Finally, they began to talk around her, the discussion turning to knives and how far they could throw different kinds of blades. At the rabid one-upmanship, so typical of any Friday night bar party in Spearsville, Kara began to relax enough to be able to eat, and even taste the food, which was truly delicious.
Beside her, both Tighe's and Foxx's heads rose in unison. When she lifted her own, she saw three people walking in the door, two more of the large men and an auburn-haired woman who looked like she'd stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine, her slinky, emerald green dress slit nearly to the top of her thigh. In her black stilettos, she carried herself with a seductive grace that left Kara feeling like the country bumpkin she probably was. She wished she'd dressed in something nicer than her khakis and cotton sweater. She wished she had something nicer.
"Any food left?" one of the men said. "Or did you animals wolf it all down?" The man was bald in a sexy-pirate kind of way, though he was dressed more like a lean, muscular biker. A belt hung low on his waist, carrying an impressive, if somewhat disturbing, collection of knives. His black leather vest hung open, revealing a chest as devoid of hair as his head and a short row of scars on his neck that looked oddly familiar. Like the mark on her breast, she realized. Did they all have them?
The man on the other side of the woman had a seriously sinister look to him with his mustache, goatee, and pale, pale eyes. Eyes as cold as they were curious. She realized the newcomers were eyeing her with as much curiosity as she was them. As they approached the table, the men around her rose.
Kara was suddenly uncertain what to do. What was the proper protocol? Should she stand, too? Or was that something only the men did? Her mother had taught her basic table manners, but considering the fanciest restaurant she'd ever eaten at was Bill Barton's Steakhouse, this was way out of her realm of experience.
Tighe exchanged greetings with the bald man in the same way she'd seen him do with Lyon. Almost a handshake, but more, While their free hands clasped the other's shoulder. When they separated, Tighe took the woman in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. But all he exchanged was a glance and a brief nod of the head with the scary-looking man.
To Kara's bemusement, every one of the men went through the same ritual, greeting each in exactly the same way Tighe had. Except for Foxx, who took the woman aside and gave her a kiss befitting long-lost lovers.
Were these three visitors, or just the stragglers coming in to dinner late? Did they really do this all the time?
Foxx released the woman, and Kara felt the woman's cool, assessing gaze turn to her. Kara rose, disliking the feeling of everyone towering over her.
"Could this be our new Radiant?" the bald man asked, releasing Wulfe to turn to her, His gaze was sharp and assessing.
"Kara, Vhyper. Vhyper, Kara," Tighe said with a wave of his hand. "Sit, Kara. Don't make her quit eating, Vhype. The poor woman's starving."
But Kara stayed where she was. She'd sit when the rest of them sat.
Vhyper started around the table, but Tighe called him off.
"You can all greet her properly later. She wasn't raised Therian and isn't used to our physicality." Tighe touched her shoulder briefly, drawing her attention to the other man. "This is Kougar and Zaphene, who is soon to be Foxx's mate. His wife."
Kara swallowed, then nodded and smiled, encompassing the newcomers in a single, quick gaze. "It's nice to meet you."
"Charmed," Zaphene murmured, but something in her tone made Kara feel like the woman was laughing at her.
If Kara could have slunk away without being noticed, she would have.
Tighe urged Kara back in her chair. As soon as she sat, the others took their seats. Foxx grabbed his plate from across the table and placed it beside Zaphene as the three newcomers took seats at the far end of the table.
Kara took a bite, then felt Zaphene's gaze on her and began to grow even more uncomfortable than before. The woman's eyes, filled with an amused pity, stripped her of her quickly waning supply of confidence. She didn't know the first thing about this culture or this world. With growing mortification, she wondered how many mistakes she'd already made without knowing it.
Her discomfort grew until her fork slipped from her fingers with a clatter, jerking all gazes her way. Her cheeks flooded with heat as unwanted tears pricked the backs of her eyes. She just wanted to go home.
"Oops," she murmured, and picked up her glass of water as casually as she could manage, desperately trying to ignore the woman at the other end of the table with her too-sharp eyes.
"Can I get you anything else?" a pleasant, though oddly pitched feminine voice said behind her.
Beside her, Tighe groaned. "Pink…"
Kara glanced over her shoulder and froze, her heart shooting into her throat. The woman was… the creature was… a bird! She was the size of a person, but her legs…were those of a flamingo, and her human-looking hands and face were covered in pink feathers. Feathers instead of skin.
Her glass slipped from her numb fingers and shattered on the plate in a spray of water that soaked her shirt.
Kara jumped up and backed away from the mess… and the bird… her entire body shaking, her scalp tingling as if the hair on her head were trying to stand on end.
"Kara." Tighe said.
"I'm sorry," she murmured at the stricken look on the creature's face.
The sound of Zaphene's low laughter only sealed her humiliation.
"Kara, I'm sorry. I should have…"
As Tighe started to stand, she shoved her palms toward him. "Don't." To her mortification, she felt tears starting to leak from her eyes. "I'm fine. Excuse me."
She half walked, half ran from the room. Immortals. She'd assumed that meant humans or humanlike. The woman was a bird.
And the others.
Her hand clutched, at the wall as she doubled over for one long, horrified moment. Lyon, Kougar, Foxx. Nicknames?
She pushed away and stumbled down the hall, fearing she was going to be sick..
Lyon. Where was Lyon?
The pounding of her pulse in her ears drove her forward. She had to find him. The sound of some kind of sports game on television caught her ear, and she ran toward it. She rounded the corner to find a large, dark-paneled rec room filled with leather furniture and the biggest television she'd ever seen.
Another of the huge warriors sat on the sofa, one arm across his knees, the other casually curling a metal dumbbell with weights the size of bowling balls.
The man saw her, set down the weight, and rose.
"I'm… looking for Lyon."
"Are you, now?" The man was dressed in army fatigues, his hair an unstyled shaggy brown, his lower face covered in a two-day growth of beard stubble. His eyes were hard as he came too close, crowding her.
Kara stepped back, knocking against the wall behind her.
"Are you our new Radiant, then?" he growled.
A desperate lump formed in her throat as she nodded jerkily. "I need to find Lyon."
The hint of curiosity in the man's eyes transformed to something unpleasant, and he pressed his fists against the wall on either side of her, towering over her.
"What do you want with Lyon?" He leaned forward, nearly touching her cheek with his nose, then made a low, animal sound in his throat. "I can smell him on you."
She couldn't move, caught between the wall at her back, the table at her side, and the man himself. "He's not on me. I haven't even seen him since I got up."
"He's marked you. Which was foolish of him since there's been no Pairing. But if he wants to play that game, so can I." He pushed his pelvis against her hip, pinning her to the wall as he rubbed himself hard.
Kara choked, slamming her hands against his chest. "Stop it! Get away from me!"
And suddenly he was gone, jerked backward by yet another stranger, a furious black-haired man with skin the color of a Native American and a scar across one eye that looked exactly like the marks on her breast. Cold fury filled his black eyes.
Her heart froze. The dread she'd been fighting since she woke leaped, sending her into a spiraling panic.
But the black-haired warrior turned that heated gaze on her attacker. "Jag, you go too far."
With a snarl, Jag swung at the other man, raking his fingernails across the man's face. No, not fingernails. Claws. Huge, razor-sharp cat's claws.
Kara shrieked, then clapped her hand against her mouth as ribbons of blood bloomed on her rescuer's face. A face that, even as she watched, transformed into something out of a horror flick. Black eyes shifting, the irises expanding until no white showed, changing to the golden eyes of a jungle cat. His teeth grew, both canines and incisors elongating, sharpening to daggers.
With a roar of fury, the two men attacked one another, tumbling onto the floor in a slash of claws and fangs, barely missing her feet. She stood frozen, staring at them, her mouth wide, chills racing down her spine in a continuous, icy flow. Tremors coursed through her limbs until her entire body was shaking.
They weren't human. She'd known they weren't human, but… but….
Panic raked at her mind as one word, a single desperate cry, screamed through her head and finally found its way out of her mouth.
"Ly-on!"