Page 10 of Bad Blood Panther

Chapter 5

Jenny sat next to Xander in the back seat of Flynn’s truck, trying not to hyperventilate. Flynn had wanted her to sit up front where he could “keep an eye on her,” but she’d refused. Which had taken all her courage and made her want to throw up, he was so dominant and scary.

Scarier than Alton, even. Although she supposed that was a good thing, in case Flynn decided to protect her from Alton instead of, for instance, tearing her limbs off her body just for the exercise.

But if she’d had to sit next to him the whole way back to his territory, she was pretty sure she would have vomited from anxiety, and then he’d have probably shoved her out of the truck without even slowing it down.

He’d agreed to let her sit in the back, but warned Tank to “keep her covered.” Like she was some kind of ninja assassin who was going to attack Xander—or him—while he was driving.

Instead of the wussy panther she actually was.

Xander wasn’t comforting at all. He stared straight ahead, as if lost in thought. She hadn’t exactly been expecting fond reminiscences, but she hadn’t expected him to ignore her completely, either.

She should never have come here. It was a huge mistake, and she was probably going to disappear and no one would ever know what happened to her.

As if he’d heard her thoughts, Xander reached over and touched her on the arm. Not in a comforting way, though. More like…an experiment.

Oddly, that one touch made her panic disappear. He frowned, as if trying to figure something out. He lifted his hand for a moment, and then rested it on her arm again.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He just shook his head without saying anything, and went back to staring in front of him again, his hand back in his lap.

That bit of weirdness should have made her panic even more, but irrationally, it made her feel just a little bit better.

They drove about ten or fifteen minutes, and then turned onto a bumpy dirt road that ran through thick woods. It was pitch dark, no lights, and the road was barely wide enough for two cars to pass.

Xander was breathing more heavily now, clenching and unclenching his fists. He glanced over at her a few times, but he didn’t say anything.

Jenny got more and more nervous as they drove. At one point, she felt a tingling on her skin, as if she’d passed through a cool sheet of water. Nobody else gave any indication that anything weird had happened, except that Flynn’s shoulders relaxed a tiny bit.

Whoa, wait. She knew that feeling. That was a magical ward they’d just passed through. Did the Bad Blood Crew have magical territory boundaries? Usually only powerful wolf packs had those.

Okay, then, that was another thing about Flynn that was good and yet also terrifying. Terrifying because he was even more powerful than she’d realized. And good because…well, because he was more powerful than she’d realized.

She began to hope that this really might be a safe place to bring Brandon. If they didn’t kill her painfully and devour the pieces.

A few minutes after they crossed the boundary, Jenny saw lights through the woods, and after another minute they pulled into a large clearing. She gave a tiny gasp.

She’d been unconsciously expecting some kind of militia encampment with bunkers. What she saw was a beautiful log cabin with a soaring roofline, a wraparound porch, and a crap-ton of windows. Outside was a sunken stone patio with a fire pit and a top-of-the line outdoor kitchen and barbecue area.

There were other lights shining through the trees, and she could see glimpses of homey cabins and trailers, the paths leading to them lined with strings of white lights. Around the perimeter of the clearing were a handful of utility sheds.

But the main cabin kept drawing Jenny’s eyes. It was gorgeous—the kind of place she’d always wanted to live in.

She didn’t get much time to admire it.

Before the truck had hardly stopped, Xander opened his door and tumbled out, landing in a crouch on the ground.

Oh, no. He looked like he was losing control of his animal. Jenny slid across the seat to the open door, kneeling on the seat.

“Al—Xander? Are you okay?”

He was growling and muttering, as if his cat had taken over his brain without him changing forms. “Fuck run kill die love why gone hate pain hurt love stop stop make it stop go stay go…”

This insane litany was punctuated by low growls and feral snarls.

Oh, Alex. A cold stab of pity and fear laced through her. He’d never mastered his animal. He really was crazy.