Bad Blood Panther (Bad Blood Shifters Book 4)

by Anastasia Wilde

  Their eyes met, and his voice died out. He tucked the baggie slowly into his pocket. “I’m not…I don’t know why I did it. Gross, right? I thought…”

  He stopped talking again, wiping his palm back and forth against his thigh.

  “Thought what?” Her heart was pounding in her chest.

  He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Tiny bits of glitter dropped onto the shoulder of his t-shirt and sparkled in his hair. “Um. My cat—who I take no responsibility for—wanted to bring it. For your panther. As a gift.” He took a deep breath, then said really fast, “He thinks you’re his mate. Our mate. Shit.”

  He turned and took a step as if he were going to walk away, turned back, then turned away again. Like he wanted to leave, but he couldn’t.

  She took a step forward, scared of spooking him. “What do you think?” she asked softly.

  She found herself holding her breath. Xander was sweet, crazy, complicated, and dangerous. But her heart yearned toward him, the way it always had.

  Always would.

  He turned back toward her. They were closer now. Only a foot apart.

  “I don’t know.” She saw him swallow hard. “Except…when I saw you sleeping in there this morning, I wanted… Well, I can’t tell you all the things I wanted, because some of them are perverted.” He stepped toward her. “But this was one.”

  He stroked his knuckle up her jawbone and cupped her cheek. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

  It was warm and sweet and somehow made her want to cry. It made her want to rub up against him and kiss away everything that hurt him.

  He pulled back, giving a self-conscious half-laugh. “You can slap me now,” he said.

  She rested her hands on his chest instead. Say it, she told herself. Don’t be a chicken. If he can do it, you can.

  “When panthers choose a mate,” she said, “the males bring the females a fresh kill.” She glanced at the rabbit. “They don’t usually put glitter on it, though.”

  Xander gave a ghost of his cocky grin. “It’s my personal signature.”

  Jenny traced one of his pecs with the tips of her fingers, hating herself for being such a damn wuss. Why was this so hard for her? She pushed the words out. “If the female likes it—likes him—she eats some of it. If not, she ignores it.”

  Xander played with a strand of her hair, slipping it between his fingers. “So what does your panther think of my glitter rabbit?”

  Screwing up her courage, Jenny gave him a quick kiss, with a tiny bite on his lower lip. “I think it’s a good thing my panther took a bite out of that before you glittered it up.” She stepped away and headed for the stairs. “Otherwise, I’d be pooping sparkles for the next couple of days.”

  She walked off down the steps, hoping her ass was swaying seductively, and she wouldn’t do something stupid like fall flat on her face.

  Xander looked at her, and then the rabbit, and then her again.

  He looked stunned speechless. But he was smiling, just a little bit.

  That made her brave. “You coming?” she said, turning around in the middle of the path. “My panther’s the one who likes dead rabbit presents. Me, I need coffee.”

  Her bravery lasted until she got to the main cabin—and then it trickled away, like it always did.

  Not that Flynn’s pancakes weren’t awesome. So was the main cabin. If Jenny had ever designed a dream house, the cabin would be it.

  Most of the main floor consisted of a two-story great room with a living and kitchen area, and a curved wooden staircase with a carved banister, leading to a loft. The kitchen was all warm wood and granite and sleek black appliances, and there was a breakfast bar and a dining area with a heavy wooden table, scarred with claw marks.

  The living area held a massive stone fireplace; deep, comfortable-looking leather couches and chairs; and a huge widescreen TV. There was just enough clutter to make it look homey and lived-in.

  It was a hell of a lot more welcoming than Flynn was. He served her pancakes silently, accompanying them with a calculating, predatory look that made her mouth go dry.

  He’d been a little nicer last night, after Sloan said she and Xander were mates. They all had—helping her get settled in his spare room, and explaining a little more about the crew and way he was. Jenny wasn’t dumb enough to think that meant they liked her, though.

  They just loved Xander.

  That was obvious, after the shock of the whole crazy shed thing wore off and she understood what was really going on. Just the fact that Flynn and Tank had taken a couple dozen deep and painful panther claw gouges without comment or complaint, trying to help him, told her how much they cared about him.

  They were all willing to bleed for him. They’d accept her if it made him happy. But if it didn’t, if he couldn’t handle the bond, they’d kick her out without a single regret.

  For one tiny moment, she longed to find a place where she could just be accepted for herself. Then she shut down the self-pity party. She would just have to be a really good mate to Xander, and get him to accept her. Maybe eventually he would even love her.

  And when he was ready, she’d tell him about Brandon. She had to make this work. If Xander bonded with her, with Brandon, then the crew would protect them for his sake, if nothing else.

  In the meantime, she knew she was getting those looks from Flynn because he still thought she was about to bring trouble down on his crew. He hadn’t insisted that she tell him her story last night—he said it could wait till morning, when Xander could hear it too.

  But he hadn’t forgotten. She already knew enough about Flynn to realize he didn’t forget things like that.

  The others didn’t try to talk to her much during breakfast, which she was grateful for. She was stressed out enough without trying to think of things to say to them.

  She observed them instead, especially Flynn, because after Xander, he was the key to her getting to stay here. Jenny had to figure out what kind of person he was, what he wanted, so she could do all the right things to make him accept her.

  When she first saw the inside of the cabin and compared it to the trailers Xander and Sloan and Caitlyn lived in, she’d assumed that Flynn, like the alphas of Broken Hill, kept his crew in their places by making them live in modest dwellings while he spent money lavishly on himself.

  It only took her halfway through breakfast, though, before she realized that wasn’t true at all. The whole crew was at home in the cabin, wandering in without knocking or announcing themselves, helping themselves to food and coffee, wrangling over whether they were going to watch baseball or hockey on the big screen that afternoon.

  “But it’s hockey playoffs,” Xander whined. He grabbed a cinnamon bun off a tray Jasmin had just pulled out of the oven, and juggled it from hand to hand. “Ow! Hot!”

  “Definitely hockey,” Lissa said. “Go Devils!”

  Brody rolled his eyes. “Atlanta Braves, dude.”

  “Not a dude, dude,” Lissa said, at the same time Xander said, “Nobody cares about early season games. Or baseball. What part of ‘playoffs’ don’t you understand?”

  Brody turned to his mate. “Jaz, help me bleed them, would you? We can turn on the Braves while they’re getting bandaged up.”

  She snorted. “Hockey fan, here,” she said, as if she’d said it a million times before. “And I’m the one usually doing the bandaging, so this helps me how?”

  Brody play-pouted, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzling her hair. “I thought you loved me more than hockey.”

  Jasmin wrinkled her brow in mock thought. “Hmm. I’ll get back to you on that.”

  Brody just grinned and swiped her long hair away from her neck so he could kiss it.

  Tank stayed quiet, chowing down on his pancakes. He wasn’t a morning person either, apparently.

  “Where’s Sloan and Caitlyn?” Flynn asked, mixing up a fresh batch of batter. He definitely did not spend lavishly on his clothes—what there were
of them. He was wearing nothing but a pair of faded, low-slung jeans so covered in rips they were barely holding together. And no underwear—half of one of his ass cheeks was hanging out of an especially big rip on the butt.

  So much for alpha dignity.

  “Fucking, probably,” Xander answered indistinctly, around a mouthful of cinnamon bun. “I interrupted their Sunday morning boink-a-thon, so they had to start over.”

  Jenny almost choked on her pancake. She could never in a million years imagine someone telling Alton—or Rhett, the last Broken Hill alpha—that a member of the clan was missing a gathering because they were…fucking. She shrank into herself, waiting for the explosion.

  But Flynn just gave a little snort and shook his head.

  Jenny didn’t know what to make of him. Sometimes he was super-scary, and then other times he was…like this.

  She wondered how good an alpha he really was. Rumor had it that he was powerful, dominant, paranoid, reckless and insane. He had managed to form this group of crazies into a crew, but she had yet to see if they were actually functional. Power and dominance alone didn’t make a good alpha—and paranoia, recklessness and insanity definitely didn’t. Look at Alton.

  An alpha had to be strong, but he also needed compassion for his people and the wisdom to make good decisions for them. She hoped Flynn had that.

  She watched Xander, too. He didn’t talk to her much either—just kept giving her sidelong looks and piling food on her plate. Jenny couldn’t be sure what he was feeling, but she was still tingling from that kiss.

  He wanted her to be his mate. At least, his panther did. And he felt…something.

  Was it enough?

  How would he feel when he learned about Brandon?

  Xander noticed Jenny’s coffee cup was empty, and got up from his seat to get her more. He’d remembered how she liked it—light with just a touch of sugar. Whether he realized it or not, he was acting like a mate already. She smiled at him.

  The room went quiet, everyone staring at him.

  Xander looked around. “What the fuck?” he said. “Haven’t you morons ever seen me pour coffee for someone before?”

  There was a short silence. “Nope,” Brody said. Jasmin shook her head.

  Xander frowned. “For realz?” He gave that some thought. “I really am a total asshole, aren’t I?”

  “Maybe not a total asshole,” Lissa said. “Sometimes you’re kind of sweet.”

  “I am?” Xander shook himself like he’d been sprayed with water. “Yeesh. Somebody warn me next time, so I can stop.”

  “Not to worry,” Caitlyn said, coming in from the entryway with Sloan. “You usually stop pretty quickly on your own.”

  That got a few snickers, but it was affectionate laughter. Surprisingly, Jenny found herself envying Xander. He’d found a place where he was accepted and loved, despite his flaws and problems and craziness.

  She wondered if she would ever fit in here.

  She wondered if they would ever want her to.

  Chapter 9

  All too soon, breakfast was over. Jenny tried to make it last by helping with the cleanup, but Flynn was not letting her get away with that.

  “You two,” he said, pointing at Jenny and Xander. “Upstairs in my office.”

  Here it comes, Jenny thought, her mouth getting dry all over again. Just the thought of facing down a dominant like Flynn and trying to tell her story without giving away all her secrets was making her feel nauseous.

  He makes pancakes, she reminded herself. He cares about Xander. So he can’t be that bad, right?

  Scary, said her panther.

  Yeah. She’d been such an idiot. Why hadn’t she realized, when she came here, that in a crew this small she’d be dealing directly with the alpha? She’d imagined she’d be dealing with Xander, and then he’d talk to the alpha for her.

  Xander didn’t look scared, though. And the rest of the crew didn’t seem scared of Flynn either.

  Yeah, but they’re crazy.

  Flynn’s office turned out to be the front part of the loft, and consisted of a large and extremely messy desk, a filing cabinet, a liquor cabinet, and a few chairs. The back portion of the loft was separated from the office by a tinted glass wall, which gave the bedroom behind it a spectacular view out the windows set into the peak of the roof.

  If Jenny hadn’t been so nervous, she would have swooned with envy. Apparently, Flynn did keep a few alpha perks for himself.

  He waved them to the chairs, while he leaned against the loft railing, his arms crossed and his ginormous muscles bulging.

  God. He could break her in half without even trying.

  He fixed his eyes on Jenny. They were so dark they were almost black, like his hair, and they contained an almost terrifying intelligence.

  “So,” he began. “Hit me with it. What kind of trouble are you in, and why the fuck did you decide to bring it here?”

  His dominance pressed down on her like a boulder. She tried to remember the story she’d rehearsed, but all she managed to force out of her throat was an embarrassing noise that sounded like, “Eep?”

  “Yeesh, Flynn, you’re scaring her,” Xander said. “Cut it out. She’s shy.”

  “Fuck,” Flynn said, moving his gaze to Xander. “Well, tell her I don’t bite.”

  Once he stopped looking directly at her, the dominance boulder felt like it lifted a little.

  “You do bite,” Xander said. Jenny choked back another eep sound. He added, “Try dialing down the dominance, would you? I can barely breathe, and I think Jenny’s on the edge of asphyxiation over there.”

  The pressure on her chest dissipated. Flynn muttered something about his crew hooking up with scared little bunnies who’d never been away from their clans before.

  “Fine,” he said. “See? I’m nothing but a friendly pussycat.”

  Pussycat, my ass. But at least she could breathe again. And think.

  “So,” Flynn said. “Did you two get this mate shit figured out?”

  What? They’d only been awake for, like, two hours. They hadn’t even talked yet. How were they supposed to have it figured out?

  Xander lounged back in his chair, playing with the stapler from Flynn’s desk. “I brought her a dead glitter rabbit,” he said. “Does that count?”

  Flynn rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”

  “Hey,” Xander said. “Don’t make fun. Her panther ate some. In pantherland, it means she thinks I’m fuckable.” He opened the stapler and squeezed it, shooting a staple across the desk.

  Jenny felt herself go beet-red. How could he talk that way about what happened this morning?

  “Shit, Xander, you’re embarrassing her,” Flynn said.

  Xander glanced up. “I am?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. Jenny looked down at her hands, her face still burning. “Oh,” he muttered. “Shit. Sorry.”

  Flynn’s eyebrows went up at that. It looked like Xander apologies were still pretty rare. Jenny rushed to change the subject. Who knew it would seem less scary—and less embarrassing—to talk about Broken Hill?

  “Um, Flynn? You wanted to know why I came here?” she asked.

  Flynn sighed. “Not really,” he said. “Mostly I want to know what trouble you’re potentially bringing down on my crew, and why you brought it here in the first place.”

  “Me too,” Xander said. “And, just FYI, that ‘I don’t think anybody’s after me’ shit from last night—not at all convincing.”

  It was probably true, though. Alton probably wasn’t after her. He was after Brandon. She should tell them that now, but she just couldn’t bring herself to. Xander wasn’t ready yet. He could barely handle the idea of the mating bond, and if he freaked out, Flynn might make her leave. This was her one chance; she couldn’t blow it.

  She needed to get Xander used to the idea of being her mate before she hit him with another major shock.

  “I kind of have to start at the beginning,” she said to Flynn. “Is tha
t okay?” She glared at Xander. She wasn’t afraid to do that; he wasn’t scary. Just rude. “And I never sound convincing. It’s a downside of being shy.”

  Flynn rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. “Just start sometime this century, okay?”

  Fine. She took a deep breath.

  “Broken Hill is a big clan,” she began. “Almost a hundred panthers. It used to be even bigger.” Until Alton took over. “The last two alphas, Rhett Powell and his father Liam, built up the clan’s numbers, and even more important, they built up the clan’s wealth with strategic business investments. They own several very profitable corporations.”

  Flynn nodded, with a gesture to get to the point, already. But he wouldn’t understand if she didn’t explain it all.

  “There was a faction that didn’t like the idea of a panther clan going corporate. They didn’t want to leave the old ways behind; they felt like our animals were being shunted aside, that the clan was getting too human and forgetting who they really were. About five years ago, that group secretly began plotting to take over the clan, led by a shifter named Alton Raines.”

  “Douchebag,” Xander muttered.

  Flynn looked questioningly at Xander.

  “I never liked that guy,” Xander said. He shot off another staple, then turned suddenly to Jenny. “Didn’t you date him? After Cindi and I—” He broke off.

  “Yes, I ‘dated’ him.” She made air quotes around the ‘date’ word. Alton had treated her like dirt, as if he were doing her a favor by paying the tiniest bit of attention to her.

  As if fucking him was an honor. When actually he was terrible at it.

  “He ‘dated’ everybody,” she said. “Mostly at the same time. Panther clans—unlike a lot of shifters—tend to have more females than males. In order to keep our clan pure panther, Alton wanted to bring back the days where the males had harems.” One male, with lots of females bonded to him and competing for his attention.

  Flynn raised his eyebrows. “And you all went along with that?”

  Yeah. Said the lion. “Don’t lion prides do the same?” she asked.

  The corner of his mouth lifted. “Some,” he said. He gestured toward his empty bedroom. “My fated harem clearly hasn’t gotten their memo, though.”