Burning Wild (18 page)

Jake glanced toward the room where Emma’s voice could be heard, still murmuring softly to the repairman.

“Evan’s coming to escort him off the property,” Joshua assured.

Jake recognized he had little control and struggled to rein in the leopard, fighting for supremacy at least until he could make certain Emma and the children were safe. It was going to take both Joshua and Drake to control the snarling cat clawing and fighting for a kill. He tried to speak, but mostly what came out was a rumble of madness. “Emma.” He couldn’t—wouldn’t leave until he knew someone was watching over her.

As if that one growling word made sense, Drake snapped an order at Joshua. “Get Darrin in here. Tell him to call up two other hands and guard the house with the kids and Emma until one of the three of us gets back.” Even as he spoke, he ushered Jake out of the house.

Jake could barely walk, his body so heavy and throbbing, so aroused that every step was painful. The leopard fought him every inch of the way, trying to get back, to circle around Drake, snarling menacingly, using mock charges to threaten. Drake snarled back, his own leopard shepherding Jake. Joshua helped the moment he was able, careful to keep a distance as Jake paced back and forth, the growls rumbling louder and more ferocious, but, in effect, herding him toward the truck.

The biggest danger would occur in the close confines of the truck. Drake and Joshua had to rely on Jake to stay focused and hold his leopard at bay until they could get him to the far side of the ranch where they could let him run free.

Drake slammed the door once they had him caged inside the cab and leapt into the driver’s seat. “What the hell is going on, Joshua? I’m not around the house, but this is definitely a thrall. Is there a female close?”

Joshua shrugged. “Only Emma. I’ve been around her dozens of times and she’s never triggered my leopard. Although . . .” He trailed off, glancing at his boss.

Jake breathed harshly, his chest rising and falling in an effort to hold back the change. His skin hurt, shrinking, far too small to cover his frame. He tore his shirt off as the itch spread and something alive ran just under the surface. His brain was filled with a red haze, a dark-edged rage and fierce hunger for one woman. He was consumed with Emma, with the desire for her body, with the need to make her his. He hated every male, desperate to destroy them, understanding the cruelties of his parents as the cat enflamed him beyond sanity.

Fighting it, he hung his head, panting, his mouth full of teeth, his heart savage, his body in lust. He broke out in a sweat, wanting to caution Drake to hurry, but he couldn’t speak, didn’t dare open his mouth for fear his muzzle would be completed. They were miles from safety, barreling over the track to take them to his hidden sanctuary, and Drake and Joshua, the two men he could call friends, were trapped in the small cab of the truck with him, risking their lives to save everyone on the ranch.

Trees and lush foliage resembled a cool, exotic forest where his leopard was free to run in safety without the threat of killing cattle, harming cowboys or being seen. Drake watched over him there, helping him learn to shift on the run, as well as learn the way of the leopard people and how to cache clothes and supplies every few miles just in case.

The atmosphere in the truck remained tense while fur rippled over Jake’s body and claws burst from his fingertips. He shuddered with the effort to hold back the change.

“Fight it,” Drake snapped, his words a command. “You have a strong will, Jake. To be leopard, you have to be strong, to be in control at all times, whether you’re in human form or leopard form. You’re responsible for all actions in both forms.”

Joshua swore under his breath. “We were taught from the time we were young. We had the benefit of the elders at all times. How could he possibly be prepared for the thrall? Most of us can barely hold back our leopard, and we’ve trained for years. He’s going to kill someone.”

“No, he isn’t,” Drake said, his voice firm. “Do you hear me, Jake? Fight for control. When you shift, you’ll think he’s stronger, but he’s still
you.
The core of
you
. You dictate to him. He’ll want to kill any male within miles of his female. That’s natural, very normal, but the feeling will be stronger than anything you’ve ever known, any hatred, any rage, a murderous need that rakes at your gut and roars in your belly. You have to control it. If this happens and you’re near your woman, it’s a thousand times worse, and you have to be careful what you do to her. The instinct to conquer and dominate is overwhelming. Control is everything. Do you understand me? Nod your head if you can hear me and comprehend what I’m saying.”

Jake shredded the leather on the seat, the rumbling in his chest deepening. He nodded his head, trying to absorb the importance of Drake’s statement when every bone in his body seemed to be cracking and splintering, every muscle tearing and every cell screaming in demand for Emma. He knew it was Emma triggering this violent storm of fury. She filled his mouth with her taste; he felt her flesh next to his, was desperate to bury his cock deep inside her. To pound mercilessly. To sink his teeth in her neck and force her to submit completely to him. To admit she belonged to him and only him. Emma.

Oh God, Emma, where are you? Are you safe? Be safe. I need you.
He took a breath, fighting for sanity, fighting to keep her safe in spite of his every need.
No! Stay away from me. What the hell is happening to me
?

His eyes burned. Fear beat in his veins. He wasn’t going to live through this without killing someone. The need rose up like a tidal wave, swamping him, shaking him—worse, the need to cause pain, to hurt someone, as this hurt, this terrible, driving obsession. His stomach lurched, roiled, wanted to heave at the idea that he could be so twisted, so disgusting as to want to torture someone, that he could perhaps derive any kind of pleasure or satisfaction from another’s pain. He may as well be dead. He would be dead before he allowed himself to harm Emma or the children, before he became like his parents.

His sides heaving, his body bent, taking him to the floor of the truck. The walls were too close, the cab too small. He fought to keep the leopard at bay. A few more miles. What was Drake doing?

“His eyes are completely gone,” Joshua reported. “I don’t know how the hell he’s holding on. We’ve got to get him out of the truck.”

Drake stomped down harder on the gas pedal. He was going far too fast for the road conditions, but risking an accident was a better choice than finding himself locked in a small area with a fully grown, enraged male leopard in the midst of a thrall. Drake’s own leopard was fighting for supremacy, ripping and clawing in an effort to protect him. Twice, his stiletto-sharp claws emerged and retracted. He hadn’t shifted since he’d been shot and the doctors had reconstructed his leg, leaving in a metal plate. There was no freedom for him or his leopard.

He jerked the wheel around and slid into the stand of trees just inside the preserve. He yanked a tranquilizing rifle from the rack at the back window and bailed out, Joshua following suit on the opposite side of the truck.

Inside the truck, Jake’s body contorted as he tried desperately to shed his jeans, his claws tearing them into strips. He kicked the torn material away as the change took him, the ropes of muscles doubling, tripling beneath the thick rosette fur.

Drake backed off from the rocking truck, moving out and away from the trees. The hope was that Jake would force his leopard into the forested area. If he allowed the leopard free rein, the male would go for his mate, and they’d have no choice but to tranquilize him to keep him from killing any human males in close proximity to Emma.

Drake hoped it didn’t come to that. To dart a leopard was no easy task, and it came with consequences. Often the heart of a big cat simply couldn’t take the drugs and shut down completely.

The large male leopard went crazy, throwing itself against the walls of the truck, ripping at the seats and slamming into the windows until spiderweb cracks appeared in the windshield.

“He’s gone, Drake,” Joshua warned. “Out of his mind. You’ll have to take him when he tries to bolt.”

Drake stubbornly shook his head. “He’s strong.”

“If Emma is his mate and she’s starting into the Han Vol Don, and they’ve been mated at least once before in another cycle, the thrall will be too strong for a novice. You don’t know what’s inside him, Drake. You said yourself his parents were bred from a corrupt bloodline. He’s dangerous. There could be a massacre.”

“He’ll do this.”

“He’s never heard of the Han Vol Don. How can he understand what’s happening to him?”

“He’ll do this,” Drake repeated. “I know him. His strength. His determination. He’ll control his leopard.”

“Damn it, man. You’re betting your life.”

The truck rocked again and the leopard stuck his head out the open door. It went eerily silent. Still. The fur was dark with sweat. As if sensing a threat, birds fell silent and insects ceased all sound. The leopard lowered his head, golden eyes staring at Drake with focused intent.

“He’s locked on you, he’s locked on you,” Joshua warned, tearing at his own shirt and tossing it aside. He yanked off both boots, keeping his eyes on the leopard.

The leopard leapt from its still-standing position, clearing a good six feet or more, touched the ground and sprang a second time.

“Shoot him,” Joshua implored, tearing off his jeans and kicking them away. He took two running steps and began shifting as he sprinted toward Drake and the leopard.

The leopard hit Drake with the force of a freight train, slamming into his chest and knocking him backward. Drake used the rifle to ward off the powerful cat, although it was a flimsy defense, and the raking claws streaked fire across his chest, just missing his throat.

“Jake. Fight!” He looked straight into the golden eyes.

Joshua’s leopard came in from the side. Jake leapt, spinning in midair to avoid the attack. His mind red with rage, the call for blood filling his thoughts, he barely heard Drake’s voice. He respected Drake. Liked him. Yet he could barely distinguish Drake from his mortal enemies.

Faced with the scent of a human male blocking his way back to his mate, with a male leopard rushing toward him and with a murderous rage in his heart, Jake tried to concentrate on Drake’s voice. He needed something to drown out the roaring of his leopard.

Joshua’s leopard leapt the remaining distance, determined to keep him off Drake. Jake spun, his flexible spine nearly folding double as he whirled to meet the new threat. The slash of the stiletto claws sent pain flashing along Jake’s thigh. For a moment his lungs burned with agony and he drew a deep, shuddering breath. Victory. Victory in pain. Pain was his life, and it steadied him as nothing else could have.

He took hold of his snarling leopard and forced his iron will on the cat. Murmuring soothing words, he promised they’d have their mate soon. He backed the snarling cat up, inch by inch. His leopard fought him every step of the way, instincts warring with his human mind. Jake was strong—stronger than the leopard when it came to his determination—and the leopard abruptly gave in, spinning around and running into the trees.

The leopard ran, putting on a burst of speed to take him deep into the woods. The need for his mate bordered on desperation, and Jake wanted the leopard as far from the ranch and Emma as possible. He had no idea what was happening to him as a leopard—or as a man—but he had to learn to control it before he could possibly make any demands on Emma.

The wind rose and howled through the trees, warning of a coming storm. Darkness spread and with it came the rain. The drops poured down as if the very skies wept for him, wept with him for the vicious cruelty running in his veins. The large pads allowed him to be silent as he moved fast, going deeper into the protection of the woods, trying to outrun himself and his ugly, brutal nature. He had feared his entire life that he would be like them—the enemies—and a part of him had tried to convince himself it wasn’t so, but the way his body and his mind burned obsessively for Emma, the way he reacted each time he saw her, the violent emotions swirling in his belly all told a different story.

The leopard turned his face up to the rain and wind, allowing it to sweep over him, hoping it would cleanse him. The storm increased in strength, the wind whipping through the trees, bending samplings, tearing off leaves and cracking smaller boughs so that debris rained down on him. The wind on his fur felt right, the storm adding to the leopard’s edgy mood. He was free. He could lose himself here, where the trees and the water drowned out the noise of the city. Where no one could stop him from taking his prey as he was meant to do. There was music in the wind and leaves, kinship with the animals and birds. He belonged somewhere. He ran free, going for miles even when his heart felt as though it was bursting and his breath came in great puffs of vapor.

He came to a swollen stream and plunged in without hesitation, uncaring that the current caught at him, buffeting the large cat and sweeping him down toward a bend. Branches hit him hard, rolling him under, and he came up snarling and spitting, using his heavy, roped muscles to power him to the edge where he could drag himself onto land.

He stood, head down, sides heaving, fighting for breath, fighting himself. What the hell was he doing? He had set himself on a course of revenge and somewhere along the line that course had altered. He didn’t understand emotion and he didn’t trust it. His emotions were too violent, too intense, and he was too capable of hurting others.

The pain from the claw rakes on his side reminded him of every single victory of his childhood, every time he exerted control, every time he built his determination to survive and grow strong. The leopard lay down under a large tree, the umbrella of leaves and branches swaying wildly with the turbulent wind, allowing the rain to continually pour down on him, cooling the heat of his body and the wildness of his mind.

Drake had been with him for two years. Joshua had followed, leaving the rain forest to try a different life. He was more easygoing than Drake, laughed more, but behind his green eyes were dark shadows. Jake hadn’t pried when Joshua had asked for a job. Jake knew he was leopard, a friend of Drake’s, and although a part of him was envious at the easy relationship between the two men who had grown up together—leaving him to be an outsider looking in—he was still grateful to have a second leopard to help instruct him. Neither had ever said he would feel like this—complete meltdown.