“No.” She grabbed his arm, suddenly terrified as the roar sounded again, this time much closer. “I’ll deal with him. Let’s go.”
“Fly, bastard!” Enraged, guttural, the demand came as a shadow bounded from the darkness, crouched, maddened rage gleaming in hammered gold eyes. “While you have feathers to do so.”
Cat swung around to face . . . she wasn’t even certain who he was. Whatever Graeme had become, it wasn’t Gideon, and it wasn’t the face he wore before the world now. He seemed taller, broader, so powerful it was frightening.
“Are you fucking insane?” She’d be damned if he was going to intimidate her or harm one of the few true friends she had.
The smile he gave her was frightening; the incisors gleaming with challenge were sharper, longer than before.
The look that accompanied it was one of such male satisfaction it made her claws emerge and flex in warning.
“I would imagine I am.” The rumble of danger in his growl sent a chill racing down her spine. “Now, stand aside so I can convince your friends of it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, they’re friends, and you aren’t touching them.”
His roar shattered the night again. The only reason she didn’t flinch was because she was too shocked by it. Shocked and well aware of the danger surrounding the winged Breeds now. If Keenan stood and fought as he intended to, then they might all die.
“They took you.” This roar, and there was no other word for it, was filled with furious affront. “They called this free. They can deal with it.”
“And how exactly did they call it free?” she snapped caustically.
She was scared to fucking death for Keenan and his men, but not herself. What Graeme had become was terrifying in the sheer power and primal force he displayed. But he was no threat to her. Unfortunately for him, the same couldn’t be said of her.
“They took what was mine.” He paced forward, his gaze locked on Keenan. “Come on, bird man. Come from behind the pretty girl.”
“I’m not the crazy one,” Keenan stated calmly. “I don’t mind a bit letting her stand between us. I like my feathers.”
Graeme sneered back at him. “Coward.”
“‘Sane’ is more the word, I believe.”
“You should have used that sanity and refused to fly her from me, then.” The growl was mixed with such a wealth of frustration that it couldn’t be missed.
As long as she stood between them, he wouldn’t attack. At least not while she wasn’t in danger. He’d have to calm down eventually, wouldn’t he?
“I owe her, Bengal,” Keenan stated then, his tone matter-of-fact. “More than I owe you. And as you’re aware, my debt to you is large.”
He owed her? It was the first time she’d ever known Keenan to outright lie. She didn’t think he knew how.
He didn’t owe her a damned thing. He’d come to her out of the darkness one night while she hunted and informed her that two Council Coyotes were sneaking up on her. He’d disappeared just as quickly.
She owed him.
But what did he owe Graeme?
“Repossession is in your future,” Graeme snapped and though the rage still pulsed around him, it didn’t seem as intense. “Count on it.”
“That’s when you’ll get your fight.” Keenan sighed heavily. “There is no repossession.”
She was going to be asking questions, Cat decided, because she had no idea what the hell they were talking about.
“Graeme . . .” Suddenly, he was in front of her, his back to her, roaring out in challenge as he felt Keenan and his men moving to shield her between them, ready for battle.
From the shadows four figures emerged. Tall, dressed in warriors’ leathers, as silent as death they moved toward them.
The Unknown.
“No. You’ll not have her,” Graeme warned, the monstrous sound of his voice terrifying once again.
Their gazes centered on her, finding her as she stared over Graeme’s shoulder.
Faces painted, eyes gleaming darker than night, they moved forward slowly as even the breeze seemed to move with them. They were the earth, the darkness, the secrets of the land and the protectors of all its secrets.
Cat felt a sob fighting to escape her throat as electric pinpoints of energy began to whip through her body.
“Gideon!” She called out to him in fear as he whipped around and the winged Breeds moved back slowly, away from them, no longer defending, but heeding the sudden breeze pushing at them.
“No . . .” he snarled, catching her as Cat felt the strength leave her body.
She could feel herself being torn apart from the inside out. Her heart fought to beat, yet she could feel it slowing. The blood pounded in her head, trying to push through her veins, yet slowed. Terror sent adrenaline surging into her bloodstream, yet it had little effect.