Marking Melody

by R. E. Butler

  Micah pulled back the sheets on the queen-size pull-out and climbed in, patting the space next to him with a boyish smile. She climbed on and settled on her butt, watching as Tristan joined them. They were shirtless but in their jeans, which Tristan assured her meant they would keep their wits about them and keep them from trying anything that would bring her scowling Uncle Jax into the room.

  They settled on either side of her in the dark room and scooted close. Tristan grunted. “This isn’t going to work.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?” she asked.

  “Well, yeah. There’s no such thing as a comfy pull-out. But what I mean is that you smell like Jax, and that is definitely not working for my cat.”

  He rolled over and reached for something on the floor. Then he turned back and put his shirt in her hands. “Put that on instead.”

  She laughed quietly. “And you won’t look?”

  Micah assured her they wouldn’t. Tristan snorted. “Speak for yourself. I’m trying really hard to see in the dark.”

  Pulling off her uncle’s shirt and tugging Tristan’s shirt — that was still warm from his body — over her head, she settled onto her side. Tristan was at her back and he moved closer, until their bodies touched and she was tucked against him. Micah wiggled down the bed a bit and rolled away from her, backing against her. She reached over him and laced her fingers with his, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and inhaling the sweet, spicy scent of him. He kissed her fingertips, and they all said goodnight.

  No matter what the sunrise brought, they were together and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter 4

  Monday afternoon Jilly Fallon walked through downtown King, Pennsylvania. No one would recognize the almost-eighteen-year-old. She wore a dark wig to cover her long, blonde hair, big sunglasses to hide her face, and men’s cologne. She couldn’t personally stand the stuff. It made her nose itch and her mountain lion snarl in disgust. But men’s cologne was something that the other females discovered actually repelled males. If a female smelled like a male already, male mountain lions tended to look the other way. Perfume, on the other hand, seemed to have an opposite effect, and drew attention to the females, which wasn’t what they wanted at all. The females wore heavy colognes to mask their natural lion scents. Coupled with wigs and sunglasses, it allowed them to keep an eye on things in town without being discovered.

  Jilly lived with twelve females in Twin Pines, thirty miles outside of King. They shared a large home that the head of their all-female pride, Layla, had purchased when they split from the rest of the pride. It had been a dark, frightening time for Jilly. Two of their females were killed by the human girlfriend of one of the males in King, and the females feared for their lives and scattered. Most settled in Canada, but Jilly hadn’t wanted to leave the states and had chosen to follow Layla and the others.

  Jilly stopped at the crosswalk and looked at the gas station across the street. A truck pulled in front of a gas pump. One of the workers came out of the station, and she recognized him as one of the Whitman brothers. The truck doors opened and two males got out with a female who had long, blonde hair. Jilly frowned. If she didn’t know better, she would think that the female was a mountain lion. But that didn’t make sense. She didn’t recognize the female. Perhaps she was human. Except there was something about her that screamed mountain lion to Jilly.

  After a brief pause, the male who came out of the station hugged the blonde female and then another male from the station joined in the hug. After a moment, Jilly realized that she recognized the two males who had gotten out of the truck as the Harrison brothers. They weren’t upset that the blonde was being hugged by two other males. The hairs on the back of Jilly’s neck rose, and her lips twisted in a grimace. Something was off with the situation. It almost looked like a…reunion.

  She fingered the cell in her pocket for a moment. It was her duty as a female to report any strange goings-on in the community. Her heart panged slightly as she lifted the phone from her pocket. There was a part of her, however small it might be, that wanted to ignore what she saw and report nothing. She knew the females would cause trouble for those males, whether the female was human, another shifter, or an unidentified female lion. If she wasn’t a lioness, then it might explain her being mated to the Harrison brothers. The males had discovered that they could share a mate, forming a polyandrous relationship. It went against everything she’d ever been taught by the females. That the males were supposed to only be with female lions and only for procreation. Having a relationship, creating a family — the females viewed those things as soft. Weak. Females were strong and independent, staying within their all-female pride not out of a sense of camaraderie or family, but because it was their way. Still, a part of her found the idea of having just one male — or two — care for her and no one else enticing.

  She turned away as the small group headed into the station and looked down at her phone. Calling Layla was the right thing to do for her pride, but it didn’t entirely feel like the right thing. Some of the females thought Jilly was too soft, that she cared about the males when she shouldn’t. She would never admit it to any of the females, but she did miss the large pride. The feeling of safety the males had provided, especially the male who raised her.

  Snarling inwardly, she dialed Layla and reported.

  “Are you on your way back?” Layla asked, after hearing about the two returning males, the suspicious blonde female, and what appeared to be a reunion at the gas station.

  “I’m going to do some more scouting. I’ll be back later,” Jilly said.

  “Fine. I’ll want a full report in the morning.”

  Jilly ended the call and walked back to her car she’d left at the park. She didn’t plan to do more scouting around King, but instead drove north twenty-three miles to Nemo’s Campground. She parked in the main parking lot and pulled off her sunglasses and wig, running her fingers through her hair and scratching her scalp, glad to be free of the confining wig. She came to Nemo’s when she wanted to be alone. None of the females knew what she did. They wouldn’t understand. The male who raised her had brought her and her biological brother here for vacations in the summer. When she left home to join with the females, she came to Nemo’s shortly afterward. She’d loathed her birth family, but she’d still felt lost. The females were about as compassionate with her as they were with the males, telling her to accept her role in the pride as one to keep the mountain lion lineage pure and to destroy any usurpers.

  A frisson of guilt wafted through her as she thought of the blonde female with the males. If she was a mate to those males, Jilly had just painted a bright red target on her back with that phone call. But shouldn’t the males have known better than to bring her back to King? And on the off chance she was a mountain lion, it made even less sense for her to come to King. The males in King hated the females with a vengeance and kept an eye out for them. They hadn’t yet figured out the disguises or that the town was being monitored, so maybe it was just their own fault for being lax.

  Rubbing at her temple, she sneezed when she caught another whiff of the strong cologne that masked her natural scent. She wanted to wash the scent off, shift, and go hunting. Grabbing a small backpack to stow her things, she got out of the car and headed for one of the many walking trails around the campground. The trail she chose crossed over a stream and she could rinse in the water and then go off the trail to shift and hunt.

  She started down the trail, her boots crushing the sun-dried leaves scattered along the path. Pausing, she caught the scent of something spicy. Inhaling again, she lost the scent and shrugged, continuing on her journey. But the scent plagued her from time to time, making her cat yowl and her body heat. Sweat poured from her, and it had nothing to do with the sunshine beating down on her through the canopy of trees.

  When she finally reached the stream, she peeled off her top and dunked it in the stream, squeezing the cool water over her head. She was shivering and twitching, her cat pa
cing in her head. Anxiety crashed over her, and she scrubbed at her wrists with her shirt to remove the cologne and then splashed cool water on her face.

  Something was wrong with her. Pressing her hand to her heart, she wondered if she was going to die. Her heart felt as though it might pound out of her chest.

  “Are you alright, little kitten?” a male voice asked her.

  Her head shot up and she found herself staring at twin males. They were identical save for one having slightly longer hair than the other. The one with longer hair was without a shirt and clad only in jeans. Her cat howled in her head, and her heart pounded so fast that she felt lightheaded. She’d been crouching next to the stream, and her legs weakened, causing her to tip to the side. She never hit the ground. Instead, she was caught up in the strong arms of one of the males. The same spicy scent she’d smelled before swirled around her as the two males caged her between them.

  * * * * *

  Fate Myers watched his twin, Wyked, pace around the fire pit where he and his family had enjoyed a campfire the night before. Wyked was the more aggressive of the two. Hard where Fate was soft. Rough where he was smooth. But he’d never seen his twin so agitated.

  “Would you stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy.”

  Wyked snarled and turned. “Don’t tell me you’re not feeling what I’m feeling. I’m going batshit crazy.” As if to prove his words, Wyked tugged on his shirt collar as if he were being choked.

  Fate was indeed feeling what his brother was feeling. A strange, deep anxiety that was making his panther prowl in his mind. But he was trying to remain calm. Flying off the handle — pacing like a caged beast — wasn’t going to reveal whatever they were feeling any faster. At least he didn’t think so.

  Their mother, Dionne, stepped out of the RV she shared with their father, Dag. “It sounds like an elephant stomping around out here. What’s the matter?”

  She sat next to Fate on a folding chair, looking at both her sons with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

  Wyked sighed loudly. “I feel strange.”

  “Strange how?” she asked as their dad joined them, resting one hand on their mother’s shoulder.

  “Antsy. Frustrated.” Wyked’s voice came out on a growl.

  She glanced at Fate with a raised brow. He nodded. “I feel the same.”

  “You’re not pacing,” their dad said.

  “I don’t want to get steamrolled by Wyked.”

  Their dad rubbed his chin in thought. “You’ve both been acting strange since we came into Pennsylvania. I wonder…” His voice trailed off.

  Fate’s cat snapped to attention. Their dad wondered what? He straightened and stood, facing their dad. Wyked came to stand by him. Fate could feel his twin’s tension, and the tension was mirrored in his own body. He’d tried to be calm. Breathe deeply. Not pace. But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t feeling as though his cat was about to erupt from his skin.

  Their mom looked up at their dad and understanding lit her face. “Oh, of course.”

  Wyked growled. “What?”

  Their dad’s head tilted to the side. “Maybe you two should take a walk.”

  “Stop speaking in riddles!” Wyked almost howled the words.

  Fate put his hand on Wyked’s arm. “Calm down.”

  Wyked spun away, snagged his hands in the collar of his shirt and ripped it off. In another instant, he shifted into his panther form. The sunlight glinted on his solid black fur as Wyked roared his displeasure.

  Fate watched his brother bound off into the trees. Looking back at his parents he said, “What’s going on? What do you see that we don’t?”

  “I think we came to this place for a reason. A reason that is affecting the two of you and your beasts,” their dad said as their mom stood and picked up the tatters of Wyked’s shirt.

  “By some miracle, the jeans are okay. Go take them to him so he doesn’t have to walk through the woods naked. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for and solve the riddle of your anxiety.”

  She dropped Wyked’s jeans into Fate’s hand and then strode to their father, taking his hand and leading him into the camper. They were both smiling and whispering, but since they walked away, Fate knew they didn’t want to tell him any more or share their thoughts. The RVs door shut, and Fate was left alone at their campsite.

  Tossing Wyked’s jeans over his shoulder, Fate headed into the woods to follow his brother, his mind racing to decipher what would drive him and his brother — and their beasts — crazy.

  * * * * *

  Wyked knew that racing off in his cat form was childish, but he was feeling too testy to not give in to his beast. Of course the rational part of his mind, however small it was at the moment, wanted to go back and find out what secret their parents were hiding behind their knowing smiles.

  As he slowed his run, he rounded a tree and headed back towards the campsite. He might only be nineteen, but that didn’t mean that he could act like a temperamental five-year-old. He needed to talk to Fate and try to figure things out. That they were both feeling strangely, and had been for the last few days, meant that something was going on. He caught the scent of something amazing and froze, his whole body on alert. Closing his eyes, he opened his mouth and drew in the scent slowly, allowing it to saturate his tongue and the deeper scent receptors at the back of his mouth. A growl rumbled in his chest. It was the most amazing scent. Thunderstorms and strawberries mixed together. Sweet. Exciting.

  Someone was walking towards him, and he knew it was his twin. Shifting into his human form, he held up a hand as his brother began to speak. “Smell that?” Wyked asked.

  Instead of asking what he was talking about, Fate stopped and inhaled. His eyes flashed to the gold of his beast for a moment. “What is that?”

  Clarity rushed through Wyked’s mind, and in that moment, he knew that Fate had come to the same conclusion. They’d been feeling anxious since they crossed into Pennsylvania because their mate was here in this state. And not just in the state, but near them. So near that they could smell her.

  Turning towards the scent, he tugged on the jeans that Fate tossed at him and they moved together through the woods and followed the scent of their mate. The sound of rushing water greeted his ears as they moved through the trees, and a stream came into view. A young blonde woman knelt next to the stream wearing only a thin white tank and splashing water on her face.

  He’d never been so completely attracted to a woman before. He cataloged her quickly. She was young, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Her hair was bright blonde like spun gold, and she trembled. With his sensitive hearing he could tell that her heart raced and matched the speed of his own.

  “Are you alright, little kitten?” he asked as he and Fate moved close to her. Her head snapped up, and she stared at them in surprise, her sapphire eyes widening. She shivered and began to fall, and he and Fate moved fast. Wyked snatched her up from the ground before she hit, pulling her against him. Fate moved to her back, and she was pressed between them. A perfect fit.

  His cat yowled in agreement.

  “Wh-who are you?” Her voice was breathy and high.

  Your mates.

  “I’m Wyked and this is my brother Fate. Are you okay?” he asked. His hand flexed on the small of her back, pulling her just a little closer. Stroking his thumb down her cheek, he watched her blink slowly and then sink her teeth into her bottom lip. She relaxed with a soft sigh, her warm breath fanning his face.

  “I don’t know,” she said. Her hands were clenched into fists on his chest, but she didn’t push him away.

  “Tell us your name, beauty,” Fate said in low tones.

  She shivered and the scent of her arousal spiked on the air. “Jilly.”

  Wyked’s cat howled in triumph. They’d found their mate. The one female who would be theirs to share forever. And she wanted them. He could feel it. Taste her desire on the air.

  He inhaled, wondering what type of shifter she was. A cat of some s
ort, but not a panther. It didn’t matter if she had pink fur and horns; she was perfect. Glancing at Fate, Wyked cupped Jilly’s cheek and lowered his mouth to hers. Just before he pressed his lips to hers, he whispered, “Mine.”

  She ground her body against his as her mouth opened on a moan and their tongues slipped against each other. He’d never known anything like the taste of her. Sweet. Addictive. She was his mate, and the female he would share with his twin. He’d known that as twins they would share their mate, but he’d never really given it much thought until this moment, with Jilly’s hands unclenching and flattening against his chest and her tongue gliding against his.

  He couldn’t mark her yet, but he could share blood with her so that they would be connected. His fangs elongated as soon as he had the thought and he scraped his tongue with the edge of one, drawing blood from himself, and grinned inwardly as Jilly sucked on his tongue with a purring sound. Pulling away from the drugging kiss, he punctured the inside of her lip with one fang and swiped his tongue at the blood that beaded on the surface. His cat purred.

  “Wyked,” she breathed his name, her tongue swiping against the mark he’d made on the inside of her lip. She smiled at him, her eyes dark with desire, and turned in his arms to face Fate.

  Fate kissed her, and Wyked could smell the sharing of blood. Panthers shared blood with their mates prior to marking as a way to always be connected. With only the smallest drop of her blood in his system, he would be able to find her and she would be able to find him. When the time was right, they would mate her fully, taking her as their mate forever.

  She said Fate’s name with the same reverent tone and then gasped as she grabbed the sides of her head with an anguished moan.

  Alarm raced through him as he and Fate reached for her at the same time, their connection to each other, now strengthened through the blood sharing, allowed him to feel her anguish as the scent of her tears filled the air.

  Something was very wrong with their mate.