“And you.” Bayon flashed a smile of anticipation before he was running across the room and leaping out of the window with reckless valor.
Raphael returned to his mate’s side, staring down at her frighteningly pale face.
She’d been through hell and back in the past six weeks. More than anyone should have to endure. Let alone a pregnant woman.
His heart clenched with regret. God dammit, he had to get her somewhere safe.
“Ashe, will you trust me?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Something connected inside him at her swift, unhesitating agreement. A sense of completion, as if two separate pieces had just clicked together to form a perfect whole.
He paused just long enough to savor the unexpected sensation before leaning down to scoop Ashe off her feet.
“Don’t make a sound,” he whispered next to her ear.
Barely giving her time to wrap her arms around his neck, Raphael moved toward the door, glancing down the hall as he used his senses to search for enemies.
Below them he could hear the scramble of Pantera to meet the unexpected threat outside. Which meant the attackers would be occupied. At least for a few minutes.
Holding Ashe tight against his chest, Raphael darted down the hall and shoved open the door that led to a maintenance closet. He locked the door behind him, then, tilting Ashe’s slight weight so he could hold her with one hand, he gave a leap upward, knocking aside the trap door that led to the roof.
He landed lightly on the flat surface, his finger touching Ashe’s lips as they parted to utter a small shriek.
In the street below he heard the sound of gunfire and a scream of pain followed by the unmistakable scent of blood that made his cat snarl with the need to be in the middle of the fight.
Raphael battled back the instinct to shift.
The only way to get Ashe to safety was to remain in his human form.
Staying low, he headed to the far side of the roof, halting at the edge to once again whisper in Ashe’s ear.
“I need you to hold on tight,” he commanded.
She gave a shaky nod, her dark eyes wide with fear. He paused long enough to brush a kiss over her lips, then with a strength only a Pantera could possess, he jumped off the roof and landed on a nearby branch.
Keeping a terrified Ashe cradled in one arm, and the other wrapped around the branch above him, Raphael crouched in the tree, listening intently to the battle that still raged in the street.
There had been no cry of alarm to reveal he’d been spotted.
So far, so good.
Cautiously, he weaved his way through the branches and easily vaulted to the neighboring tree. Ashe gasped, burying her face in his neck as he balanced on a narrow branch, waiting to make sure they remained unnoticed before repeating his stealthy performance until they reached the edge of the swamp.
Once there, he had no choice but to leap to the spongy ground.
His people were skilled at traveling through the trees undetected, but he wasn’t going to risk dropping his precious cargo.
Not now. Not ever.
Heading deeper into the swamps, Raphael kept his attention trained on the ever-changing landscape. In the bayous the very ground melted beneath his feet. There were no roads, no permanent pathways. Even the lily-clogged canals could be there one day and gone the next.
A perfect place for monsters to hide.
Thankfully he was the most dangerous monster around.
Or he had been until tonight.
He had only a faint buzzing sound of warning before he felt a pinprick of pain in the back of his neck.
What the fuck?
Carefully lowering Ashe to the thick underbrush, he reached up a hand to pluck the annoying barb out of his flesh.
A dart?
He studied the small weapon with a frown, wondering who the hell thought a full-grown Pantera could be hurt by a mere toy.
Then, a strange chill spread through his body, making him shiver, and worse, numbing his connection to his cat.
“Shit,” he breathed, realizing that the poison coursing through his body had made it impossible for him to shift.
“Raphael?” Ashe touched his arm, her expression troubled. “What is it?”
He dropped the dart, gripping her shoulders as he held her worried gaze with a fierce determination.
“Listen to me, ma chère, I need you to run as fast and far as you can.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I’m not leaving you.”
“I can’t shift. My cat…” He gave a low snarl of frustration. “Dammit. Run. I’ll find you.” He swooped down to steal a kiss of raw promise. “I’ll always find you.”
She reached up to cup his face with shaking fingers. “What about you?”
“I can take care of myself,” he softly assured her. “But I need you to take care of our child. Do you understand?”
She bit her lip, giving a grudging nod. “Yes.”
“Trust me.” He gave her a firm push toward the tangle of swamp milkweed that would easily hide her tracks. “Go.”
Waiting until she’d disappeared into the thick foliage, Raphael slowly turned, concentrating on the human male he could sense hiding behind the narrow trunk of a tupelo tree.
“Come out of the shadows and face me like a man, you spineless coward,” he taunted, oddly unnerved by the pharmaceutical barrier that separated him from his cat.
Although he couldn’t shift while away from his homelands—well, until Ashe had crashed into his life—he was always in touch with his inner animal.
To be cut off from that connection was like missing a limb.
Someone was going to pay.
In blood.
That someone stepped from behind the tree, revealing an average-sized man dressed in camo fatigues, with his hair buzzed in a military cut.
Not that Raphael believed for a second the stranger was a part of the armed services.
He’d secretly traveled the globe to meet with world leaders. He easily recognized the crisp movements and precise bearing that marked a trained soldier.
This yokel was a bully who’d been given a gun and the illusion of power.
“I don’t fear an animal,” the man mocked, his square face and beady eyes revealing a confidence that came from his mistaken belief that the gun he clutched in his fingers gave him the upper hand.
“Good.” Raphael moved forward, a taunting smile curving his lips. “Then let’s do this thing.”
G.I. Joe Wannabe frowned, glancing over Raphael’s shoulder. “Where’s the female?”
Raphael prowled steadily forward. The idiot didn’t even realize his danger.
“Why?”
“She has to die.”
Raphael halted, a ball of dread lodged in the pit of his stomach.
It was one thing to suspect the strangers were after Ashe, and another to have it confirmed.
He battled back the red haze that demanded blood and tearing flesh and crunching bones.
Before he ripped the bastard apart he needed information.
“Because she carries my child?”
“Because she carries the magic.”
“Magic?” He frowned, baffled by the unexpected words. “What magic?”
The man narrowed his gaze, belatedly realizing he’d given away more than he intended.
“I’ll find her.” He lifted the gun. “But first I intend to rid the world of an abomination.”
He squeezed the trigger at the same instant that Raphael leaped forward.
It shouldn’t have been a contest.
Raphael was bigger, stronger, and infinitely better trained.
But whatever drug was coursing through his body had done more than put his cat to sleep. His movements were awkward, lethargic.
He slammed into the bastard even as the bullet sliced through his upper shoulder. Pain seared through him, but wrapping his arms around the man, Raphael drove him into the ground, landing on top of him.