Lora Leigh - Enthralled

In loving memory of the greatest aunt a niece could have. Dorothy Sugar Babe Few Lucas. You are missed. Not just for your laughter, your witty replies, and generous spirit. You are missed, just because you were you.

I love you, Aunt Sugie.

There was Death, and she faded into the shadows.

There was Slaughter, and he disappeared as dust into the wind.

There was the Lyon, who sought vengeance in the darkness, then found the light of love.

There was the Jaguar, who was the darkness, but found the heart that saved his soul.

There were so many.

There were all who knew vengeance, who knew retribution, and they succumbed to the greatest weakness man or beast could ever know.

They succumbed to the hearts they should have never possessed.

And now, the forces of mans greatest ally and his most cherished creator have looked down upon a heart that all have claimed to be black, to be without mercy or compassion, and felt Himself soften.

For mercy resides in quantities that are vast while compassion slices His soul with each act of justice hes forced to mete out.

The one they call Devil. The one they say is the darkest of all Breeds created.

The one his creator has guided to ensure his hand had dealt the blow of justice needed to ensure the existence of the Breeds. The one for whom his creator has planned the most cherished of all gifts.

The Lyon now guides his Pride.

Slaughter now slays only the demons that risk his love.

The Jaguar now prowls only the darkness of his own lair while the bogeyman of the Breeds, the warrior Warrant, is the champion of love.

Each has received the truest gift of all, that gift of love.

Now the Devil will receive his as well.

The creator lifted his hand, his smile gentle, compassion and mercy guiding his actions as he brought revelations, hid from the Devils enemies those secrets that would have harmed the coming gift, and laid in place each emotion, each hunger, each separate hormone and cell, the qualities needed to ensure a match none could have expected.

A mating.

A priceless, unending love.

Its now time to give the Devil his due.

Barrett OSullivan stared at the tinytoo, too tinyform of the child that his best friend had followed him into hell to save.

So tiny.

A little scrap of flesh and bones that was all of nine years of age, but he swore she could be barely four if she was a day.

Now Jorn Langer, the friend who had uncovered the secret of these labs, the secret of this child, lay on the cement floor next to her, his blood staining the icy stone below.

God, it was so cold.

Barrett could feel the chill surrounding him seeping into his soul, into that place within his heart, within his consciousness, that brought the realization that once again, his life was changing.

Surrounded by that cold, his naked child lay, her skin nearly blue. The wealth of long, Irish red ringlets cascaded on the floor around her to mix with the blood of her rescuer. Irish cream flesh shadowed by the tint of freezing blue glistened beneath the ringlets.

Echoing screams, shouted orders, bestial growls and animalistic snarls were like a hellish symphony invading the lab where Jorns greatest battle had been fought. The battle to save the child Barrett hadnt even known existed until days before.

Fuck me, Bar, Jorn whispered weakly, his accent thickened by pain as thick Norse white blond lashes lifted to stare up at Barrett blearily. Im gonna die, lad. Helluva way to go.

The hell you are. Kneeling quickly, Barrett checked the wound to his chest and knew his friend wasnt lying. He was dying.

God help him. This man was as much his brother as any blood could be, and he was dying.

Dont you die on me, Jorn, he whispered, suddenly desperate.

All their lives it had been Jorn who had gotten Barretts ass out of trouble, and who had gotten his ass into trouble. This was the man who had watched over him, laughed with him, fought with him.

Got no choice, boyo, Jorn wheezed, his ruddy face pale now, the blood spilling too quickly from his chest.

Your daughter, Bar. Jorn nodded to the child next to him.

Her breathing was slow and easy, but she was so stiff with cold.

Barrett all but tore his jacket off and quickly wrapped it around the girls nude body, wondering why he hadnt done so the moment he stepped into the room.

She lay against Jorns bleeding chest, her weight so slight she couldnt have increased the rate of blood loss, but still, Barrett moved to lift her from her resting place.

No! Jorns arm tightened around her slight form. Not yet. Let me hold this little angel for a moment. She reminds me of Khileen. My sweet, little Khileen.

His daughter. She was barely five, and she was the light of Jorns life.

They both stared at the fall of hair. There was so much hair and so little child.

Hide her, Jorn whispered, turning back to Barrett. Remember the file I found, Bar. Dont let anyone know. They cant know shes yours and Kellas. Swear it, Bar.

I swear it.

No one could know. It would mean more than just his and his wife, Kellas, life. It could mean their childs as well. A child created from the sperm and ova he and his wife had given at a fertility clinic in the hopes of a child that Kella would carry. A child she would nurture within her body and one they would raise from first birth.

Yet, as he stared at the child Jorn held close, Barrett realized no love could be greater than the love he felt for this child, at this moment.

Damn, his hands were shaking, he realized as he reached out to brush her hair back from her face.

Blinking fiercely at the tears that would have fallen, his gaze moved to Jorns once again.

Kellas lass, Jorn whispered, his accent thicker now as death neared. Shes her wee miniature, Bar.

How do I hide her child? Desperation began to fill him. Fuck you, Bar. Dont you leave me to protect this child and Khileen alone. Dont you do this to me.

Jorns rakish smile tugged at his pale lips. I wish . . .

No, God, Jorn, dont you do this. How the fuck was he supposed to do what he had to do without Jorns help?

Stick closest to the truth, Jorn was wheezing now. Found her here. Contact Lyons in the US. Virginia. Meet. Show him the truth. Hell give you the care of her.

The other man struggled for breath as a trail of blood began to seep from his nostrils. Tell no one but Lyons.

Jorn suddenly gripped the sleeve of Barretts jacket. Swear it. Not even Kella can know. None but Lyons can know the truth.

None but Lyons, Barrett agreed, knowing it was a secret he would have to break. There were no secrets from Kella, from his heart. What he knew, his Kella always knew.

What Kella knows, shell tell my lovely Jess. Jess will tell her momma He began coughing, blood spraying from between his parted lips.

Ill hold the secret, Jorn. No one will threaten my child.

My Khi, Jorn wheezed again, his blue eyes desperate and filled with such aching sadness and fury that for a moment, Barrett was certain sheer will would hold his friend to earth.

Then his eyes closed.

I swear Khileen as well, Jorn. Ill protect her as I would protect my own. I swear it.

A tear slipped freehow could it not, now?this was his dearest friend, the brother hed never known until Jorn came into his life.

A peaceful expression filled Jorns face then. Aye then, I can go now, he whispered. I can go.

Jorn, please God, not yet

And just that quickly

Barrett clenched his teeth, baring them in a snarl of naked agony before quickly gathering his daughter to his chest and rising to his feet.