He crouched to inspect the numerous buckles and clasps. “Ticklish?” he asked, arching his eyebrow.
“Oh, please don’t,” I moaned, dreading that level of torturous embarrassment. My current predicament was bad enough.
He laughed softly, then deep concentration tensed his face as he fumbled with the straps. It gave me the opportunity to shamelessly study his face. It didn’t seem real; more sculpted to perfection—his jawline impeccably defined, his lips tinted a lush shade of rose. I resisted the urge to reach up and touch his cheek, to confirm that his skin was skin and not porcelain.
“You’re early,” he murmured. “We didn’t expect you for a few more weeks.”
When he was finished untying me, he jumped lithely to his feet and offered his hand. I timidly accepted. He pulled me up and straight into a hug, sliding his hands tenderly around my waist and clasping them against the small of my back. Startled by the affection, I didn’t know how to react. So I awkwardly reached up and placed my hands on his shoulders, fully aware that my body was as rigid as a plank of wood. He responded by curling his arms farther around me, tightening his grip to bring me closer to him. I could feel his firm chest against my own. He was strong—entirely muscle—and yet there was a warmth and softness that I hadn’t expected. I think I’d expected something cold and dead, and he was the furthest thing from it.
I started to relax, assuring myself that he couldn’t know how I felt about him; otherwise he’d never hug me so intimately.
“My favorite human!” Bishop called suddenly, snapping me out of my daze. A vision of Rachel’s wicked yellow eyes and cruel smile flashed inside my head then, making me shove Caden away in fear. Bishop ruffled my hair as he passed by.
Seconds later, Fiona and Amelie came flying in, knocking me over with the ferocity of their hugs.
I glanced over at Caden to see a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. My heart sank.
“Ooh, what’s this?” Amelie said, and she and Fiona began ransacking the bag like toddlers under a Christmas tree, pulling out individual parcels with names scrawled on them in Sofie’s flowery handwriting. The guys stood behind them, shaking their heads and laughing. Where’s Rachel? My eyes casually roamed the cave. Probably lurking in the shadows. Or out slaughtering Bambi’s children.
Fiona pulled out some racy black underwear that she stealthily tucked under her arm, a reserved smile on her face.
“What’s that?” Bishop asked. Fiona smoothly diverted his attention to a pile of men’s clothing and soon both guys were rifling eagerly through their packages.
I sat back against the wall, pleased I could help them in some way, that I had the means. Well, Mortimer and Viggo did.
“Are you planning on staying a while?” Amelie said, pulling out an air mattress.
I frowned. “Is that for me?”
“It’s not for us.”
Right, they don’t sleep. “I don’t know. Sofie packed the—” My words ended in a gasp as Caden pulled his old ratty shirt over his head, exposing a perfectly rippled stomach and sculpted chest. He had a new sky blue crewneck over his head in seconds, but not before I had ample opportunity to stare at him like a pervert, a weird, unfamiliar sensation stirring deep within me.
Fingers snapped in front of my face, breaking my trance. Bishop. I instinctively reached up to my gaping mouth, sure that a gob of drool was trailing over my bottom lip. Please don’t tease me, I prayed.
“Come on, let’s go, before the daylight runs out!” Bishop exclaimed.
“Where?”
He playfully tucked me under one of his powerful arms like a football. “To kill some time.”
The way they had described Ratheus—desolate, medieval, decayed—I was expecting a world right out of Terminator, minus the cyborgs. So to say I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped outside would be the understatement of the century.
Standing on the edge of a plateau–like ledge, I saw that we were deep within a gorge in the mountains, the sky beyond a vibrant blue dotted with fluffy white clouds. A broad, densely wooded valley stretched out below, the lush green leaves of the trees signifying a warm climate. I could just make out a river snaking through the forest, dappled sunlight sparkling off its surface like a thousand tiny rolling diamonds. A crown of snow–capped peaks towered in the distance, protecting the valley from the outside world. It was more of a bowl than a valley.
Enthralled by those daunting peaks, I stepped forward without paying any notice to where I was until the ground suddenly disappeared from under my feet. A split second later a hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I glanced down at the tree tops several hundred feet below and realized I had unwittingly strolled off a cliff. Whipping around, I suctioned myself to the closest thing available. It turned out to be Caden’s torso.
“Have humans learned to fly in your world?” He chuckled, then slid an arm gently around my back and half carried, half dragged me away from the edge. The others didn’t even attempt to hide their amusement.
“You’re safe now, Evangeline,” Fiona said, chuckling.
I reluctantly unmolded myself from Caden, awkwardness taking over where paralyzing fear had left off. “Sorry,” I mumbled, peering up at him, hoping he didn’t think I had done that with the intention of copping a feel or something equally perverted.
The corners of his mouth curved up into a smile. He didn’t seem bothered.
“Let’s go!” Amelie urged gleefully. At some point between Bishop scooping me up and me stepping off the cliff, she had changed out of her old clothes and into a pair of jeans and a casual top. They all had, including Bishop, who was adjusting his striped gray and green shirt.
“You guys look … normal,” I said, grinning.
Amelie hugged herself. “This shirt is so soft. Like furry puppies … Thank you!” She instantly appeared in front of me to plant an affectionate kiss on my cheek before skipping along a natural path that curled down the side of the mountain, her silvery blonde curls bouncing.
“Does it look anything like your world?” Caden asked.
“Yes. I mean, I think so,” I answered, following the rest of them down the path. It was steep and full of loose rocks and altogether treacherous. “I’ve never seen mountains this big before, but I’m sure they exist.” I was having a hard time not stumbling while keeping up with their fast, careless pace.
“You’d better stick close to her, Caden. She’s liable to tumble right off the side of the mountain,” Fiona warned in that smoky voice of hers, adding, “And we can’t turn into bats and catch you.”
I grinned, shuddering. “Good. I hate those things.”
“You know what the best part about today is?” Bishop suddenly asked in a low, somber voice. He paused dramatically before yelling, “Rachel’s gone!” His voice boomed through the valley like a thunderclap. He took off, tearing down the path like a suicidal maniac, laughing hysterically. Fiona and Amelie trailed behind him, disappearing within seconds, leaving me alone with Caden.
I peered up from the corner of my eye, expecting to see a scowl of anger or annoyance with Bishop’s blatant contempt for his girlfriend. Instead, I saw a smile. “So … where is she?” I asked. Please say gone she’s forever!
The smile tightened. “Some sort of tournament she needed to judge.”
Is that disappointment or relief in his voice? I couldn’t tell.
We walked quietly along the rocky path, Caden content to match my snail’s pace as I cautiously stepped around the loose stones. Several times the stones slid under the weight of my foot, sending me skidding. Caden was always there to grab me and pull me back up.
“I’m sorry I’m so slow. I’m not normally this clumsy,” I mumbled nervously.
“Don’t worry. Just because we can run down rocky cliffs doesn’t mean we expect you to.”
The farther into the valley we went, the warmer the air became and the greener our surroundings. Now that I was looking upon the forest in daylight, I had to chuckle. There was no way anyone could mistake this place for Central Park, with its strange trees towering over us, some soaring well over a hundred feet with trunks at least two arm–lengths thick. It looked more like a primeval rainforest, untouched by anything but time. The floor was lush and green, blanketed with giant ferns and protruding tree roots coated in bright green moss and toadstools. Here and there, the trees allowed enough dappled sunlight in to nourish the tiny purple and white wildflowers scattering the forest floor, but otherwise it was shady and damp under the canopy.
I smiled as a butterfly fluttered past us on its way to one of those drifts of wildflowers, its vibrant yellow and orange wings contrasting beautifully with the verdant green backdrop. A family of crickets sang out happily somewhere in the depths of the woods. It was purely serene—hardly a world crawling with bloodthirsty monsters waiting to drink my blood.
I wondered what did live here. “What sort of wildlife is there?”
Silence answered. I turned. And froze.
Caden was gone. My eyes darted about, nervously scanning the woods. “Caden!” I called in a harsh whisper, then held my breath, listening. Nothing. “Caden!” again, this time the desperation in my voice unmistakable.
A branch cracked. “Oh, thank God—” I began, turning.
An enormous black panther stood beside a tree a mere five feet away, the head of a snake locked in its jaws. It placed a paw on the snake’s body and then, with a sharp twist of its neck, it ripped the snake’s head off and tossed it aside. The snake’s body—at least six feet long—dropped to the ground, twitching.
The panther’s attention now moved to me, its ocher eyes regarding me with interest. Or hunger.
I let out a squeak, scampering several steps back before common sense prevailed and I froze. The cat, its freakishly great height and build matching Max’s, lowered its head and sniffed the ground, seemingly unconcerned by my presence. I knew better than to relax, though. There were razor–sharp teeth under that soft, unperturbed muzzle.
I watched in horror as the panther shifted its weight from side to side, then quietly edged in. It moved in close enough that its snout grazed my chest, stopping on my pendant. It let out a low snarl, its lip curling to display a lethal set of fangs.
And I thought I’d die by a vampire bite. I wondered if there was any point in running. Would running make the kill more pleasurable for it? Untestable—my muscles were locked with terror.
“It’s okay, I’m here.” I felt an arm wrap protectively around my shoulder and Caden pulled my rigid body close to him.
I let out a small gasp of relief. “What do we do?” I whispered, trying not to move my lips, my focus glued on the beast giving me a sniff–down.
“Just stay still.”
“Or what?”
“This is Scout.”
“It has a name?” My eyes widened.
Caden chuckled. “Yeah. Like it?”
“Depends on if it’s going to maul me.”
“No. He’s my pet.”
“What do you mean?”
“Bishop and I have a small army of animals to guard the mountains and warn us of any visitors. Better protection.”
The panther named Scout lifted his head to peer into my eyes, his face only inches away. I shrank back against Caden.
“Don’t move. He’s just curious. He won’t react if you don’t surprise him. He knows you’re scared.”
I averted my eyes to the left, focusing on a branch as the giant cat inspected me, unable to bring myself to look him in the eye for fear of screaming. He finally dropped his head to sniff my shoes. Caden kept his arm around my shoulder, holding me tightly to him.
“How is he yours?” I whispered
“I bit him. He belongs to me. I’m his master.”
I frowned. “So, what does that make him? A werecat?”
“We call them werebeasts. They’re a bit different from human vampires. They crave flesh more than blood. They’re immortal and they heal quickly, like us. But they become freakishly big, usually doubling in size.”
“Like Max,” I said, thinking of my giant canine friend. That’s what he was. A werebeast.
I felt Caden nod. “They’re a protector, bound to the person who transformed them.”
“That means Max has a master.” It had to be Mortimer. He had introduced him as his guard dog.
“Yeah, probably. The cool thing is, I can communicate with Scout from anywhere in the valley.”
“How?”
“Telepathically. We can talk back and forth to each other in our heads. He reports in to me.”
“Reports in to you …” I gasped. “Son of a—”
At my unexpected outburst, Scout took three lightning–quick steps back, snarling menacingly.
“Easy, boy,” Caden cooed, sliding in to stand between the panther and me. When the cat finally quieted, he turned to look at me. “What is it?”