Wild Hearts in Atlantis Read online

  A white-haired head popped up from behind the bar, and the tiny woman peered around the room. “Is it over? Kat, that you?” she called, in a slightly shaky voice. “Aw, of course it is. Nobody else has the gift like you do to calm this bunch of jackasses.”

  Kat ducked under Bastien’s arm and started across the room toward Thelma. “Just lucky timing, Thelma. These fine gentlemen were calculating how much money they were going to owe you for the damage, weren’t they?”

  A pair of the fiercest combatants she’d seen in the brawl hung their heads and nodded. One human, one shape-shifter. So, the crisis was coming to a head faster than she’d thought.

  “Thelma, you’ll let them know how much to pay? And I think you can all help her clean up this mess, anybody who doesn’t need to head over to the ER,” she said, pitching her tone to inject an edge of command. Another of her “gifts” she hadn’t told anybody about.

  “Oh, I’ve got it covered, Kat,” Thelma said. “I’ll let you know if anybody doesn’t pay up. But why don’t you get out of here now? No need to stick around, and you probably ought to get to the meeting.”

  Kat stifled her bitter reply and managed to smile. “Okay, if you’ve got this under control.”

  She knew the residual effects of what she’d done would last for a few hours on all who’d been in range. She wasn’t sure exactly how far that range was, but undoubtedly there were some animal predators for a couple hundred yards of the perimeter of the bar who wouldn’t feel like doing anything with their prey but snuggling, at least for a short while.

  She smiled at the concept and turned toward the Atlantean, shoring up her defenses to keep from reacting like a bimbo at the mere sight of him. He was standing no more than two feet behind her, though she’d never heard him move, even with her shape-shifter senses. The look he was giving her was shrewdly considering, as though he knew she’d done something. He couldn’t possibly know what, but something.

  “Shall we go? I’m sure you’d like to get settled in from your journey,” she said, wondering what kind of travel arrangements it took to get from a lost continent buried under the ocean somewhere to a nature preserve fifty miles west of Miami. She glanced at his hand, which steadily dripped blood. “We can take care of that, too.”

  He nodded and glanced to the left and right of her, then almost imperceptibly signaled. Two men she hadn’t noticed earlier stepped toward them, picking their way through the dazed and wobbly humans and shape-shifters. Both had the warrior look to them, although one was some sort of goth punk version, with all that blue hair and the sword sticking up behind him. The other looked like somebody’s kid brother.

  A kid brother who’d seen a lot of battle, she silently amended as she got a look at his eyes.

  Then she realized something else, as Bastien slapped the knife down on a table. Not one of the three acted like her little share-the-peace trick had affected them for more than an instant.

  Which meant they were even more dangerous than she’d thought.

  Four

  Bastien was glad Kat’s Jeep was open to the night air. If he’d been forced to ride in the car, trapped with the scent of her, for more than five minutes, he might have been driven to desperate measures. Like jumping out and taking his chances with a face plant on the dirt road.

  Or asking her to stop the car so he could rip the clothes off her luscious body.

  Desperate measures.

  But the humid weight of the swamp air and the dense greenery surrounding them served to distract him enough that he could keep his hands—including the one she’d so competently bandaged with the first-aid kit in her backpack—to himself. At least temporarily.

  Why did this woman affect him so much? And how was he going to carry out his duties to Atlantis if he didn’t get over it? His duty was to protect humans—all humans. But he would gladly have channeled the forbidden element of fire itself and incinerated the bar and everyone in it if it had meant protecting Kat. He wanted to carry her back to his home in Atlantis and never, ever let her anywhere near danger again.

  A shape-shifter in Atlantis. Ha. Alaric would lose his freaking mind. And Poseidon…oh, his vengeance would be beyond my ability to imagine.

  “Where did your friends go?” Her voice broke into his whirling thoughts. Friendly but impersonal. Probably trying to make small talk.

  “I sent them to talk to a few contacts we have with the human population of the area,” he replied. Then he realized what he’d said and backtracked. She was half-human. Maybe she thought of herself as human? “I’m sorry, I know you’re…I mean, since you work with the panthers and your father was the alpha, we thought—”

  He shoved a hand through his hair and sighed. Again.

  She laughed. Like the woman herself, Kat’s laugh was sultry and full-bodied. Rich and warm, with an undertone of sex.

  Oh, damn. Poseidon, please help your humble warrior here. Because I’m falling down a black pit of lust-induced stupidity.

  He clenched his jaw and stared straight ahead, determined not to look at her again until the Jeep stopped.

  “What is that noise?”

  “What noise?” he countered, senses flaring.

  “That weird…well, it’s almost like a bubbling sound,” she said, sounding perplexed. “Like when a pot boils?”

  He heard it as soon as she said it, the noise he’d ignored before. The noise he’d caused. He’d unconsciously channeled the churning of his frenzied emotions into the nearest source of water. Muttering a few choice words in ancient Atlantean, he drew in a deep breath and sent cooling energy out to the edges of the swamp to stop it from boiling, hoping the change in temperature hadn’t lasted long enough to seriously damage any of the nature preserve’s flora or fauna.

  As the boiling noise stopped, he notice her staring at him, her golden eyes narrowed. “You did that, didn’t you? I could feel some kind of energy surge from you.”

  “You could feel it? What do you mean?” None but an Atlantean, some of the most powerful vampires, or a few of the witches who dabbled in the black arts could feel an Atlantean channel the elements. “Are you a witch? You’re surely no vampire. I can feel the heat of your body from here.”

  Her cheeks burned a hot pink for a moment, and she ducked her head. “You, ah, well. No, I’m certainly not a witch. Why? And quit distracting me, anyway. What did you do to the water?”

  “It’s an Atlantean thing. We channel the elements, especially water. Occasionally, strong negative emotion will siphon off into the nearest water source. I fixed it.” He realized his voice was gruff, but damned if he’d wanted to show weakness on his first day as an ambassador. What had Conlan been thinking? Perhaps love had addled the prince’s brain, as Justice had implied.

  Bastien waited, but she remained silent for a while, headlights picking out the bumpy road in front of them. He sank into his own musings, dire expectations of the dozens of ways he could fail his prince in this mission. He was made for battle. For crushing the enemies of Atlantis and of humanity. Not for delicate political negotiations.

  “Is something wrong?” Her voice was hesitant, but the amusement was still there. “You seem to be heaving a lot of deep sighs over there. I didn’t hurt your manly pride, did I?”

  “My what?”

  “Hey, I live and work with a whole heck of a lot of the most alpha of all alpha males on the planet. I know frustrated pride when I see it.”

  He glanced at her and glimpsed her perfectly calm expression. He also noticed her white-knuckled grasp of the steering wheel.

  She was afraid of him. The knowledge twisted painfully in his chest.

  “I’m sorry, Katherine. Miss Fiero. Ranger Fiero,” he stumbled over the words, in his haste to get them out. “What do you want me to call you?”

  She smiled and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. “Kat is fine. And you are Bastien. Am I pronouncing that right?”

  Something inside him made a weird flipping movement when she said his nam
e. He ignored it. Indigestion, probably.

  “Yeah, that’s it. Mom loved France in the 1500s. She gave us all names from that time period and area. Phillippe, Marie, Antoine, and me. I’m the baby.”

  She whistled. “Some baby. What are you, a family of giants?” Then she winced. “Hey, I’m sorry. If anybody shouldn’t make cracks about size, it’s me. I’m practically a freak of nature.”

  He could almost feel the pain that washed over her bitter words. Wanted to kill whoever’d caused it. Unclenched his fists and wondered if he were losing his mind.

  Turning in his seat to face her as she pulled into the driveway of a small house, he slowly looked her up and down. “If an enemy approaches with such obviously deceitful ploys, you gain the advantage in any battle strategy.”

  She turned off the ignition and set the parking brake, then tilted her head to stare at him with those spectacular amber eyes. “What are you talking about?”

  “In the vernacular, anybody who sold you such a line of crap is a fool, and you will easily kick his ass.” He lifted a hand to touch a strand of the tawny golden hair that had escaped her braid. “You are gloriously lovely and would grace the arm of even royalty, were any mere man to deserve you.”

  The thought of Ven, brother to the high prince, approaching Kat crossed his mind, and he had to clench his teeth against the searing jealousy.

  Yep. Losing it.

  Kat’s eyes widened, and her pupils dilated until she looked almost more like her namesake panther than she did human. “What? You—nobody talks like that. I mean, are you some kind of poet? They sent me the poetry ambassador? But you look like a warrior—”

  She stopped. Smacked herself in the forehead. “Right. You were mocking me. I get it. Well, I’m used to it, so don’t be too impressed with yourself. Been there, done that, got the tracking collar to prove it.”

  Before Bastien could stop her, she was out of the Jeep. He slammed out of his side of the car and focused his energy to flash to the front of the Jeep. He caught her arm as she tried to pass, pulled her toward him with barely leashed fury. “Never accuse me of mocking you again, I implore you.”

  He stared down into the depths of her golden eyes and sank into her. Sank into her soul.

  Was suddenly, desperately ashamed. He released her arm and took a step back. Bowed. “I offer my sincerest apologies, Lady Katherine. I cannot begin to explain what has come over me that I would offer insult or harm to a female. The thought that you believed I would seek to harm you with my words was suddenly more than I could stand.”

  She stared at him, rubbing the spot on her arm where he’d grabbed her. “What—I don’t know what to do about you. I planned to offer you the spare room in my home for the night, but I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

  His body tightened at the thought of resting so near to her. Seeing her out of that uniform, her wealth of hair spread across his pillow. He slowly exhaled, fought again for control. Resolved to seek counsel from Alaric as soon as possible. “I will sleep under the stars so as not to inconvenience you again. Please do not let my impertinent actions threaten your view of my mission or my people.”

  She stared at him for a long minute, and then a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Fair enough. If the entire ranger service were judged by my bad tempers, we’d be out of business.”

  She turned toward the house, headed for the door. He stood, unmoving, watching the sinuous grace of her walk. Her rounded hips that would fill his hands.

  She suddenly glanced back at him. “Well, come on. You can have the guest room if you promise to behave. You did try to protect me from those thugs, after all. There is…there is the small matter of an old debt, as well.” She dropped her gaze, not meeting his eyes.

  As invitations go, it had been neither the warmest nor the most encouraging he’d heard in his nearly four hundred years. But surely none had ever been more welcome. He swung his duffel out of the back of the Jeep, then followed her to the door, shaking his head.

  The poetry ambassador. Wait till Justice hears that one. On second thought, maybe I’ll just keep it to myself.

  Five

  Kat tossed her keys on the table and tried to force her neck muscles to relax. Every instinct she had—both human and feline—was on the alert, revved up into a heightened state of anticipation. And, though admitting it was painful, arousal.

  All because of the man—no, the Atlantean—following her into her house.

  And she couldn’t figure it out. It wasn’t like she’d never seen a sexy man before. Ethan, for example, was flat-out gorgeous. If you liked your men long, lean, hard-bodied and arrogantly alpha, that is.

  She had a feeling her tastes ran more to the poetic warrior/ambassador type.

  She groaned. “I’ve gotta get past this.”

  “Excuse me?” Even his voice was killer. Low and sexy, with a lilting cadence that sounded a bit like a distant cousin to the Gaelic she’d often heard spoken by park visitors from Ireland.

  Squaring her shoulders, she turned to face him. “I have to check on the cubs. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  It’s not running away when I really do need to check on the babies. It’s not.

  She kept repeating that to herself all the way down the hall, hoping that soon she’d believe it.

  Bastien dropped his bag on the floor near the overstuffed couch, wondering what he should do next. She probably wanted some space from the crazy fool he’d acted like in the car. He couldn’t blame her.

  He looked around at the small but cozy room, noting the pictures of what must be her family on a bookshelf. He crossed to it and picked up a frame, recognizing Kat’s strong features and height in the man who stood with his arm around a fragile-looking woman who held a baby. Baby Kat, maybe? The woman had Kat’s golden coloring, but was a tiny thing. Quinn had said Kat’s mother was human. Wonder how hard that had been, growing up as the half-breed kid of the alpha?

  A muffled shriek from the back of the house jolted him to attention, and he shoved the frame back on the shelf and took off at a dead run down the hall, automatically reaching for the daggers he wasn’t wearing. He’d stashed them in the duffel bag in deference to his hostess; that little courtesy might get him killed. No time to get them now. She might be—

  “Kat?” He hit the end of the corridor and burst into the doorway with light spilling out, only to see a totally unexpected sight: Kat sat on the floor, laughing, while four clumsy panther cubs crawled and rolled all over her. Bastien stared at her and felt the breath leave his lungs.

  Serious Kat was beautiful.

  Laughing Kat was a goddess.

  She looked up at him, still smiling. “I’m sorry. Did you hear me yell?” She held up the largest of the four, a male. The cubs had cinnamon-colored reddish coats and white undersides and a funny kink in the end of their tails. “He’s trying to prove he’s fiercer than his three sisters, and nipped my finger pretty hard, didn’t you baby?”

  When she bent her forehead to rub it against the cub’s, Bastien suddenly understood exactly why the creature started purring. He’d purr himself if he could get her to rub his belly.

  “They’re beautiful,” he said, and meant it. “I’ve never seen panther cubs before. Are they—I mean—”

  She laughed again, but this time her laughter held a note of bitterness. “No, they’re not shape-shifters. These are full panthers. And for a while, it was touch and go whether anybody would ever see a Florida panther cub again, the way the humans were murdering them.”

  “Poachers?” He sat on the floor, cautiously held out a hand to the two cubs nearest him. One of them ignored him completely and began to wash her face with one tiny paw, while the other slunk into stalking mode, jumped on his hand, and ferociously attacked his shirt sleeve.

  “No, not poachers, although we have to fight them now, too. Believe it or not, it was perfectly legal to hunt these incredible animals as recently as 1967, when the U.S. Department of th
e Interior listed them as endangered. Damn near too late, too. They were hunted to near extinction by around 1955.” She leaned back against the wall and stretched.

  Bastien tried not to be distracted by how long her legs were. “But they’re doing better now?”

  She nodded, face still grim. “Better. Still not good enough. An agreement with the Texas cougar coalition back in ninety-five helped. We introduced eight female Texas cougars into our panther population to help with the potential inbreeding issue.”

  The male cub curled up on her lap and fell asleep, and Kat absently scratched his ears. “Better and better, still not optimal. Plus, we’re stuck with more of the Texas females than we ever wanted,” she said bitterly.

  The change in her tone puzzled him. “I thought they were important to your own cats?”

  Kat blinked, then seemed to realize what she’d said. “Oh, never mind. I was thinking of entirely another type of Texas cat that’s shown up here. One named Fallon, to be precise.”

  He raised an eyebrow, and she responded to his unspoken question. “We…imported several Texas females ourselves, for similar reasons,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “One in particular, Fallon, doesn’t have much respect for anybody who’s not a purebred, and she’s not shy about showing it. Unfortunately, Ethan took her to mate, so…”

  As her voice trailed off, he read the truth between the lines. Fallon was an evil bitch who rubbed Kat’s nose in her shortcomings at every opportunity. Figuratively speaking. Suddenly, his hands itched to stroke Kat’s hair, to offer comfort of some kind.

  Again, not a damn bit like him.

  The delight Kat had shown while playing with the cubs evaporated, and she stood up abruptly. “I’ll show you to your room, and we can get started in the morning. We’ll certainly have a lot to talk about with Ethan, from what I hear about the big meeting tonight.”