Exhaustion overtook her thoughts and she cuddled in close to Parish as he kissed her hair and stroked her back until she fell asleep.
CHAPTER 8
JULIA woke to a strange, yet familiar sound.
The emerging light of dawn filtered into the room, casting shadows on the walls and floor. Beneath the covers she was warm, but instinctively she knew that Parish was gone. The hunt. He would need to prepare before dawn.
Meeeooowww.
Julia’s head jerked around to where Parish had lain on his side, holding her, still connected to her as he soothed her to sleep. He was gone, but something else was curled atop his pillow. Julia screeched with joy, and threw off her blanket. How had he managed it? And when?
Rousing from his own sleep, gazing at her with narrowed yellow eyes, was Fangs.
“How the hell did you get here?” she asked the cat, reaching out and scooping him up, cuddling him to her chest.
He immediately balked at the closeness, clawing and mewling until she let him down. When his paws hit the sheets, he took off toward the headboard, leapt onto the edge and remained there, perfectly balanced on all four feet.
That’s when Julia noticed the note, taped to the wood.
He didn’t come quietly. At least until he realized who I was bringing him to.
Fangs is here, Doc.
Now you must stay.
Forever.
I will look for you at the hunt.
Parish
Julia stared at the note for long seconds, then glanced down at her belly, her naked flesh, scored with four silvery claw marks. She ran her fingers over the smooth, healed tattoo. He’d truly marked her as his, and given her his heart in both action and deed. The night before she’d thought about and rejected the idea of a sign. Parish didn’t have to prove anything to her. She knew that now. And yet…he’d gone to New Orleans sometime in the night while she slept. Broke into Gary’s house, and retrieved the only thing she valued outside the Wildlands.
No, this wasn’t a sign.
It was love and caring and listening and hoping. It was everything she’d ever wanted, ever wished for.
She gave Fangs a quick rub under his chin, jumped out of bed and headed for the shower.
“I’ve never seen you wound so tight,” Bayon remarked, his puma shifting in and out of his leaf-green gaze as he readied for the hunt.
“I’m fine,” Parish uttered, his eyes cutting from one entry point to the other.
Where was she?
Raphael had promised to bring Julia early. Didn’t the Suit understand how desperately Parish needed to see his woman, scent her? Christ, he wanted her to see him hunt, recognize that he was a worthy male—that he could provide for her, always protect her.
“Rosalie asked if you were going to the swim afterwards.” Bayon eyed him curiously. “She’s invited the two new apprentices. One of the females is a redhead, both in and out of shift.” He grinned broadly. “What do you say? I’d be happy to share.”
Washing the blood from their skin in the bayou was always done after a hunt, but playing with females held absolutely no interest for him. He started to pace back and forth over the cold ground. “I’m going to my Julia.”
“Your Julia?” Bayon repeated. “Since when does she belong to you?”
“I’ve marked her. She’s mine, my family now.”
Bayon didn’t say anything at first. Parish’s second-in-command was undeniably one of the top Hunters in the Faction, but to him females were for play and pleasure, and commitment was to be avoided. Which made his thoughtful, almost gentle gaze pretty damned significant.
“It’s good to see,” Bayon said finally, as the dawn broke around them and Hunters stalked about in the open field near the shore of the bayou. “You know Keira and I never saw eye to eye—”
“You hated her, and she hated you,” Parish said with a quick grin.
A grin Bayon picked up and held. “Yeah, well. She was a hardass, unforgiving, forgot she was a female most of the time, and probably the best goddamn Hunter I’ve ever witnessed. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“But when she…” Bayon stared at the ground, shook his head. “I thought you died that day too, brother.”
“Yeah,” Parish uttered, his own gaze running the landscape. “Well, maybe I did.” Until her. Julia.
He needed her. He needed her here. Had she gotten his note? His gift?
Christ, he could still taste her. All he could think about was being inside her.
Her body.
Her heart.
Then he caught sight of Ashe and Raphael, walking through the trees. His heart pounded in his chest. Right beside them was Julia. Beautiful, desirable, fearful Julia. For a moment it was as if time stood still. He stared at her over the expanse of vegetation, willing her to look at him, and when she did, when her eyes met and held his, he released the breath inside his lungs.
When Ashe and Raphael stopped to speak with a group of Suits, Julia continued forward. Her face split into a wide grin as she jumped up on a rock and raised something above her head. It took Parish a moment to understand what it was. White and thin. Paper.
His note.
The one he’d taped to her headboard just a few hours ago. And there was something written over his words in big, bold red marker. His heart started to pump loudly, heavily in his chest. Was she refusing him? Was she returning to the outside world with her cat, and the heart he’d claimed last night? He narrowed his eyes to read:
CAN WE BUILD OUR HOUSE NEAR THE BAYOU POOL?
Parish would never be able to explain the overwhelming relief and intensity of feeling that surged through him in that moment, but his puma did. Even in his male form, the cat could not be reigned in. It broke from Parish’s throat, roaring loudly and clearly and happily into the early morning air as its master ran at her. Mine, it screamed. Mine, Parish agreed as he jumped upon the rock beside her and pulled her into his arms.
“Welcome home, Doc.”
“Thank you.” She nipped at his lower lip and grinned. “For everything. Fangs, the magic, for being you. I feel so…”
“Loved?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed. “Yes.”
Parish growled and nuzzled her neck and felt as if his heart would explode from wanting. He had love and family, and he would never allow anything or anyone to take it from him again.
“Where’s my gorgeous puma?” she asked, drawing back, her blue eyes bright.
He growled again, soft and sensual. “I got your puma right here, Doc.” He stepped back, grinned, and in a plume of silver mist, he shifted. He roared into the cool, dawn air, then turned on the rock and called out to everyone present, “I’ve caught the prey of a lifetime, Pantera, but she has come to see a hunt, and we will give it to her!”
Silver mist coated the air around them as they floated down the bayou with the rest of the Pantera spectators. Along with Ashe and Raphael, Julia and two other Pantera, one female and one male, sat within the low-bottomed boat, following the pack of puma Hunters as they raced down river. The strange, six-foot long skiff had no motor, but it was definitely moving through the water as if it did.