by Tia Louise
“Welcome to the Art of Self Defense,” I say, clearing my throat and trying to summon my drill sergeant tone. I’m completely off my game knowing Koa is in the back and knowing what I just said to him.
I want to run home and hide and cry, but I have to be a badass. I am a badass. The fact he has this effect on me is exactly why I have to stick to my guns and not see him again. Whatever he’s doing here has nothing to do with me. I’m about getting out of here, no matter who I have to leave behind.
“Today we’re going to focus on defending yourself from a frontal attack…”
I’m lying on a velvet couch in the large living room staring at the dark flatscreen wishing my best friend Lana hadn’t moved to New York. I don’t have many friends in Woodland Creek, thanks to my sister. Hayden called earlier, but I let his call go to voicemail. Checking the voicemail, I hear him asking if I’d like to go to dinner.
“Fuck you very much,” I say under my breath, thinking of a million other things I’d rather do than be with him.
My phone is in my hand, and I’m staring at the screen when it lights up with a text, and I almost drop it.
Hi, Mercy! Hope you don’t mind, Jim gave me your number. I thought since we’re the same age, you might like to have a girls night or something.
I’m pretty sure I know who this is without asking, but I ask anyway.
Maybe… Who is this?
Oh! Sorry—it’s Sally. Want to meet up at the Spare Lounge?
It’s sad that I’m actually happy to be invited to the bowling bar in town, but I don’t care. I’m dying to get out of this empty mansion. Aunt Penny has been avoiding me for some reason ever since our strange conversation yesterday about great-great aunt Persephone.
Sure! What time? I text back.
About an hour?
I’ll be there in bowling shoes.
Oh, they provide the shoes.
I don’t reply it was a joke. Instead I simply text okay and hop off the couch, heading to my room to pull on skinny jeans and a scoop-necked black top. Oversized silver hoop earrings and a long necklace complete the look. I might be a bit too elegant for bowling, but I don’t care. It’s been a while since I went out.
The Spare Lounge is surprisingly crowded, but it is Saturday night, I guess. Several gym members are at one end having a heated competition on the last four lanes. Sally is waiting in a center lane in jeans and a light blue polo shirt. She’s wearing rainbow-colored bowling shoes and a smile.
“Thanks for coming out!” she hops toward me. “Let’s find you a ball.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” I grin, following her to the rack holding multi-colored bowling balls. “I have to tell you. I’ve only bowled twice in my life.”
“That’s okay,” she says, studying the lineup. “I’m trying it for the first time tonight.”
“Really?” My brow lines as I watch her.
“My therapist says I need to get out more. Be more social.”
“Oh.” Nodding, I study her a moment. She seems harmless. I suppose if I had a therapist—not that I think I need one—he or she would say the same thing. “Then we should be evenly matched.”
“Only you’re a lot stronger than I am.” She picks up a swirly purple ball and hands it to me. “How’s that one?”
It feels very light, but after all her effort handing it to me, I decide to cover. “You’re a bowling wizard! This feels exactly right.”
That wins me a little smile. “Run get your shoes. I’ll set up our scoreboard.”
Following orders, I go to the center island and hand over my Michael Kors pumps and am rewarded with a funky-looking pair of slick-soled, patchwork lace-ups.
“These are clean, right?” Cutting my blue eyes at the guy behind the counter, I ignore his stunned expression.
“Uhhh… yeah?”
So not encouraging. “Thanks.”
When I return to our lane, Sally has not only set up our scorecard, she’s ordered us a pitcher of cheap beer. I’ve never been happier to indulge. Today sucked ass, most specifically this morning when I pushed Koa away. I’ve been brooding about it ever since.
“I’ll get the next round,” I say, as she stands and clumsily picks up a swirly green ball.
She staggers forward toward the lane, and I worry for a second she might trip and end up dragged down the lane like one of those blooper reels, fingers still in the ball. She swings her arm back and then manages to release it in time. Sadly, it only rolls a few feet before heading straight to the gutter. Lips poked out, she turns and stomps back toward me.
“That’s okay!” I call. “Try again!” Her brows knit, and I nod. “You get two tries.”
She stops at the ball carousel and waits until her swirly green ball pops out of the chute. Picking it up, she repeats the entire process exactly the same, even down to the tense first moments, when I fear she might wind up in the pins.
Another gutter ball. “I suck,” she sighs, stomping back to where I sit and flopping into a plastic chair beside me.
“No!” I try to be encouraging. “You’re just learning! Practice is the key to everything.”
Standing, I pick up the purple ball and walk to the lane. Vaguely I recall giving up on bowling because I didn’t see the point. Lifting the ball behind me, I swing my arm forward releasing it in a perfect glide that slams into the backboard, all pins down.
“Strike!” Sally cries from behind me.
Turning back, I roll my eyes and shrug. “Beginner’s luck?”
“Oh, shut up. You’re good at everything.” Her sassy response makes me laugh, and I skip over to her, lifting a plastic cup of beer and taking a long drink before dropping to the chair beside her.
“Your turn,” I say.
“I thought you got to go twice?”
“Not when you bowl a strike. I’ll get the score for my next two rolls.”
She exhales loudly and pushes up, going to the carousel to retrieve her green ball. Two more rounds; two more gutter balls. I’m trying not to laugh as she sulks back to me and pours another large plastic cup of beer.
“I suck ass,” she cries, taking a long gulp.
“You do not,” I say, walking to take my next two shots. As anticipated, I bowl another strike, and Sally makes a cry of disgust.
Laughing, I turn back to where she’s sitting, but my chest clenches when I see Koa standing behind the row of chairs watching me, eyes smoldering. The smile dies on my lips as my body flushes with heat. Oh, shit.
“Does this mean I have to bowl two more gutter balls?” Sally cries, and I can tell she’s getting a little tipsy.
Walking slowly toward her, my eyes never leave Koa’s. He’s angry, that much is clear, but he’s still interested. The lust in his eyes makes the blood simmer just beneath my skin. I want to forget everything I said to him this morning and run to where he’s standing, jump into his arms and devour that amazing mouth.
Head in the game, Mercy. I internally scold myself, breaking my eyes from his and focusing on my new friend.
“You know they have gutter guards. I’ll ask the guy to raise them for us.”
“Gutter guards?” Sally lifts her head like I’ve just told her the holy grail is hiding under the ball carousel.
“Hang on.” I skip around the row of chairs, focusing on the guy who gave me the silly shoes on my feet, not allowing my eyes to scan the area for Koa.
“Mercy! Dude!” Jim is at the counter when I arrive.
“Hey!” I say, feeling inordinately relieved to see him. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, nothing. I was having dinner with Aunt Doris, and I noticed Koa was upstairs alone. He’s with me here. Did you see him?”
“Oh…” I struggle to find the right response.
“She did.” A deep male voice comes from behind me, and my eyes automatically slide closed.
His tone is tinged with irritation—of course it is! Still, I can’t make eye contact. I know if I do, he’ll see everything I’m
feeling plain on my face. Instead I wave to the pimple-faced teen behind the counter.
“Hi, would you be able to raise the gutter guards for us?”
“Dude, you don’t need gutter guards,” Jim interrupts me. “I saw you. You’re like a scratch bowler.”
I’m not sure that’s a thing.
“It’s for Sally,” I do a little smile-frown, and Jim looks over to where my mousey friend is waiting.
“I can totally teach her to bowl, dude,” he says. “We can join forces.”
“Oh, no!” I try to stop this unwanted development, but it’s too late.
The little attendant has already passed shoes to Jim, and my resident attacker is happily making his way to where Sally sits, leaving me alone at the counter with Koa.
“Okay, then,” I say through a little nervous laugh. “Unexpected.”
The sexy panther only glares down at me, causing a tiny bead of sweat to tickle its way down the center of my back. He’s super-pissed, and I know why. Still, if he’s decided to make Woodland Creek his home, I can’t allow myself to get any more involved with him. He’ll have to stay angry.
Quickly turning away, I hurry back to where Sally and Jim are talking about god knows what. When I get there, I quickly pour another large cup of beer, and take a seat in the row opposite them.
Koa follows me from a distance, and I can feel the weight of his gaze. His eyes roam my body like a caress, and the memory of his touch makes my inner cat want to stretch out and slide along his body. The thought evokes a shiver. His eyes darken, but I can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s so serious and composed and fucking sexy in his aloofness.
“Okay, dude,” Jim says, lifting Sally’s hand. “I’m going to teach you to bowl the way Mercy taught you to kick my ass today. You ready?”
Sally laughs, and for a moment, I can’t believe it. It seems like she might be interested in my goofy-sweet assistant. Not that I’m saying the idea is impossible. It’s just not something I saw coming.
The two of them head toward the lane, and Koa and I are left sitting apart from each other, watching them go. I want to say something to cut the tension, but I can’t think of anything casual. My traitorous brain wants to say the words that will take everything back. Bending my knees, I hug them to my chest, resting my cheek against them and focusing my eyes on our friends. In my peripheral vision, I see Koa pour himself a drink.
He might not understand it, but he’s honoring my request to stay away. He’s not saying a word, keeping his distance, and driving me crazy. Sitting here, so close to each other, the tension between us tightens with every breath. My eyes ache from being forced to watch Sally fumbling with her bowling ball.
A noise sounds from the desk, and my rebel gaze flies back to him. My chest clenches when intense green meets them. He’s looking right at me, I can’t seem to breathe. My entire body is silently begging for him, and I decide I’d better call it a night before I lose the battle. He might be strong enough to follow my request, but I’m clearly not.
Blinking rapidly, I manage a slight smile before I wave to Sally and make my excuses. I hope it doesn’t look like I’m running, but I have to get away from him.
Koa
I don’t know what to make of this. When Jim knocked on my door tonight and asked if I’d like to go with him to the local bowling alley, I never dreamed it would put me face to face with Mercy.
This town is fucking bullshit on a stick. First Andy lectures me on how Mercy is some kind of princess, which I already knew by tasting her blood, then I go to a piss-ant bowling alley, the commonest of the commonplaces, thinking I’ll drink a bunch of cheap-assed beer and forget how stupid this morning was, and what happens? In walks Princess.
Not only that, she looks like the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in her tight dark jeans and black top showing her cleavage. I remember vividly how her breasts taste and feel against my mouth. Shit.
I know how soft her skin is. I know how it smells like little flowers. She leans forward to throw a perfect strike, pointing her round ass in my direction, and I have a real battle on my hands. Instinctive urges vibrate beneath my skin every time she moves.
“You going to bowl, dude?” Jim tears himself away from Sally, the little mongoose of a girl who doesn’t even begin to distract my attention from the blazing siren accompanying her.
“No.” It’s all I can manage.
If it hadn’t been for what happened last night, I’d give up on this place. Ever since I’ve landed here, it’s been nothing but bullshit female drama. The sex might be out of this world, but I’m looking to rebuild my life. Mercy is clearly not a part of that objective.
I do my best to keep myself apart from her. I sit behind the row of seats trying to act like I don’t notice how hard she’s working not to look at me. How could she go from the confident, sexy woman of two nights ago to this? In that moment, her head turns and our eyes meet. Desire clenches my stomach, and I see it reflected in her eyes.
Two things are in my head. The first is Mercy’s request to stay away. The second is Andy’s warning. Her lip goes between her teeth, but I don’t look away. Let her squirm. She asked for this.
Granted, I’m a smart guy. I can be a bit obstinate at times, and one of my favorite things is to do the opposite of what everyone tells me I should; but, in cases like this, where females are involved, I always maintain control. As a result, that sexy little lynx can sit in that plastic chair and wonder what I’m thinking. The answer is nothing. I’m not here for her. I’m not sure why I’m here, but it isn’t for this.
Our eyes hold a moment longer, and she stands abruptly and goes to where Jim and Sally are giggling, fumbling over whose fingers go where.
For a moment, I feel like a self-absorbed idiot for not recognizing my simple-minded friend is making more play with the ladies than I am tonight.
“I’m sorry,” Mercy’s warm voice touches my insides like a brand. “I’m so tired, I’d better call it a night.”
“Dude, you’re kicking our asses,” Jim says, looking up at the scores on the television screens above.
She ducks her gorgeous brunette head and laughs. “I guess that’s why I’m tired. Or maybe you were too rough with me today?”
“I am so sorry. Did I hurt you?” Jim’s voice is suddenly serious.
Her face relaxes in a smile, and my grip on being angry falters. So much for not caring about her. “I was only teasing,” she says.
“I never get that,” he says flatly.
“I know.” She nods at Sally, who does a little wave.
She doesn’t even look at me before she jogs up the aisle to the exit, and it takes every bit of my willpower not to go after her. Instead I focus on keeping my ass firmly in this plastic chair, despite how it’s killing me to let her go.
I’ve scented her. I’ve bit her. I’ve tasted her blood. Everything about her is deeply familiar to me. We connected on a primal level. Still, I have to honor her request. Besides, I’m not so desperate I’ll chase after a woman who has her boss threaten to fire me.
Mercy leaves the Spare Lounge, and all my interest in staying goes out the door with her. Waiting a few extra minutes to give her time to be gone, I watch Jim and Sally play the remainder of the game. After what seems a safe interval, I stand and say my goodnights before heading out the door and back to Doris’s place. I don’t go upstairs. Instead, I slip out of my boots, and in the darkness of the empty garage, I strip down before shifting into my panther form.
Running feels good tonight. I worked out pretty hard this morning, but when I’m like this, I want to jump and climb. I also want to see what I can find out about my strange encounter last night. Mercy had me distracted all day, but lingering in my thoughts is a possible reason I’m here.
I’m back up the mountain, near the little creek, when I switch into stealth mode. Stepping quietly, retracing my steps from the night before, I keep to the shadows as I investigate the underbrush. Nothing looks unusual
or out of place. For a moment, I stop and inhale deeply, trying to detect a scent. The air is crisp with the scent of warm fires, stinging pine, and moldering leaves. It’s all forest. Lifting my head, I look up at the moon. It must’ve been a fluke, a one-time encounter. I’ve heard of such things before.
It’s late, and I decide to try sleeping in a bed tonight. Following a different trail back to town, I’m only running a little while when I realize I’ve wandered onto someone’s property. It’s not too far from the little meadow, an easy distance in shifter form.
Hanging around the tree line, I see an enormous house lit up like a beacon in the night. It’s strange because the place appears empty, and for a moment, I pause and wonder at it. Another step, and I drop to a crouch.
He’s here—or at least he was.
The sensation is all around me in the shelter of the trees. Jerking my head around in all directions, I find nothing. I’m alone. Still, his scent is in these woods. He either comes here often or he just left. Looking back at the house I almost shift when I see Mercy standing at the window looking up at the moon. Is that thing after Mercy?
For a moment, I gaze up at her. Even if I’m angry, I can’t deny her beauty. She’s wearing a thin robe, and her dark hair is swept over one shoulder. I watch as she leans her head against the glass, an expression of longing on her face. What’s on your mind, princess? Why are you pushing me away?
A feeling I don’t recognize spreads through my chest. I’ve never felt this way in my life. I can’t leave her alone. I’m staying to protect her.
Bending my legs, I get comfortable in the shadow of the trees. If that thing tries to come back, I’m more than ready to fight. She asked me to stay away, and I fully intend to follow her wishes. I might not understand it, but nothing will threaten Mercy as long as I’m here.
6
Exploring
Mercy
Sundays in the fall are my favorite days of the week. The gym is closed, and the weather is perfect for hiking in the woods, peeping at the changing leaves. It’s beautiful and fragrant, and I always save time to do a little shifting. Jumping around, hunting in my lynx form is exhilarating and fun. I’m bouncing with excitement as I head down the stairs to breakfast.