Hunting the Jackal (3 page)

After long moments, they broke apart, gasping for air. Amarie’s entire body thrummed with want. It curled within her, tightening her nipples, dampening her panties. Desire that she’d thought she’d tamped down flared again, demanding satisfaction.

“What is this?” she whispered, wondering if they could hear the need in her voice.

“The start of something good,” Rashon whispered against her cheek.

“Really good,” Kurik added, nipping her shoulder.

Finally. They pressed against her, and she leaned into them, wanting to taste, to touch, to share twice over. The trill of a cell phone sliced through the anticipation like sleet.

“Crap,” Kurik growled as he unclipped his phone. He stepped back, answered. “Good morning, sir.”

Only one jackal in the clan was called sir. Markus. Amarie watched as Kurik transformed into the soldier he was. “Yes, sir. He awakened this morning. Yes, she’s here, too. We’d like to thank you and the priestess for saving him. Of course, sir. We’ll be there.”

Kurik disconnected. “We have a guard meeting in thirty. Markus said we can meet with the priestess after.”

“I guess that means no celebration breakfast.” Amarie tried not to pout, but she had more than food on her mind. Rashon and Kurik were finally offering what she’d been wanting, and she didn’t want them to have second thoughts. She wanted the good stuff, and she wanted it now.

“We’ve got time for eggs and toast. Our celebration will have to be postponed, not canceled.”

“Dinner then,” Rashon decided. “That way we can take our time. We’ve got a lot to celebrate, and I want to enjoy every moment of it.”

CHAPTER THREE

They made their way to the clubhouse on foot. It was a beautiful sunny day, and several of the clan’s children took advantage, biking and skating along the sidewalk under the watchful eye of several females sitting on a porch a couple of doors down. Markus’s clan had an entire planned community to themselves, a collection of single-family homes and duplexes surrounded by thick woodland that disguised the abundance of high-tech and magical security that protected it. It was so far removed from the rundown small town in the middle of nowhere her former clan called home that Amarie still had difficulty accepting the blessing of her changed circumstances.

The walk also gave Amarie plenty of time to fully appreciate the striking package of masculinity that was Kurik. There was nothing about the red-haired jackal that was small—from his shoulders to his hands and feet and his appetites. Yet his bulk didn’t make him clumsy. Instead, he moved with deliberate and graceful purpose, as unstoppable as the heat rising from the desert. Picturing the play of Kurik’s muscles in the throes of passion made her breathless with want. How did Rashon deal with all that power bearing down on him?

Rashon sidled up next to her. “Great view, isn’t it?” he asked, a knowing and wicked grin lighting his eyes.

She didn’t think to lie. “Amazing.”

“It’s an even better experience. If you’re willing, that is.”

Breath swooshed out of her lungs. “Seriously?”

“What do you think all that kissing was for?” He captured her hand. “I almost died, Amarie. That near-death experience only solidified what I’ve been thinking for a while. If anything, it gave me the kick in the ass to act. You know I love you. Now I’m letting you know that I want you. So does Kurik. We want you, tonight, tomorrow night, the night after. If you’ll have us.”

“Rashon.” She’d dreamed of hearing those words, never believing she ever would. Now dread crawled through her. She couldn’t give them tomorrow, or the night after. She couldn’t give them forever. Male jackals wanted children. The Children of Anubis had lost too many of their kind over the centuries, especially the females. The need to increase their numbers was a biological imperative felt by all the jackals, but not her. Not anymore.

“Amarie?”

“You’ve been the centerpiece of my fantasies for the past three months. But I don’t want there to be any weirdness between you and Kurik or you and me and him. Both of you are too important to me to mess that up. Our friendship is too important.”

“Thank you for saying that.” He lifted their hands, placed a quick kiss on the back of hers. “So how about we just start with tonight and see where it goes from there?”

“All right.” One night. One night to experience the giving and receiving of pleasure, to feel like a normal female. Surely one night of bliss wouldn’t hurt? She looked at Kurik ahead of them, wondering if he’d heard their conversation. Wondering if he agreed with Rashon. The guys had probably already talked it out, but while she knew Rashon liked her, she didn’t really know if Kurik was interested in her on more than a friendly level. Still, after what she’d experienced back home, Kurik’s friendship was a better foundation than she could have hoped for.

She dropped Rashon’s hand as they entered the massive clubhouse that dominated the center of the jackal compound. Guards filled the main area, some seated, most standing in clumps of two or three. All of them fighters, ranging from decades to centuries old, dedicated to standing in the breach against the Lost Ones. So noble, so brave.

So few.

Their race was in trouble. They needed to protect and increase their numbers, and many of the guards had hoped Amarie’s addition would help. She wanted to help, desperately, but she couldn’t in the way most of them preferred. She wasn’t good mate material and did her best to deflect the men’s interest without having to spill the details of her tragic history. All her focus went into using her instant affinity for firearms to be the best guard she could be, protecting the people who’d accepted her into their family, their lives.

Kurik and Rashon flanked her as they always did. She’d only thought of them being protective of their roommate before, but now she wondered if they had been silently claiming her all along. Today she smelled even more like them than usual, and she wondered if the other jackals could scent the change. Could scent the yearning that still spiraled inside her.

She wanted to be with them, both of them. Rashon had said they wanted her too. But if they wanted her for more than sex, it was more than she could give them. It wouldn’t be fair to any of them to lead the guys on, to start something that would only end in misery for all of them, especially her.

Everyone quieted as Markus entered the room, his second-in-command, Hector, behind him. Pride swelled in her. Markus was an imposing, inspiring alpha jackal, someone truly worthy to be called Anapa, clan leader.

Markus surveyed the guards. “We are at the start of a new era. The Children of Anubis will once again stand with the Daughters of Isis, beginning with my bonding ceremony with Tia, great-granddaughter of the Isis high priestess, Aya. Tia will then take the role of Anput, priestess and alpha female of our clan.”

A murmur of excitement swept through the guards. Markus had never had an Anput at his side, relying on the beta couple and militaristic regimens to maintain the clan structure. Tia would be a welcome addition in multiple ways.

“The ceremony will take place here in three days,” Markus continued. “We will have a delegation of the Daughters in attendance. I expect my jackals to treat them with all the honor and respect that I know each of you are capable of. Especially since some of them will be our extended guests.”

Another murmur, this one like a rumble of far-off thunder. Amarie glanced at the men beside her, seeing her surprise echoed in their expressions. Isis witches coming to the jackal stronghold? To stay?

Markus let the speculation build and then raised a hand for silence. “High Priestess Aya and I have agreed in spirit that it would be beneficial to both our groups if some of the Isis witches come here. We will also send a delegation of jackals to the Daughters.”

“How long would the exchange last?” a jackal asked.

“We’re thinking of a seasonal rotation. Primary duties will be the same as they are here—secure and defend, train, learn. I know it will be difficult for some of you to set aside centuries-long animosity. So I will only accept volunteers. It is our hope that closeness will foster understanding and a spirit of cooperation. We’ve lost four millennia worth of knowledge, greater than the loss of the Great Library. This is our opportunity to reclaim it.”

Markus folded his arms behind his back as he looked at each of them. “Now let’s talk about duties and assignments during the ceremony. Something tells me my bride would be unhappy if trouble interrupted our wedding.”

Assignments set, the guards were dismissed. Amarie, Rashon and Kurik remained behind; Amarie wondered why they hadn’t received new guard assignments.

As if he read her mind, Markus said, “I have another assignment for the three of you. Follow me.”

Curious, they followed him down a hallway to the offices. They entered one across the hall from Markus’s office and found Tia inside, standing by a desk unpacking a box. The priestess was even more beautiful than Amarie remembered with her coppery skin and dark eyes , the brightness of her power and personality washing over them like sunlight. “I remember you three,” she said with a welcoming smile, pushing her dark waves back over her shoulders. “It’s good to see you. Even better to see you on your feet.”

Markus stood next to Tia, his eyes gleaming with pride as he introduced them. “Children of Anubis, I present to you Tia Jensen, seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of Aya, high priestess of the Golden Lotus Circle of the Daughters of Isis.”

Amarie bowed, aware of Kurik and Rashon doing the same as they flanked her. “It is an honor to be in your presence, my lady,” Rashon said, speaking for them all. “I thank you for giving my life back to me and saving our clan. I’m in your debt.”

“Funny you should mention that.” She glanced at Markus.

“The three of you will be assigned to Tia’s guard detail. Amarie, as the newest member of our clan, you’re uniquely qualified to help Tia transition to life here. And since there may be times when she’ll need to leave the compound I want you to accompany her at all times.”

Tia gave them a rueful smile. “I’ll try not to be too bitchy about having a protection detail. I understand the need for it, I do. Glad one of you is a girl.”

“It will be my honor to guard you, priestess,” Amarie said, thrilled with being selected for such an important duty.

“We’ll see how you feel in a week.” She grinned. “I can’t wait to hear how you hold your own around so many men.”

“Mostly I ignore them,” Amarie blurted.

Tia laughed. “I think we’re going to get along get great.” She looked at the men. “I hope you guys don’t mind shopping. My first order of business is stocking up the infirmary. I also want to box up some ritual things at my house before Markus has his guys pack everything up. But I have to be back for a ladies’ tea at the betas’ house. Hope you guys took your vitamins because it’s going to be a busy day.”

Amarie grinned, her spirits lifting in the face of Tia’s good nature. Being assigned to the future Anput’s personal guard not only elevated her status, it secured her place in the clan. No matter what happened with Rashon and Kurik, as long as she protected Tia, she would have a place in the clan.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was long after sunset when Amarie turned onto the path that led home after safely delivering the priestess to Markus. Though tired, excitement hummed through her veins. The clan’s future Anput had a bottomless well of energy and an unending compassion. Amarie believed the clan had great days ahead, thanks to Tia.

Kurik and Rashon had parted ways with them after their return to the compound, promising to have dinner waiting when she made it home. More promises had filled Rashon’s eyes, but she’d tried not to read too much into it. Still, anticipation curled deep inside her as she caught sight of the porch light welcoming her home. Were the men inside waiting for her, ready to continue what they’d begun at breakfast? Gods, she hoped so. She wanted them, both of them, with a hunger she’d never experienced before. It made her excited and nervous and apprehensive. She wasn’t a virgin by any stretch of the imagination, but she knew woefully little about pleasing and being pleased.

She opened the front door to the seductive aroma of chocolate cake baking. Her mouth watered instantly, nerves forgotten. “Whatever that is, make mine a double,” she called, unstrapping her holster as she moved toward the kitchen.

Both men stood at the kitchen island, Rashon cutting potatoes while Kurik trimmed steaks. Both wore gray T-shirts and black sweatpants, the standard jackal off-duty attire. “What the lady wants, the lady gets,” Rashon said, giving her a kiss when she joined them.

“The lady wants to know when the steaks will be ready. I’m starving.” She sidled around to offer Kurik a kiss. “Do I have time for a bath?”

“Take all the time you want,” Kurik told her. “It means I won’t burn the cake or the steaks by you and Rashon distracting me.”

“Both of us?” she asked. “Does that mean Rashon’s taking a bath with me?”

“Dammit!” Rashon dropped the knife, sticking his index finger in his mouth. “Look what you made me do. I think I will take a bath with you, so you can make up for my injuring myself.”

“And leave me to miss out on all the fun?” Kurik smiled, but it seemed strained to Amarie.

“I’m injured,” Rashon protested, holding up his finger. “Doesn’t that mean I get a reward?”

“Don’t even try it,” Kurik mock-growled. “If you go in there with her, you won’t come back out. I’ll end up eating dinner by myself.”

“No, no, no,” Amarie cut in, not sure if Kurik was truly teasing or not but wanting to reassure him anyway. “No one’s coming between me and my steak. Or chocolate cake. Rewards will have to wait until after dinner.”

“Don’t make us wait too long,” Kurik said softly, his eyes glinting with promise. “Or both of us are coming in there after you.”

She laughed. “Promises, promises. I’ll be back out in thirty.”

Kurik blew out a breath as Amarie retreated to her bedroom. Being close to the priestess had already benefitted Amarie—if the teasing was any indication. Hearing her laughter had loosened something in Kurik’s chest. He wanted to make her laugh like that. He wanted to make her sigh too, as she had while kissing Rashon.

There was just one problem. He wasn’t Rashon.

His and his lover’s personalities were like oil and water. Rashon had a warm and funny nature that had drawn Kurik like a moth to flame. He, on the other hand, was slow to trust and slower to love. Rashon had broken through the briar patch of Kurik’s emotions, something very few had attempted or even succeeded at. It hadn’t bothered him before, but it did now.

He knew he didn’t make it easy for people to get close, but he didn’t care about other people. Not the way he loved Rashon. Not the way he wanted to care about Amarie. What if she didn’t want that? If she wanted to be with Rashon but not him, what could he do about it? It would kill him to step aside so Rashon could have her to himself, but he’d do it if he had to. If it made them happy. Sacrificing his heart in the process was a small price to pay for the century of joy he’d already had.

“Hey.”

Kurik turned at Rashon’s low voice. “Yeah?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

He took the pan of potatoes Rashon offered him and slid them into the waiting stove. “What makes you think I’m thinking something?”

“I know you, inside and out.” Rashon smiled at him. “So don’t stand there thinking of doing something noble that cuts you out. That’s not going to happen. We do this together or not at all. I would never hurt you that way. Don’t hurt me by trying to cut yourself out, okay?”

Gods damn him. Kurik cleared his throat against a swell of emotion. Rashon was his everything. Didn’t he know that? Now Amarie was quickly becoming a very important part of that everything. Kurik didn’t know if he’d be able to have them both—to experience a part of the easy chemistry Rashon and Amarie generated. He just knew he had to try.

“Think she’ll like our little surprise?” he asked, turning on the stove’s grill attachment.

Rashon grinned. “Well, since she hasn’t stomped back out here to slap us for going through her lingerie drawer, I’d say yes. The real question is, will she wear it?”

“In case she does, I’ll go ahead and get these steaks on,” Kurik said. “I don’t need to burn anything else today. My reputation as a great cook couldn’t handle it.”

He probably should have made something fancier to celebrate Rashon’s recovery and their mutual seduction, but Kurik’s mind simply couldn’t focus long enough to handle complicated recipes. Amarie enjoyed everything he’d put in front of her, especially desserts. It was enough to make him wonder if her old clan lived off the land and whatever they caught in the wild. She never said much about her former life, and he’d never wanted to press her. All he knew was that she was happier than she’d been when she’d arrived, and he thought he and Rashon had a lot to do with that.

Rashon set the table and lit candles as Kurik frosted Amarie’s favorite chocolate cake. He had plenty of frosting left over and took that over to the table. Never knew when extra frosting would come in handy. He’d just plated the steaks and pulled the Greek potatoes out of the oven when awareness tingled along his senses. He looked up and was lost.

Amarie stood a few feet away, a vision that stole his breath and every coherent thought. He’d thought her beautiful before, but now she was more. Sledgehammer more. She’d done something to her hair, something that made her dark eyes stand out. The gloss on her lips made her look infinitely more kissable than ever. The candlelight gave a burnished, sun-kissed glow to her skin. And there was a bunch of skin.

She’d worn the shirt, his shirt, a rich blue silk that Rashon had picked out for him. It looked better on Amarie. The hem stopped at midthigh, and she’d left a good deal of it unbuttoned. The silk caressed her breasts the way he wanted his hands to, revealing the sweet drop of cleavage, the hardened tips of her nipples. The fabric draped over the feminine swell just below where her navel would be, hugged the handholds of her hips. Her shapely legs went on for days, down to trim ankles and bare feet.

Blessed Anubis and sweet Mother Isis.

Kurik flailed behind him, hitting Rashon to get his attention. “Hey, man—” Rashon stopped. Stared. Swallowed. “By the gods.”

“I’m assuming this is what you wanted me to wear since it was left on my bed?” She held her arms out and took a slow spin. “What do you think?”

Right. He was supposed to say something, a compliment about how amazingly gorgeous she was. All of that flitted through his mind, but the only word his mouth could say was, “Legs.”

Her face scrunched up. “What?”

“You’ve got legs.” Rashon finally found his voice, but he didn’t sound any more intelligent than Kurik had.

Amarie gave them a bemused smile. “Both of you have seen my legs before. I wear shorts all the time around the house and when we’re working out.”

Kurik shook his head. “Not the same.”

“Not even close,” Rashon echoed. “This is much better.”

“You’re not wearing the bra,” Kurik said, again stating the obvious.

“No, I’m not.” She put her hands on her hips, causing the silk to gape. “Is that a problem?”

“Gods, no.” His cock bulged against the seam of his shorts, painful and obvious to anyone who cared to look. There was nothing he could do about it except step behind the breakfast bar for the rest of the dinner dishes.

“Let me help.” Amarie took two of the plates from him while Rashon grabbed wine and glasses. “This looks and smells amazing! Especially the chocolate infinity cake.” She sighed happily. “Please tell me you have frosting left over?”

He took a deep breath, drawing in her scent, and damned if he didn’t get harder. “Table.”

He meant coffee table in the living room, not the dining room table, but she figured that out soon enough. Rashon had piled plenty of pillows around the low-slung table to make it easy for them to lounge while eating and drinking. And other things he forced himself not to think about. Not if he wanted to get through dinner without jumping her.

She smiled up at them as she seated herself, candlelight reflecting off the happy shine in her eyes. “This is amazing, guys. We should do this more often.”

“We intend to,” Rashon said, his eyes bright with promise.

“You can wear one of my shirts whenever you want,” Kurik added. He liked the feeling seeing her in his clothes gave him.

“Wear it first,” she said, surprising him. “I like the way you smell, both of you. Your combined scent makes me relax, like wine does. I noticed it a few weeks ago when I fell asleep between you two. I thought about snagging a couple of your T-shirts but thought you’d be creeped out if you knew.”

She dipped her head but not before he noted an endearing flush of embarrassment spreading across her cheeks. “I’m rambling. I guess I’m nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” Rashon said in that tone of voice that always tightened Kurik’s balls. “We only bite if you want us to.”

“Ah.” Amarie’s lips parted on a soft sigh that tightened his body with need. Rashon leaned forward, ready to kiss her.

Her stomach growled.

All three laughed as the heady sensual bubble burst. “Apparently dinner needs to happen first,” she said and then sliced into her steak.

The happy, hungry sounds she made as she dug in were an exquisite torture. One of the reasons he loved to cook for them was to see their enjoyment of his tangible need to take care of them. Now he wanted to push every single dish and candelabra off the table so that he could make a buffet of Amarie’s bountiful delights. A quick glance at Rashon proved that his mate was in the same needy state.

“Distract us so we can actually make it through dinner,” Kurik ordered. “How did the meeting go with our ladies and the priestess?”

“Better than everyone expected, I think.” She paused to savor a bite of potato. “I mean there was a little tension—some of the ladies apparently held out hope that Markus would take at least one of them to his bed, if not as his mate—but none of them could deny that her magical power is a perfect fit for his. And they know how she defended us against her own kin. Once our beta accepted her, the rest of the ladies followed suit.”

Kurik relaxed. The beta could have made things difficult for Tia. No doubt the fact that she was already bonded to two males made accepting the priestess easier.

Amarie took a deep sip of her wine. “Actually, most of them were more interested in the news that a delegation of Isis witches is coming here. Tia seemed to think that there’s a good chance some of the younger ones will want to try to find mates in our clan.”

Rashon dropped his fork with a low whistle. “How did that go over?”

“It wasn’t reality show bad, but it was close.” Amarie shrugged, her mood suddenly subdued. “Some are afraid of losing their partners. Some are relieved that our unattached males will have a chance to mate. And others wonder if the offspring of such matings will still be jackals.”

“It’s a legitimate concern,” Kurik said, pushing his plate aside, wondering at the heaviness that filled her tone.

Amarie nodded. “Tia said as much. Then she reminded us that high priestess Aya is the daughter of a jackal and a Daughter of Isis. Two of Aya’s sisters were jackals. They seemed to accept that, and the last few doubters realized that meant Tia was the great-granddaughter of Sekhanu the great, the founder of our clan. There were no complaints after that. Still, it’ll be interesting to see what happens when the Daughters of Isis arrive.”

“What’s wrong? “ Kurik asked. “Does the thought of the priestesses coming here bother you?”

“No. I think having them here will benefit the clan, especially if they want mates.”

“Then what is it?” Rashon prodded, his tone gentle.

She toyed with her wineglass.. “Maybe we should hold off on this whole intimacy thing.”

Rashon straightened. “Why?”

“Two reasons. One, we’re Tia’s personal guards now. We work pretty well together because we get along well the way things are. Adding sex to it could only complicate things, and complications could have a negative impact on the way we do our jobs. “

“Rashon and I are mates,” Kurik reminded her. “Are you saying that Markus shouldn’t have assigned us to protect the Anput?”

Her eyes widened. “I would never question the clan leader’s decisions.”

“Good. So what’s the second reason?”

“The Daughters of Isis are coming.” She glanced at them from beneath her lashes. “If you’d rather meet them first before you decide, I won’t mind.”

Liar. Kurik hid a grin. She’d mind all right. “Are you sure?”

“No,” she admitted. “I’d mind. A heck of a lot. I’d try hard not to sour diplomatic relations by biting any witch that came near you, but still.” She sighed. “It seems only fair to give you a chance if you want it.”

“We want you,” Rashon said, speaking for both of them. He pushed his plate away. “You promised us a night.”

“I did. And I want it. But—”

Rashon leaned forward, cutting off her words. “Tonight is that night, Amarie. I think it’s time to show you how much we want you.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “But Kurik’s cake...?”

Kurik pulled the bowl of extra frosting closer. Capturing her gaze, he slowly scooped up a finger’s full of the decadent confection. Her lips parted to take his offering, and as much as he would have enjoyed the sensation of her sucking on him, he had other ideas.