Still, when he’d entered the apartment he’d forgotten all about the endless days pursuing the traitors.
He’d located the mother lode.
Fake IDs, lists of addresses, and several papers written in code that would have to be deciphered. There were also three laptop computers that the tech wizards could use to gain information.
Talon had gathered it all, including the two male Pantera, before heading home.
Now he just wanted to return to his rooms at the communal Hunter house and collapse.
Giving the chains he held in his hands a tug, he moved through the thick undergrowth, not bothering to glance over his shoulder at the men who were leashed by heavy collars laced with malachite.
They’d given in to the inevitable without a fight, barely speaking on the trip back to the bayou.
That was fine with Talon.
If the Pantera didn’t need the information the bastards could provide on why they’d become traitors and who was ultimately responsible for trying to destroy the Wildlands, he’d have happily killed them and left them to rot in Baton Rouge.
To him, loyalty and honor meant everything.
How could you call yourself a Pantera if you weren’t willing to put the welfare of your people ahead of your own, selfish needs?
They’d reached a narrow canal choked with water lilies when Talon came to a sharp halt. His brows, the same shade of dark gold threaded with copper highlights as his hair, snapped together over his eyes that were a pale gold rimmed with jade.
He could sense a large number of Pantera rushing in his direction.
Never a good thing.
Tightening his grip on the chains, Talon was preparing for an attempt to rescue the traitors when a familiar cat the color of rich caramel with glowing gold eyes leaped gracefully over the canal to land directly at his side.
Instantly he relaxed.
Raphael, the leader of the Suits, had been like a father to Talon after the death of his parents in an airplane crash thirty years ago. Despite the fact that they were only distantly related, and Talon’s faction was Hunters, not Diplomats, Raphael had been the one to visit the school where Talon was being trained in his duties. Whether it was to cheer him on during his athletic competitions or to kick his ass when he’d snuck into the nearby town, La Pierre, and left an alligator in the mayor’s bathtub.
Raphael had also been the one to take him to The Cougar’s Den and get him cross-eyed drunk when the cute little female he’d been chasing decided to dump him for another male.
Talon trusted this man above anyone else in the world.
There was a shimmering swirl of color before Raphael shifted into his human form, dressed like Talon in faded jeans and T-shirt.
A tall man with chiseled muscles, Raphael had a golden beauty that had driven females wild. At least until he’d stunned them all by arriving back at the Wildlands with a mate who was already carrying his young.
It was a miracle.
As long as they could keep Ashe and her baby alive.
Which was why Talon had been sent to track down the traitors.
“Welcome home, Talon,” Raphael murmured, his lean face too pale and his golden eyes shadowed with the brutal fear that was threatening to destroy him.
“Why the welcome committee?” Talon demanded.
“We need to speak.” Raphael’s tone was flat. A sure sign his emotions were on the edge of a meltdown. He snapped his fingers and Sebastian appeared at his side. The Suit was a bronze-skinned male with glowing hazel eyes and a chiseled body that proved he didn’t spend much time sitting behind a desk. His tawny hair was threaded with gold and brushed his broad shoulders. “Take the prisoners to the elders.”
Talon tossed the chains toward Sebastian who curled his lips to growl at the cringing prisoners. Next, Talon shoved the backpack that held the computers and file folders into the Suit’s hand.
“These need to go to Xavier,” he said, referring to the brilliant head of the Geeks. If anyone could coax information out of the computers it would be Xavier.
Sebastian gave an unnecessary jerk on the chains, leading the prisoners away just as Raphael nodded his head toward a thick grove of cypress trees.
“This way,” the Suit commanded.
Following in Raphael’s wake, Talon studied the tense set of the older man’s shoulders and the manner in which he turned his head from side to side, as if searching for hidden enemies.
“This speaking doesn’t involve dungeons and chains, does it?” Talon muttered, not entirely joking.
Raphael sent a puzzled glance over his shoulder. “We don’t have dungeons.”
Talon grimaced, shoving his way past the veil of Spanish moss to step into the small clearing in the center of the trees.
“We didn’t when I left, but things are clearly changing,” he pointed out in dry tones.
“Unfortunately,” Raphael agreed, restlessly pacing over the spongy ground.
Talon rolled his weary shoulders, sensing he wasn’t going to see his bed anytime soon. “What did I miss?”
Raphael turned to meet his worried gaze. “You were already on the hunt when Jean-Baptiste returned with the female voodoun.”
Talon nodded. He’d known the male Healer had gone to fetch the human female, but he’d been headed out of the Wildlands before Jean-Baptiste returned.
“Did she help Ashe?”
“I believe so.”
“Thank the goddess,” Talon breathed, relief shuddering through him.
Raphael’s mate carried the future of the Pantera within her fragile womb. The knowledge that they’d allowed their enemies close enough to put her and the babe in danger laid heavily on all of them.
“Don’t give thanks yet,” Raphael warned.
“Why?”
The leader of the Suits scrubbed his hands over his face. Talon wondered when he’d last slept.
Probably not since Ashe had been attacked and infected with some potent toxin.
“I need to start at the beginning,” Raphael growled.
“Here.” Talon pulled out his silver flask filled with Don Julio tequila and tossed it toward his friend. “Tell me.”
Raphael took a drink, grimacing as the expensive tequila slid down his throat. “As I said, Jean-Baptiste brought Isi to the Wildlands.” Another grimace. “Much against her will.”
Talon arched a brow. “She’s prejudiced against the Pantera?”
“No. For some reason the Wildlands make her ill.”
The Wildlands making someone ill? That was weird.
“I’ve never heard of that before,” Talon said. “Of course, I don’t have enough interest in humans to know what makes them sick.”
“None of us have.”
Talon shrugged. He didn’t really care if she was sick or not. Nothing mattered but Ashe and the baby.
“Did she have a potion for Ashe?”
Raphael turned to glance at the heavy layers of moss that kept them hidden from the rest of the swamp, sending a chill of fear down Talon’s spine.
Was he afraid someone was trying to spy on them?
Were there more traitors?
Shit.
“Actually her mere presence seems to give Ashe strength,” he at last said, his voice low.
Okay. That seemed a good thing.
So why wasn’t Raphael happier?
“I don’t understand,” Talon admitted.
Raphael returned to his pacing. “The Healers suspect that the toxin in Ashe’s blood is targeted to attack the babe. It’s taking every ounce of her strength to protect her child.”
“That makes sense,” Talon said. He’d already heard the poison was manifesting itself like a possession, with an intelligent design to destroy the baby. “What does the female have to do with it?”
“Having her near appears to…” Raphael searched for the word to describe the female’s effect on his mate. “Steady Ashe.”