Bayon/Jean-Baptiste (Bayou Heat) (4 page)

“Anything.” She frowned, her fingers twisting together as she stared at the lands that she’d once known with the intimacy of a lover. Her duty as the leader of the Hunters meant she’d patrolled every inch of the Wildlands. Night after night. “No, that’s not right. I have memories, but they’re like puzzle pieces I can’t put together.” There was a long pause, her heavy breathing emphasizing the effort it was taking not to bolt in terror. “How long?”

Bayon frowned. “What?”

“How long was I gone?”

He grimaced. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. Not until she was stronger.

“Keira—”

“How long?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“Fuck.”

He crouched beside her. “It’s going to be all right.”

There was a flash of fire in the dull eyes. It was a painful reminder of the old Keira.

“Don’t patronize me.”

He bit back a curse. Dammit. They didn’t have time for this. She was sick, and exhausted, and in dire need of shifting.

“Keira, I don’t know what the hell happened to you, but I can sense that your cat has been forced into hibernation. The only way to heal you is to get you into the Wildlands.”

She licked her lips, her heart pounding so loudly he feared it would attract the natural predators of the swamp.

“I know I need it.”

He inched closer, hoping the proximity of his cat could offer comfort. “But there’s something that bothers you?”

“It frightens me.”

“I’ll take you to Parish,” he promised. The two siblings had been closer than most since they’d been destined to be Hunters together. “No one will bother—”

“I can’t.” She reached out, her nails sinking into the flesh of his arm. “Not Parish.”

Bayon frowned. “Do you remember him?” he asked.

“I…it’s beginning to come back, but it’s still fuzzy.” She bit her lower lip, her fear palpable in the air. “Please, don’t make me do this.”

He tilted his head so he could hold her skittish gaze. “Easy, Keira.”

“Not Parish.”

“Then a Healer.”

“No.” Her nails dug deeper, the scent of his blood filling the air. “Only you.”

“Honey, there’s no way I can keep your return a secret.” He tried to calm her rising hysteria.

There was a choked sound, as Keira turned her head to hide her expression. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m broken.”

A dagger being shoved into his heart would have been less painful than those low, traumatized words.

“No,” he snarled, his body vibrating with emotion. “Keira, you’re a miracle.”

“That’s not what they’ll see. They’ll want to try and fix me. Or worse, they’ll lock me away.”

“I would never let them hurt you.”

“There’s something else. Something…” She shook her head. “Please, Bayon, I’m not ready.”

The brief flare of joy as his name unconsciously slipped from her lips was crushed by her heartrending plea.

“Shit.”

Bayon wasn’t modest. He had any number of talents, not the least of which was the ability to directly connect with the inner cat of his people. It was a rare skill that was particularly useful when dealing with a Pantera who’d gone feral. But he wasn’t a Healer. Hell, his bedside manner would have him run out of the faction within the first day.

Unfortunately, Keira was depending on him.

For now he’d have to take on the role of caregiver.

He glanced toward the Wildlands, knowing he had to get Keira into the magic of their home. But how could he keep her presence a secret? Parish would scent her…

Parish.

Of course.

“The caves,” he muttered. “Parish is busy organizing the Hunters, not to mention caring for his mate.” He grimaced. Parish had hauled all of Keira’s possessions to the caves where they’d played as children, refusing to dispose of them no matter how many years passed. “No one will notice you’re inside unless they come looking.”

She turned back to study him with an unsettling intensity. As if she were trying to determine if he could be trusted.

“You’ll keep them away?”

He gave a slow nod. Parish and the others would kick his ass when they discovered he’d kept the stunning truth from them, but right now all that mattered was getting Keira home so she could be healed.

“Yes.”

“You swear?”

“I swear.” There could be no mistaking his sincerity and she gave a slow, hesitant nod. Then, moving until they were nose to nose, he held her gaze. “But once I release your cat, Parish will sense the bond. The only way to keep your presence a secret is to imprint myself on you.”

Long ago, a Pantera parent could deny a potential mate for one of their children. The elders had forbidden the practice, but in olden days the purity of bloodlines had been far more important and there were families who were willing to condemn their child to a life separated from their destined mate rather than dilute their pedigree.

Of course, a Pantera male desperate to claim his lover couldn’t be easily denied. They discovered a way to smother the family bond with their own scent. It was temporary, but it allowed the pair to avoid their family long enough to discover if they were truly meant to be mated.

Over time it had developed into a declaration of love between couples who weren’t yet prepared to become fully mated.

Like humans becoming engaged.

She trembled, her face coated with a thin layer of perspiration. She was on the edge of collapse which was no doubt the only reason she didn’t argue.

“Fine.”

He lowered his head until his face was buried against the curve of her neck, his lips teasing her silken skin.

“Let me in, honey.”

He stroked his lips to the pulse that thundered at the base of her throat, his tongue making a quick swipe over the flesh. Abruptly, his cat strained at the leash for more.

More heat. More skin. More Keira.

Christ. How had he survived even a day without this woman?

Patiently waiting until she’d tentatively relaxed beneath his touch, Bayon wrapped her in his arms. Once he was certain she wasn’t going to panic, he tightened his hold, allowing his musk to wrap around her. It was the first time he’d tried to imprint himself on a female, but his most primitive instincts knew precisely what to do, trigging his male need to claim this woman.

She made a sound deep in her throat. Not rejection. But a low sound of hunger that tumbled him over the edge of a cliff he hadn’t known he was standing on.

Without warning his mouth widened and he sank his teeth into the flesh of her upper shoulder, saturating her in his scent.

She grabbed his shoulders, sighing softly as the force of his claim flooded through her, wrapping her in a layer of protection. Bayon licked the tiny wound on her shoulder as she collapsed against him, trying to be as gentle as possible as he cradled her too-thin body in his arms and rose to his feet.

A savage anger exploded through him as he realized just how delicate she’d become. Had she been starved? Beaten? Sexually abused?

Dammit, he was going to hunt down the savages and make them scream for mercy.

Then he was going to roast them over an open fire and feed them to the gators.

Keeping well away from the patrols that guarded the borders, Bayon headed over the spongy ground toward the isolated caves at the far side of the Wildlands. Since Parish had taken them as his home no one had dared to trespass. Which meant there shouldn’t be any stray intruders.

He could only hope the current leader of the Hunters was too occupied with his duties to return in the next few hours.

The moon was bathing the towering cypress trees in silver as they reached the solid land, heading toward the low rise of hills where the entrance to the caves was hidden by the thick shrubs.

Forced to bend low to keep from smacking his head on the outlying rocks, Bayon shuffled forward until he at last reached the surprisingly large inner cavern with a high, dome-like ceiling and a shallow stream on one side.

The cool, thankfully dry air wrapped around them as he headed directly to the tunnels at the back of the cavern. He felt Keira shiver and he pressed her closer to his chest, choosing the tunnel that led to the furthest end of the series of caves.

He could hear the splash of the waterfall before he hit the circular end of the tunnel. Then, stepping around the curve, he came to a halt, savoring the sight of the water tumbling off the edge of a natural opening in the ceiling to pool in the deep basin in the center of the cavern.

It was that pool that had attracted the young Pantera, their cats joyously climbing the narrow ledges that lined the walls before shifting into their human forms to splash in the fresh water.

Now the children had all grown up and there were no cubs darting through the droplets of water that shimmered in the moonlight or shouts of laughter as young boys tried to capture the interest of the girls.

The thought abruptly reminded him that he had to contact Parish. Someone had to return to tracking the bastards who’d attacked Ashe and her baby.

“I remember this place,” Keira whispered softly, her gaze on the waterfall as Bayon gently lowered her so she could stand beside the pool.

Bayon tugged her to face him. “Look at me, Keira.”

The eyes that remained unnervingly dull lifted to meet his steady gaze. “What?”

“It’s time for me to call your cat.”

He heard her swallow, her eyes too large for her pale face. “You won’t let anyone take me?”

“I’ll protect you,” he pledged, his fingers cautiously cupping her chin. “No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

Tilting her head back, he peered deep into her eyes and spoke the ancient words of power.

A heat prickled in the air, the magic a smothering power that slammed into Keira with a force that sent her to her knees, as a pained sound wrenched from her throat.

Bayon grimaced, hating the knowledge that he was forcing her into an involuntary shift. It was a gift that he used when a Pantera was severely injured in their human form and needed to transform into their cat to heal. Or if the cat had become feral, unable to recall their humanity.

It wasn’t something he did lightly.

Transformation was supposed to be a private, joyous event. For him to compel a shift was uncomfortably close to stealing a person’s free will.

Keira tumbled to the side, then, with a burst of swirling colors, her human form was altering, the muscles thickening and the fur coating her once smooth skin. Bayon continued to speak the low words of command, his hands held over her as her eyes abruptly glowed with power and the cat emerged with a roar of long-suppressed fury.

Sheer relief flooded through him as he took a careful step backward, giving the cat plenty of space. After being forced into hibernation for so long there was no telling what she might do now that she was wakened.

The golden eyes studied him with a predatory hunger, but clearly too weakened to pounce, she instead displayed her massive teeth before curling on the hard floor and lowering her beautiful head to her paws.

Bayon backed out of the cave, giving the cat enough privacy so she could rest in peace, while remaining close enough that the human part of her knew she was being protected.

God almighty.

He pulled a cell phone out of his front pocket. He carried two. One that was his private phone with all the bells and whistles. And one a burner phone that couldn’t be traced.

He chose the burner. He didn’t want anyone realizing he’d returned to the Wildlands.

Parish answered on the first ring.

“You have them?”

Bayon grimaced. The Hunter wasn’t going to be pleased with what he had to say.

“I tracked them to a home just one block north of the schoolhouse in Melton. They’d taken off but there’s a good chance they’ll return. If not, Talon should be able to follow their trail.” Bayon winced at Parish’s brutal reprimand at not having stayed on the hunt for the intruders. “I have a lead I want to investigate. It’s important.” There was another furious chastisement that included Parish’s opinion of idiots who couldn’t follow orders and the threat of Bayon’s manhood being removed by a rusty knife. “Trust me,
mon ami
, you’ll be the first to know when I have info I can share. Oh, and tell Talon that in the attic of the house he’ll find a metal collar. I think it has some sort of toxin on it so he’ll have to be careful, but he needs to bring it back for the Healers to study. It might be important. I’ll be in touch as soon as I can,” he promised before shutting off the phone and shoving it back into his pocket.

Parish was furious, but he wouldn’t hesitate to send Talon back to the house. Which meant that Bayon had a few hours at least to concentrate solely on helping Keira. A duty that might not be his by blood, but was surely his by right.

Keira had always belonged to him.

Even if she’d been too damned stubborn to admit it.

***