Page 7 of Bad Blood Panther

She wanted to. But she had to be brave. “Then how does anybody get ahold of them?”

“Who would want to?” the bear said.

“Forget them crazy-ass mutants,” put in the nacho thief. “Come on with us, baby. We can all have ourselves a little par-tay in the back of my truck.”

Did he say all? Oh, hell no.

“No thanks,” she said, trying to catch the bartender’s eye. He ignored her.

The bear and the nacho thief each took one of her arms. “Come on, babe,” the bear said. To his friend, he added, “We can take her out the back, by the bathrooms.”

What?

Jenny panicked, her claws coming out. “Let go of me, you asshole.” She grabbed onto the barstool with one hand. With the other, she clawed at the bear, getting him in the thigh.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling on her arm.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled, but no one was paying attention.

“Pitcher’s empty,” Xander said, pouring the last of the beer. “Whose turn is it to buy?”

Lissa rolled her eyes. “Yours, asshole,” she said.

“I’m stuck here in the corner,” he complained. As he always did. He really didn’t mind buying the beer, but it was against his principles to be too cooperative. “Can’t get out.”

“Cry me a river,” Lissa said. “I think we can make room.”

Tank obligingly moved his chair out of the way so Xander could get out and buy beer. He gathered up the empty pitchers and meandered up to the bar, pulling out his wallet to see how much cash he had. It took him a second to notice the two guys trying to drag a girl off her barstool.

“Leave me alone!” she yelled.

Xander’s cat woke up and growled. Without stopping to think, he lunged forward and smacked the nearest assailant on the head with his mostly-empty pitchers. “Cut that out, fucker.”

The guy jerked away, and beer dregs sloshed down his neck. He gave a roar.

Fuck. Bear. Probably a grizzly.

The guy swung around, his eyes going feral. The other one snarled as well.

Double fuck. Much as Xander enjoyed a good fight, he did not want this to escalate. His cat was clawing at his insides, and it was going to get ugly fast. “Tank!” he called. “Little help here!”

The offensive woman-assaulting bear smacked at Xander with a half-changed paw. Xander jumped out of the way, knowing what those claws could do. He lost his balance and tumbled back, taking out a couple of bystanders as he continued the roll backwards and came up into a crouch.

Danger! Help! Bad help love fuck hold kill die run…

Shit. Xander stayed crouched on the floor, eyes squeezed shut, hands locked around his head. Don’t Change. Don’t go crazy. Don’t kill anyone. Shit, shit, shit…

Vaguely, he could hear the rumble of Tank’s voice, and then Brody’s, talking everybody down. Tank was big enough and dominant enough to stop a little spat like this in its tracks. They were fine. Flynn wouldn’t even have to get out of his chair.

And if he did have to, Flynn was dominant enough to flatten half the bar, if he wanted.

Except for Xander. When Xander’s cat really went, it couldn’t even hear Flynn.

He felt the change in tension as the fight was averted. Then he heard light steps approaching, and a delicious and somehow familiar scent hit him.

Bad love mate help fuck kill die run run run…

“I think he’s hurt,” a woman’s voice said. Familiar. Not crew. Why was it familiar? His cat was yowling so loud he couldn’t think.

“Are you all right?”

She touched his shoulder, and his cat’s voice disappeared. Everything went still.

He looked up into a pair of deep, midnight blue eyes framed by long sooty lashes. They widened in shock. “Alex?” she said.

“Holy fuck,” he said. “Jenny?”