive nose and he drank it in, feeling it slide through him, warming him, settling into his blood, his chest, calming him. Her scent reminded him of wild roses beneath a summer sun—at once lovely, warm, and tenacious. Being near her was like walking into an errant shaft of sunlight on a cold, overcast day. Or like stepping into cool shade in the middle of a summer scorcher. It made him sigh, deep inside. It made him feel good all the way to his soul. His wolf agreed, giving a low bark of satisfaction.
As they neared Lyon’s office, Natalie gasped, her hand flying to her cheek.
“What’s the matter?” Wulfe asked.
She shook her head, then slowly relaxed again. “It’s nothing.”
He peered at her doubtfully, but she seemed to be okay, so he turned forward and opened the door to Lyon’s office. He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of Lyon’s desk, and she did, moving with that innate grace of hers to settle onto the chair, her back straight, her hands in her lap, her expression calm and alert, as always, despite the fact that he knew she was still shaking.
His instincts told him to stand behind her, to protect her back, even though he knew Lyon would never make a move against her without discussing it with Wulfe first. Lyon didn’t work that way. The Chief of the Ferals was ruthless only when he had no choice, and, in all things, utterly fair. But before Wulfe could take his place behind Natalie, the healer, Esmeria, headed him off, gliding forward to meet him with a sound of sympathetic dismay. Wulfe stood still, just inside the door, as the Therian healer pressed her hand to the wound on his shoulder, closed her eyes, and slowly stole the pain.
As he submitted to Esmeria’s ministrations, Wulfe’s gaze moved to Lyon where he sat behind the large desk that dominated the room. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves covered the walls except for the space occupied by the hearth, where Paenther stood. Tighe propped one hip on the corner of Lyon’s desk and waited.
Lyon rose and held out his hand to Natalie. “I’m Lyon, Natalie. Chief of the Ferals. We met weeks ago though you don’t remember.”
Natalie shook his hand. “I’m pleased to meet you . . . again.”
Paenther stepped forward, his black hair swinging forward to partly obscure the feral marks across his eye. “I’m Paenther, the black panther shifter and Lyon’s second-in-command.”
She nodded, shook his hand, and settled back onto her chair, her posture slightly less tense than before. Humans generally responded well to shows of respect and friendliness, and Wulfe appreciated Lyon and Paenther taking the time to show her both.
Lyon’s gaze turned to Wulfe. “What happened?”
Esmeria moved behind him, and Wulfe stepped forward, allowing her access to the wounds on his back. “Ten Mage sentinels kicked in Natalie’s front door. Inir had ordered them to bring us . . . both of us . . . to him alive.”
“Why?” Paenther asked with a frown.
“How did Inir know you were there?” Lyon asked at the same time.
“I don’t know. On Inir’s mountain last week, Satanan sensed me. I’m wondering if he always knows where I am, now.”
Lyon frowned. “So they waited until you were far from Feral House before trying to take you. Why Natalie?”
“No idea.”
“Did you kill them?”
“The ten who breached the house. Unfortunately, the front door was kicked in and there was no fixing it before we left. We need to send a cleanup crew before the humans find it.”
“I know where the house is,” Tighe said. “I’ll go.”
Lyon nodded. As Tighe rose to leave, Lyon turned to Wulfe. “More sentinels came after you later.”
“They followed us into the woods, more than two dozen of them. Either the first group jumped the gun and attacked us without waiting for their backup, or the Mage are stationed close enough to Frederick that Inir was able to send reinforcements quickly. Within about an hour.”
“They knew you’d go back there.” Lyon sighed. “Until we know why they want you both, Natalie stays here.”
“I agree.”
Lyon turned to Natalie. “I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to lock you up.”
Natalie jerked.
Wulfe’s muscles bunched, a hard no burning in his throat. Deep inside, his wolf leaped up, snarling. “You can’t put her in the prisons, Roar. Not again. Not when we’ve got men down there that we’re not sure about.”
“Wulfe . . .”
He slammed his fist on Lyon’s desk. “She doesn’t deserve the prison again!”
“She was never down there because she deserved it.” Lyon sank back onto his chair wearily. “If she gets away from you and shares what she’s seen with other humans, the result could be catastrophic, especially with the human cops already stumped by the deaths and disappearances of her companions last month. You know that. I can’t risk it.”
Dammit. He knew Lyon was right. Still . . . what if . . . ? “She doesn’t have to be locked up in the prisons.” Enthusiasm quickened Wulfe’s speech. “Natalie can stay in the bedroom between yours and mine. I’ll put locks on the windows and on the outside of the door. She’ll be comfortable. And if she needs anything, I’ll hear her.”
“I thought we had Guards staying in that room.”
“They can sleep on pallets in the living room with the rest of them.”
For several moments, Lyon met his gaze, silently considering Wulfe’s words. After six hundred years of working together, Wulfe knew his chief well.
With a sigh, Lyon ran his hand across the back of his neck. “She’s your responsibility. I want you, another Feral, or one of the stronger women with her any time she’s out of that room, no exceptions. And I don’t want her anywhere near electronic devices—computers, phones, etc.”
The coiled tension in Wulfe’s body eased. “Thank you.”
Lyon turned a hard, uncompromising gaze on Natalie. “You must understand, we don’t kill humans without cause, but we will destroy anyone who threatens the anonymity of the immortal races. When we first realized that Xavier was blind, and his memories of us couldn’t be stolen, I wanted him put to death.”
Natalie stiffened, and it was all Wulfe could do not to put his hand on her shoulder and promise her he’d protect them both, now.
Lyon folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “You know what would happen if the press, human law enforcement, or the military found out about us. At best, we’d be run out. More likely, we’d be attacked with weapons that can destroy even immortals. And if we die, the Daemons rise. It’s as simple as that. And then it’s game over for both of our races. Until we can figure out what was done to you, reverse it, then steal your memories of all you’ve seen, we can’t send you home, and we can’t let you escape. The risk is too great.”
“And if you can’t figure it out?” Natalie asked, her voice even and professional, despite everything. “Or you can’t reverse it?”
“Let’s take it one step at a time. But you must understand that if you betray us in any way . . .”
“If I betray you, you’ll kill me. I understand.”
Wulfe’s muscles bunched, a low growl rumbling in his throat.
Lyon glanced his way but didn’t deny it. “We’ll have no choice. What’s more,” he said, turning back to Natalie. “If we’re forced to take your life, we’ll instantly lose your brother’s loyalty, and we’ll no longer be able to trust him either. So both of your lives are in your hands.”
Natalie was silent for a moment before finally nodding. “You’ve made your point.”
“Good.”
Esmeria circled Wulfe one more time, eyeing him critically. “Did I get them all?”
Wulfe nodded. “Thank you, Esmeria.” He opened the door for her, then closed it again after she left.
“Go,” Lyon said, glancing from Wulfe to Natalie and back again. “Get the locks installed on that bedroom and get some sleep. Both of you.”
Natalie rose from her chair and faced the Chief of the Feral Warriors. “Thank you for sparing Xavier’s life, Lyon. Thank you for sparing both of ours. I won’t betray you.” She held out her hand to seal their bargain.
Lyon eyed her thoughtfully as he shook her hand. “Your brother is a good person, Natalie. The better I get to know him, the more certain of that I become. It would seem the trait runs in the family.”
“Thank you.”
As Wulfe ushered Natalie out of Lyon’s office, he glanced back and met his chief’s gaze, reading the unspoken warning clear in Lyon’s eyes. Don’t fuck this up. If he did, if Natalie found a way to escape with her brother in tow—because he knew she’d never leave without him—all their lives might be over. He wasn’t going to let that happen.
Chapter Seven
Wulfe opened the door and stepped back, allowing Natalie to precede him into the hallway. Despite Lyon’s warnings, or perhaps because of them, the feel of Wulfe at her back sent a frisson of warmth stealing through her veins. There was safety in that warmth, and goodness. And something more.
“Wulfe,” Lyon called after him. “Send in one of the Guards. They can be emptying the room while you install the locks.”
A pair of Guards overheard the command and one of them nodded to Wulfe and went to join Lyon.
As they crossed the mammoth foyer, Natalie considered Lyon’s words. If he’d meant to scare her, he’d succeeded. His was no idle threat, she knew that in her gut . . . a gut that felt like it had been filled with cement. Xavier’s warning made sense, now. There was honor in these males, and goodness. She was fairly sure of that. But they were warriors, first. Soldiers battling an enemy who could not be allowed to win. If she and Xavier got in the way, they’d be removed. As simple as that. Collateral damage.
She understood the ways of war, understood that sometimes a few had to be sacrificed to protect the many. The Ferals wouldn’t hurt them if they had a choice. And she’d do nothing to betray them, just as she’d promised. But with her glowing like a nuclear reactor, they might not have that choice, no matter what she did.
Agitation simmered low in her blood even as she fought it back. She might not be able to control her glow. But she could accept her fate, cooperate, and pray it was enough to keep Xavier and her alive.
As they started down another hallway, Wulfe stopped and opened a door, revealing a stairwell that looked as if it disappeared deep beneath the Earth.
Natalie eyed the long flight of stairs warily. “Is this where you sleep?”
“My room’s on the third floor. This is the way to the workroom, with the tools and spare locks.” He motioned her forward. “I’m right behind you.”
Taking a deep breath, she started down, her head beginning to feel unattached. Never could she remember feeling so physically and emotionally drained. No, that wasn’t true. She’d felt worse in the days after her release, when she’d feared Xavier might really be dead. But there was no denying she’d experienced shock after shock tonight. And her mind and body wanted nothing more than to simply shut down.
“Wulfe, how long until we know if Tighe got to my house before the police?”
“Let me check.”
She glanced over her shoulder to find him pulling a phone out of his back pocket. A moment later, Tighe’s voice filled the stairwell.
“Hey, buddy.”
“You’re on speaker, Tighe. I’m with Natalie. Are you there?”
“We are. You left a bit of a mess. Nice work.”
A hint of a smile flitted across Wulfe’s face as his gaze met hers. “The situation’s contained?”
“Best I can tell. There were no humans around when we got here, and while I’m not the best tracker, I circled the house in cat form and didn’t catch fresh scent of any humans in the yard other than Natalie. We’ve got the place warded, now, so no one will see any blood if they do pay the place a visit. Melisande and her mist warriors have already disposed of the bodies.”
“Good. Thanks, Stripes.” Wulfe shoved the phone back in his pocket and glanced at her. “Feel better?”
“Yes. Very.” She turned and continued down the stairs. No one would find the blood or the bodies in her house. But when she failed to show up for work, people were bound to fear the worst. “Wulfe, I know Lyon said to keep me away from phones, but it would help both of us if I could make a couple of calls to cover my tracks. One to my mom, the other to my office manager. Think of the firestorm my disappearing again will create in the media.” Her mom didn’t deserve that. Nor did she want her patients making the trip to her office only to be turned away.
