Chapter 8

Weird. Was there more to this house than she could see? Was there a ghost or some other invisible creature they'd yet to tell her about lurking in the shadows? The thought sent goose bumps skating over her skin and had her starting for the door.

Lyon would know. He could tell her if there was anything to be afraid of. He'd keep her safe.

The thought had her pulling up. Whoa. How had this happened? How, in a matter of hours, had Lyon gone from being a frightening stranger to her security blanket?

Was he really? Or was he merely playing with her emotions again, this time from a distance?

She refused to race out of the room like a scared little girl letting her imagination run away with her. Not that her current situation didn't warrant some trepidation, but feeling ill at ease about the unknown didn't mean there was some evil presence breathing down her neck.

For heaven's sake, she was still in her nightie. And it had to be late. She looked around for a clock. Almost five o'clock. In the evening, she supposed. She'd slept all day.

Kara grabbed the toiletries from her suitcase and headed for the private bathroom. But despite telling herself there was nothing to be afraid of, the feeling of disquiet wouldn't go away. She raced through her shower in record time chanting one word over and over and over.

Lyon.

Fifteen minutes later, Kara started down the stairs, her eyes darting and watchful as she followed the sound of male voices somewhere in the house. All through her shower, and since, the unnatural dread had ebbed and flowed, rising to chill her skin and make her pulse race, then falling again. She hoped she was just being paranoid, prayed that when she found Lyon and asked if there was any reason she should feel spooked, he'd tell her no, of course not. Then he'd introduce her to the rest of the Feral Warriors, men as nice and charming as Tighe, and give her the full tour of the house, which would include a swimming pool or gazebo, or something equally luxury-mansionish, and she'd laugh at her completely unfounded misgivings.

She really hoped that was what happened, because right this moment she wanted to bolt from the house and not stop running until she crossed the Mississippi.

Her nose caught a whiff of roast pork as she stepped onto the painted floor of the foyer, making her empty stomach growl in complaint. She'd never had a chance to eat that soup last night… or anything since. Her trepidation took a sudden backseat to hunger. Maybe Lyon was in the kitchen. And if not? She'd grab something to eat before she continued her search.

The mouthwatering aroma seemed to be coming from the same direction as the voices, down a long, wide hall lined with more paintings. The voices became clearer as she walked.

"I can beat you, dog."

"Don't call me dog."

"Tonight at midnight. Outside the wards. No knives."

The second man grunted. "Deal."

"Morons," said a third voice Kara thought she recognized as Tighe's. "If they swarm, you're both dead."

Kara eased into the doorway of a spacious, window-lined room. Outside, the budding trees dripped with rain against a gray sky, darkening with dusk. Inside, large blue-and-gold birds covered the wallpaper in a dizzying explosion of color lit by a pair of chandeliers half the size of the one in the foyer, yet no less grand. At a table that looked like it might have been stolen from the court of one of the old French kings, sat four huge men. They ate and talked with one another as naturally and casually as if they sat in a rustic kitchen instead of a painfully formal dining room.

"Let 'em swarm," the first man said. She could see him, now, sitting facing the doorway, a shaggy thatch of red hair framing a youthful, freckled face. "Wulfe and I are going hunting, aren't we, my man?"

"I'm not your man."

The red-haired one looked up and saw her, then rose to his feet, prompting the others to do the same. Kara felt her cheeks grow warm. The only one she recognized was Tighe, who was even now slipping on a pair of sunglasses.

He motioned to her with a friendly grin. "Come join us, Kara."

Four pairs of eyes pinned her, watching her with varying degrees of interest and curiosity, making her feel ill at ease in a way that was utterly foreign to her. At home, she was never self-conscious, but. there had never been a reason to be. Everyone knew her and had since she was a baby. She was just Kara. Miss MacAllister to her preschoolers.

But she wasn't Miss MacAllister anymore. She was the chosen one. And what exactly did that mean? How did they expect her to act? Immortal VIP wasn't a role she'd ever imagined for herself. But she did know how to be Kara MacAllister, and she supposed that would have to be enough for now.

Kara took a deep breath and forced her feet to cross to the table where the men stood waiting for her. Watching her. Four of the most physically imposing men she'd ever seen other than Lyon.

Reaching them, she thrust out her hand to the nearest man, the biggest of the bunch. As she looked up into his face, she caught her breath in a small, startled gasp. She had to force herself not to jerk back at the scars that crisscrossed his hard, rugged face. Had he been in an accident? A bad one, by the looks of his nose, which had to have been broken at least half a dozen times.

The scowl on his mouth was only partly due to the scar tugging his lip downward, and she realized she was staring. And still standing with her empty hand outstretched.

"I… I'm sorry." Her hand dropped self-consciously as her gaze rose to his. In his eyes she saw not so much anger as a hardness. And maybe a hint of resignation. "I'm Kara. Kara MacAllister."

Something flickered in his gaze, softening the harsh lines of that badly scarred face. Easing, if only slightly, that scowl. He lifted a hand the size of a dinner plate to the spot hers had been moments before.

"I'm Wulfe."

Kara took the proffered olive branch without hesitation and managed to smile at him. "Hi, Wulfe."

His huge palm closed around hers. "At your service, Radiant." To her surprise, his other hand landed softly on her shoulder, and he started to. close the distance between them as if he meant to hug her.

Kara stiffened involuntarily. Wulfe's scowl returned full force as he jerked back and turned away. She opened her mouth, uncertain what to say to apologize, but an arm around her shoulders startled her into silence.

"Welcome, Radiant." She looked up into the face of the redhead. He was definitely younger than the others, his eyes friendly. "I'm Foxx." He pulled her against his side and slid his hand down her arm.

Were they all coming on to her? Or were they just way too touchy-feely?

She didn't move, couldn't move without risking offending him, too. Finally, he released her and stepped away. All she wanted to do was step back and establish a little personal space, but there were still two men crowding around her.

Tighe stroked her hair gently, then stepped back, as if sensing her keen discomfort. His dimpled smile helped to calm her. "How'd you sleep?"

"Hi, Tighe. I… slept fine."

"I'm glad. You hungry?"

She felt a true smile lift her lips and make it all the way to her eyes.

"Starved." She'd almost forgotten the fourth man until he moved beside Tighe. He was as tall as the others, but without the heavy musculature.

He kept his hands clasped behind his back as he smiled at her. His face was long and strong-boned, his brown eyes alight with curiosity beneath a pair of dark, sharply winged brows. Unlike the others, he made no move to touch her, and she relaxed further.

"I'm Hawke, Radiant."

Hawke was a cool name. So was… Kara blinked. Wulfe. And Foxx. And Lyon. Her gaze flying from one man to the next. "You're all named after animals."

Hawke started to say something, but Tighe coughed, and the man went quiet. "Nicknames, Kara. Someone once said we had the manners of a bunch of wild animals, so we decided to call ourselves by their names."

Kara cocked her head, "Then why are you just Tighe?"

He grinned. "Tiger."

Kara smiled, but the fear that had ridden her since she woke tightened her throat. She sensed nothing amiss. The men were all friendly enough, in their way, yet the feeling she was in danger persisted, as did the certainty that only one man could keep her safe.

"Where's Lyon?"

"You won't find him here." Foxx started back around to the seat she'd seen him in when she entered. "Our chief never eats with his foot soldiers."

"Lyon keeps to himself." Tighe pulled out the chair he'd been sitting in for her, moving his plate down a space to seat her between Foxx and himself. He smiled at her with those incongruous sunglasses, a flirtatious smile that should have had her pulse racing. "Have a seat, pretty girl. When you're through eating, I'll take you to him. Unless I can convince you to stay with me." His grin turned boyish, carving dimples into his cheeks.

Kara found herself smiling back. She hesitated only a moment before she nodded and sat. Tighe grabbed a clean plate from a stack in the middle of the table and handed it to her.

"We have pork medallions, ham steaks, and roast beef. What are you in the mood for?"

Kara looked at the three platters. The only food on the table. "It's all meat."

The men stilled, an odd tension rippling through the air of the room.

Kara wished she could crawl under the table. "It looks wonderful." She felt like she'd made a terrible gaffe. They'd offered her a king's feast, and she'd had to comment.

"I can have Pink make you something else," Tighe said.

"No, this is fine. I didn't mean to imply… I wasn't complaining. I like meat."

As she reached for the serving fork on the nearest platter, Foxx leaned toward her, dipping his head until his face was only inches from her own.

"So, where have you been all my life?"

Kara bit her tongue to keep from laughing. All his life? He couldn't be more than twenty. But at the same time, she felt her cheeks heat from the obvious come-on.

"Have some mercy on her, Foxx." Hawke shook his head, his expression sympathetic. "Why don't you tell us something about yourself, Kara?"

But Foxx wasn't through toying with her. He looped his arm around her shoulders and tilted his head toward her, conspiratorially. "Be careful of Hawke, Radiant. Once he starts asking questions, he never stops. You'll be crying for mercy within the hour."

Hawke's smile was bland. "Better that than having her crying from boredom, kit."

Foxx's smile turned wicked. "Give me an hour with any woman, and she'll be crying, all right. Crying for more."

Kara's cheeks went from warm to hot, her body stiffening. She needed space. She wanted Lyon.

"Cool it, Foxx," Tighe said sharply. "Show a little respect. She's not used to us, yet."

Foxx made a sound deep in his throat that almost sounded like an animal's growl, but his arm slipped from around her shoulders.

Tighe gave her shoulder a quick, gentle nudge with his. "Eat, Kara. You've got to be hungry."

"I… yes. I am. Thanks."

"She can answer your questions later, Hawke,".