CARNAL INSTINCT

By

Michelle M Pillow

Dedication:

To Mandy Roth, my other writing half, the pain in my backside, the ... ouch! What’d I say, Mandy?

To Jaycee Clark, I’d like to take this opportunity to ask you a very important question. You know those cookies I got from you for Christmas? Got any more and can I get back on the ‘nice’ list for next year?

Chapter One

“Oh, like I care how much protein you consume in a day,” Fiona LaSalle mumbled, glancing up from her clipboard through the fencing that kept the lion on his side of the cage. What was she doing here? She didn’t belong in a job that required her to take care of animals. The only pet she’d ever had was a goldfish when she was five. The poor thing only lasted a week before she found it floating at the top of the fishbowl. It was only later that she learned goldfish don’t eat pancakes and powdered sugar.

Fiona sighed, unenthusiastically checking boxes on her sheet. The bright sun shone overhead, beating down on her until she could feel rivulets of sweat working their way down her spine. She’d give anything for a cooling breeze. The polyester uniform of the Jameson Wild Life Rescue and Preserve was chafing her delicate skin and the sunshine was really starting to take its toll on her creamy white complexion. So much so, she’d found freckles starting on the bridge of her nose that very morning. Fiona hated freckles, but they were the curse of the redhead and both she and her sister had it. Just like their mother, the two LaSalle sisters had dark auburn locks. Their green eyes were from their father.

A long cement clearing made up most of the lion’s den and it was populated with only two cats. Mia, the lioness, didn’t move. In fact, the female cat always ignored her. The virile male lion was a different story. Almost as if he could understand her, the lion lifted his head and made a grumbling sound. His bushy hairdo shifted as he kept his eerie yellow eyes on her. Fiona shivered. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he understood every word she said to him. Every time she came near his cage, he looked at her like that and every time she spoke, he looked at her--studying her so intensely she wondered if he was getting ready to pounce.

Making a few notations on the clipboard, she continued, “They need a ‘lazy’ check-box and a ‘smells funny’ one too. And no offense King, not that you would really care anyway, but you’ve got this so ugly you’re cute thing going on. I think it’s the hair. Care to tell me how the hell you get it to look that good?”

King lifted his head and shook it slightly, sending his bushy locks rippling. Fiona made a face at the lion. “Show off.”

The lion seemed to be smirking at her, its yellow eyes shining. Either that or he was still hungry.

“Great, the sun’s starting to get to me,” she mumbled, half heartedly looking over the den. The fact she thought a lion could smirk was not a good sign. Seeing King still eyeing her like she was the next piece of meat on the menu, she grumbled, “I know how you get your hair so shiny. It’s from basking in the sun all day licking your balls. Guess I’ll just have to stick with deep conditioning, won’t I?”

Well, she thought, shrugging. It isn’t like he’s going to tell anyone I’m being mean to him and it’s not like the preserve has security cameras installed. No one will see me teasing the lion.

Not that it mattered about the cameras, even she wouldn’t strike an animal. Verbally goading an obnoxious one was an entirely different story. Besides, King started it--always growling and acting weird whenever she did her rounds.

Okay, she wasn’t being completely fair. Her bad mood had nothing to do with the lion staring at her, or the fact that she was wearing polyester, or the fact that she had to work out in the sun. She was mad at herself. However, since berating herself on a daily basis for being a trusting fool had gotten old, she’d taken to venting toward the lion. The way she looked at it, it was good therapy. She got the aggravation out by grumbling at him and no one got hurt by her comments. Besides, there was just something in the way he looked at her, all cocky and knowing.

Fiona took a deep breath. Life really was depressing. Her ex, James, had cleaned her out--bank accounts, trust fund, jewels, cash, furniture, even some of her clothes. What did the man need with her high school prom dress? She didn’t even really like the awful pink thing.

He’d even thrown her vibrator in the trash! What kind of man got rid of a woman’s vibrator when he was dumping her? Hell, when he was robbing her blind? His lazy ass had spent three months on her couch whining about backaches and all the time he was scheming to take her to the cleaners.

“I’m such a fool,” Fiona whispered. She knew she was in a funk, but she couldn’t help it. Life really sucked right now. She’d had to go crawling back to her father for help after James left. As if the ‘I told you so’ wasn’t bad enough, she had to get a jobof his choosing before he’d even think about helping her get out of the credit card debt James had run up under her name. Apparently, her ex had applied for every card that came in the mail without telling her. “I am such a fucking idiot.”

Feeling feisty and definitely needing to vent today after receiving another bill for nearly six thousand dollars at twenty seven percent interest, Fiona looked at the lion and added, “You’re as bad as my ex-boyfriend, you know it? He also had a thing for laying around and pretending to be the boss. From what I remember being said about male lions in elementary school, you’re the laziest of the cat breeds.” She dropped her voice into a condescending tone as if she were talking to a child. “Aren’t you? Yes, you are. You’re a lazy little bastard, aren’t you? Just like James always bitching about how his back hurt. Oh, oh, poor me, my back hurts.”

The lion lowered his head and snorted. He didn’t look too amused. Fiona chuckled at him, unable to stay mad. She was taking her bad mood out on a cat, but she couldn’t help it. Whatever she said to King wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

“Ah, I’m sorry, boy,” she mumbled, eyeing the lion. The creature tilted his head and slowly stood. He took a step forward and she lightened her tone. It was the first time he’d ever approached her. “That’s not fair to you, is it? I didn’t mean it, honest. You are so much better than James. Snakes are better than he is. Horse dung is better than he is. And you’re much prettier. You really will have to tell me how you get your hair so silky. I’d make a fortune selling whatever it is to women. Maybe then I’ll get out of debt.”

When she said ‘prettier’ the lion snarled as if offended by the girly word, but continued to make his way forward. Fiona clutched the clipboard to her chest and kneeled down to his eye level.

“All I wanted was to be appreciated, you know? And James really seemed to do that.” Fiona shook her head, thinking more about the past than looking at the wild beast coming toward her. “He said he believed in me. No one had ever said that to me before but my mother. I just thought if I gave him time and believed in him that he would change, you know, get better.” She snorted. “Stupid, huh?”

It had been two months since he left and even some time before that since they’d had sex. Only afterward, did her neighbor confess to the cops that he’d been fucking her as well--apparently with no back problems holding him back. By that point, Fiona could believe just about anything. James was definitely not the man she thought he was. Or maybe he just wasn’t the man she’d hoped he was.

“I’m tired of being alone. My problem is that I give people the benefit of the doubt--trusting them blindly first only to get hurt in the end.” She continued, looking deep into the creature’s yellow eyes. They were so calm, almost understanding as they looked at her. She felt herself melt a little. “You know what I think my deal is? I need to get laid. I need to go out tonight after work and screw the first man I come across.”

The lion stiffened at her words and she giggled.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you, King?” she asked, grinning. “Man, it’s been so long and I hate to admit it, but that’s one of the things I actually miss about being in a relationship. James was far from being a saint, but he was definitely good in bed. You know what I mean?” The lion growled low in the back of his throat. She took the sound as an answer and continued. “The sex was great, not phenomenal, but really good. It was the only time he didn’t seem to be complaining about his back and his fake illness did give me the advantage of always being on top.”

All of a sudden, the lion roared viciously. The sound sent chills of dread down her spine, startling her. There was something in the beast’s eyes. He was angry. No, not just angry. He was outraged, pissed to the point that he wanted blood. Lunging at her, the lion crashed into the cage. Fiona screamed as the chain link swayed under his great weight. The clipboard dropped from her hands as she struggled to get to her feet. The lion continued to attack the fencing as if he wanted desperately to get at her. She screamed again, loud and long as she ran from the lion’s den as fast as her feet would carry her.

* * * *

Fiona looked at the floor in shame before staring desperately at Dr. Eve Matthews from the woman’s office door. “I’m really sorry, Dr. Matthews. I didn’t mean to scare the kids by running and screaming through the preserve. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Eve was the veterinarian who ran the preserve with her Russian-born husband, Viktor. They were newly married and in the process of building their dream home on the preserve. Viktor was dark and mysterious and so tragically cute. He was also very much in love with his wife.

The doctor was moving her stuff into her new office--a room cluttered with piles of books and stacks of boxes. It was part of the newer complexes just built by the preserve’s new owner, Finn O’Conner. Finn was a friend of her father and it was because of that relationship that she was even considered for this job. Her father wanted her to learn the value of manual labor--or so he said. Fiona knew he just wanted to punish her for striking out on her own against his wishes.

“But please take a moment to listen to my side, doc. I’m telling you, there’s something wrong with King. I go by to do my checks every day and every day he watches me with those ... those intense eyes of his and then today he actually charged the fence. I think he wanted to kill me. I saw death in his eyes. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s gotten loose. We should send out a search party for him. There are kids still on the grounds.” Fiona took a deep breath, well aware that she sounded like a madwoman. She couldn’t help it. Picturing the look on the lion’s face gave her chills.

“Actually, the kids have all been taken home. They were too shaken by your performance to stay and finish the tour.” Eve took a deep breath. “And I’ve sent Fletcher out to check on King. He assures me the lion is in his cage, sleeping peacefully.”

“Dr. Matthews, please, if you had security cameras installed, you’d know that I--”

“I have no doubt the lion got a little....” Eve paused as if struggling for the right word. “Ah, rowdy, but I can assure you he wasn’t trying to kill you. I’ve had King here for five years. Trust me when I say I know him well. His diet’s been changed and he’s probably just temperamental because of it. I’m sure that’s what you’ve been noticing.”

“I want to change assignments again, please.”

Eve studied her, her gaze calm.

“Please, Dr. Matthews, I know I’ve asked for several changes in assignment, but I swear this time it’s....” Fiona paused. Eve quirked a brow. “Please. King’s got it out for me. I know it. And didn’t you say you didn’t want to stress the animals out? If he doesn’t like me, doesn’t that count as me stressing him out by going by there?”

“Fiona,” Eve said, taking another long, deep breath. It was clear the woman was put off by her, but Fiona couldn’t help that. They were just different people with very different personalities. This place was Eve’s life. To Fiona it was just a job she was forced to endure until her father picked a new one with which to torture her. “You know, working with animals isn’t for everyone. There’s nothing wrong with that. Now, when I hired you, you said that you didn’t scare easily and that you were up to the challenges we face here every day. I gave you a chance, but--”

“No, please,” Fiona interjected. She knew what was coming. Eve had the ‘I’m so sorry, but I have to fire you’ look on her face. Unfortunately, Fiona couldn’t blame the woman. “I need this job, Dr. Matthews. I can’t lose it. If I lose another job my father will disown me. I’m not complaining. I promise I’m not.” She took another deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I just want to put in for a transfer to a different section of the preserve. But only if one happens to come up.”

“Everyone helps everyone here,” Eve said. “You go where you’re needed. Now, I already excused you from dealing with tour groups--”

“They asked too many questions I couldn’t answer,” Fiona interrupted. “I thought it might look bad for the preserve.”

And I was tired of looking stupid--being shown up by second graders when it came to big cat knowledge.

“And I excused you from working in the lab,” Eve said.

“I already said I’m sorry for fainting. I had no idea there would be that much blood involved.”

“It was a surgery,” Eve said dryly.

“You know what? Can we just forget I was here? Please.” Fiona slowly backed out of the office. She cursed silently to herself, knowing she couldn’t lose another job--not after the strings her father had pulled to get it for her. Was it her fault she hadn’t found her calling yet? “I’ll stay where I’m needed and you won’t hear another peep out of me on the subject, okay? And I’ll never, ever, ever scream again in the preserve. Even if I’m being eaten alive by one of the tigers. Promise.”

Eve sighed and opened her mouth.

“I promise.” Fiona drew an X over her heart in the childhood gesture of really promising and said, “Cross my heart.”

“Fine,” Eve said, though she sounded reluctant. “One more chance. Just ... don’t get eaten, all right.”

Fiona nodded eagerly and hurried out of the office before the woman could change her mind. To herself, she mumbled, “Good going, Fiona. You being a fraidy-cat almost got you fired.”

* * * *

“Okay, Cade, what’s up?” Eve asked, looking in at the lion. Her husband Viktor was by her side, paying more attention to the way the setting sun reflected off her shoulder length blonde hair than what she was saying. Viktor was a cat shifter--half man, half black panther. Eve was his human turned immortal wife who ran the preserve. The woman had a kind heart and was loved by all the shifters and non-shifting big cats under her care.

Cade let his body begin to shift from lion form so he could stand before Eve and talk with his human voice. He liked spending his days lazing around in the sun at the preserve. Human life was much too complicated for his liking.

Besides, he thought, glancing back at the lioness with whom he shared the cage. Mia needs me. I can’t abandon her now.

Tan fur rippled into waist length blond hair, automatically blowing forward over his naked chest. Eve averted her eyes. He thought it funny, the way she got embarrassed by their nakedness. After centuries of changing form, all the cat shifters had gotten used to walking around naked. Besides, being half cat kept them trim and lean and most looked damned good in the buff. They had absolutely nothing to hide.

“Howdy, doc,” Cade drawled, grinning widely as he crossed over to her. He put his hands on his hips, standing proudly, his cock nestled between his thighs.

“Uh, Cade, do you mind, buddy?” Viktor asked, pointedly. “You’re embarrassing my wife.”

“Can’t help it,” Cade laughed. “She’s so cute when she’s red.”

“Cade, get dressed,” Eve said, her face turning a darker shade. “Or so help me I’ll shave you in cat form just to see if those pretty locks of yours fall off.”

Viktor looked down at Eve’s blushing face. The pheromones he was emitting were potent enough for the whole preserve to smell. His voice dipped and his voice became husky. “Yeah, she is cute, isn’t she?”

“Eh, come on,” Cade grumbled, waving his hand in the air in a feeble attempt to get rid of the pheromones. “Give us bachelors a break, would you?”

“One of the girls who works for us says that King’s been intimidating her,” Eve interrupted their teasing. Viktor chuckled lightly, but kept quiet. “Care to tell me why you’re harassing the help?”

“Oh, her.” Cade frowned and crossed over to the small cave. He was still angry when he thought about the woman telling him how she’d slept with another man. Pushing on a fabricated rock, he waited for a secret compartment to open. The preserve was closed and he felt like getting out of the cage. Taking the clothes he found inside the compartment, he pulled on a T-shirt. Tight blue jeans were soon to follow.

“Yeah, her,” Eve said, tapping her foot. “Care to explain?”

“I hope you fired her.” He shook his head. That woman was annoying as hell, putting him down one minute as if she actually knew him and then talking about fucking another guy the next. It didn’t help that just seeing her walk near his cage made his body tight with desire. Everything about her was a distraction. His cock twitched, wanting to rise to full length. He was glad he’d dressed, not wanting Viktor to mistake the reaction for Eve. Eve was beautiful, but she was also very much taken. Catshifters respected each other’s territory.

“Well, no, I didn’t,” Eve said. Cade wondered at the relief he felt at her statement. “I know Fiona is a handful, but Finn’s been insistent that we keep her on. He says it’s a matter of great importance and the truth is I have nowhere else to put her. I’ve tried everything. She can’t cook so the small café’s out, she’s useless in the lab and all the other cats aren’t as patient as I know you can be. I put her in this section because I thought you’d be nice to her.”

“Vik, tell your wife to turn off the flattery and batting eyelashes,” Cade said, even as he felt himself softening to Eve’s dilemma. She really was a good person and he hated to see her so upset--especially in her so recently delicate condition. “You should talk to Finn and tell him her attitude is all wrong for this place.”

“I will,” Eve promised, “just as soon as he gets back from Europe. So, can you do me a favor and put up with her until then? Please? For me, Cade?”

“Well…” He hesitated, his resolve crumbling. Damn, but he was weak when it came to his female friends. “Okay, I’ll stop harassing her.” He paused, giving a meaningful look down to her flat belly. “But only if you name the baby you’re carrying after me.”

Eve looked confused and Cade knew Viktor hadn’t told her yet. She turned to her husband in surprise. Viktor shot him a look of slight annoyance, but Cade didn’t care as he gave an insolent grin. With a light jump, he hopped over the tall fence with ease and strolled down the path. As he walked away, he heard Viktor say, “I was going to tell you, my love, but there wasn’t time. It just happened this morning.”

Best Intentions 2:

DANCE OF SOULS

By

Mandy M. Roth

Chapter One

Mason Blackwolf sat in the back booth of the bar he’d stopped at on his way home and watched the patrons closely. His ever vigilant eye had picked up on a number of oddities in the bar. Nothing that would send him running but enough that Mason knew to be on his guard. He sat there, peeling the label off his beer, wadding the moistened paper into tiny balls and depositing them into the ashtray. He took another swig of the dark amber substance, savoring its rich brew but wishing it was stronger than it was.

Why his best friend, Brayen, and his grandfather, Running Elk, had sent him on a wild goose chase was a mystery to him. They had to have known that the rogue werewolf pack in Virginia had been captured and brought to justice. Everyone else seemed to know. They’d come just shy of laughing in Mason’s face when he arrived. Why the hell did they still send him? Sure, a vacation was nice but even he had to admit that he missed being home.

He hated to fly and had opted to drive instead. If the gods had intended him to fly, they’d have made him a werebird of some sort, not a werewolf. With a ridiculous amount of miles under his belt, Mason was ready to climb in his own bed and not look back. Unfortunately, he had a distance to travel before that could happen. The need to stretch his legs and relax had been great. The pull to this particular place had been all consuming--bordering on obsessive. He’d given into it and stopped. Now, he just had to figure out why.

Mason looked around, doing his best to put his finger on the problem. The smell of whiskey filled the air, coating it like a thin blanket of gasoline, no doubt as ignitable as the tempers of the occupants.

Nothing in the bar seemed out of the ordinary. It was the same run of the mill, clean place with a gritty clientele he was used to. Though, his normal hang-out didn’t have humans roaming about it. This one did. That didn’t surprise him. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the places Mason went when he wasn’t home had them in it.

A row of pool tables flanked one side of the bar while a long bar ran the length of the other side. Tables filled the area in between and in his darkened back corner, sat several booths. The place wasn’t bad. It wasn’t extraordinary either. Mason couldn’t understand why he’d had the urge to stop here.

“Come on, baby. Give daddy some of that sweet ass,” a drunk called out from a table full of men.

Mason watched the brunette waitress who had caught his eye earlier as she did her best to ignore the heckling that had been going on since he’d first arrived. The bartender seemed to be leery about the group of men that had pushed several tables together and were taking up a large portion of the center of the bar. If he had any clue what the hell the guys truly were, he’d have kicked their asses out long ago.

With a rifle loaded with silver bullets in his hands no less.

The music, pumping out of a jukebox up near the stage, varied from country to classic rock. It served to drown out some of the ruckus. Unfortunately, not enough to give Mason the peace he so desperately sought. Was it too much to ask for a break? Apparently so.

“Jeanie, you okay?” the bartender asked as he served an older man at the bar a beer.

Of course she’s not all right. The woman is being harassed by shifters, jackass!

The woman nodded as she went to collect dirty glasses and empty bottles from the table full of rowdy men. “I’m fine.”

“Yes, you certainly are fine,” a man with short, sandy brown hair said as he reached out and grabbed her ass. “Mmm, come on, sugar.”

She pushed away from him and scurried towards the bar. Mason groaned as he set his beer down. As much as he wanted to enjoy his time off, he wasn’t about to let a woman be manhandled by a group of drunken assholes. Shifters or not. The fact they were supernaturals only meant he could fight them head on and not have to hold as much back.

It’d be a real shame to kill one of these assholes. He snorted. A real shame.

The bartender put his palms down on the bar top and glared at the group of men. It was clear to see the man would attempt to protect his waitress; he was just playing it smart--avoiding a conflict if at all possible. It’s what Mason had been trying to do but suspected his attempts were in vain. He smiled.

Oh, well, kicking the shit out of someone will help me sleep better.

The door to the bar opened and Mason’s heart stopped for a fraction of a second as his gaze ran over the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. The woman had to be at least five-eight and at six foot two he liked to avoid having to bend nonstop to kiss them if at all possible. She’d work just fine.

The low-rise, boot-cut jeans she had on caught his attention immediately. Her toned abdomen showed, revealing a silver bellybutton ring. It was perfect. She was perfect. Gathering her up in his arms and spending the remainder of the night and most of the next day fucking her senseless chased his homesick blues away, replacing them with a rather optimistic outlook.

Long, shiny blonde hair stopped just before the small of her back. It was hair that a man would pay money just to be allowed the opportunity to run his fingers through and see it fanned out on the bed while sliding in and out of her. The very thought made Mason’s dick hard.

She smiled, making her classically beautiful face even more appealing. Her high cheekbones, narrow, slightly upturned nose and full rose-colored lips made his body throb with need. As his cock began to dig painfully into his black jeans, he instantly regretted not shacking up with the last hottie he’d crossed paths with. She’d been easy on the eyes and more than willing to have some fun but he felt compelled to get on the road and head home. That wasn’t something he normally passed on.

The bizarre urge to get on the road and head home had stayed with him and gotten stronger and stronger until he’d neared here. He’d given in to the compulsion to pull off, find a bite to eat and grab a beer. Somehow, he’d ended up here. It wasn’t as though the bar was close to the highway. No. Mason had driven a good distance off course before stopping. It wasn’t like he even had a choice. Something here had called to him. If he was right, it was the blonde.

“Hot damn,” the man at the table full of assholes said. “Take a look at the legs on that one. The rack isn’t bad either. How you doin’, sugar?”

Instantly, Mason found himself fighting the beast within, doing his best to keep the wolf caged. The urge to kill every one of the men for daring to look in the woman’s direction was so strong it shocked him. He clenched his fist, digging tiny crescent-shaped wounds into the palm of his hand and not caring in the least.

Jeanie went to the blonde quickly and Mason made sure he utilized every ounce of his supernatural gifts. First up, his ultrasensitive hearing. “Chan, you’re here! Ohmygod, I can’t believe it. When did you get in? Hey, I thought you weren’t coming until ten.”

The blonde smiled and his stomach did a flip-flop. If her flashing her pearly whites had that effect on him, he was screwed. Hopefully, in the literal sense if he played his cards right.

The blonde winked at her friend. “Hon, it’s eleven now. Don’t worry. I thought I’d head down and see if you needed a lift home or a little help?”

Her voice was every bit as smooth and sexy as she was. The need to hear her whispering sweet nothings in his ear while he fucked her left Mason fighting the urge to run to her and toss her over his shoulder. Fucking her was definitely something he would be doing before he left for home.

“Chandra Holbeck, are you telling me that you actually drove here for once?” Jeanie asked, sounding shocked.

Chandra. Chan. Mason let the name roll around in his head, taking more pleasure from it than he should.

Fuck, even her name makes me horny.

She laughed. He cupped his erection, praying for relief. When she spoke, she offered no such thing. “Uhh, please, Jeanie. You know me better than that. I didn’t drive. I walked. It’s gorgeous out. I can’t get enough of the fresh mountain air.”

Mason wanted to jump up and shout at her for being stupid enough to walk around at night, alone with shifters frequenting the area--drunk ones at that. Somehow, he managed to hold back. It wasn’t easy. Maybe the beast within him wanted to be fucking her tonight as bad as the man so it didn’t want to risk the opportunity by opening his mouth and inserting his foot.

Oh, we are so getting a piece of that tonight, my friend.

The woman slipped the jean jacket she had on off, leaving her in a tiny red fitted tee shirt. The cream-colored swells of her breasts showed due to the deep V-cut of it. Never before had Mason wanted to cover a sexy woman’s body but now he did. Wrapping her in a blanket and taking her home to peel back the layers and unwrap the prize inside in privacy was all he wanted to do. None of these men deserved to look upon her. She was special.

Special? What the hell am I thinking? She’s just another piece of ass.

Even as the words entered his mind, Mason knew they were a lie. She was more than just a piece of ass--way more and that scared him. Thankfully, the very idea of having his dick sinking into her lush body more than turned him on. It managed to set him on the verge of a full-shift and with his position as alpha male and right hand to Brayen, the guardian of the wolves, that was something that didn’t happen to him. He was stronger than that. Or so he’d thought. The blonde before him challenged that at an alarming rate.

Chandra glanced around the room, seeming to soak it all in with a childlike wonderment that made Mason smile. “Man, I missed this place. It’s packed.” Her brow creased. “Bertin, where’s Diane?”

The bartender shifted awkwardly. “She never showed up for work and I haven’t been able to get her by phone,” Bertin said, sounding anything but pleased. “It’s good to have you home, Chan. The place wasn’t the same without you.”

Something passed over Chandra’s face. She walked quickly to the bartender, slid her arm around his waist and sent spikes of jealousy ramming through Mason’s body. “If you’re worried about Diane, which I can tell you are, go look for her. I’ll take care of things here while you’re gone. And it’s good to see you too, Bertin.”

He wouldn’t dare leave two women alone to run this bar with those assholes here.

Bertin nodded. “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can. You sure you’ll be okay?”

What? Mason had to fight not to fall out of the booth from sheer shock. There was no way in hell any man in his right mind would leave two women with the likes of the characters in the bar. The man was clearly insane.

Chandra did a rather long, sensual blink that had Mason’s entire body reacting to it as if it were hard-core porn. If she could do that to him with no more than a look, imagine what she could do with a touch. The very idea left his cock throbbing.

“Go on, we’ll be fine. I promise,” she said softly.

Bertin smiled and Mason considered ripping his head off and pinning it to a dartboard. He’s noticed several of them on the wall nearest the pool tables on his way in. They’d work nicely.

“Thanks, Chan. Keep an eye on the big group. They’re a bit rambunctious tonight. Jeanie is nervous dealing with them and I think they know it.”

A bit rambunctious? They’re psychotic.

Chandra nodded and patted Bertin’s shoulder as she walked behind the bar to pick up where he’d left off. Bertin hesitated just a moment before turning and glancing directly at Mason. Their gazes locked. The slight nod the bartender gave him had Mason wondering what the hell was going on. Had the man sensed that Mason wasn’t human? Did he know Mason could and would protect the women at all costs? How could that be? Mason wasn’t even positive about what was going on--why the need to protect the blonde especially was so great. How the hell could some stranger hold the key?

All he knew for sure was if one of those assholes so much as sneezed in the blonde’s direction, it would be the last thing he ever did. Mason raked his gaze over them, coming close to daring them to try something. He felt like fucking the blonde until one of them passed out. Considering his legendary stamina, Mason had little fear he’d be the first one to fall asleep.

“Jeanie, how about something a little more upbeat? I really don’t want to hear some guy sing about losing his wife, job, dog and pickup truck tonight. It’s depressing,” Chandra said, as she leaned forward and put her hand over the older man’s at the bar. “Hey, Grandpa. How are you doing tonight? You’re not getting yourself into any trouble, are you? I’ve been worried sick that you’d go causing an uproar while I was gone.”

Grandpa?

Jeanie headed towards the jukebox quickly and selected a new sequence of songs. The first one that came on was about a young girl having issues fighting the moonlight. Mason couldn’t help but smile. Being a werewolf left him having roughly the same problem, though he’d never once thought to write a song about it.

“Yeah, Grandpa,” the man who had been hassling Jeanie mocked as he lifted his beer in the air. “Have you been a good boy tonight?”

The old man glanced over his shoulder but said nothing to the group. He simply stared at them with a look that would have been intimidating if it wasn’t coming from a man who looked to be pushing ninety.

I’m not exactly a spring chicken. Thank the gods I don’t look my age.

“Damn, Fisk, that looked like a challenge to me,” a buzz-cut blond said. He sat next to the one called Fisk and grinned from ear to ear.

Mason could no longer hold back. He eased forward in his seat, ready and willing to kill something. If he was lucky it would be a table full of assholes. After he was done with them, he’d take Chandra, get a room, and spend the night fucking her brains out.

His brashness made him cringe. Someone, even thinking about her in terms like that, sickened him. You don’t make love to women, idiot. You fuck them. Get over the self-imposed guilt trip.

He locked gazes with the old man at the bar and an unseen force slammed into him. It stole his breath. Mason tried to stand, only to find himself pinned to his seat.

What the hell?

* * * *

Chandra glanced at her great-grandfather and shook her head. The man was mischief in the making. Regardless of what he was doing, he seemed to get himself and everyone around him in a jam at a moment’s notice. Normally, they were good-natured predicaments that left all included laughing with a string of stories to tell. This didn’t feel good-natured in the least. “Way to egg them on, Papa. You just want to watch me kick the crap out of them. You get some sort of sick joy out of me leveling big guys.”

Grandpa winked. She laughed. The man would never change. He’d never once backed down from a fight and never would. It was part of who he was, his charm, and she loved him for him that.

“Is that true, old man?” a large man with short light brown hair said as he stood in the middle of the large group Bertin had warned her about. “Are you challenging me?”

“Whoohoo, Fisk, give ’em hell,” another man called out, his speech slightly slurred. “Be careful, he might have a cane.”

Laughter sounded from all directions.

Yeah, real funny.

Fisk glanced in Jeanie’s direction and a slow smile splayed over his face. Chandra wasn’t about to allow anything to happen to her friend. “Hey, Jeanie, we’re out of lemons. Could you run in the back and find some more? And whatever you do, don’t leave me in charge of slicing them again. I’ll take a finger off or something.”

Jeanie eyed the table full of men cautiously as she headed towards the back. “Call me if you need anything, Chan.”

It was so very like Jeanie to think she could help. In truth, she’d only be in the way.

Chandra wrinkled her nose. “Take your time. I’ll be fine. I could run the place with my eyes closed. It’s a side effect from having spent my life growing up here,” she said, winking at her grandfather. It was his bar.

The smile that moved over Jeanie’s face was priceless. “Yeah, you may have grown up here but you’ve seen other places, Chan. You’ve gone away. I’ve never been off this mountain and probably never will.”

It broke Chandra’s heart to hear her best friend speaking the truth. At the rate she was going, Jeanie never would see anywhere else. It was safer for an unmated female werepanther to stay close to her family and protectors.

“Jeanie, I only left to study, nothing earth shattering.”

“Did you meet new people? Do new things? See beautiful places?” Jeanie asked, as a faraway look came over her face.

Nodding, Chandra put her hand out to her friend. “Remember the dance I taught you when I got back?”

“The one that some Indian Shaman taught you?”

Chandra sighed. “Native American, but yeah, that one. You learned it right away. I bet you can still do it. I haven’t done it since the last time I was home and showed it to you.”

Jeanie beamed and Chandra knew her friend had practiced it daily. She’d heard the rhythmic sound that seemed to accompany it as she’d walked past her friend’s house many times. Plus, Wesley had told her about it each time they spoke. He was good about keeping her up-to-date on her friends.

As Jeanie took her hand, Chandra smiled and winked at her grandfather. He winked back and the music changed suddenly. It was laced in chants, drums and some sort of a wind instrument she couldn’t place. “Would you look at that? The darn thing must have known we wanted to dance.”

Jeanie’s eyes lit and she twisted a bit, never catching on that Grandpa had used his magik to make the music change to a song that didn’t even exist in the jukebox. “Do you think it really works? Do you think it will bring your,” she glanced around the bar nervously, “one true love to you? Your mate?”

It was hard for Chandra to not be envious of Jeanie in that area. Jeanie had a mate out there somewhere. A man who would love only her. In theory, so did Chandra but it wasn’t very likely she’d ever find him. No. Mr. Wonderful wasn’t beating down her door. “Yes, it’ll work for you.”

“I’ve been doing it for months and he hasn’t shown up yet, hon. And why did you leave out it working for you, too?” Jeanie pressed her lips together. “Hmm?”

“Because,” Chandra said, beginning to move her feet to the steps the Shaman had taught her. “Well, you know why. I’m not like you, Jeanie. I don’t think I’m like anyone.” She began to sway her hips just enough to look provocative. Jeanie laughed. Chandra shrugged. “Hey, I know it doesn’t belong there but it feels like it should. Doesn’t it?”

Grandpa laughed. “What else does it feel as though you should be doing right now, Chan?”

“Honestly?”

He nodded and she didn’t hold back. She knew she didn’t have to. “It feels like I should be doing this outside under the light of the full moon, around a fire with sleeping bags laid out.”

“Why do you need sleeping bags?” Jeanie asked, dancing along with her.

Chandra laughed. “On the off chance Mr. Right would show it would be nice not to have to lie in the dirt.”

Jeanie giggled and then stared at Grandpa. “She is so much like you, Gildas, that at times it scares me.”

“Thank you. She is more like me than even she wishes to acknowledge.” Grandpa focused on her with a twinkle in his eye. He was up to something. That much was clear. That was his look of mischief. “Does it feel like you should be doing anything else, Chan?”

Chandra glanced towards the back corner of the bar and began to move her hips even more. Her breath caught as her inner thighs tightened. Suddenly, the air around her felt sexually charged and it wasn’t her power that was causing it. It was someone else’s. Someone in the back of the bar. The urge to seek out the owner of the power was great.

Fisk picked then to interrupt. “Hey, Pops, I asked you a question. Are you challenging me?”

Jeanie stilled and cast Chandra a wary look. Not wanting her friend exposed to any more violence than she’d already been, Chandra motioned for her to head to the back. “How about those lemons?”

Nodding, Jeanie ran off, knowing that she’d only be underfoot if something big went down. It took years for Chandra to get her friend to understand it was better to be out of the way than hurt while trying to help. Still, Jeanie often tried to voice her need to lend a hand.

Movement from the table full of men caught her attention. Taking a deep, calming breath, Chandra hoped that it wouldn’t come to what she knew it would--someone dying. She moved out from behind the bar and headed straight for the table full of rowdy men. “Anyone need a refill?”

The one called Fisk narrowed his blue eyes on her, making her stomach twist and her blood run cold. “Oh, sugar, I want to fill something all right.” He licked his lips. “She’s tall, blonde and staring at me from hazel eyes, wanting me to fill her so full of my cum she can’t walk straight.”

Chandra bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, but was that a yes on a beer or a no?”

“Where did your friend go?” Fisk asked, glancing towards the back room.

Far away from you.

“Beer? Yes? No? Going once, going twice...?” She didn’t give in to him, in hopes he’d lose interest and just go before Bertin got back or any more men she knew showed up. It would be a blood bath. One she didn’t want to see happen.

Fisk snickered. “You’re scared. I can smell it.”

She shrugged. “I’m a little concerned. I’ll admit it.”

The men all got equally smarmy smiles on their faces as they stared up at her like she was a piece of meat. If she wasn’t careful, that was exactly what she’d end up being. She knew exactly what these men were--not human. Neither was she. Fisk tipped his head and eyed her up. “Are you scared of me?”

Grandpa laughed and Chandra cringed. The man caused her more grief at times but she loved him dearly and knew that he always had an ulterior motive that was for the best. At the moment, it was a bit hard to understand why he would provoke these men but she trusted him.

“What’s so funny, old man?”

“Nothing,” Chandra said quickly, doing her best to head things off but wanting desperately to smash the man’s face for talking to her grandfather that way. “Yes, I’m afraid of you. Happy?”

Now, shut up and leave.

“Chan, do not lie to the boy. Tell him the truth that you are afraid for him--for them all.”

Great, Grandpa, why don’t you go ahead and throw the first punch? Save time, get right to the fight.

Grandpa chuckled. “If one more comment is made that is not acceptable in regards to a woman, I will, young one. I will. And if you are thinking of batting your eyelashes and calling me Papa to get me to stop, it will work but it will not work on the one who watches now. His need to see you safe will outweigh his better judgment. Trust me when I say you do not want him revealed to the others, Chandra.”

Whatever her grandfather was trying to tell her, it was big and she knew better than to not trust him. His insight was unrivaled. Any suggestions?

He chuckled again. “Yes. I believe they have no respect for women and should. Perhaps it is time they learned a valuable life lesson.”

That’s what she was afraid he’d say. She thrust her thoughts out at her grandfather. And the other, the one who is watching me? What should I do about him?

“I will see to it he is kept in line. Though, you will have to be the one to calm him down when all is said and done.”

I knew you’d say that, too.

“Because you know me well.”

The men at the table exchanged confused looks. “The old man is talking to himself. Put the old bastard out his misery, Fisk. He’s insane.”

Fisk raked his cold gaze over her. “First, I’m gonna teach the blonde a lesson and then I’ll teach the old man one. Women shouldn’t walk around looking that good unless they want to be fucked.”

Chandra felt her grandfather’s power move past her fast, heading towards the back corner of the bar. She tried to follow it with her gaze, to see who this mysterious man watching her was but Fisk picked that moment to appear in front of her. Her slight distraction had cost her valuable time and she’d completely missed his approach.

He took a deep breath and laughed. “Ahh, nothing smells better than a scared human. Unless she’s soaked with my cum that is.”

“Chan,” her grandfather warned. “Handle him or I will.”

“Papa.” She batted her eyes.

Grandpa sighed, never one who was able to resist her when she pulled out the use of the word papa. “Fine. Handle him or I will set the other free. He wished greatly to use a man’s head for dart practice only a moment ago. I do think that would be a sight to see.”

Chandra glanced at her grandfather. “Huh?”

He winked.

Oh, he’s up to something all right.

Knowing that he was dangerously close to stepping in and that the pard, or rather, rest of the group of cat shifters, would sense if he did, Chandra nodded. “I’ve got it, Grandpa. Keep the other back.”

The men all laughed. “Sounds like she’s not scared of you at all, Fisk. You gonna let a chick get away with that attitude?”

Reaching out, Fisk stroked her cheek. His hand smelled of blood and it sickened her. As he began to run his finger down her neck, Chandra took a step back, turned and put some distance between her and him. “What have you done? You smell like blood. Who did you hurt?”

“Aren’t you a fast human?” Fisk smiled, flashing a set of very inhuman teeth. She gasped, not expecting him to slip into a partial shift as soon as he did. He laughed, letting his teeth return to normal. “Aww, who is afraid of the big bad wolf?”

Chandra continued to back up, wanting to draw Fisk away from the safety of his friends. It would make it so much easier if she didn’t have to worry about them attacking instantly, too. She was good but even she had her limits. They didn’t know that though and she planned on keeping it that way.

“That’s it, run. It only makes me want to pin you under me and fuck you even more.”

Backing up, Chandra bumped into a table. Getting stuck in one place wasn’t high on her list either. Fisk reached for her and she twisted to the side, only to find him snatching her around the waist. He lifted her off her feet and licked her ear.

“Looks like your hero isn’t willing to risk it,” Fisk said, pressing his mouth to her.

“My hero?”

I have a hero? News to me.

Fisk seized hold of the back of her hair and held it firm, directing her attention forward. “Yeah, the big tough lookin’ human sitting there glaring at me like he wants to slit my throat but not moving a muscle to help you.”

Chandra knew instantly it was the mysterious man her grandfather had been talking about. When her gaze flickered over him her breath hitched. His olive complexion, dark brown eyes, thick black lashes and head of chin-length, almost-black hair demanded her attention. Looking away wasn’t an option but staring could cost him his life. Still, she found herself letting her gaze trace the hard lines of his face. It would have been too square if it wasn’t for his pronounced chin with the slightest of dimples on it.

The all black ensemble he wore, consisting of a snug fitting short-sleeved shirt, jeans and boots screamed badass. The fiery look in his eyes made her hike that assumption up to deadly instantly. There had to be a reason her grandfather was holding him in place, blocking his ability to help. Grandpa had also gone as far as to warn her she wouldn’t want the mysterious man revealed to the others. It was clear to see he was straining, fighting her grandfather’s hold and that meant he was strong. Stronger than a human for sure.

“Is that your boyfriend, sugar?” Fisk laughed. “How about we have a little fun with him, see how much pain he can take and then make him watch as we do the same to you?”

The mysterious man’s muscles all bulged, showing off the fact he was solid, steely perfection. As hard as Chandra tried to fight her body’s natural response to him, she couldn’t. Her inner thighs moistened as her nipples hardened. The very thought of him wrapping those large arms around her made her pussy quiver in delight.

Fisk took a deep breath. “The idea of me being in you is making you hot, bitch. Will killing your little boyfriend make you even wetter?” He pulled harder on her hair. “Thuc, come handle the bitch’s boyfriend.”

Chandra’s natural instincts kicked in, waking her from her odd fascination with the man in the corner. “No.”

“Excuse me?” Fisk asked, sounding floored she would dare to challenge him.

“I said, no. You and your friends will not lay a hand on him.” She took a deep breath, preparing herself to do what needed to be done. “Leave now or I can’t help you when they come and trust me, buster, they will come.”

He laughed hysterically. “We aren’t scared of a bunch of humans. Damnit, Thuc, I told you to get your sorry ass over here and handle this punk who keeps glaring at me.”

Chandra called upon her gifts, letting them run over her, igniting the skills she carried deep within but rarely used to defend others. No, that was generally left up to Wesley and the rest of the men of the pard. She glanced down at the mysterious man before her and could almost feel the rage radiating off him. She winked and he jolted, looking as though she’d struck him upside the head. Some of the rage eased from his eyes and Chandra realized that she’d taken him by surprise. He didn’t seem like a man to be caught off guard.

“Tell me, bitch, is he your boyfriend? Is he the man you run home to, spread your legs and beg for more?” Fisk asked.

She’d completely forgotten he had hold of her and that shocked her. Gathering her wits about her, Chandra accidentally let power out. It went straight for the man her grandfather was pinning to his seat. It eased over him and she could sense his shock. So far, she’d managed to surprise him at least twice in one night. Somehow, she didn’t think that was the norm.

“If I’m lucky enough, he will be the man I wrap my legs around tonight.” It came out before she could stop it. She wasn’t sure who was more taken aback out of the three of them. From the look on the mysterious man’s face, she was going to have to go with him.

Fisk lifted her higher. “Oh, I’m going to love drilling into you while I make him watch. Though, how you could want a weakling like him when you’ve got me is fucked up. He’ll die a slow death just because he’s not man enough to warrant a fast one.”

Chandra merely tipped her head and kept her voice even, unimpressed by Fisk’s threats. “Walk away now or risk not leaving this mountain.”

“Bitch, you got a lot of spirit in you.”

“You have no idea how many spirits I have,” she said, feeling the rising of the spirits that came to her often. They sensed the disturbance and would no doubt come to guide her. “And, Fisk, they aren’t too happy about the situation.”

“They?”

She didn’t answer. Drawing her legs up to her chest, she changed her weight distribution, catching Fisk off guard. He dropped her and she fell to the ground.

Not wasting any time, Chandra kicked out hard, letting the sole of her boot come into contact with his groin. She rolled to her feet and stood in a fighting stance. Fisk clutched himself and growled at her. “You have no idea what you’re messing with, bitch.”

“A guy with his testicles receding would be my first guess but hey, I’ve been wrong before,” she said, sinking lower in her stance, ready and willing to incapacitate him if need be. Anything would be better than letting Ferran and his men get their hands on him. They’d kill him. She’d just leave him permanently maimed.

The hate in Fisk’s eyes told her he wasn’t about to give up but she had to offer him the out. “You need to leave peacefully now because I won’t hold back anymore.”

“Pfft, humans.” Fisk glanced back at his buddies and let out a choked laugh sound. “Come play with your food, boys. We might as well make her run from us. There’s nothing like a good chase.”

They tried to stand, each straining with the effort. “We’re stuck. Something’s holding us to our seat,” Thuc said, desperately trying to rise.

Fisk took another deep breath. “I smell magik.” He eyed Chandra up carefully. “Is it you? Are you hiding something from me? You’re not like us. What are you?”

“Leave now.” There was no way she was going into an in-depth discussion about who or what she was with Fisk. The moron wouldn’t grasp the concept anyways.

He snorted. “Or what, witch? You’ll hold my men in their seats while I have my way with you and then gut you in front of your little boyfriend?”

Chandra couldn’t help but laugh. “I dare you to find something little on him. I’m betting you can’t. Mmm, I hope he gives me the chance to play later. I’m sure I’ll be happy with all I discover.” She winked and then smiled wide.

“He’ll be dead,” Fisk said, glaring at her.

“No, he won’t.”

Fisk snorted. “What makes you so sure? You gonna use that magik you got holdin’ my men in place to protect him?”

“That’s not my magik, asshole,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If it was, you’d be dead already. I gave you your chance to leave. You didn’t take it.”

“Do you have any idea what we are?” Fisk asked, licking his lips slowly, baring his wolf teeth once more.

Chandra rolled her eyes. “Grandpa, this hardly seems fair. He’s all big and scary with huge teeth and I’m just me. I’m so envious. His muscles are bigger than mine, too. This just doesn’t seem right. How can I teach him to respect women like this?”

Grandpa let out a soft laugh and nodded his head. “I suppose you are right. I am sorry, Chan. I still view you as a little girl, not the woman you have become.”

Fisk looked confused, just the way she liked her opponent to be.

“I shall even the odds, Chan,” Grandpa said, lifting his magik enough to free three more men from the table Fisk had been at. They looked as confused as Fisk.

“Oh, come on. I can take them. Just let them all go.”

She sensed the mysterious man behind her straining even harder to be free. He probably thought she was crazy.

Fisk and his men laughed. “Sugar, consider yourself fucked.”

He lunged at her. This time Chandra didn’t hold back. She struck out hard, thrusting him backwards. Two of his friends charged at her. Dropping low, she waited until one dove at her before rising fast and driving her shoulder into his stomach. He flipped backwards with ease, gasping as he went. She couldn’t hide her smirk.

The other man swung out hard, narrowly missing her gut as she sidestepped and countered his strike, delivering a direct hit to his neck. The man dropped quickly and rolled away.

Fisk flipped in midair, landed on his feet and put his hands out to his sides. Long claws emerged from them as his eyes began to swirl with black. “Surprise, the big bad wolf is ready to have some fun.”

Fisk charged at her and she kicked out again, this time catching his chin. He slashed out at her. Chandra pulled her head back rapidly as his claws swept past her, so close she could feel the wind they generated. He tried it again and Chandra grabbed his wrist, twisted it hard taking him to his knees. She stomped on his other wrist, holding it to the floor as she snapped his arm with ease. He struggled for breath as she pressed his clawed hand to his throat and held tight.

“No, Fisk, you’re wrong. I’m not the one who is fucked here.” Chandra could almost feel his intentions. She laughed at the man’s stupidity. “Go ahead, do a complete shift and try to bite me. You should probably think about the fact I’m holding your hand and pressing on a point that will not allow you to retract those nasty lil’ things you tried to gut me with so you’ll be slitting your own throat if you do shift fully or move too much.”

It was easy to see the question in his eyes. He didn’t believe her. “Go ahead. Retract them if you think you can,” she said, daring him.

The hand that was still pinned beneath her boot returned to normal but the one she held to his throat didn’t. His eyes widened. “How? What are you? You’re not a shifter. What...?”

“I’m someone who offered you a chance to walk away, to save you and your friends’ lives but you didn’t take it.”

They never take it.

The other men moved towards her and she shook her head. “Unless you really want him dead and me pissed, I’d turn around and leave. I suggest you hurry before....”

The door to the bar opened and Chandra knew it was too late for the men. Ferran entered slowly, eyeing up the men at the large table before setting his sights on her. He shook his head. “Tsk, tsk, Chan, such a bad girl showing up in town, not coming to see me and then saving all the fun of killing werewolves for yourself. You know how much I love doing that. Every last one of them should be wiped off the face of the earth.”

He pressed his hands together and brought them to his lips. “Oh wait, knowing you, you’re trying to do what you can to keep the peace. That’s always what you try to do, right? Make us all just get along.”

She didn’t answer. There was no point. Ferran knew her well enough to know he was right. Chandra didn’t need to confirm that for him.

He arched a light brown brow and smiled at what he saw. The situation didn’t look good. “How’s that working out for you, darlin’?”

“He agreed to take his people and leave, Ferran. He swore to me he’d just go. No one needs to die tonight.”

Fisk started to say something and Chandra pressed his clawed hand to his throat more. He shut up.

Ferran shook his head slightly. His spiked light brown hair barely moved as he locked his blue eyes on her. “Now, Chan, you know I can’t let them go. You know how we feel about that type of filth around here.”

She swallowed hard. “Ferran, he swore to go and not return. No one has to die. No more blood needs to be shed. Enough people have died already. The cycle needs to be broken.”

“Chan, I do my best to keep my patience with you, to try to keep in mind you aren’t like us--that you don’t have an inborn need to kill and to protect but you wear my patience down. When I find you clearly in a position you were left to defend yourself, I have to wonder if your opinion even matters here.” He took a few steps in. “He had every intention of spreading his filthy seed, of creating more of them with our women, didn’t he?”

Chandra shook her head no but stayed silent.

“Jeanie!” Ferran called out.

Jeanie came rushing out from the back room and stalled when she saw what was going on. “Ferran?”

“Little sister, kindly tell me if these men were planning on doing something they shouldn’t. Something that involves taking privileges with you and with Chan.”

“I am not one of your women, Ferran,” Chandra said, giving him a hard look.

He narrowed his gaze. “Says you. One little bite and you will be. You’ll be claimed.”

“It doesn’t work like that for me, Ferran, and you know it.” In truth, it did if the person doing the biting was her true mate. Ferran was not. He didn’t seem to understand that though.

Shaking his head, Ferran laughed. “And what makes you so sure, Chandra? How do you know that when you’re accepting my seed and I sink my teeth into your tender skin, you won’t find yourself claimed?”

Standing tall, Chandra smiled. “I know because you will never sink anything into me again, Ferran.”

“Again,” he licked his lower lip, “don’t remind me I missed my chance, Chandra, or I might forget I’m a gentleman.”

“I’ll be sure to remember for the both of us.”

Ferran put his hand out towards Jeanie. “Answer me, little sister. Did these men want to take liberties with either of you?”

Chandra watched as Jeanie glanced towards her, obviously looking for an answer. Ferran stroked her cheek and smiled. “Don’t look to her for guidance, Jeanie. I’m asking you.” Ferran put his head against hers and huffed. “You don’t have to answer. I already know. I could smell their lust when I entered. Go finish what you were doing. I trust you were a good girl.”

“Stop talking to her like she’s a child, Ferran.” It sickened Chandra how Ferran treated Jeanie.

Ferran smiled. “In my eyes, she will always be a child. Now, you, Chan, you are altogether different. So much younger than me but it doesn’t bother me. Why is that? How can I feel for you when, according to you, you aren’t even one of our women?” He walked towards her and slowed when he neared her grandfather. Chandra stiffened, unsure what Ferran might try.

“Gildas, old friend, it’s good to see you out and enjoying yourself.” Ferran put his hand on her grandfather’s shoulder and Chandra held her breath. “Do you think that granddaughter of yours will ever stop her humanitarian efforts or is she a lost cause?”

“Oh,” Grandpa said, not seeming the least bit concerned that a man who teetered on the edge of sanity had hold of him. “I think she’ll stop.”

Like hell I will.

Ferran patted her grandfather before walking towards her. He glanced at the jukebox and tipped his head. “Gildas, I find it odd that you’d have the red man’s music playing in your bar.”

“Red man?” Chandra asked, disgusted at Ferran’s derogatory term but not surprised by it in the least. “Even you can’t be that big of an ass. I could make kitty jokes to bring you down a notch or ten. You know what they say about throwing stones, Ferran.”

“What?” He grinned, no doubt fully aware of the fact he was pissing her off. “Do you have a stance on the red men, the Indians, as well? I don’t know why I’m surprised. You seem to have a stance on almost everything. It’s so very human of you, Chan. Your obsession with ancient religions, peace and harmony is sickening.”

“Then why hasn’t it managed to repulse you enough to leave?” she asked, knowing she was pushing her luck with him but not caring. Someone had to stand up to the man while Wesley, her brother, was away.

Ferran put his hand out and motioned around at nothing in particular. “Because, I’m next in line to rule the pard, Chandra. Why would I give that up?”

“Do you really believe what you’re saying? Do you really think you’ll lead anything?”

“Yes, Chan, I do and so should you.” He took another step towards her. “I can’t promise to go easy on you when I do take over. I think you have quite a few things to learn. First and foremost, you need to learn to respect me.”

“Respect is earned,” she bit out. Holding her tongue wasn’t an option at this point. “Do something that shows me you’re more than you’ve let on so far and I might start, but until then, you will not gain respect. You rule through fear. That’s not the making of a great man, Ferran. It’s the start of their downfall.”

Clapping, he tipped his head to her. “Ever the one to speak your mind in the most poetic of ways. I adore that about you, to a point.”

“You weren’t always this way. I can remember a time that you didn’t hate like you do now.” Glancing at the floor, Chandra sighed. “I can remember a time when you had more than my respect, Ferran. You had my love. What happened to you?”

“Well, finding one’s parents, friends and neighbors slaughtered at the hand of werewolves tends to harden a heart, Chandra. And finding one’s soon-to-be wife beaten, full of claw marks and on the verge of dying doesn’t ever help. Having her wake with no hate for the species responsible, still every bit as concerned about peace as before it happened kills all rational thought.” He gave her a knowing look that left emotions she didn’t want to have flooding her. “Did you also try to reason with your attackers that night, Chan? Before the wolf-pieces-of-shit ripped you from our bed, did you try negotiating? Or did you go willingly?”

Chandra stiffened, careful to keep her hold on Fisk’s hand. Her voice shook as she spoke, “I-I tried to stop them, Ferran. You, of all people, know I did.”

“They didn’t care about reasoning out our differences, Chandra. They didn’t care that they slaughtered innocent women and children--that they attacked a guardian. That’s what you are, isn’t it? It’s what you spent so many years hiding from me and it’s why you left to ‘study’ isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer. What was the point? He didn’t want the truth.

Ferran shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Chandra. You don’t have to confess your secrets out loud. I know enough to know that the wolves didn’t show you an ounce of mercy, did they?”

“No,” she said, not wanting to remember that day.

He nodded. “And they came in such numbers you and your gifts couldn’t hold them back. How is it you don’t fear a repeat of that happening? How can you want to do anything but kill every last werewolf you run across, Chan?”

“I was nineteen when they attacked, Ferran. I didn’t know what I do now. I didn’t fully understand things.”

“And disappearing in the middle of the night to travel the world helped you to better understand them, Chan?” he asked, his voice strained. It was obvious he still hurt from her leaving but she didn’t have a choice.

“The call came and I had to answer, Ferran. If Wesley summoned you and you didn’t answer there would be hell to pay. It was the same for me. They called and I had to go. I had to learn about who and what I am.” Licking her lower lip, Chandra focused on anything but the tears that wanted to come. “My time away helped me to see that the wolves aren’t all that way, Ferran. Just like every one of your kind aren’t ruthless killers hell-bent on wiping out an entire race of the gods’ creatures. They have bad apples, too. We all do.”

You’re one of them.

Fury showed on his face as he struck his chest. “They ripped you from our bed, Chan! They came in and plucked a sleeping young woman, someone who refused to kill an insect even, from her bed and they forced you to watch as they slaughtered others. As they tried to....” He stopped and swallowed hard.

Chandra bent her head down, not wanting to remember what Ferran was going to force her to think about. It was a nightmare that she’d not only lived but often had to relive during her sleeping hours. It haunted her still and would until she took her last breath. At the rate danger kept finding her that would be sooner rather than later.

“Look at me, Chandra. Tell me that they didn’t sense your power. You hadn’t learned to hide your magik yet and I wasn’t there to mask it from them. Tell me they didn’t try to.... Oh God, I can’t even say it.” Ferran struck his chest again, driving the message home.

The wolves had done horrible things to her. She already knew that. Having him tell everyone around them would accomplish nothing.

“They tortured you before they took you within inches of dying. Had Gildas not sensed your pain, felt his granddaughter’s life force being stripped from this earth, and alerted us to what was going on, you and everyone else would have died. Their intent was to wipe us out. To assure that our mates and future mates were destroyed. They got off to a fucking fine start, Chandra. How is my desire to see to it that we survive a bad thing?”

She tightened her grip on Fisk’s hand. “Because you kill indiscriminately. You don’t kill to protect yourself, Ferran. You kill for pleasure now.”

Staring down at Fisk, Ferran rubbed his stubble covered chin. “Let go of him.”

“He agreed to go in peace. Don’t shed any more blood, Ferran. Please.”

“Very well.” Ferran’s eyes flickered. A sign that his beast lurked just below the surface. “Let go of him.”

Chandra did so reluctantly. Fisk lashed out with his good hand and caught her upper arm, slicing it wide open. Pain radiated through her. She cried out and jerked back. Ferran swept a clawed hand out and left Fisk’s body falling one way and his head falling the other. Blood splattered up, hitting her in the face.

Turning quickly, Chandra covered her mouth as she fought not to be sick. The wound on her upper arm was deep and blood poured forth from it. She did her best to avoid looking at it or thinking about the body that lay in pieces behind her but it was next to impossible.

“Turn around and look at what your attempts at helping got you, Chan. Look at the thing you tried to protect. It tried, and would have succeeded, in killing you if I’d have given it a chance. Hell, it tried to take your arm off.”

She shook her head. “Ferran.”

“I told you to turn around, Chan.”

“The lesson has been successful, Ferran,” her grandfather said, sounding much closer to her than he should. “Holding the dove too tight will kill it. Is that what you desire? There is a reason Wesley forbids killings to take place around her, Ferran. It is not merely his need to spare Chandra from our very violent reality.”

“Gildas, she needs to learn not to interfere in pard business. I gave her the opportunity to have a say, equal to mine, but she refused to take it. Right now she could be telling me not to harm anyone and I’d have to consider her suggestion. Believe or not, I would respect what my wife had to say.” Ferran snarled. “She didn’t take the opportunity, Gildas, and you didn’t make her.”

“One cannot force another to marry, Ferran. To do so would be the same as building your home on quicksand.”

Ferran laughed. When he touched her back, she shivered. Leaning in close, he whispered, “We are far from finished, Chan.”

She drew in a deep breath, fighting the nausea that rode her. “Gawd, Ferran, I can feel his spirit around us. It’s desperate to hang on. It knows its going to hell.” The nausea intensified and it took all Chandra had to keep it together. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

Ferran cupped the back of her neck. “You’re wrong about this one, Chandra. I did have to. You just can’t admit it’s true. He would have killed you, even Gildas will agree with me. Hell, even another of his own kind would agree.”

She cringed as she felt the dark spirits coming for Fisk’s soul. Their cries, the haunting eerie echo they made sounded so loud in her ears that she shook her head. “Please, no more death.”

Ferran dug his fingernails into the wound on her arm, sending pain radiating through her. “Concentrate on here, Chan. Stop drifting off into your mind. Places I can’t reach.”

“Chandra,” her grandfather said. “Ignore the call of the dark spirits. They will take you with them if they can. The mountain has seen too much death. They are too powerful for one guardian alone. Ferran, you know better than to kill next to her. She has no one to hold her to us. If they decide to take her and she loses the internal battle, she will die.”

Dark shadows spun around her, dancing a slow dance--the dance of souls. It was both captivating and deadly. She followed them, captivated by them even though their cries tore at her ears, sending pain through her skull. Still, she reached out as one moved to her. It whispered to her in a language only a select few living souls could understand. It was the language of the dead.

Come.

The spirits swayed, as did she. The haunting melodies filled her head, chasing away the pain. She had to touch it, touch them. They formed the shape of a large gray wolf and she knew then it was Fisk’s soul trying to lure her but she couldn’t stop herself.

“I have to get to him.” Bucking back hard, she tossed the weight off her back, paying no mind to the fact that it was Ferran and reached out further, trying to make contact.

“What the fuck is she doing?” Ferran’s voice sounded far away.

“The dead call to her, Ferran,” Grandpa said, sounding even farther away than Ferran. “To kill one so evil in her presence has left the gate open for his soul to attempt to capture her own. The fact he was a shifter, a wolf, only intensifies that for Chan. To guide spirits on earth is part of her destiny. Part of who she has always been. Part of who she will always be. This much you knew yet you chose to ignore it. You also know that she has a severe handicap in comparison to other guardians--she is not a shifter nor is she immortal. This you knew as well.”

“What is she looking at?”

“My guess would be that she sees whatever form the man you killed has chosen to show himself in. So far, it has not attacked.” The need to follow her grandfather’s voice was powerful but the lure of what lay before her was greater.

“How do you know it hasn’t attacked?” Ferran asked.

“You will know when it does. It is not a thing a man who claims to love Chan would wish upon her regardless of how displeased he is with her need for peace. You shall see why she seeks it firsthand. Her inborn need is to see all to safety so she will attempt to still save him from the pits of hell. It matters not that he is evil, for Chan’s destiny does not afford her the opportunity to pick and choose who she guides. She must guide all to their fate.”

The shadow of the wolf continued to draw her attention. “Come on, it’s okay. Follow me. You don’t have to go with them,” she whispered, putting her hand out slowly.

The dark spirits swooped down and struck her hard, sending Chandra hurtling backwards. She did her best to stop herself, but nothing worked. Ferran reached out to stop her, but the spirits thrust him aside. She struck a table hard, rolled off, hit the floor as the table toppled over on her.

“Gildas, I felt something!” Ferran cried out. “It wasn’t Chan. It felt like....”

“Death,” Grandpa answered. “Do you feel like more of a man now, Ferran? Does it please you to know that your need to teach Chandra a lesson has now left her in a battle for not only her soul, but that of all souls present?”

“What?”

“Yes, Ferran, you announce that she is a guardian, thinking that all along she had hidden it from you but she is not the type of guardian you think her to be. Chandra is not like others that guard a race of shifters and maintain peace, settle disputes and deliver death to those who deserve it.”

Grandpa sighed before continuing on, “Chandra is a spirit guardian. Her greatest battles are fought with things that know no bounds, have no physical limitations. Should they win and destroy Chan prior to her own spirit guides coming to her aid then they will be unleashed upon mankind. It is why Chan will fight to the death--she has no other choice.”

Fisk’s breath caught. “I didn’t mean to ... I didn’t know. I thought she....”

Grandpa huffed. “You have always thought my granddaughter to be a bleeding heart. Weak because she does not carry the gene to shift into an animal like you, like me. Weak because she was terrified of what she saw you turn into, Ferran. And I do not mean your shifted panther form. I mean into a man who shows no mercy.”

“How do I stop it?” Ferran asked.

“You, do not. It is a task that she must endure herself or that another of her kind must help with--another soul guardian. Even I am powerless to help her fight the dark spirits.”

Another dark spirit fell from the air, scoring a direct hit. Chan screamed as pain ripped through her upper back. Scrambling to her feet she stood her ground, waiting for them to strike again. To her surprise, they seemed to fixate on the mystery man in the corner, near where her grandfather and Ferran still remained. That was odd. They never normally tried to steal another’s soul when she was still able to fight freely.

“You will not harm him,” she said, in the language only the dark spirits could understand, the language of the dead. The mystery man’s brown gaze flickered to her and she could see the question in them. Had he understood what she had said? No. He didn’t feel like someone with access to the dead. The spirits loomed over him still. “He is mine. You cannot have him.”

To lay claim to another’s soul was something Chandra had never done before. It was something a guardian would only do to protect their significant other, their spouse. But she didn’t think twice about it. There was no way she would let them have the man.

“Mason will come with us,” they whispered, in their native tongue. “We have waited a long time to take him.”

Mason? Who is Mason and what the hell are they talking about?

“Chan, search your heart and you will find the answers to that which you seek,” Grandpa said, somehow managing to break through the state of mind she was in when the spirits were near. It was testament to his power.

Search my heart?

“What your eyes and mind refuse to see and acknowledge, your heart already knows to be true.”

Closing her eyes, Chandra concentrated on the name Mason. Instantly, the image of the mysterious man filled her mind. He was Mason, the one the dark spirits wanted to take with them. Another image quickly followed. This one showing Mason above her, dropping down and capturing her mouth with his. It was so vivid it felt real.

The dark spirits moved dangerously close to Mason. Her heart pounded in her chest. She ran full force at them, diving into a handspring and tucking her legs to her chest as she went. Undoing herself, she kicked her foot out, sweeping her leg just over Mason’s head and knocked the dark spirits away from him.

Chandra dropped to her feet on the table before him and stood protectively. “I told you. Mason is mine. You cannot take him,” she said, still speaking the only way she could to the dark spirits.

“You shall die, too.” The dark spirits flickered in and out as they did when she wore at their strength. They had a limited amount of time to either get back to the gates of hell with their soul or kill her.

“I will die to protect him, if need be. But know that I will take you with me when I go.”

She searched the room for sign of Fisk’s soul, but found none. He was hiding, toying with her. Something growled out and struck her upper back with such force it sent her to her knees, teetering on the edge of the table. Blood ran down her shoulder.

Ferran rushed at her. He tried to bat at the nothingness around her but he wasn’t like her, he couldn’t fight them. They hit him hard sending him hurtling through the air. He landed on a table. It gave under his weight and he hit the floor with a thud.

The dark spirits spiraled back at her. She stood tall and put her hand out. Calling upon her power, her magik, she let it fill her. Something moved up next to her and she went to strike out but stopped the instant she locked eyes with the mysterious stranger named Mason.

“You’re hurt,” he said, reaching out for her. The sound of his voice rolled over her as though it were a power unto itself.

The dark spirits kept coming. Chandra went to push Mason out of the way but found him cradling her to his body. They hit and she released her power. Mason put his hand over hers and held it as the cold energy she held within filled the air.

“We will be back, femgatia,” they whispered with a sickening scream. Chandra couldn’t help but shiver. More and more they were referring to her as femgatia. Since there was no literal translation from the language of the dead to any other, the closest thing she could come up with was she-guardian.

Mason held tight to her. “Then it is you who will perish, for she is mine and you will not harm her,” he answered back in the language of the dead.

She gasped a second before Mason brought his lips dangerously close to hers. “Make her sleep, old man. I know you can.”