Bayon/Jean-Baptiste (Bayou Heat) (21 page)

Clock starts now, Miss Burel
.

He yowled at a few black puma Hunters on patrol near the edge of the yellow cow lily-strewn bayou. They returned his call, and he continued on, weaving in and out of a stand of oak, catching the scents of Hunters and Suits among the pitcher plants and wild bee balm as he headed for town. Though his heart hurt like a motherfucker, he wanted to check on Ashe, Raphael, and on Isi. See what progress was being made. See if the voodoun was awake and plotting his demise.

The village was buzzing like the cave-top hive he’d stumbled upon as a cub when he broke through a patch of anise shrub. Must be close to evening meal, Jean-Baptiste thought, heading down one of the side streets. The Pantera pumas were all shifting into their human forms, waving goodbye to friends, rushing out of shops, making their way toward their residences. Baptiste spotted the clinic ahead and picked up speed. A few pumas, still in their cat forms, jumped out of his way, hissing, but Baptiste didn’t slow. Already up the steps and inside, he headed for his office, a place he’d hardly been in the last few months. He’d claimed to be either ill or working from home. He hadn’t wanted to risk a problem with his cat. But he didn’t have that problem anymore, did he? he mused, bursting into the lab. Not since Genevieve.

His lip curled and his cat purred. Damn, he missed her already. Maybe he should’ve insisted on going with her to see the elders, letting the three ancient females know just to whom their new recruit belonged. But he was trying not to be a possessive bastard. Trying to let her come to the realization that they belonged together on her own.

Of course, he wouldn’t wait long.

Twenty-four hours.

Tick. Tock.

“Come to check on your voodoun?”

His cat’s fur prickled and he turned around, eyed the party behind him. Raphael and two of the Pantera’s best physicians entered the lab, the latter wearing pale blue coats and looking very concerned.

Baptiste shifted instantly, loving the new and precious feeling of control he now had over his animal.

Raphael’s tired, green eyes narrowed with the new, quick and easy act. “Well, this a new development.”

Not confirming or denying the Suit’s assessment, Jean-Baptiste walked toward them. “The voodoun. She awake?”

“She is,” Angel said dryly, his night-black eyes and white short hair a startling contrast. “Awake and pissed.”

Grabbing the stack of charts from Angel’s hands, CJ headed for her desk. “I think the last time I checked in on her, she was planning your death.”

Just as he’d expected. “Weapon of choice?”

The red-haired female glanced up from her charts. “A little of everything. She was talking blades when we examined her. Then a very dull saw when we took blood.”

They’d done a full work-up? Christ, she was going to be spitting fire. “Did you give her anything?”

“Just some anti-nausea meds. She was pretty green when she woke up. But the meds seemed to have given her some relief.”

“Has she seen Ashe?” Jean-Baptiste asked.

Raphael growled before anyone could answer. “She’s refused.”

Damned, stubborn woman
. “I’ll talk to her.”

“You need to do more than talk, Baptiste,” Raphael said, closing the gap between them, his nostrils flaring. “You need to convince her to come and see Ashe, help her, cure her—”

“Raphael—” he began.

But the leader of the Suits was too far gone now. Rage and fear and misery coated his skin, was the air he breathed, directed every move, every thought.

He cocked his head to one side and flashed Baptiste his fully-descended canines. “Because if she doesn’t help my female and cub, I won’t be able to stop myself from killing her.”

* * *

“The voodoun is here?” came the soft hiss. “In the Wildlands?”

“Yes.” Genevieve sat before the elders, her chin lifted, but her insides twisting and turning with dread and grief and desire for the male she’d left back in the bayou. The three ancient, female Pantera, who existed in their puma state, were coated in mist, and sat in the three points of a triangle on the wide, cypress bridge that extended across the calm, moonlit bayou.

“You failed to stop her,” said Wilu. The brown cat’s words were not a question.

Genevieve nodded. “I know.”

“What is your excuse?” Gaya asked, the blue-gray cat’s matching eyes thoughtful.

I was asleep. I was in bed with a male
.

I fell in love
.

Her shoulders falling, Genevieve shook her head. “I can only claim inexperience.”

The third elder, Tyee, rose to all four paws and started toward Genevieve, her white fur, thick and lush. “Do you wish to rectify your failure, Genevieve?”

“I wish to apologize for it,” she said quickly.

The cat shook her head, her pale blue eyes narrowed. “It’s not enough if your goal is to be one of our students. An elder yourself someday.”

Warring emotions swam in Genevieve’s blood. This was it. Her choice, her decision, and she had nothing but excuses. They wanted her commitment to a cause she believed in wholeheartedly—a cause that could stop the decline of magic both inside her home and out—and she was hesitating. But could she truly give up seeing Jean-Baptiste again? Never being touched by him? Kissed by him? Even the idea, the thought, damaged her heart.

She was weak.

“It’s no loss, Genevieve,” Gaya said pleasantly. “Just as your mother before you, it seems that you may not be suited for such an honor.”

The words had not been meant to bruise. The elders only spoke in facts, truths, hard as they might be to face. But Genevieve winced all the same.

“I don’t believe that,” she said, her chin lifting.

“Your passion is elsewhere,” Wilu said, her bright yellow eyes clinging to Genevieve. “As is your focus. Perhaps you wish to find a mate.”

“No,” Genevieve said, shaking her head, even as her brain screamed,
I already have
!

Tyee stopped before her, leaned in and touched her black nose to Genevieve’s hand. “Perhaps the magic inside your home wanes because your belief in the elders wanes.”

Her heart lurched. “Never!”

The white puma dropped her head. “You have disappointed us, Genevieve Burel.”

“Wait—”

“You are released.”

Before Genevieve could say another word, all three elders vanished from the bridge, leaving only a thick mist curling above the bayou.

* * *

“You can forget my shop exists. No more ink. No more metal. I don’t care if your cat chews your dick off, understand?”

Standing in the middle of the lab, a six foot, black-haired linebacker of a Hunter guarding her back, Isi glared at Jean-Baptiste. Arms crossed over her chest, blue-streaked hair wild around her face, the woman looked ready to murder him, and he didn’t blame her one bit.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

She flipped him off. “Don’t pretend you give a shit.”

He shook his head. “Not pretending. I do care. I just care more about the survival of my species. And this woman who carries the first Pantera cub in fifty years is being threatened by something. From the inside out, Isi. I swear to god, I wouldn’t have gone to these lengths, been a complete asshole, if it weren’t dire.”

“You had no right to do what you did, Baptiste,” she said. “I don’t owe you or them anything.”

He nodded. “That’s true.”

Her teeth ground together. “But…”

“But, shit, Isi. It’s a baby.”

She stared at him for several long seconds, then slowly started to shake her head. “I don’t know what you think I can do for her.”

“Just take a look, see what you think.” He walked toward her.

“Do I even have a choice here?”

“Course you do.”

“Don’t try to play nice now, Baptiste,” she warned as he approached. “I’m not forgiving you.”

Jean-Baptiste grinned. He’d always enjoyed their almost sibling-like banter. “No forgiveness,” he said, reaching out and pushing down a patch of her wild hair that was sticking straight up. “But maybe if I need the ink or metal again…”

She slapped his hand away. “I told you. Hell. No.”

“Come on, Isi. You know you find it fascinating—”

He stopped speaking, his nose catching the most wondrous, most delectable scent in the world. Instantly, his body went hot and hard, a hungry growl vibrating in his throat.

His nose didn’t make mistakes.

Not when it came to his female.

Miss Burel was near.

Chapter 8

Violence had never called to Genevieve until now. Until she stood in the doorway of the clinic’s lab and watched Jean-Baptiste touch the voodoun’s hair. Her lip peeled back and her canines started to drop. She wanted to spring, release her puma, race across the floor and leap onto the woman, claws out. But hurting Isi, or even displaying her nearly debilitating jealously, wasn’t why she was here. Trying to prove her worth to the elders and her commitment to the Pantera by removing the woman from the Wildlands without incident was.

Jean-Baptiste stepped away from Isi, and turned around to face Genevieve. If it was possible, he looked even more fiercely handsome than he had a few hours ago when she’d left him in the forest. His amber eyes were glowing with warmth and the metal in his lip winked at her.

She swallowed the saliva that had pooled in her mouth.

“It’s good to see you, Miss Burel,” he said. “And much sooner than I had anticipated. Have you come to tell me your dealings with the elders are done?”

His voice enveloped her, made her insides melt, made her cat purr. She growled and shook her head. “I’ve come for her.”

Isi raised one eyebrow.

“And what do you plan to do with her?” Jean-Baptiste asked evenly, coming to stand in front of the voodoun.

“Take her back. She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t want to be here.” She looked at Isi then, tried to push back the desire to rip the diamond studs from the female’s nose with her teeth. “Isn’t that right?”

“By
here
do you mean the Wildlands?” Jean-Baptiste asked. “Or beside me?”

She turned to him and growled. “Of course I mean the Wildlands.” But inside her guts, and her heart, the latter seemed a far bigger concern at the moment.

Foolish female
.

“I think I have some of that anti-love elixir with me,” Isi uttered dryly. “It’s yours if you want it, Baptiste.”

Genevieve whirled on the female and hissed, “Shut up.”

Once again, Isi’s eyebrows rose.

Jean-Baptiste started toward Genevieve. “The elders want her out of the Wildlands.”

She lifted her chin. “That’s right.”

“And you’ve come to do their bidding.” Those liquid amber eyes pinned her where she stood. “Do you even know why?”

“Of course I do. They believe her to be detrimental to our land, to Ashe and the child. They know what’s best for our kind, Jean-Baptiste. They always have. They’ve always protected the Pantera.”
It’s why I’ve admired them so much. Why I’ve given up my life to be in their service
.

Jean-Baptiste didn’t agree or disagree, just kept coming toward her. “Do you think it’s wise to take on a job without knowing the reasons behind such a belief? What if they’re wrong? Or misinformed?”

“They’re the elders,” she said as if that was the only explanation necessary. “They know all.”

“I don’t believe that. If they knew all, why is it we still can’t breed? Why do we still have pools of dying magic on our borders?”

Genevieve just stared at him. She’d had the same thoughts, the same questions, and had pushed them from her mind. Wasn’t it traitorous to question the elders?

“Isi could be the one person to help Ashe,” Jean-Baptiste was saying. “Help the cub.”

“And what if she’s not?” Genevieve said softly, her head growing fuzzy as his scent pushed into her nostrils. “What if she does more harm than good? That could be behind the elders’ motives. They could know something about her we don’t.”