Page 43 of Bad Blood Panther

Chapter 16

Afterward they lay on the lounger, talking. Xander ran his finger lightly over the scar across her left cheek, and kissed it.

“Why do you always do that?” Jenny asked drowsily.

“Because you think it’s ugly,” he said. “I’m trying to find out how many times I have to kiss it, to make you think it’s pretty.”

“It’ll never be pretty,” she said.

“You are, though,” he said. “With or without it. You’re beautiful.”

That made her heart turn to moosh. How did he keep making her fall so hard for him, over and over?

He added, “I don’t know everything that’s going to happen with us. And I suck at being a good…well, anything.” He kissed her scar again. “But I still want to try to be a good mate to you, like I said. I want to talk to Flynn about you officially joining the Bad Blood Crew. If you want.”

Oh, God. She so wanted that. But she couldn’t let him talk to Flynn without knowing about Brandon. “Xander,” she started, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What?” He propped his elbow on the bed and rested his head in his hand. “You can tell me anything.”

Somewhere on the floor, Xander’s phone rang—the opening tribal call to the Lion King. Xander rolled over, groping for it.

Dammit. She needed to get this out, now. She’d waited too long as it was.

“Let it go,” Jenny begged.

Xander shook his head. “Can’t,” he said. “That’s Flynn. And he knows we’re having a special fuckapalooza here. He wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important.”

The call had gone to voice mail by the time he snagged his shorts and dug his phone out of the back pocket. He hit the button and called Flynn back, putting him on speaker.

“Incoming,” the alpha said. “Two, maybe three. Coming by the road.”

Damn, Jenny thought. Surely not Broken Hill. They’d come for her with more than two or three people.

“Hostile?” Xander said.

“Not friendly,” Flynn replied. “Grab a weapon, just in case.”

“Ten-four.” Xander began scrambling into his shorts.

“What’s going on?” Jenny asked. Not like she hadn’t heard everything he’d heard, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Not sure. Flynn can sense unfriendlies in our territory, and he says we have a couple on their way in. All hands on deck.” He stopped to give her a hard kiss. “You stay here,” he said. “Until we know who they are and what they want.” And then he was gone.

Through the gap in the tent flap, she saw him lean over the tiki bar and come up with a handgun. He stuck it into the back waistband of his shorts, and jogged for the main clearing.

Jenny sat for a moment, arms wrapped around her knees. Then she grabbed her clothes and started getting dressed.

Whoever was out there, she wasn’t hiding in the shadows anymore.

Xander hit the clearing just ahead of Sloan, who was carrying a rifle. He saw a flash of white wings as Caitlyn ghosted overhead in owl form. Flynn was on the front porch, leaning against the railing, but Xander could glimpse the AK-47 resting barrel-down by his right leg.

By the time the truck pulled into the clearing, Lissa had come up from her cabin, shotgun in hand. Xander could see Tank’s huge bulk in the woods, in bear form, circling around to block their exit if necessary.

Tank’s bear could upend a two-ton pickup singlehanded, if he got pissed off enough.

It was an unfamiliar truck—black crew cab, tinted windows, all jacked up. Flames were painted down the sides—the cheesy kind only a tiny-dicked self-important asshole would have on his ride. The hackles went up on Xander’s neck. He heard himself growling, and he didn’t even fucking know who was in the truck.

Or maybe he’d known the whole time. Because the passenger door opened, and a sexy blonde with big tits stepped out. She was fully made up, wearing a tight, short-skirted dress and stupid-ass stiletto heels that sank immediately into the damp earth. Wavy hair cascaded down one shoulder.