Hunting the Jackal (8 page)

She eased her gun from the holster. There was no other choice. She couldn’t let the clan be ambushed by whatever the undead had in mind. Couldn’t let them summon more of their brethren.

With a whispered prayer to Anubis, she stood and started firing.

CHAPTER NINE

When Kurik entered the bedroom he shared with Rashon, it was to find his mate standing at the foot of the bed, a growl rumbling from his throat as he stared down at the sex-tangled sheets. Concern crashed through him. Rashon vibrated with fury, an emotion so against his easygoing nature that Kurik couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“‘Shon?” he called, his voice soft. “Are you okay?”

“No.” The growling ended with a snarl. “I want to kill.”

Fear slammed in Kurik’s chest. He didn’t mean...? “Who?”

An unholy rage burned in Rashon’s eyes as he turned to look at Kurik. “Those Canadian jackals. I want to kill every one of them who’ve ever touched Amarie. I don’t care how few jackals there are. They don’t deserve the name if that’s how they treat a female. If Markus knows about Amarie’s condition, then he knows how they treated her. He’ll let us go up there and take care of them.”

“Agreed.” Kurik relaxed, glad to know that Rashon’s anger wasn’t directed at Amarie. “Um, listen. About Amarie...”

“I was thinking about that, too. Maybe we should approach an Isis witch.”

Kurik stared at his mate in disbelief. “Gods, man, she just told you she can’t have children, and you’re already planning to replace her?”

“What? No! I thought one of the Daughters could help Amarie. Lady Tia pulled me back from death. Surely she can heal Amarie.”

Kurik’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Gods. I thought you wanted someone instead of Amarie.”

Indignation replaced the shock on Rashon’s face. “How in the hell could you think I want to replace her?”

“I didn’t want to think that,” Kurik countered. “She saw you talking to those Isis witches at the party. The look on her face...gods, it hurt. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me she was afraid that she wouldn’t be enough for us. That maybe we should talk to one of the Daughters instead, since they could give us everything she couldn’t.”

Rashon looked stricken. “She actually said that? She believed that?”

“I tried to convince her differently.” A lead weight settled in Kurik’s chest. The two people he cared most about in the world were hurting, and he’d give anything to take their pain away. “I told her she was exactly what we wanted, and she—she told me she loved me, right before you came home.”

He leaned against the wall. “She offered it up, like the precious gift it is, like she felt safe enough to commit to it. To commit to loving us.”

Rashon groaned. “Then I had to go and screw it up by springing the family idea on her. Then I walked out on her.” He ran his hands over his hair. “When she told us her story, I was so angry I was about to lose it. I didn’t want to blow up in front of her and have her think it was at her. She probably thinks I’m mad at her, just like you did. Gods, I’m such an ass. I need to apologize.”

He bolted for the bedroom door, ripping it open to rush down the hall to Amarie’s bedroom. “Amarie? Amarie? Where are you, sweetheart?”

A pair of shorts lay on the bed, the drawer where she stored her weapons open. “She’s gone out,” Kurik said, a feeling of dread settling in his gut. “Her weapons are gone.”

Rashon headed for the main room. “You don’t think she’d leave the compound, do you? Because of what I said?”

“The car keys are still hanging by the door,” Kurik answered, heading for the entrance and out into the night, Rashon following. “Maybe she’s just walking the property. She did that a lot when she first got here.”

Four pops cracked the silence of the night. Fear slammed into Kurik. “Those were gunshots.”

They didn’t think, just shifted and ran toward the fading echoes of gunshot. Kurik howled a warning to alert the other jackals as they raced for the thick underbrush on the remote side of the compound. Six more gunshots shattered the night. Rashon poured on more speed, outpacing Kurik as they raced around the lake.

Ten shots, Amarie had fired ten shots. That meant she had emptied the gun clip. Amarie wouldn’t fire the gun without good reason. Suddenly, he knew the good reason was really, really bad.

Blessed
,
Anubis.
Please don’t let us be too late.

Kurik followed Rashon’s jackal, other guards spilling into the night behind them. They burst through the trees. The dry death-dust of Lost Ones assaulted his nose. Amarie must have made each bullet count, but many of the undead surrounded her. Too many. He skidded on his haunches as another sharp smell stung his senses. Blood.

Jackal blood.

Lost Ones surrounded Amarie, almost overwhelming her. Still in human form, she spun in a deadly dance of blades, darting and feinting, stabbing and slashing, leading the Lost Ones back toward a breach in the outer fence. Rashon roared with rage and leaped forward, attacking in a whirlwind of claws and teeth. Kurik followed the path of destruction, beheading the Lost Ones with lethal swipes of his massive claws, his only thought to get to Amarie. The undead fought back, and even though Kurik knew he and Rashon had bettered the odds, they hadn’t evened them.

Leap, bite, dart. Snap, rend, run. Feint, claw, kill. Kurik’s world narrowed to the art of fighting, the act of survival. Everything fell away except instinct. Attack the enemy, defend his mates. Protect his chosen family.

He and Rashon cut a swath to her, aware that reinforcements had finally arrived. Her left-handed blade bit deep into the neck of one of the undead and stuck there. She released it, stabbed the right blade deep into an eye. His blood boiled as she jumped backward to avoid a blow, then shifted to jackal form. Rashon reached her side, then his and Kurik’s view was blocked by a swarm of Lost Ones.

The desiccated creatures fought with inhuman silence and a coordinated intensity Kurik had never experienced before. Desperation seized him, the need to reach his mates overriding everything else. A yelp of pain pierced his soul. One of the Lost Ones had grabbed Amarie, claws digging deep into her flanks as it lifted her high. Dangling, snarling with pain, Amarie tried to snap at the undead’s throat but missed. As he watched, Rashon leaped up in a half-shifted form, swinging for the creature’s throat with one clawed hand, while grabbing for Amarie with the other.

For a heartbeat, they were safe. Then one of the Lost Ones swiped at Rashon’s back and side. The scent of jackal blood saturated the air as Rashon howled in pain. In slow motion, Kurik watched his mates stumble sideways, then fall backward through the jagged tear in the fence.

Kurik roared in fury and grief. His vision reddened as he plowed through the Lost Ones, ripping them apart with massive sweeps of his clawed hands, unaware of when he’d half shifted. After an eternity, he reached the fence. Bunching his muscles, he leaped high, launching himself through the breach. For a moment, he hung in midair then plunged down through branches, rocks and red Georgia clay.

Pain exploded in his body, but fear pushed adrenaline through his veins, shutting out everything else. He landed hard but quickly rolled to his feet, shifting back to his fully human form. “Rashon! Amarie!”

Crashing through the broken vegetation, he opened his senses, searching for his mates. Their blood seemed to be everywhere, sending panic through his heart.
Blessed Anubis
,
please let them be all right.
Please.

He crashed through the dense underbrush, stumbling to a halt when he came to a small clearing. Breath seized in his lungs. Even in the dim moonlight, he could tell that things were bad.

Rashon had fully regained his human form. He had his back against a snapped-off pine. A jagged hole gaped in his left side, and his shoulder looked to be dislocated. Amarie lay beside him, still in jackal form, her hind legs bent in a way nature hadn’t intended. Kurik could smell the Lost Ones’ poison.

“K-Kurik.” Rashon smiled at him, a trickle of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth. “There’s my love.”

His legs gave way and he dropped to the ground, his heart shredding. “I need you to hang on,” he pleaded. “Both of you. Help is on the way.”

“Try,” Rashon whispered, his breathing labored. “For you I’ll try, but I need you to tell her.”

His right hand stroked Amarie’s fur as his eyes glassed over. Amarie lay still and silent, no whimper of agony, no flinch of pain. “Babies or no babies, I wanted her for us, always. Make sure she knows.”

“You’ll tell her yourself,” Kurik asserted through a tight throat. “When you’re both healed.”

“Yeah, I think I will.” His eyes slid closed. “Maybe she’ll let me make the journey through Duat with her.”

No
.

Throwing himself down before them, Kurik reached out with everything he had—mind, body, magic, love—wrapping his will around them, gathering them close. He couldn’t let them go. He wouldn’t.

Dimly he became aware of others around them. He snarled in warning, but no one tried to touch them. No one tried to take them away from him. Magic fell over them, a golden glow soft and warm and touched with the divine. When it faded, the grass and dirt and blood he’d knelt in had been replaced by flooring. The infirmary in the community house.

Kurik growled as a large shadow fell over them. He looked up, into the glowing eyes of Markus in his Anubis form. The Anapa pointed at his mates. “Give them to me.”

Kurik curled over his lovers. “I-I can’t, sir. Please. Don’t make me let them go.” He couldn’t lose them. Couldn’t be without them. He would fight them all, he’d fight the Great Father Anubis himself at the gates of the underworld if he had to. As long as he had breath, he would fight for them.

Power rolled over him as the Anput joined her mate. “You hold their souls, their
ba
and their
ka
. They have not entered the gates of Duat yet, and they do not wish to because of their love for you. We will do what we must to heal their bodies—with the blessing of Isis and Anubis. But you must give them over to our care. Now.”

“Yes, Lady Anput.” Carefully, Kurik handed his precious burden over, then rose to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He hadn’t fared well in his fight with the Lost Ones, but he’d survive. If Amarie and Rashon didn’t... “Please, Lord Anapa, whatever you can do, whatever you need from me, I offer freely. I can’t be without them.”

“Follow me.”

Kurik followed his lord and lady to the waiting Daughters of Isis, vowing that in life or in death, he would be with Rashon and Amarie.

CHAPTER TEN

Amarie swam up through layers of unconsciousness, then beautiful dreams of cuddling up with Kurik and Rashon punctuated by nightmares of being ripped away from them. Kurik was always there, even in the blackness, his will and his warmth surrounding her and keeping her grounded.

She opened her eyes, dazed to discover that she sensed Kurik and Rashon mentally before she scented them. She lay wrapped tight in Rashon’s arms, his nose pressed against the back of her neck. It took her a moment to recognize the infirmary. “Kurik?”

The bed shifted, and she finally noticed the large black jackal at the foot of the bed. He blinked at her, then his whole body quivered. Leaping to the floor, he moved to the head of the bed, then shifted to his human form.

She gasped as she caught sight of him. He looked haggard, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice hoarse with barely restrained emotion. “You’re finally awake.”

Rashon stirred next, his arms tightening about her waist. “What happened? Why are we in the infirmary?”

“Because you died.” Dark smudges spread beneath his eyes, reddened and tarnished from their usual golden color. “Amarie surprised a large group of Lost Ones trying to sneak into the compound. We went after her and got there right before she lost your blades. We were all fighting, but there were so many of them, so many. You both got hurt, and then you fell through the fence and down in the gully. I went after you, and at first I couldn’t find you.” He shuddered.

“You did find us,” Amarie said. “We’re here.”

“You both died.” A harsh breath sawed through him. “I held you both. I felt it. But I couldn’t let you go. Gods, help me, but I couldn’t let you die without me.”

They both reached for him, pulled him down between them as he broke. Sobbing, Amarie pressed kisses to his jaw, his throat, anywhere she could reach, desperate to reassure Kurik that she was with him, that she was safe, thanks to him. She was aware of Rashon on the other side, his voice thick with tears, offering soft words of reassurance.

It was a long time before Kurik calmed enough to speak again. “It’s been five days,” Kurik said, his voice stark. “Anapa, Anput and the Isis witches worked on you for nearly a day. They were afraid to move you, so they kept you here under watch of the priestesses. You didn’t shift back to human until last night. You were gone all that time, but I could feel you.” He rubbed his face against her cheek, then Rashon’s. “I could feel you, and that’s the only thing that kept me sane, the only thing that kept me here.”

“Stop.” Rashon groaned, his features twisted with anguish. “For the love of Anubis, please stop torturing yourself. We’re here. You brought us back. You saved us.”

“I need you,” Kurik uttered, his voice scraped bare. “Both of you. I need us.”

“You have us.” Rashon looked at her, a silent question in his eyes. How could he doubt how she felt about them?

Then Amarie remembered. “You know I want to be with you more than anything. But if you want children—”

“We want you,” Rashon interrupted. “Always have. Always will.”

“I heard you that night,” she told him, unable to smother the hurt that racked her. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. “I heard you say you wanted to approach a Daughter of Isis.”

“For you,” Rashon choked out. “To heal you. I thought if they could save me and Alonso, they could heal you. Oh, gods.” Horror dawned in his eyes. “This is my fault. You died because of me. If I hadn’t said that, you wouldn’t have left. You wouldn’t have faced the Lost Ones on your own—”

“I wasn’t alone,” she said, stopping him before he could berate himself more. She closed her eyes in relief, the pain in her heart easing. She hadn’t wanted to believe he could shun her so quickly, so finally. “You came after me. You were there with me. You both were.”

“There isn’t another woman, Amarie,” Kurik told her.

Rashon nodded. “We chose you. There isn’t another for us.”

Her eyes slid shut as she accepted the gift they offered. She wanted to offer them a gift in return. “Maybe we can ask Tia to take a look at me. If she can bring us back from the dead, surely she can fix my womb, and I can give you children.”

“No.” Rashon reached across Kurik’s broad chest to touch her shoulder. “If it happens, it happens, and if it doesn’t, then it doesn’t. I don’t care about that. I just want you. I want you to be with us, to be ours, forever.”

“Rashon...” Tears pricked her eyes.

“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want, just name it. I’ll buy you more pretty dresses. I’ll wine you and dine you. I’ll kill everyone in your old clan who hurt you. I’ll—”

She put her fingers to his lips and offered him a tremulous smile. “Just tell me you still love me. That’s all I need.”

Strain eased from his features as he kissed her finger. “I love you, Amarie,” he whispered, his words clear and firm as he wrapped his hand around hers. “With all that I am, body and soul, I love you. And you, Kurik. With all that I am, body and soul, I love you.”

Kurik reached up, twining his fingers with theirs, golden eyes blazing with a smile. “I love you, Amarie. And I love you, Rashon. With all that I am, body and soul, I love you.”

Amarie’s smile widened as her heart filled with joy and love for these men.
Her
men. “I love you, Rashon. And I love you, Kurik. So very much. With all that I am, body and soul, I love you.”

They all leaned in together, sharing a three-way kiss that soon had them laughing, then crying, then laughing again. “I want to go home,” Amarie said, touching them both because she couldn’t do otherwise. “I need proof that this isn’t some kind of dream.”

“Home sounds good.” Kurik got up, retrieving a duffel bag from under the bed. “I had someone bring some clothes over for us.”

They dressed quickly, eager to leave the infirmary behind. A knock sounded on the infirmary door. Markus entered, followed by Tia.

Each of them snapped to, then relaxed as Markus waved at them to stand down. The clan leader settled his hands on his hips, giving them a baleful stare. “I would like for a month to go by before you three darken the doorway of our infirmary again.”

“A week would be lovely,” Tia added.

“Yes sir, ma’am,” they intoned together like chastised children.

“The clan owes you a debt, Amarie,” Markus declared. “Without your presence, our bonding night might have been more tragic. You are an asset to the clan.”

She dipped her head in embarrassment, unaccustomed to such praise—and from the clan leader, no less. “Thank you, sir.”

“This attack proves that we need to always be prepared,” Markus said. “The Isis witch responsible obviously thought to use the ceremony as a distraction and used a concealment spell for good measure. Unfortunately the jackal tasked with monitoring the boundary sensors was distracted by the party. He’s being punished and we have identified a weak spot in our defenses which will be immediately rectified.”

He growled, and Amarie almost felt sorry for the guard. “Amarie, in between your duties guarding Tia, you’ll be training the female jackals and the Anput in self-defense, including the use of firearms. We need to rely on more than tooth and claw with the number of Lost Ones increasing. We will work out the details later.” He smiled. “Right now, you have more important things to attend to.”

“Sir?”

It was Tia who answered. “It’s important for you to strengthen your bond. It allowed us to save your lives. It’s one of the strongest I’ve felt and needs to be nurtured. If it wasn’t for Kurik anchoring you, we might not have been successful.”

Amarie clasped her men’s hands. “We know. We realize how blessed we are.”

Kurik lifted their hands for a kiss. “With your permission, we’d like to head home to work on our bonding.”

“Permission granted,” Markus said. “The three of you are on leave until further notice.”

Tia winked. “I expect the three of you to make it official with a ceremony before the full clan.”

“Yes, priestess.”

The clan leaders left. Amarie, Kurik and Rashon moved without a word, stepping into an embrace. For a long moment, they just stood there, synching breathing, heartbeat, bond. “Today is the first day of our forever,” Amarie told them. “I promise that a day won’t go by without either of you knowing how much I love you, whether by word or act. Starting now.”

Both smiled as they kissed her. Rashon tugged them toward the door. “Let’s go home.”

As Amarie followed her mates out, she breathed a prayer of thanks to Anubis and Isis. Six months ago, she’d thought her life was over. Now she knew it had only just begun, and it was destined to be full of love and laughter.

* * * * *