He slammed his fist against the door again and again, then stopped suddenly as a weird crawling energy hit his scalp and washed down his body. Deep in his mind, a voice spoke to him. A voice he didn't know. A woman's.
Then you shall both suffer.
His gaze flew to Melisande. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
Turning back to the shimmering, unbreachable door, he knew. The temple itself, or the queen whose spirit resided within, had heard his claim and bowed to it.
In a spray of light, he shifted into his cougar and flew through as if the stone had never been. As before, he landed on tight, spiral stairs, this time of stone. The air changed as he descended to the lowest of the chambers, taking on the scent of lightning and lily of the valley. Of fear and pain.
Ariana's pain.
With his cat's agility, he tore down the stairs, a longer set than the last ones, twisting deep into the earth. With each twist, Ariana's pain grew inside him.
She cried out again. And again.
Finally, when he thought he couldn't stand it another minute, he burst into the chamber he'd seen in his dream. And into a scene of nightmare.
Ariana stood within the circle of pillars, in the center of the knee-deep pool, naked. Bloody stripes crisscrossed her breasts and thighs. Stripes that weren't healing.
As he watched, a bolt of lightning shot from the top of one of the pillars to slice across her abdomen. With a cry, she threw back her head, her face a mask of agony. She swayed unnaturally on her feet as if she were being held upright by an invisible force.
He felt her pain as if it were his own. Shifting into a man, he ran to her and jumped into the pool as another bolt struck her low across the back.
"No more!" he shouted.
The water plastered his pants to his calves and soaked into his boots. As he reached her he saw a flash of light against the ceiling and shifted to put himself between it and Ariana. Pain sliced across his shoulder blade, an electric current that raced through his body, setting every nerve ending on fire. Biting down on a groan, he wrapped his arms around Ariana's chilled, bloody body, curving himself around her. Protecting her as well as he could.
"Kougar." His name on her lips was little more than a gasp. "You can't be here."
"I'm getting you out of here."
"No. Can't . . . leave."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another bolt flash, and shifted to take that blow, too. The lightning tore through his left hip, slicing his pants and his flesh halfway to the bone.
Fuck.
Within the cage of his body, Ariana began to soften, her breath easing.
"Have you accessed any of the ancient knowledge?" he asked, but she didn't answer. "Ariana?" He tried to lift her into his arms, but she was caught fast by an invisible force.
Another bolt flashed and Kougar spun, Ariana tucked within the curve of his body. Whatever held her to that pool allowed him to turn her, but not remove her. Fire exploded across the backs of his thighs.
Goddamn
that hurt.
He caught the next one across his left shoulder. The fourth tore through the back of his skull. He could barely think, barely breathe. His entire existence, his purpose for living, narrowed down to one thing--keeping the bolts from striking the woman in his arms.
How many attacked him, he didn't know. Time ceased to exist. He was so dazed with pain that he didn't realize the attack was over until Ariana collapsed, nearly falling to her knees before he caught her.
With a wary, cautious breath, he swung her up into his arms, then leaped clear of the pool before another bolt could flay them. He headed for the stairs, wanting only to get her the hell out of there. It occurred to him that he had no idea if she'd learned what she needed to know.
But at that moment, Ariana's safety was his only concern.
Ariana rose to consciousness slowly, disoriented, her body ablaze with pain. Kougar's familiar scent and the feel of his strong arms grounded her, dispersing her fear, and she sank against the warmth of his chest as she tried to remember where she was. And why.
They were climbing upward. Climbing stairs. Twisty, spiral stairs.
The temple
.
With a jerk, she came fully awake, shifting in his arms, hooking one arm around his neck and pulling herself up with a blast of pain. "Kougar, no! I can't leave. It's not done. I've learned nothing."
"It attacked you."
"Morwun demanded pain as her price. Kougar, I have to go back."
But he wasn't listening, and her strength had never been a match for his. Especially now. She hurt, as if every cell in her body had been lit on fire. Her head, too heavy to hold up, fell against the side of his neck as he took the stairs at a fast climb. Even her hands and feet were beginning to prickle in the way they did when the darkness inside her grew hungry.
In her dazed mind, small memories popped forth like warm puffs of air. The metallic smell of her own warm blood as she cut her wrists to paint her body for ritual. The pleas and screams of an Ilina maiden as she curled her fingers around the traitor's heart and pulled it from her chest. The sweet pleasure of release as she rode a male she didn't recognize. Because the memories weren't hers, but those of the queens who'd come before. Scattered, confused knowledge that might prove to be of some help if she could make sense of any of it.
Moments later, Kougar burst through the warded door and into the upper of the queen's chambers, the room light and airy compared to the one below. Melisande stood where Ariana had left her, ankle deep in the floor, while Jag fought back would-be invaders at the base of the upper stair, his bare back gleaming with sweat.
"Mage?" she asked.
"Yes." Kougar's arms tightened around her. "They followed us down here."
"I can seal the door." How she knew that, she wasn't sure, but she began to whisper the ancient chant that came to her. Seconds later a wall appeared between Jag and his opponents.
The Feral sprang back in the nick of time, but the Mage surged forward. A mistake. A yell of agony filtered through the wall as his hand, sticking out through the solid stone, dropped its useless knife to clatter on the floor below.
Jag whirled, his expression fierce until it landed on her. "Did you do that? How about a little warning next time, sister? Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't that our only way out?"
"You've acquired new knowledge," Kougar murmured against her temple, a fine thread of expectation sharpening his words. He pulled back, and she met his gaze.
"Not enough. Not all."
"You don't know that."
"Yes. I do. I have to go back."
The air felt queer, almost bubbly, against her skin. She tightened her hold on Kougar's neck, excitement lifting her pulse. "I can feel the magic in here, the magic that trapped Melisande." Closing her eyes, she let the knowledge flow into her. "It will trap any Ilina turning from mist to flesh." She opened her eyes again, meeting Kougar's gaze. "Which is why it didn't trap me, too."
"How do you know?"
"I couldn't read the magic before. Now I can. I can block it." Softly, she began to sing one of the Ilina songs of enchantment. Slowly, she felt the magic in the chamber dissolve and the strangeness leave the air. "It's done."
"Fail." Jag nodded toward Melisande. "Peter Pan there is still trapped like an ex-Mafia boss in cement shoes." He sauntered over to Melisande, squatting at her feet. Wrapping one large hand around her ankle, he gave a small tug. "Caught fast." He looked up at the mist warrior, whose complexion had turned pasty white. "Are you sure your feet are still in there?"
Melisande scowled. "They're in there. And the moment they're free, I'll prove it to you by kicking you in the balls."
"Yeah, yeah, that's what all the girls say."
"I don't have the knowledge to free you, Mel, but no one else should get caught. If I come up with the magic . . ."
"Screw magic," Jag muttered, rising. "What we need is a jackhammer."
Kougar tightened his hold on her. "He's right."
Melisande's gaze shot to Ariana's. "You can't let them destroy the temple."
Ariana sighed. "Call Getrill, Melisande. You're a lot more important to me than the temple."
Melisande met her gaze, fear written all over her face. She was afraid Ariana was mistaken, that Getrill, too, would become trapped. Ariana could see that truth in her eyes, even if she didn't say the words out loud.
"Call her, Mel."
Melisande frowned but did as she asked, and a moment later the freckled Getrill safely formed from the mist. As her gaze took in Melisande's entrapment and Ariana's weakness, her face turned hard, her hand going to her sword.
Ariana raised a hand, reading her thoughts all too well. "The Mage set the trap, Getrill. The Ferals protect us."
The maiden relaxed only slightly.
"Take Jag back to Feral House--"
"No." Kougar interrupted her. "Jag won't be of any use by the time he gets back here." He turned to Getrill. "Knock on the back door of Feral House and tell Lyon I need a pickax and a sledgehammer. ASAP."
Getrill's wary gaze swung to Ariana, who nodded in agreement. The Ilina turned to mist and disappeared.
"It's sacrilege to desecrate the temple," Melisande muttered when she was gone; but her complaint was all but toneless, a rote objection and little more. Her desperation to be free was a palpable force, yet she held herself together with the fierceness Ariana had always admired. It was the reason the woman was her second-in-command.
"Now what?" Jag asked no one in particular.
Up above, Ariana could hear the sounds of pounding, as if the Mage were trying to find a way to break through. She stroked the back of Kougar's head.
"You can put me down now."
He eyed her without expression, then brushed his cheek against her hair. "I could." But he made no move to release her, and she leaned into his touch, perfectly content to remain in his arms a little while longer.
Inside, the mating bond opened a little more.
The all-too-familiar prickling sensation in her palms and the soles of her feet grew worse. The darkness was getting seriously hungry. Out-of-control hungry. Which made no sense at all. The more the mating bond opened, the more the grip of the poison inside her should ease, as it siphoned off to Kougar. It shouldn't be strengthening.
Was this Hookeye's doing? Fear twisted inside her even as the hunger leaped with a strength that startled her, the prickling shooting up her legs and arms like sharp little scalpels.
"What's the matter?" Kougar stiffened. "You're in pain."
She didn't answer. She couldn't. The scalpels were tearing her apart from the inside, the need to turn to mist clawing to get out. It was a compulsion that took every ounce of strength she possessed to fight.
Her heart pounded with the struggle, with the fear that this time she'd lose.
"He's attacking," she gasped.
"How?" Kougar's face swam in her vision, his eyes blazing into hers.
She clung to his neck, drawing on the small strength she gained from touching him, holding on against the darkness with everything she had as it tried to free itself to spread to her maidens. To destroy those who'd survived the first attack.
"Ariana?
"
"It's the poison. More." She was beginning to shake from the effort to hold it back. "
Too strong.
"
His grip on her tightened. "Tell me what you need."
"Pain. Others' pain."
In a single fluid movement, he set her on the cool floor at his feet, stripped off his shirt, and leaped at Jag, his fangs and claws erupting midair to tear a chunk of flesh from the jaguar shifter's shoulder.
The darkness inside her howled with pleasure at the shifter's pain.
Jag stumbled forward, then whirled, his own claws and fangs erupting as he went feral. "What the
fuck?
"
"Fight me," Kougar growled through his fangs. "The darkness within her feeds on the pain. Feeding it is the only way she can control it."
"Neither one of you is any good with the warnings!"
Kougar leaped again and the two part-men, part-beasts crashed to the floor, wrestling and biting, clawing and bleeding.
Seated on the cold floor, Ariana gripped her head with both hands, closing her eyes as the darkness fed, as she fought the battle inside her. Sounds carried to her--the ripping of cloth and flesh, the crunch of breaking bones, the growls and snarls. The metallic smell of blood filled her nose and slid down her throat to coat her tongue. Droplets of sweat, or blood, splattered her bare feet.
A muffled cry had her looking up and turning toward Melisande.
Ariana stared at her friend in horror.
"Mel.
" Her second had a knife in both hands and was cutting her own thighs. Blood ran in rivulets down her legs, trickling across the floor, pooling near Ariana's feet.
Silent tears slid down Melisande's cheeks. Blue eyes, dark with agony, lifted to Ariana. "You need pain. I'm giving you mine. If you lose, we all lose."
Ariana's vision blurred with tears of her own, anger burning violently inside her at the Mage who'd caused such misery. She wanted him dead!
Kougar and Jag fought, clawing one another until their blood, too, began to run over the tiles as if seeking her.
Deep inside her, the poison devoured their pain and rejoiced.
A light tingle running over her skin alerted her of Getrill's return seconds before she appeared, the Chief of the Ferals at her side. With a sledgehammer in one hand and two pickaxes in the other, Lyon fell unsteadily to one knee, his head low as he struggled against the sweeping nausea.
"Cease!" he roared at his battling warriors.
"No." When his sharp gaze met hers, Ariana explained. "Not yet. They're doing this for me. The poison inside me is demanding pain. If I don't quench its hunger, I'll lose control."
Lyon frowned but said nothing more. After half a minute, he rose slowly, dropped the pickaxes, and walked over to Melisande, the sledgehammer at his side. His gaze dropped to her missing feet, then back to her face. "I'm not entirely sure this isn't a good place for you." His tone, though dry, possessed a bite.
Melisande met his gaze, her chin lifting. A chin that dripped with tears. "I deserve that for attacking you in your home. But I thought Ariana was in trouble. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her. Nothing."
Lyon eyed her assessingly, then gave a brief nod. "Cover your face." Lifting the sledgehammer, he brought it down hard, slamming it onto the tile near Melisande's ankles. Chunks of crystal flew in every direction.
Ariana ducked her head against her knees against the flying debris.
Over and over, Lyon attacked the temple floor while Kougar and Jag continued to fight. While the poison inside Ariana fed.
Finally, the darkness inside her slunk back into the shadows, and she was able to draw a shaky breath of relief.
"It's enough," she said between strikes of Lyon's hammer.
Kougar and Jag pulled apart, Jag grinning as if he'd thoroughly enjoyed the fight. Kougar clasped the jaguar shifter's bloody, nearly healed shoulder, and together they strode to where Lyon worked. While Jag grabbed one of the pickaxes, Kougar continued to Ariana. He was a mess, flesh hanging from his cheek and shoulder, his chest and beard covered in blood. But in his eyes, she saw only concern for her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, squatting beside her.
"Yes. Are you?" She reached out, placing her hand on his bleeding chest, directly over his heart. "The poison . . ." What must this renewed attack, the flood of new poison, be doing to him?
He covered her hand and squeezed gently. "The pain in my chest isn't any worse than before. If anything, it's less."
"Why?" The pain should be worse, shouldn't it? More poison would just be eating away at his heart faster. Unless . . . "It's changed. Maybe this isn't the same poison he used before."
"You may be right. It may attack in another way this time. Or more silently." He studied her, pale eyes lingering on her mouth, his thumb tracing her lower lip, and she wondered if he'd wiped away a splatter of blood. "Either way, the original poison is still there, still eating away at my heart. I can feel it."
"Nothing's changed."
"Not in a good way, no." With a brush of her cheek, he rose and grabbed the last pickax.
Over and over, the three huge men broke away bits of the floor until finally Lyon was able to lift Melisande bodily, the solid ball of stone, crystals, and jewels still encasing her feet. He set her on the floor, holding her by one arm to steady her, and turned to Getrill.
"Are you the only ride out of here?"
"I'll call another."
A moment later, Brielle appeared beside her. Brielle's worried gaze took in Ariana's appearance, the bloody cuts that had yet to heal completely.