Bad Blood Leopard (Bad Blood Shifters Book 3)

by Anastasia Wilde

  Her hand moved down the back of his shorts, inside the waistband, warm on the curve of his ass. She stroked it, pulling him toward her. He shifted to one side and slipped his hand in between them, finding the perfect spot between her legs and stroking it over her sweatpants.

  She gasped, making the sexiest little sound, and he let her set the rhythm, capturing her lips and stroking her with is tongue the same way.

  Caitlyn moaned. Faintly, in the distance, Sloan heard the low rumble of thunder. But she was filling him with heat and light, and then she pushed down her sweatpants and panties so his hand could find her slick wet core.

  Holy fuck. The scent of her arousal, the feel of her, almost made him crazy. He dragged her pants the rest of the way off and pulled her on his lap. He held her close to him, licking and sucking at her breast while his hand moved in between her legs. He slipped a finger slowly into her, and when she shivered and pushed against him with a soft moan of delight, he added another.

  “Aaah. Sloan, I—” her words broke off in another moan. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  He worked his fingers slowly, carefully, filling her again and again, feeling her move to meet him, her breath catching in soft whimpers, eyes closed.

  He moved his mouth back to hers, tongues tangling, feeling the heat and the tension building within her. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

  He moved his fingers to her clit, circling and teasing it, then slid back down her core to fill her again. She moaned aloud, and so he repeated the stroke, over and over, faster and faster. She clutched his arms, head dropped back, fingers digging into his arms like talons.

  “Oh my god. Yes. Yes…” she clenched her teeth, almost as if fighting the sensation, and he shifted her to spread her legs even further, giving him greater access. He thrust into her, three full fingers, his thumb teasing her clit with every stroke.

  Her thighs spread wide, completely open to him, and then she was shaking in his arms, shuddering with a deep climax. It was so intense Sloan almost came too, as if he could feel it in his own body, as if they both had ascended some mountain peak and then come floating down, lighter than air.

  He stroked her softly, the sight and scent and feel of her filling his senses. He was rock hard and desperate with wanting, but his release could wait.

  He withdrew his hand and held her to him, whispering in her ear—sweet things, gentle things. Words to make her feel beautiful. Valuable. Loved.

  Gradually, both their breathing quieted. He shifted her so they lay side by side, safe in each other’s arms. The thunder rumbled, faint now, almost inaudible.

  “See?” she whispered drowsily. “The storm is gone. We’re okay now. You can sleep.”

  Chapter 14

  He should have known it wouldn’t last. The storm came back around, waking him with a sudden crash of thunder right overhead.

  Hell. He’d been sleeping like the dead. And Caitlyn…

  Caitlyn was gone.

  He fought his way out of the blanket fort, trying not to panic. She was probably in the bathroom. Or had gone back to a real bed…

  But she hadn’t. The trailer felt empty. Cold. Dark.

  There was another crash of thunder; another flash of light like the night had been sliced open.

  He waited for the terror to hit, for the flashback to take him. For Kayisha to come. All he felt was that cold sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. Where was Caitlyn?

  A gust of wind swept through the trailer, banging the door open and bringing in cold damp air.

  The door. She’d gone out and left the door unlatched.

  Something was wrong here. That cold pit in his stomach writhed like it was full of snakes.

  Kayisha. Angry. Vengeful. Full of destruction. Coming with the thunder, able to reach people through their dreams, pull them out of bed to walk in their sleep.

  With everything inside him, he knew. There was a reason Kayisha’s ghost wasn’t here. Tonight, the ghost didn’t want him.

  It wanted Caitlyn.

  He ran outside and down the porch steps, buffeted by the wind. It ruffled his hair and dropped fat drops of rain on his face.

  The storm was coming. She was out in it alone.

  He dropped to the ground, trying to see footprints, catch a scent trail. There was a faint one, leading off into the woods.

  Right toward the cliff.

  Sloan started to run.

  Caitlyn’s scent faded as the rain came down, but he knew in his gut he was headed in the right direction. Change, he begged his animal. He would be so much faster as a cat. But his leopard was cowering inside, hiding, terrified of the explosions to come.

  Coward. Damn fucking coward.

  He felt like he was reliving his nightmare. He slipped and slid through the forest, fighting the rain and the branches that whipped his face and arms, leaving stinging welts.

  Why did Kayisha want Caitlyn? Revenge, because she made Sloan happy? Because losing her would hurt him more than dying himself?

  I have to get there in time. I have to get there in time. She can’t be killed because of me.

  He ran faster than he’d ever run before, legs burning, lungs on fire. And still, like his dreams, he felt like he was moving through molasses.

  He wasn’t going to make it.

  He burst out of the woods near the edge of the cliff. There she was, about thirty feet away, walking unseeing toward the edge.

  Kayisha hovered over the ravine, her mouth moving, saying words Sloan couldn’t hear.

  A hundred feet of empty space yawned below her.

  “Caitlyn!” he yelled. “Caitie, wake up!” She was almost over the edge.

  Caitlyn started, and turned.

  Sloan ran toward her, begging his cat to come out. One leap…

  Earth crumbled under Caitlyn’s feet. Sloan dived for her, knowing he was too far away.

  Caitlyn glanced below her to the gaping abyss, and tried to get her balance.

  A clap of thunder came at that exact moment, startling her. She teetered at the edge of the cliff, and then the earth tore out from under her feet and she was gone.

  Sloan couldn’t stop his own momentum. He hit the muddy ground, knocking the wind out of himself, and slid right off the cliff into the abyss.

  The fall lasted forever. He could feel every drop of rain, every gust of wind, see every detail of the sharp rocks rushing up to meet him. He closed his eyes. Kayisha had her revenge after all. I’m sorry, Caitie…

  Then he heard a wild scream overhead. Pain seared through him as huge talons closed on his bare arm, raking great gashes in the skin and muscle. His body jerked, his shoulder almost coming out of the socket.

  He was lifted up, his feet nearly brushing the rocks below, and then with great beats of her wings, the snowy owl floated out past the rocks and deposited him gently on the ground.

  Sloan lay numb, rain pouring down on him, mixing with the blood the mud on his skin. His right arm felt like it had been slashed to ribbons.

  The owl landed next to him, shimmered, and turned into Caitlyn.

  She looked up into the air, where Kayisha was still hovering, her mouth open in a scream that could be pain or rage.

  “What the fuck was that?” Caitlyn yelled. “Don’t ever mess with me again, you fucked-up ghost. You’ll get your justice, but you won’t fucking do it by killing us! Stay the hell away from us both!”

  Sloan stared, his brain imploding. Caitlyn was a snowy owl. A spook. His ghost was real. And Caitlyn could see her.

  Chapter 15

  Slowly, far above him, the ghost faded away. Sloan stared at Caitlyn, feeling like he’d never seen her before.

  “Holy fuck. You’re a spook,” he said, scooching away from her, wincing as his injured arm touched the ground. Blood was streaming from the gouges her talons had made, and he’d probably torn his rotator cuff. But that pain was nothing compared to the bitter betrayal shooting through him. “You’re a goddamn spook,” he repeated, still incre
dulous. “What do you want? Why did you come here?”

  She stepped forward, and he moved back again. “Get away from me,” he snapped. He’d only ever trusted one spook, and he was dead.

  “I’m not a spook,” she said, her voice still upset and angry. “I just want to help you.”

  Help him?

  “By lying to me? By concealing who you were so you could get close to me?” She didn’t care about him. God, he was such an idiot. “Just get the fuck away.”

  “How about by saving your life?” she cried out, tears gathering in her eyes. “And you’re welcome, by the way.” She looked like she wanted to scream and cry and punch him, all at once. “Have a good one.”

  She flung out her arms, letting them ripple into wings.

  She was beautiful—as beautiful as a bird as she was as a human. Downy, soft-looking feathers balanced out by a wicked-looking beak and talons. Her wingspan was at least as wide as he was tall, but her wings made no sound as she flew away.

  Great. This was just fucking great.

  Sloan concentrated, calling on his cat, but he was nowhere to be found. Of course not.

  He started for home, limping along on feet that were all torn up by his barefoot run through the forest, holding his wounded arm with his other one so it didn’t hurt quite so much. Blood still oozed from the slashes she’d made.

  Saving his life. When he’d been trying to save hers. The irony was not lost on him.

  After a minute, she glided in front of him, still as silent as if she’d materialized out of thin air, and landed.

  “Fuck,” he said, stopping. “You are like a ghost. You don’t make any fucking noise.”

  She Changed, looking hurt. “I can’t help it. It’s how my feathers are made.”

  “Good for you,” he grunted. The sight of her standing there, gloriously lush and curvy and naked, brought back a rush of memories from earlier in the evening. Soft thighs and wet heat and sexy cries. A deep hunger rose up in him. More than desire. Longing.

  Longing for what he’d thought they could have.

  He walked on, brushing past her, trying not to touch her. He felt like the touch of her skin would sear him to the bone.

  He could feel her still there behind him, as though the warmth of her body reached out like a force field, keeping him in place. He tried to move his feet, but they wouldn’t go.

  “You can’t Change right now, can you?” she said softly.

  No way was he exposing his weakness to her. “None of your fucking business,” he muttered. “Leave me alone.”

  “Your feet are all torn up.”

  “No shit.”

  “From running through the woods.” Her voice grew small. “Trying to save me.”

  He sighed. “Yep. That really worked out well, don’t you think?”

  He heard her take a step towards him. “But you tried. You ran your feet bloody. For me.”

  He heaved a great sigh. “Yeah.”

  She walked up behind him and he felt her arms slide around his waist. “Thank you,” she said. “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

  He felt a soft kiss on his shoulder blade.

  Damn it all to hell.

  He took a deep breath. Her warmth against his back sent shivers all the way to his soul.

  “My cat won’t come out when it’s thundering,” he said. “Or when I’m having flashbacks.”

  She rested her cheek on his back. It was all he could do not to nestle back into her softness.

  “Can I try?” she asked. “To get him to come out? You can’t walk all the way back like this. If you Change, at least your paw pads will probably heal.”

  “It won’t work.” And it would just humiliate him even more.

  “Please?” Her voice was so gentle. It made the back of his eyes sting.

  Fuck. He was such a pussy. “Is leopard whispering one of your spook superpowers?”

  “Maybe.”

  She walked around in front of him, never losing contact, her hand skimming the skin of his back and stomach. Then she reached up and tilted his head down until their foreheads were touching.

  Sloan closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see the pity in her face. But when she touched him, everything hurt less. His arm, his feet, his heart.

  She started murmuring, her voice almost too low to hear. A gentle, hypnotic litany. He found himself listening to the sound more than the words, except for a few here and there. Brave. Strong. Mysterious. Beautiful.

  Sloan felt something hard and tight in his chest loosen and expand. It grew warm… hot… like a flame had been lit inside him. His cat was suddenly there, under the surface, uncurling as if he’d just been asleep, and what was all the fuss about?

  The words continued, dropping directly into his heart, warming the cold places, dispelling the fear and uncertainty and gnawing feeling of inadequacy that seemed permanently lodged there, like a bone in his throat.

  He felt wrapped in comforting wings.

  His leopard stretched, moving forward into the sunlight. A wild sensation rose his chest, the vibration shaking him.

  He was purring. He hadn’t done that since… hell. He didn’t even know.

  Without thinking, he moved his head, rubbing his cheek against hers in a gesture of affection.

  Then, effortlessly, his cat took over his skin.

  His other self rippled out into the night, the breaking bones no more than a moment’s discomfort. The pain in his arm receded. It hurt a bit to put weight on the right foreleg, but not as much as it had hurt to walk through the forest with his feet scraped and bloody. Those wounds had closed entirely, his tough paw pads comfortable on the forest floor.

  Her smile came back, lighting up her face like the sun coming out. “Oh,” she said softly, running her hands through his fur. “You’re so beautiful.” She bent and leaned her cheek on top of his head. “Thank you for trying to save me,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re not mad at me anymore.”

  He wasn’t. He should be. You should never trust a spook. He’d learned that the hard way.

  Caitlyn ran her hand lightly over his wounded leg, and he felt warmth spreading through it. The pain receded even further.

  Who was this woman, really? What was she doing here?

  She pressed her forehead against his, then kissed his cheek ruff. “I’m going to Change now,” she said. “We’ll go back together, okay?”

  She shimmered, and shifted into her owl form. Her beautiful, wise eyes looked out at him from in between her feathers, and she hooted softly.

  Then she spread her wings, silent as a ghost, and glided through the trees, leading him home.

  Chapter 16

  When they got back to the trailer, Caitlyn and Sloan Changed on the porch before he ushered her inside. She could see he still had questions.

  Why, why hadn’t she told him about herself earlier, when she had the chance? Why had she let him find out like this?

  Damn Kayisha. Why wouldn’t she leave them alone?

  Once they were inside, standing by the ruins of their fort, the silence stretched out. The sense of closeness they’d had in the woods was gone, and neither of them knew what to say. She suddenly realized they were both naked, and felt a flush rising in her cheeks.

  “I should get dressed,” she murmured, turning for the bedroom.

  His hand snaked out and captured her wrist. “Don’t hide from me,” he said quietly. “Talk to me. I know the army’s probably been looking for me, for desertion. Is that why you’re here? Did they send you after me, beautiful spook?”

  Beautiful spook.

  “I’m not a spook,” she said, hearing the bitterness in her own voice, not able to meet his eyes. “I’m a secretary, okay? A fucking secretary who sees visions. I saw you, and I left my clan and my job and my pledged mate because I didn’t want you to die. And I can probably never go back.”

  She felt his intake of breath. Warm fingers moved to her chin, tilting her head up to l
ook in his eyes.

  “Tell me,” he said softly.

  “I saw you dying,” she said, tears filling her eyes even though she tried her hardest to will them away. “I saw you going over the cliff. I didn’t know when it would happen, only that it would. I had to stop it.”

  “You didn’t know when it would happen…” He stopped, a frown creasing his forehead. “How long have you been watching me?”

  “Almost six weeks.” He was going to hate her now. She was a spy, just like he thought. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know it was intrusive, spying on you. When I kept you from going off the cliff, I thought it was over, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t—”

  He was staring at her in disbelief. “You left home and spent almost six weeks of your life watching me, day and night, just for that one moment?”

  She nodded.

  “Shit,” he said, looking stunned. “No one has ever done anything like that for me. I mean, my crew looks out for me. We all look out for each other. But to drop your whole life and follow me around for six entire weeks… Holy fuck.” He gave a short, incredulous laugh, running his hand through his wind-tousled hair. “Mind blown.”

  “I had to,” she said. “I couldn’t let you die. Not if I could save you.”

  He sat down on the back of the couch, looking as if he was still trying to take it in. “But… wait,” he said. “You saved me from going over the cliff the night of the last thunderstorm, didn’t you? By dive-bombing me, shrieking.”

  She nodded once more.

  “Before you even applied for a job at the shop.” She could see him putting the pieces together in his mind. “So, if you already thought you saved me, why didn’t you just go home? Why did you stay?”

  She raised her eyes to his. “You know why,” she said, her voice husky with unshed tears. “Because I saw you. The kind of person you are. How you’re always caring for your crew, doing things for them and watching out for them when they don’t even know you’re doing it.”