Primal Pleasure: Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3 Page 12

  God, what was wrong with her? Why the hell was she even thinking about falling insanely head over heels when he didn’t even like her?

  “There are only three of them.”

  She jumped at the sound of Cian’s voice. She hadn’t expected him to come around the tree from the opposite direction.

  “Only?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Without answering, he took her hand, pulling her deeper into the forest. “They’ll be able to track us. Running isn’t an option.”

  “You want to fight them?” She wasn’t sure whether to admire his bravery or punch him for being so stupid.

  “There are two of us.”

  Was he serious? Either the poison the arrow had been dipped in had scrambled his brain, or he’d forgotten how things had gone down at Leah’s. “I can’t.”

  He glanced over her shoulder, frowning, but not slowing down. He didn’t ask for an explanation, but she knew he was waiting for one.

  She let out a breath. If they were caught again, it wouldn’t matter if she continued to let him believe the worst about her. She wouldn’t get another opportunity to get away. Gareth would somehow make sure of it.

  “It was the cuff, wasn’t it?” Cian stopped, his gaze scanning the trees. “Its power is still affecting your magic, isn’t it?”

  Hearing the guilt in his voice, she frowned. “My problems with magic are not your fault.” Not even close.

  He didn’t look convinced. “Take off your jacket.” For once she didn’t hesitate. If he needed to see how few tracings she possessed to recognize the truth, that was more than fine with her.

  She slipped out of it and handed it to him.

  “Now climb that tree.”

  “What?”

  He turned her around. “Up. We don’t have a lot of time.”

  “Cian—”

  “Later.”

  Giving in, she used the closest branch to pull herself up, helped along by a firm push on her butt from Cian.

  She paused to look down at him. “What about you?”

  He dragged his shirt over his head. “I’m going to try and throw them off your scent.” He finished stripping and tossed his clothes and shoes into a far bush. “You need to get higher. Now.”

  In the last glimpse she caught of him between thickening branches, he was shifting into his cat form. Giving her one last quick look, he picked up her jacket in his mouth and disappeared into the trees.

  A short while later—maybe longer—she heard a wolf howl in the distance. If the wolves thought they were tracking her and Cian, would they give themselves away like that?

  Either they thought they knew Cian’s location and wanted him to know they were close, or one was closing in on him and called to the others for help cornering him.

  If the slobbering mutts laid a paw on him, she’d—

  A large black cat leaped into the tree above her. “You scared the crap out of me. Again,” she hissed.

  Two piercing green eyes stared through the tree at her.

  Wait. Green eyes? Cian’s were blue—which meant the sleek predator an arm’s length away wasn’t Cian at all.

  For a heartbeat she thought about pretending she didn’t know the difference, and then the cat showed off a mouthful of sharp teeth. Her scent, she realized. The cat could tell by her scent that she was afraid.

  Just not enough to forget how to defend herself entirely.

  With a wave of her hand, the branch beneath the cat snapped and he scrambled to a higher limb, giving her only a marginal head start down the tree. Even then, she hit the ground only a second before the gargoyle.

  Heart pounding, she met the animal’s eyes, refusing to show any fear. She focused on pulling energy into her palm, letting the fire build. “You’ve got about five seconds to go find a mouse to play with or you’re gonna lose your tail.”

  Tension coiled along the cat’s back a moment before he sprang forward. She released the fire, relieved when it didn’t fizzle out this time. Unfortunately, the cat darted to the side at the last second and the fireball slammed into the ground. Her next one grazed the cat’s right flank.

  Growling, the animal lowered its head, one leap away from ripping her apart. She raised her hand for one final strike.

  Inches from her face, a black blur collided with the attacking cat.

  Cian.

  Silky fur whispered across her hand before they hit the ground, ripping into each other as they rolled through the underbrush. Leaves, moss and branches were kicked up as the cats slashed with their claws, their massive jaws sinking into each other’s fur.

  Even from a distance she could hear the sound of flesh tearing, each animal determined to come out the victor. Since both of them were black, it was almost impossible to tell which cat was Cian. The occasional glimpse of their eyes wasn’t enough to tell them apart for more than a few seconds at the time.

  The pair slammed into a tree before one sank its teeth into the other’s neck. The wounded one reared up, shaking the other off its back, hard enough to knock it into a slab of moss-covered rock.

  The cat swayed on its feet, dazed, but instead of facing off against its opponent, it lunged for her.

  Definitely not Cian.

  The ground rushed up to meet her as she dove to the side to escape being pinned beneath the animal. But she wasn’t fast enough to avoid the claws that ripped across her back.

  Crying out, she dug her feet into the earth for traction and heaved herself up. She only made it as far as her knees before Cian knocked her out of the way. She landed on her back, sucking in a sharp breath at the pain that flared between her shoulder blades.

  Twice more she barely got out of the way of the battling animals. Her back came up against a tree as the two broke apart, circling each other.

  A wolf howled, closer now than before. If another gargoyle caught up with them with Cian already wounded…

  Refusing to finish that thought, she made it to her feet as they went on the attack once more, this time ending with one trapped beneath the other. Another gut-churning sound of flesh tearing and then the one on top snapped its head around. Victory gleamed in the cat’s green eyes.

  “No!”

  Her neck tingled as another burst of energy burned hot in her palm. She shot it outward, the purple flame nailing the cat head-on and knocking it away from Cian. It still wasn’t enough to keep the animal from staggering back to its feet.

  Her skin blistered beneath the heat of another fireball, but she held on, letting it build.

  If Cian was—

  Gareth’s gargoyle disappeared beneath a flash of black fur. She looked away as Cian finished him off.

  “Cian?”

  The cat didn’t lift its head until another wolf howled, then he turned and limped toward her. Even though his sleek coat masked some of his injuries, in other places she could see right through the ripped flesh to the bone.

  He didn’t give her the opportunity to look him over before nudging her into a run. It didn’t take long for him to trail her and twice she had to slow down, afraid if she kept going he would drop behind her.

  They finally burst through the trees, and she spotted a house on the other side of the field. “There.” They must have circled back closer to the interstate.

  She looked over her shoulder just as Cian collapsed. Tripping over a tree root to reach him, she dropped to her knees.

  “You can’t stop now. I know you cats are big on napping, but now sure as hell isn’t the time.”

  His eyes drifted shut.

  “Cian. Get up or so help me—”

  The wolves’ howls were growing closer. “If you thought a century as a statue was bad, just wait and see what I do if you don’t haul your furry ass to that house.”

  He cracked open one eye.

  “Cian, please. Get up. I need you to get up.”

  The cat’s limbs shook as he pulled himself up, and he leaned against her as if catching his br
eath.

  “We need to go.”

  He refused to move until she started ahead of him.

  “Are you always so stubborn, or do I just bring it out in you?” She started across the field and Cian thankfully stayed with her the whole time.

  Just as they reached the house, she saw two wolves break through the trees on the opposite end of the field.

  “Inside.” She scrambled up the stairs as Cian used the last of his strength to break the door down.

  If anyone was home, they were about to have the crap scared out of them by a ravaged cat. When no one called out or came tearing through the house at the sound of the door being smashed in, she sent out a silent prayer of gratitude. The last thing she needed to deal with was innocent humans caught in the crossfire.

  Emma scanned the kitchen. “Mirror. I need a mirror.” The bigger the better. Moving through the kitchen, she turned left down the hall. “In here.”

  “Em.”

  At the weak sound of Cian’s voice, she spun from the full-length mirror attached to the sliding shower doors in the bathroom.

  She sucked in a breath so hard her lungs hurt. Cian leaned in the doorway in his human form, coated in blood from the claw and teeth marks covering eighty percent of his body.

  Sweet Avalon.

  “Is it truly that bad?” The words had barely left his mouth and his knees buckled.

  Between the arm she threw around his waist and the vanity, he managed to hold himself up.

  “I’m all right.”

  She would have told him he was insane if she could speak past the thick lump wedged in her throat. Don’t think about it.

  Slamming the bathroom door shut, she flipped the lock even though it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good in keeping the wolves out.

  She faced the mirror and pressed her palms to the glass. Almost immediately, she felt the surface warm.

  “I thought only Fae could enchant a mirror?”

  She ignored the question, trying to focus. She hadn’t attempted to forge her own portal between worlds since she was a child, and at the time she’d used a pond. Water was easier to manipulate than mirrors, and that was without the added pressure of two gargoyles closing in on them.

  The hard surface rippled beneath her palm, and her reflection shimmered twice before finally giving way to a shadowed place on the other side. Too dark to be Elena’s lair.

  “They’re here,” Cian whispered.

  Out of time, she snagged the two towels off the rack next to the mirror, along with the pair of sweatpants draped across the top of the laundry basket, then slipped one arm around Cian’s waist.

  “They won’t be able to follow us.”

  “How unfortunate.” Cian winced as he leaned against her.

  Like walking through cobwebs, the veil slipped over them as they emerged on the other side. In an instant, the tease of ancient magic washed over her.

  “This isn’t…we’re not…” Cian stared at the enormous cavern where they were standing.

  Her stomach turned inside out. “In the catacombs? Yeah.”

  Shit.

  Chapter Nine

  The catacombs.

  The weight of defeat nearly crushed Emma’s shoulders. She should have tried something else, shouldn’t have assumed she had the control it took to cross the veil and end up exactly where she wanted to.

  But the catacombs? Gareth’s dungeon would have been preferable. Hell, even Morgana’s dungeon would have been better.

  “I’ve always been a fan of the scenic route myself.” Cian shifted too much weight to her, and she barely got him to the ground without losing her grip altogether. It was a miracle he’d been able to stand long enough to cross over.

  She grabbed one of the towels she’d brought with them and pressed it to his ravaged neck.

  “Breathe, Emma. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “You haven’t seen it.” And it wasn’t as bad as it looked. It was worse.

  “We were just in front of a mirror.”

  She applied as much pressure as she could, even when he cursed under his breath. “Yeah, and how many Cians did you see?”

  He tried for a smile. “Good point.”

  Blood quickly soaked through the towel, and she grabbed the second one. “It’s not slowing down fast enough. You need to shift back.” She knew his animal form was more resilient than his human one.

  “No.”

  “Could you not be such a stubborn ass just this once?”

  “And miss an opportunity for you to scold me?”

  “Scolding is just the tip of the iceberg, pal.”

  He shifted and sucked in a sharp breath. “I’ll go to stone the second I shift.”

  “Which is exactly what your body needs.” It would take longer for his body to heal if he didn’t, and the thought of watching him suffer until then left her shaking inside.

  “You’re holding your breath again.”

  She snatched up the first towel again, covering another wound on his side that left his ribs exposed. “You have too many injuries.”

  “I won’t leave you unprotected.”

  “Forgetting the fact that I’ve done a fine job of protecting myself before you came along, how exactly do you plan to defend me like this? Bleed all over my assailant?”

  He started to shake his head, his face pale. “Sometimes you talk too quickly.”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “Can’t do it. If you leave—”

  “I won’t.” Careful of his wounds, she took his face in her hands. “I swear to you that I’ll stay right here the whole time.”

  He nodded as if he finally understood. “Because you need me to find your sister.”

  Because she wasn’t sure she could walk away from him, not with her heart intact. Admitting that, though, would make it real, so she brushed her lips across his. “You need to heal.”

  His hand came up to cup the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, not pulling away until they were both breathing hard. He rubbed the base of her throat. “It suits you.”

  “What does?”

  “Your ivy.”

  She frowned, touching her throat. He was in worse shape than she thought if he was hallucinating. Her only tracings encircled her wrists and ran down her spine.

  At Cian’s hesitant nod, she eased away from him, giving him plenty of room to shift. She glanced down at the blood staining her hands, and her stomach twisted. It was her fault he’d been hurt. She should have found a way to keep him out of this.

  A furry head butted her hand and she bit her lip at the sight of such a stunning creature wounded and hurting. Because of her. She crouched down, and Cian rubbed his face against hers, turning to stone when he’d barely begun to warm her skin.

  She lingered beside him until some of the pressure on her chest eased, then she stood and faced the cavern.

  Okay. Now what?

  The white blossoms on the vine-covered walls glowed, giving off more than enough light to see from one end of the cavern to the other, but wandering too far wasn’t an option. Only the oldest Fae could successfully navigate the maze-like tunnels of Avalon’s catacombs, and only those with something of interest to one of the elders could barter for a charm that would lead to the nearest exit.

  Stories of even the bravest immortals losing their way in the catacombs had populated bedtime stories for centuries. Emma wasn’t interested in becoming a story children were told to keep them from exploring the catacombs.

  She’d be fine as long as she didn’t venture too far along any of the tunnels leading away from the cavern, not until Cian finished healing anyway. Then they’d find a way out. Somehow. She’d never heard of a way to cross the veil in the catacombs, the ancient magic here making a stable gateway bridging Avalon and the human realm impossible.

  The catacombs had been created by the Fae during the first Campaign, when the gods had turned on each other, and not even Titania, queen of the Fae, had been able to preven
t the gods from turning their sanctuary into a battlefield.

  Thousands of immortals had been recruited, coerced or forced to fight the gods’ war, making them little more than expendable pawns. Everyone else had become victims caught in the crossfire. Some believed the catacombs had absorbed so much magic throughout the war that the endless labyrinth was actually alive, that it deliberately prevented the immortals who lost their way from ever finding their way out.

  Right now that was Emma’s least favorite tale. Even if she doubted a tunnel could suddenly close itself off as if it had never been there, she wasn’t sure she wanted to risk it. Crazier things had happened than the catacombs coming alive.

  Like a gargoyle believing she was his mate.

  Sometimes magic just sucked.

  Warmth washed over Cian as the cold stone broke away from his body, the chunks disintegrating before they hit the ground. He moved into a crouch at the unfamiliar surroundings, then his memories caught up with him. He turned and spotted Emma immediately, curled up on her side, something rolled up beneath her head to keep it off the ground.

  Fully healed, he padded over to her, nudging her first with his head and then, after shifting back to his human form, with his hand. Her lashes didn’t so much as flutter with either attempt. The female slept like the dead, leaving her vulnerable to who knew how many creatures that could have crept up on her.

  Expecting her to wake any moment, he stretched out beside her. It seemed like a much better use of his time than prowling around the cavern until she woke up. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been stationary, but he’d guessed at least half a day considering how extensive his injuries had been.

  The sorceress could have used whatever magic had landed them in the catacombs to get as far away from him as possible. Instead, she’d kept her word and remained with him. Because of her sister? Or another reason altogether?

  He had barely been able to think straight when they’d crossed the veil. Every inch of his body felt like he’d been run through by a dozen swords straight out of the blacksmith’s fires. Every inch except his heart, because when Emma had vowed to stay with him, he’d believed her.