Page 16 of Bad Blood Panther

He lifted her wrist to his lips and kissed the half-healed gouges. “To make it better,” he said.

Their eyes locked, and once again time stood still. Jenny didn’t know what to say or do, only that she didn’t want him to let go of her.

“You should get a shower,” he said finally, stepping back and dropping her hand. “Flynn’s making pancakes up in the main cabin. You haven’t fucking lived until you’ve eaten Flynn’s pancakes. It was almost worth becoming a shifter, just for that.”

He headed for the door. “Bathroom’s down past the kitchen. I think I might have a clean towel, but don’t get excited until I’m sure.”

He stopped at the doorway and turned back, his eyes dark and troubled. “Look, you should know right now. I’m not a good guy. Everything that happened, it changed me. I hate everything, and I offend everybody and piss them off, and I like doing it. You said you needed help, and I’ll try to help you. But don’t expect a lot from me. You’ll just be disappointed.”

While Jenny was in the shower, Xander wandered out onto the porch. There was something dead under the spare room window.

Xander went over and stared at it, his eyes narrowed. “Sloan!” he bellowed. “Sloan!”

It took a couple minutes, but finally Sloan stumbled out of his trailer, wearing nothing but boxers and shielding his eyes against the sun.

“What?” he said, looking around for threats. “You okay?”

“What the fuck is a chewed-up dead rabbit doing on my porch?”

“Seriously? You pulled me away from morning sex for this?” Sloan blew out a sigh. “You put it there, dickhead.”

He did? No.

“I did not,” Xander said. “For one thing, why would I prank myself? And for two things, I would have at least put glitter on it.”

Sloan had managed to pry his eyes all the way open, and was now looking at Xander in a weirdness-inducing way.

“Your panther did it,” he said. “At zero-fucking-dark-thirty this morning, FYI. Yes, since you ask, I was up, making sure you didn’t murder anyone. And you’re welcome.”

“Thanks,” Xander said absently. He knelt down and studied the rabbit. It was right under Jenny’s window. He remembered…he remembered his panther wanting to give her something. Wanting to please her, make her happy.

He rose slowly and looked at Sloan, bits and pieces of memory from the night before swirling in his mind, making a picture he didn’t want to see. “Why would my panther do that?” he asked. His throat was so tight he could barely get the words out.

Sloan came over and stood below on the ground, rubbing his fingers on the porch railing, rolling a splinter between his fingers. “It’s a mating ritual,” he said finally. “Your panther…”

The silence stretched out.

“Wants her for a mate,” Xander finished in a whisper. Fuck. Oh, fuck.

Sloan nodded. “Looks like.” He looked up at Xander. “Is she the one?”

Xander leaned against the wall, his knees almost buckling. For months, ever since the other Bad Bloods had started finding mates, his cat had been yammering on about how they’d had a mate, but they lost her.

He hadn’t listened. He’d thought the damn panther meant Cindi, and he’d shut that shit down, marked it “Biohazard,” and locked it away in one of those places in his head he never intended to go again.

But Jenny…

Shit.

“I need some glitter,” he said abruptly. “Go back to your orgasm. Give Caitlyn an extra one from me.”

He started back into the house.

“You okay?” Sloan asked, clearly worried.

“Nope,” Xander called back. “But then, when am I ever?”