Raphael/Parish bh-1 Read online

  “I was trying to protect you,” he growled.

  The rasp of male possession made her frown deepen. Okay, this was something that needed to be nipped in the bud.

  Raphael had the sort of alpha personality that would ride roughshod over her if she didn’t take a stand.

  “A protection that wouldn’t have been necessary if you hadn’t gotten me caught in the middle of your gang war.”

  He stiffened, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Gang war?”

  “That man obviously thought I was with you and wanted to make a point.”

  “We are Pantera, not a gang,” he said. “And we certainly aren’t at war.”

  “Then why was that lunatic shooting arrows at me?”

  He held her gaze. “I don’t know, but it’s you they’re after.”

  A chill inched down her spine. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve lived here all my life without having people trying to kill me.”

  His hand moved to lie gently against her lower stomach. “You weren’t carrying this.”

  She studied his grim expression, the chill spreading through her body.

  “My baby?”

  “Our baby.”

  “But…” She licked her dry lips. “No one knows I’m pregnant.”

  He arched a brow. “No one?”

  She shrugged. “My mother, but she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

  “Not even if she was drinking?”

  She flinched as his words hit a nerve. Her mother was notoriously chatty when she was sitting on a barstool. There wasn’t a person in town who hadn’t heard when Ashe had her first period or when she’d been stood up on prom night.

  Thankfully, people had long ago started ignoring the increasingly incoherent woman.

  “Who listens to a drunk?” she muttered.

  “You might be surprised.” The edge in his voice suggested he’d spent more than a few nights cross-examining an unsuspecting, inebriated fool. “Anyone else?”

  She chewed her bottom lip, knowing the question was important. “My doctor.”

  “Local?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did you see him?”

  “Two days ago.” Her lips twisted in a rueful smile. It seemed a lifetime since she’d walked into the small clinic believing she was suffering from a bout of the stomach flu. “He called earlier today with the results.”

  “Time enough to share the information.”

  She frowned. “With who?”

  He caught her chin in his fingers, forcing her to meet his determined gaze.

  “Until we can find out, I need to get you to the Wildlands.”

  “The Wildlands?” She shook her head in disbelief. Until a few hours ago the name had been nothing more than a place in legend and myth. Now he wanted her to leave her home and travel there? “I can’t.”

  “Ashe, it’s the only place you and our baby will be safe.”

  “But—”

  Her protest was drowned out by a sudden thump on the door.

  CHAPTER 6

  SENSING Bayon standing in the hall, Raphael muttered a curse as he leapt off the bed and headed toward the dresser.

  Yanking open a drawer, he removed a pair of gray sweats, pulling on the bottoms before tossing the matching top to Ashe.

  It was three sizes too large for her, but it did fall to her knees, providing a small amount of modesty.

  It would have to do until he could send someone back to the hotel to pick up her suitcase.

  Pulling open the door, Raphael stepped aside to allow his fellow Pantera to enter the room, his cat keeping a watchful eye on the male to make certain Bayon didn’t stray too close to his mate.

  No doubt sensing Raphael’s unease, Bayon remained close to the door, his pale green gaze never straying from Raphael.

  “Glad to see you back, mon ami.”

  Raphael grimaced. He was still reeling from the combination of shifting despite being away from the Wildlands and the shock of being yanked out of his animal form.

  “I assume you were the one to trance me?”

  Bayon nodded with regret. “Sorry I had to put you out. You were too hyped for me to convince you to return to human and I needed to get you away from the kill.”

  Raphael waved aside the apology. Although it was rare to use the words of power that would force a Pantera back to his human form, he knew his cat would never have allowed his friend near.

  “You did what you had to do.”

  Bayon folded his arms over his chest, his expression grim. “The obvious question, is...why did I have to do it?”

  “Damned if I know.” Raphael’s memories were hazed by the surge of adrenaline that had gripped him from the minute he’d realized Ashe had left the safety of the bar. “I was tracking Ashe when I caught sight of the stranger.” His voice thickened with fury. “When I realized he was trying to skewer her with an arrow, my cat took over.”

  “Did the stranger do anything to you?”

  Raphael arched a brow. “Do?”

  “Shoot you with a poison arrow?” Bayon asked. “Cast a spell? Use a secret military weapon to force you to change?”

  He snorted at the moronic questions. “It didn’t have anything to do with the stranger. I changed when I came close enough to feel Ashe’s aura.”

  Both men glanced toward the silent woman standing in the center of the room. Instantly she held up her hands in a gesture of innocence.

  “Hey, don’t look at me. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Could it be the child?” Bayon suggested.

  Raphael frowned, considering the precise second he’d shifted.

  As he’d sprinted across the dark street there had been terror that he was going to be too late. And a blinding fury that anyone would try to hurt his mate. But his last memory was the sweet smell of lush land and female magic.

  Ashe’s scent.

  “I’m not a medic or a philosopher,” he at last said with a shrug. “All I know is that my cat decided this female was mine at first sight and it wasn’t going to let anyone or anything hurt her.”

  “Maybe the elders have some idea,” Bayon muttered. “We need to get her home.”

  “My thought exactly.”

  “Wait,” Ashe protested. “This town is my home, not the middle of the swamp.”

  Glaring toward Bayon, who parted his lips to demand Ashe’s compliance in his usual blunt style, Raphael moved to stand directly in front of her, his finger brushing over her too-pale cheek.

  “Is it truly your home, ma chère, or somewhere that you live?”

  “I—”

  “The truth.”

  Their gazes locked, her dark eyes revealing the lonely, wounded child who’d been unwanted her entire life.

  Until she’d walked across his path.

  Now she would never, ever be lonely or unwanted again.

  Cupping her cheek in his hand, he prepared to convince her just how desperately he needed her, when Bayon made a sound of impatience.

  “I hate to interrupt, but this touching scene will have to wait.”

  Raphael glared at his friend. “Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?”

  “It’s in my job description.”

  “No shit.”

  Reaching into his back pocket, Bayon held out a scrap of material.

  “Here.”

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.”

  Raphael’s sensitive nose curled at the stench of rotting flesh and something else. That same ‘wrongness’ he’d smelled on the humans entering the hotel earlier. With reluctance, he flipped aside the folded material to reveal the patch of skin cut into a perfect six by six square.

  He hissed in shock.

  Not at the fact that he was holding a slab of flesh. He was a predator who’d just ripped out the throat of a man.

  But at the sight of a brand that portrayed the outline of a raven with wings spread in front of a full moon.

  “Where did you get this?”
<
br />   “I returned to dispose of the body,” Bayon answered. “This was branded on his lower back.”

  Beside him Ashe gave a gasp of horror. “Oh my god, is that his skin?”

  Raphael flinched, wishing he could protect her from the darker side of his nature. Christ, it was bad enough she’d had to witness him tearing apart a man just a few feet away from her without having to endure the gruesome prize he held in his hands.

  Unfortunately, this brand changed everything.

  “The Mark of the Shakpi,” he breathed. “This is—”

  “Impossible?” Bayon took the word out of his mouth. “Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.”

  Ashe cleared her throat, struggling to hang on to her severely tested courage.

  “What is the Mark of Shakpi?”

  “It’s an ancient legend that speaks of the origin of our people,” Bayon answered, his flat tone intended to bring an end to the conversation.

  Of course Raphael’s stubborn mate wasn’t going to be intimidated.

  “And?”

  Raphael took charge of the story. “The legend claims that the bayous gave birth to twins,” he said, sharing the oral history that every Pantera learned while still in the nursery. “Opela was able to call upon the magic of the land, eventually creating the Pantera. Her sister, Shakpi, grew jealous of Opela’s love for her children and tried to create her own children to rule the Pantera. The children twisted the magic, using it for evil, and Opela had no choice but to have her sister imprisoned.”

  Ashe frowned. “Imprisoned in the swamps?”

  He shrugged. “No one knows where she was sent.”

  She gave a slow shake of her head. “There are a lot of stories about the bayous.”

  “Only one that our people believe.”

  “So you really think some mythical woman has escaped from her secret prison and is now going around branding her personal Robin Hoods?”

  Did he?

  Raphael glanced back down at the branded skin, a primitive fear lodging deep in his gut.

  A part of him wanted to laugh it off as an old wives tale. As Ashe pointed out, there were a dozen stories that came out of the bayous.

  But he didn’t laugh.

  He wasn’t human. He was Pantera. A creature of magic.

  And the fact that this brand was discovered when their people were unable to breed…well, it had to mean something.

  “It’s one explanation,” he murmured.

  She pressed a hand to her temple, as if her head was throbbing. “I really have fallen down the rabbit hole.”

  Raphael gave a short, humorless laugh. He felt exactly the same way.

  Six weeks ago he’d been a respected diplomat for his people, in absolute control of his life.

  Now he was mated to a human, expecting a child, and growing increasingly convinced his people were being hunted by an evil, ancient goddess.

  Yeah, that was one hell of a rabbit hole.

  Giving a shake of his head, he thrust aside his rising panic and turned his attention to Bayon.

  “The most important thing is to keep Ashe and our babe safe,” he announced.

  “Agreed,” his friend swiftly agreed. Then they both froze as that now-familiar scent drifted through the open window. “Raphael.”

  “I smell them,” he rasped.

  Bayon pulled a gun from the holster at his lower back, his eyes glowing with power.

  “Get her out of here while I distract them.”

  Raphael didn’t bother to argue. Not only would it be pointless to try and keep Bayon out of a fight, but his duty was to protect Ashe and the child she carried.

  Moving forward he laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ll meet you back at the Wildlands. Take care.”

  “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 trou
bled. “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.”