The Gathering Read online

  “Give me a reason you should.” Hunter glanced from Douglas to the woman. “You two lovers?”

  The woman’s cheeks burned pink, but Douglas scowled. “What is your business on this island, and what were you doing in the enclosure? Hiding drugs? Or were you sent here to steal the lion?”

  “Why don’t you ask the lion? What did you call him? Mukasa? He likes that name, by the way.”

  Institute Man didn’t look happy, though the woman shot him a thoughtful glance.

  “I am asking you,” Douglas snapped.

  “I never carry ID,” Hunter said. “I have no business on the island, I don’t know why I was in the enclosure, and I think taking drugs is the same as shoving your head into a blender. Sex is much better. Now, let me ask some questions.” He shifted his gaze to the woman. “What is your name? Do you like chocolate, why are you alone on an island with a lion and a bear, and if you’re not having sex with Douglas here, would you have it with me?”

  The woman’s flush deepened. “Subtle, aren’t you?”

  “People waste time on subtleties. I’ve watched people live a lifetime thinking they’re sending the right signals and die before realizing they aren’t. Are you going to tell me your name, or do I have to ask the lion?”

  “It’s Leda,” she said quickly, then looked slightly surprised she’d blurted it out. “Leda Stowe.”

  “Leda.” Hunter rolled the name on his tongue. He wanted to lie in bed beside her and unbraid her hair and say that name. Lee-da. It tasted nice. “A woman so beautiful that Zeus took the guise of a swan and wrapped her in his powerful wings to seduce her.”

  Leda continued to blush. Douglas’s frown deepened. He might not be sleeping with her, his glower said, but he hoped to, and he didn’t want Hunter there.

  Hunter scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I need to shower. I smell like lion.” He looked around the bedroom but saw no door to a bathroom. “You do have a shower? Or do you hose off outside?” The interesting picture of Leda washing him off and he doing the same to her tightened his cock a little bit more.

  “It’s on the other side of the kitchen,” she said.

  That meant that when Leda rose in the morning, she’d walk, all mussed and sleepy-eyed, across the house to get to the shower. Any man living here, even if not sleeping in her bed, would see her drift through in robe and slippers or whatever she chose to wear. He imagined fabric clinging to her lithe body the same way the T-shirt clung to her now.

  He moved to the bedroom door, but Douglas blocked his way. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To take a shower, I said.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere near that bathroom before I search you.”

  Leda lost her smile and rolled her lower lip under her teeth. She didn’t know what to make of Hunter, and she wasn’t yet convinced he was not a criminal.

  Hunter laced his hands behind his head and directed his words at Leda, his smile widening. “Fine, then, search me.”

  Douglas had him face-forward against the nearest wall, spread, frisking him before Hunter could take another step. Hunter let him, though he could have blown the man out of the house with a flick of his fingers. He decided to be polite.

  Douglas came up empty-handed, which of course he would. Hunter’s only weapon was the sword they’d already confiscated; his drug of choice, coffee.

  “Nothing,” Douglas told Leda in disgust. “I do mean nothing.”

  Hunter hadn’t bothered to put on underwear before he’d pulled on the jeans back in the house in Minnesota. “Satisfied?”

  Hunter gave Douglas a grin and proceeded out of the bedroom. He found a good-sized room beyond with a kitchen on one end, and living room furniture on the other. On the wall opposite was another door, presumably to the bathroom. Once in the living room, Hunter stopped and spun to face the other two.

  “The world is all wrong,” he said to Leda. “You’re isolated on this island, but you feel it, I know you do.”

  Leda’s lips parted in surprise. Lush red lips. Hunter enjoyed a brief fantasy about frisking her against a wall.

  “You do know,” he went on. “You sense the imbalance. I’m betting it’s why I’m here. Mukasa knows it.”

  Leda continued to stare at him in shock. She was a witch—of course she would have felt the draining of life magic that had become a deluge of late. Hunter needed to find out what she knew about that, and what she knew about the pain that had slammed him before he’d popped up here. After he had a shower in her bathroom, using her towels, her soap, her shampoo . . .

  Hunter grinned at her one more time, then entered the bathroom, all white tiles and feminine smells. He slammed the door shut, stripped off his jeans, turned on the water and plunged under its stream, whistling.

  The stranger sang in the shower. Leda brewed a pot of coffee, desperately needing caffeine after being yanked out of bed at five a.m. and confronted with an incredibly virile and handsome man who confused the hell out of her. Behind the bathroom door he sang in a loud, off-key baritone, anything from Irish ballads to Hank Williams Junior.

  Leda should be terrified of this man turning up out of the blue, but all she could speculate about was what his tall, hard body looked like wet and soapy in the shower. When he’d blatantly asked if she’d have sex with him, she’d nearly blurted out yes.

  It had been so long since she’d even considered going to bed with a man, and here she was imagining in detail what it would be like with Hunter. She knew Ronald Douglas hoped she’d sleep with him, but they’d both recently come off bad relationships, and he was giving it time. She appreciated that. Now, a stranger gave her one smile, and Leda was ready to leap into bed with him. What was the matter with her?

  Ronald sat across the table from her, arms folded while Leda pretended to peruse the newspaper he’d brought. Douglas worked for the Institute for the Preservation of Exotic Species, keeping watch over several projects, Leda’s rescue shelter one of them. He visited officially once a month, but Leda and Douglas had become good friends. He’d let her know he was only a radio call away whenever she needed help.

  “Do you want me to have him arrested?” Douglas asked. “You have grounds. He was trespassing.”

  “Not yet.” Leda felt a curious reluctance to see Hunter taken off the island with his hands manacled behind his back.

  That thought catapulted her into a vision of Hunter, brawny arms pinned behind him, catching her gaze with his hot green eyes. She shivered, rubbing her arms.

  Douglas watched her, waiting for her to explain, and she said quickly, “I want to talk to him.”

  “About what?”

  “He’s right about something being wrong with the world.” She met Douglas’ gaze. “I’m pretty remote out here, but I’ve been noticing bad things going on. My circles have gotten strange—I have to summon some hefty protection any time I want to do even a small spell. The island’s gotten nowhere near the amount rain it should have, and even the fish are starting to seek other waters. You know the gray whales practically live in my lagoon in January, but this year there were only a few, and no calves born. And the newspapers are full of nasty stuff.”

  She pointed to an article about more vampire attacks in the heart of Los Angeles. Usually vampires were fairly civilized and adhered to rules to feed only from the willing fools who pledged themselves as blood slaves. But now gangs of vampires had gone wild, rampaging and killing with abandon. The newspaper said only the assistance of one of the master vampires had kept the city from getting completely out of control.

  Thank the Goddess for small favors and honest vamps. Leda had also read of demons murdering humans and life-magic creatures alike in places as far away as Manhattan and beyond to the U.K. and the rest of Europe.

  “All of which doesn’t make me want to leave this guy on the loose,” Douglas said.

  “He doesn’t seem evil. He’s filled with life magic, though, enough to toss me across the room.”

  “You’re
not making me feel better,” Douglas said. “A complete stranger breaks into your compound, arriving God knows how—there’s no boat or plane or copter anywhere—and you don’t want to have him arrested because he doesn’t seem evil.”

  “Something like that.”

  “You still don’t think Valdez sent him to get the lion?”

  Leda shook her head. “I doubt Valdez would send someone so, well, charming. And definitely not a man who possesses such an amazing aura of life magic.”

  Demons could take the form of seductive men, she knew, and this Hunter was certainly seductive, but no way could demons exude the life magic Hunter did—they couldn’t even pretend it. He didn’t have the look of the Sidhe, but some of the half Sidhe were very humanlike and could be troublemakers. Hunter could also be a witch, but he seemed wrong for that. The only thing Leda knew for sure—this man Hunter was not a normal human being.

  Douglas had opened his mouth to continue the argument when the water in the bathroom shut off and the singing ceased. A few seconds later, Hunter emerged, dripping wet, a towel tucked around his waist.

  Leda closed her eyes. If he was sexy in jeans, in nothing but a towel he was downright devastating. His hair, dark with water, was slicked back from a broad forehead, droplets from the ends beading on his shoulders. The towel revealed the tattoo that his jeans had half hidden, a pentacle—a five-pointed star surrounded by a circle. The symbol of the Goddess and the five elements: Air, earth, fire, water, and the fifth—the all-encompassing element of Akasha.

  Leda had never met a man who exuded such raw sexuality. She considered Douglas attractive, but Hunter was walking carnality. Any woman who met him would want to fling herself between the sheets with him, and Leda got the idea he didn’t protest too much about that.

  Hunter sent Leda a smile as he headed into the kitchen. He picked up a filter heaped with extra coffee Leda had ground and inhaled deeply, closing his eyes in reverence.

  The coffeemaker beeped, its brew cycle finished. Hunter took up the pot and dispensed coffee into a mug. He leaned against the counter, set the cup to his lips, and drained the contents. His throat moved with his swallows, the stubble on his chin flashing gold in the light.

  “Isn’t that hot?” Douglas asked him.

  Hunter upended the cup and caught the last droplets on his tongue. “Best way. You want some?”

  He poured coffee into the mugs Leda had left on the counter and carried all three to the table. Leda switched her gaze to the newspaper, pretending not to watch him approach. Hunter moved like a wild animal, with the grace of a big cat or a wolf.

  Was he Were—a shapeshifting werewolf or werecat? That would account for his extreme life-magic aura, plus his sexiness. Werewolves tended to draw you in with their eyes and most had muscular good looks.

  No, still not right. Leda could tell Weres by their eyes—they had a predatory otherness, as though ready to move into their animal form any moment. Hunter’s eyes were clear, lucid green and regarding her with burning intensity.

  Hunter took the chair next to Douglas and shoved a cup of coffee under the paper at Leda. She hastily thrust the newspaper aside and found Hunter grinning at her, his strong fingers on the handle of her mug.

  She snatched the coffee from him, trying not to touch him. “Why did you keep telling me what Mukasa likes or wants? Are you an animal empath?”

  Hunter lifted his cup and took five long swallows of coffee. He wiped his mouth and licked droplets from his fingers before he answered. “Close, but not quite.”

  “There are animal empaths?” Douglas asked.

  Leda nodded. “I know one or two witches who can communicate with animals. Not exactly telepathically, but they understand them. I’m assuming that’s what you are?” Leda directed the question at Hunter. “A witch?”

  Hunter only smiled. Mr. Cryptic. He gave Douglas a sideways glance just as Douglas’ radio went off. Annoyed, Douglas rose from the table and crossed the room to have a serious conversation into his walkie-talkie.

  Hunter continued to sip the coffee, draining his second cup. He got up to pour another as Douglas returned.

  “I have to go,” Douglas said, clearly unhappy.

  “Hey, don’t worry about us.” Hunter gestured with his cup. “We’ll be fine.”

  “You’re coming with me,” Douglas told him. “Leda is too kindhearted to have you arrested, but I want you out of here. I’ll drop you off on the mainland and let you go if you promise to leave Leda alone and never come back.”

  “Can’t do that.” Hunter put down the coffeepot and took a gulp from his steaming mug. “Promise to leave Leda alone, that is. She needs protection, and I’m protecting her.”

  “The Coast Guard and DEA watch these waters pretty closely.”

  “Not good enough,” Hunter said. “Fine against humans but not against the badness I need to protect her from. Leda won’t be safe unless I’m here.”

  Douglas gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “You’re missing the point. I want Leda safe from you.”

  Hunter sat down at the table and rested one brawny arm on the tabletop. “She’s plenty safe from me. I never hurt innocents.” He sent Leda a wink.

  Leda fingered her coffee cup, trying to keep heat from flooding her body. “How do you know I’m innocent?”

  “I just know,” he answered, then turned to Douglas. “Anyone who tries to hurt her will have to deal with me. Go back to your Institute. Sounds like it’s urgent.”

  Leda hadn’t been able to decipher the blurred radio conversation, but maybe Hunter had better hearing.

  “Yes,” Douglas said, again unhappily. “They need me.”

  “Don’t let us keep you. The door’s that way.”

  “I’ll be all right,” Leda said. She wasn’t sure about that, but she couldn’t keep Douglas from his duties. “I can radio if I need help.”

  “I’ll be back,” Douglas promised, and finally walked out the door.

  After a few quiet, tense minutes Leda heard his small helicopter warming up down the beach. She watched through the window as the copter rose, the air throbbing, then started away into the blue sky, fading into the distance.

  “Never thought he’d leave.” Hunter set down his empty mug and leaned across the table to Leda. “Want to go to bed now?”

  “No,” she answered in a hard voice.

  “You do. You just don’t want to want to.”

  “Douglas isn’t wrong about not trusting you.” In fact, now that the neutral third person was gone, Leda felt the room warming with Hunter’s strange magic.

  Hunter gave her a smile, feral, handsome, and raw. “No, he’s not wrong. I am dangerous, Leda. I am the most dangerous being you’ll ever meet in your life, and that includes vampires and demons. I eat demons for breakfast and spit out vampires. I am fantastically dangerous.”

  Without moving, he sent out a surge of power that slowly filled up the room. The witch wards Leda had placed over the doors and windows splintered and fell away in the face of the incredible power. Then his magic seeped into the lines left as her wards burned out.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Protecting you. Darkness is moving in the world, but this place . . .” Hunter glanced around the sunny room. “This place will be free of it. A haven for you. Don’t leave.”

  “What, not ever? That would be inconvenient.”

  “Why should you want to leave here? It’s beautiful.”

  “I like to go out now and again. I have supplies to buy, people to visit, things to do . . .”

  “For now, you will stay here and not be hurt,” Hunter said, his voice taking on a stern note. “When it’s safe, I’ll lift the wards and let you out.”

  Alarm trickled through her. “Are you saying you’ve trapped me here?”

  “For your own protection.”

  Leda stood up fast. She believed him. She’d never felt magic this strong from anyone alive, or undead, for that matter. “I don’t want to be trapped. Don�
�t . . .”

  “Now you know why Mukasa wants to come out of his enclosure,” Hunter said.

  “That’s different,” Leda said rapidly. “He was hurt. It’s for his protection so he won’t get hurt again.”

  Hunter quirked his brows, and Leda realized what she’d just said. She sat down again. “Are you a god?” she asked on the off chance.

  Hunter’s cup stopped at his lips. “Not . . . quite.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “How did Mukasa get hurt?” he asked.

  Leda stared at him, furious, but Hunter only took another sip of coffee. Leda answered in a hard voice. “A drug lord named Valdez had him tortured to entertain his guests. Chaining Mukasa first, of course, so he couldn’t fight back. I’m surprised Mukasa didn’t attack you. He’s been abused enough to fear and hate human beings, or even beings who look human.”

  “He doesn’t hate you.”

  Through her anger and worry, Leda found herself curious as to what Mukasa thought of her. “Well, I do feed him, and I haven’t tried to hurt him.”

  Hunter set down his mug, rose from the table, and wandered to the wide window that let in a semi-tropical breeze to cool the house. His body drew her attention, especially the towel nearly slipping from his hips.

  “Mukasa is grateful to you,” Hunter said. “He was frightened when he first came here and didn’t know what was happening. But he eventually understood you’d taken him from a bad place to help him. You healed him, yes, but you also gave him back his dignity.”

  Leda came to stand by the open window with him. Below the veranda, black rocks gave way to beach, long stretches of golden sand that encompassed most of the island. To the west of the beach rose sheer black volcanic cliffs, studded with succulents and palm trees. Leda liked to hike up there, to the mountain stream and waterfall that cascaded from the highest peak. A mini tropical rain forest all her own.

  Hunter’s body warmth, damp from his shower, touched her. She wanted to ask him about the tattoo on his pelvis, to see if his eyes would darken with desire as she dragged her fingertips along it.