I narrowed my eyes. ‘But you’re older than him, and you’re not dead.’

‘I’s two hun’red an’ fifty-six. We’s ain’t ageing much once we’s mated, not till one of us passes. Ma mate, Shona, passed last month. It’s why I’s doing the ritual. I’s dying soon anyways. But if the ritual working, then ma nephew gets a mate an’ he’ll live.’

And shifters didn’t die as long as they were mated. It would’ve been interesting if I wasn’t chained up. Still, I felt some satisfaction that Carlson was dying, slightly less that Marc was too. Though if Carlson thought I was going to feel pity for them . . . ‘But I’m not a virgin. So the ritual was never going to work.’

He leaned forward. ‘The ritual ain’t finished yet. If yous shift, then we knows the ritual works. Not like when that chink weretiger tried it an’ killed them tree girls. It may be too late for ma nephew, but ain’t for our other kits.’

It all fell into place. He’d gone ahead with the ritual because even if it didn’t work out fully, he’d hoped to learn enough for next time. I was a fucking experiment.

‘So yous can sit up now, girl.’

The anaesthetic vanished from my body, aches and pains rushed in and I groaned and sat up before I could stop myself.

‘Sorry,’ he said in a tone that didn’t sound it. ‘It takes yous like that.’

I groaned again. Less from the pain and more to give myself time to scope out the cave. Ice slid down my spine as I saw I wasin an ash circle, glyphs glowing at intervals around the circle’s edge, like the one Dilek had been in on the snow-covered plateau. Carlson was sitting outside the circle. I straightened, shoving aside the thick chain dangling from the collar banding my neck. It disappeared beneath the furs, so presumably was attached there. But there was enough slack in it to strangle him, if I could get him close enough. But then if he was that close, I could skewer him with Ascalon.

I looked him in the eyes. ‘What takes you like that?’

‘The mate bond. Means I’s got control of yous. Your body anyhows.’ He smiled, showing normal human teeth. ‘The ritual worked, girl. First part anyways. Yous got a part of me in yous now. Means I gits to tell your body what to do, and it does it. Yous can nod your head.’ Something shifted inside me and I started nodding, anger and fear ripping into me when I couldn’t stop, couldn’t even talk. ‘Yous can stop now,’ he said.

My head jerked to a stop. I glared at him, feeling the strain in my neck where I’d tried to resist him, and an alien magic – his – fluttering to life in my stomach. ‘That’s sick.’

‘Ain’t lasting for ever, girl. Just till the mating’s over. So’s yous ain’t ending up hurting yourself during the first joining. Cats ain’t built the same as humans.’

No way did I want to even guess what that meant. ‘Thought you said it wouldn’t work if I wasn’t a virgin.’

‘This bit does. Next bit don’t. Probably.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘Means we’s both likely gonna die soon.’

Which didn’t answer my question, but I got what he was planning. He might not think mating with me was going to succeed, but he wasn’t going to pass on the chance. He was dying anyway, so he had nothing to lose, even if I did. Except I’d died before, at least three times, and I was still here. Being sidhe and virtually immortal has its advantages. Maybe he was the only one about to snuff it after all. Preferably with a lot of help from me. And, unlike normal cats, it didn’t sound like he’d got nine lives to play with.

‘If it works,’ I said, ‘I’ll kill you.’

He stared at me unblinking. ‘If mate bond takes, girl, yous ain’t gonna be feeling like that.’

That’s what he thought. No way was I going to be forced to mate for life with him, or with anyone.

‘But if I is dying,’ he added, pulling a square-shaped cloth-wrapped package from the backpack. ‘I knows there’s a chance you ain’t, you being a fairy an’ that.’

‘I’m sidhe,’ I snapped. ‘Not a fairy.’

He shrugged. ‘If the lack of mate bond ain’t killing you, then I want yous to look out for ma nephew and his kin.’

I snorted. ‘You’ve got to be kidding. There’s more chance of me taking a swampie home as a house pet.’

‘The blonde girl of yours likes ma nephew.’

He meant Katie. I laughed harshly. ‘She doesn’t know him. And she’s never going to after this. He’ll be dead.’

He nodded, a sharp dip of his chin. ‘Yous ain’t necessarily wrong. Anyhows, if yous surviving, girl, it’s all here. If yous ain’t, then the pride knows to come looking for it.’ He tucked the cloth-wrapped package carefully back in the backpack, then jumped lithely to his feet, dropped his jeans – another fucking commando – and unwrapped the bandage from his torso. Underneath was a raw wound, still trickling with blood. Damn. It looked like someone had carved a chunk of muscle from his left side, right down to his ribs . . . nausea roiled in my stomach as I got it. He’d carved chunks off himself. Chunks he’d forced down my throat. Chunks that were now fluttering faster inside me.

He swiped a hand across the wound. It came away covered in blood. He flicked the blood on to the ash circle. I gasped as the circle set and his unfamiliar magic stretched inside me, as if something warm, wet and slippery was sliding around beneath my skin, a beat reverberating through me like I had a second heart. Carlson fell to the floor, morphing seamlessly into a chunky grey and black sabre-toothed cat. The cat crouched low on its belly, hackles raised, and let out a scream, part challenge, part something else.

My stomach cramped, doubling me over.

The cat screamed again.

My head jerked up, a film passed over my eyes and the light in the cave brightened as if bathed by halogen spots, even as the colour drained away to leave everything, even the flames, in shades of grey.

The cat peeled its lips back and hissed. Part of me was fascinated by the sharp detail of the stripes in its coat, its long, quivering whiskers; another part of me smelled the gamey scent of its blood. And wanted more. Wanted to tear its flesh and crack its bones. I threw my head back, letting out my own scream, the sound vibrating oddly in my still humanoid throat.

The other cat crouched lower, muscles bunching for attack, ears flat, tail swishing.

My stomach cramped again, pain and anger and hunger goading me.

The cat growled low, demanding my obedience.

No way.

I leaped, pushing off with powerful hind legs, claws extended, attacking—

The collar tingled with magic then tightened to a chokehold round my throat, snatching me back even as that alien magic ripped part of me clean away. I soared through the air to land on the other cat’s back. It yelped in surprise, then pain, as I clamped my mouth on the back of its neck, sabre-fangs sinking deep, slicing through muscle, tendons and bone to meet with a snap that jarred my head. The cat beneath me froze in submission, its heart pounding, breath panting from its parted mouth . . . Like the man part, it didn’t want to die. It wanted to take me as its mate, to have more kits . . .

The blood scent from its wound called. My stomach cramped a third time.

This cat wasn’t my mate. It wasn’t worthy.

It was prey.

I shook it.

Snapped its neck.

Killed it.

Fed.

Chapter Fifty-One

Something warm, wet and rough licked my cheek. My eyes snapped open, and I stared up into a huge furry face. It looked down at me with curious copper-coloured eyes, huffed as if to say, ‘Get up, lazybones,’ and yawned wide enough to showcase a gut-liquefying set of sharp, white, sabre-toothed fangs—

I threw myself away, rolling until I slammed up against the invisible wall of the ash circle, the heavy chain and collar choking my throat, and froze, staring at the big cat a few feet away, whiskers gleaming amber, the very tip of its tail twitching. Gradually what I was looking at sank into my mind. The big cat’s coat was a mix of glossy golds, bronzes and dark reds, marked with black stripes. It looked as if someone had given an orange and black tiger a funky metallic dye job. If I ignored the black stripes, its coat matched my hair. And unlike the tigers in the zoo, its pupils were oval, like a domestic cat’s. Or mine.