Page 12 of Bad Blood Panther

Tank said, “Lissa—”

“I’m not done,” the bear-woman snapped, talking over them both. She was tiny, but she had a big presence. Her eyes had started glowing gold with a hint of red, and Jenny could almost see sparks coming out of her curly hair. “He got captured by shifter hunters, because he couldn’t fit in with a crew and he couldn’t take care of himself. They put him in a lab and they tortured him for months. Months!”

Jenny put a hand to her mouth. Oh, God. She’d heard rumors—everybody had. About the Bad Bloods and Alexander Grant, and his secret lab. But she’d hoped so hard they weren’t true…

Lissa said, “They broke his mind and drove his cat even crazier. If they hadn’t escaped when they did—if Flynn and Tank hadn’t been able to deal with him and the others—he’d be dead by now. And now you come waltzing in here upsetting him and asking for help, like he fucking owes you anything!”

Jenny wanted to protest. It wasn’t her fault, what Cindi did. She never wanted it to happen.

But Lissa was right. She should have done more. They all should have done more. She put the heels of her hands to her eyes. She would not cry in front of these strangers.

“I couldn’t stop it,” she whispered. “I…cared about Alex. Xander. I tried to help, but I couldn’t. He ran away, and I couldn’t find him.”

Xander clawed at the inside of the door. His yowling had turned piteous and heartbreaking, like a cat who had lost its entire clan.

Flynn winced. “Jesus,” he said. “I’ve never heard him sound like that.” He turned to Jenny. “I think you’re going to have to leave. If you keep setting him off like this…”

“You should just go,” Tank agreed.

“Maybe not.” That was the blond man who’d driven her car back—after checking it for transmitters and tracking devices. Sloan.

Everyone turned and stared at him. He wasn’t as dominant as the others, but it seemed that they listened to him. He gestured to Jenny. “Try to talk to him. Through the door.”

His eyes were pale gray like rainwater, and he looked at her oddly. As if he could see through her, all the way deep inside to the feelings she’d locked away in her heart.

“Go ahead,” he said to her.

Jenny glanced at Flynn. He huffed a sigh and gave a resigned shrug. “We can trank him one more time, I guess. If we have to.”

Jenny walked over to the door. She really didn’t think this was going to help. She’d loved Xander, back when he was Alex, but he’d never loved her.

She put her hands flat on the door, as if she could touch him through it, and tried to pull up her buried memories and feelings. He threw himself at the door again, giving that piteous howl, and her heart clenched painfully.

He was so angry. So lost. Was there any way he could ever find himself again?

“Xander?” she called. “Xander, it’s me. Jenny.”

He went quiet, and she could feel his weight pressing against the door. He yowled again, but not as loud.

She had no idea what to say. “Xander, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re all here.” She made a soft, comforting cat noise, like she did for Brandon when he was upset to the point of losing it. Xander’s panther keened softly.

God, he even sounded like Brandon. So emotional, longing desperately for love and affection and approval, as if he’d been born with a hole in his heart that nothing would completely fill.

She was overwhelmed by a tide of emotions. She had to stop this. He was hurting, hurting, and he was her heart and she couldn’t let him hurt. She had to fill the hole with her love, make him see he was never alone. Everything else went out of her mind.

“Open the door,” she said to Flynn. “Please, open it.”

Xander keened again. He wasn’t throwing himself at the door anymore.

Flynn and Tank exchanged glances, and Flynn gave a helpless shrug, as if to say “this is a really bad idea, but okay.”

Flynn gave his little trank gun to Sloan and leaned against the door, moving Jenny aside. Sloan unlocked the padlock and stood ready with the gun. Tank waited beside him, armed with nothing but his huge muscles.

Jenny waited, heart in her throat.

“One, two, three.”

Flynn took his weight off the door and yanked it open.

Xander leaped forward and Tank caught him in a bear hug, barely staggering backwards. Jenny couldn’t imagine how strong he must be, to withstand that force.

Xander’s eyes were fixed on Jenny, and he struggled to get to her, still making that painful noise. Tank held his jaws closed with one hand, so she could approach. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he muttered. Blood dripped from a dozen scratches on his arms.

Jenny had no idea what she was doing, but she had to do something. She moved in next to Tank and put her hand on the panther’s head. “Shh,” she said, stroking down his neck. “Shh. You’re all right. I’m here. We’re all here.”

Xander’s keening softened at her touch, and he finally went quiet. Bit by bit, his muscles relaxed. A hint of a rumbly purr started in his chest.

Cautiously, Tank moved into the shed. Jenny went with him, keeping her hand on Xander. Tank let Xander down, poised to grab him again if he attacked.

Xander ignored Tank, butting his head up against Jenny’s thigh. She sank to her knees in the straw, stroking his fur, letting him rub his face against hers. He was purring loudly now.

She wanted to cry. He was so beautiful, so strong and sleek, and so damaged. What had they done to him?

The rest of the crew gathered around the door. “Holy hell,” Brody said. “She’s like the panther whisperer.”

“No,” Sloan said quietly behind her. “She’s his mate.”