Brooke, Leah - Panthers' Prey [Black Panthers 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (35 page)

Fear nearly choked her, the thought of never having James’s strong arms around her again too unbearable to contemplate.

She didn’t even bother to put on shoes, just choked back a sob of panic, grabbed the bat she kept by the bedroom door, and raced down the short hallway to the front door. Finding it already open, she started down the steps just in time to hear angry shouts. Pausing, she looked around, not seeing anyone, but she could tell by the direction of the yelling that everyone had gone around back.

Furious that these assholes thought they could intimidate her into leaving her bar, she raced down the steps and around the corner of the building, just as a shot rang out.

Terrified for James, Bailey froze, almost stumbling. Staring in horror, she watched James grab his head and fall to the ground. Rage and horror gave her a strength and courage she never knew she possessed.

She screamed and raced toward them, her only thought that of getting between them and James to protect him, terrified that it was already too late. Knowing she needed to get help for him as soon as possible, she leapt over him and swung her bat, hitting the man with the broken arm first.

He fell back, screaming. “You fucking bitch!”

The one with the gun lifted it from where he aimed it at James and turned it on her.

With a scream, she swung her bat toward him, knowing she only had one chance to knock the gun from his hand before he shot her. The horror of her attack that night in the woods came rushing back, only this time, James’s life was in danger, too.

James!

Putting her entire body into it, she swung the bat, expecting to be stopped short when she hit his arm, but it didn’t happen that way.

With a snarl, he moved at the last second and the momentum of her swung spun her around too far.

Furious and terrified that she’d missed, she screamed and rushed to stop her momentum to swing again the other way. Her movements seemed far too slow as she took a step to the side, placing herself in front of the gun he had pointed at James. Bracing for the pain of being shot, she sucked in a breath and started to swing the other way.

Suddenly, she found her legs knocked out from under her, and cried out as the bat was yanked from her hands. Instinctively, she reached out to break her fall, her mind screaming at her to hurry. Ready to jump up again, she started to roll, only to find herself caught and pinned to the ground.

“Stay still, damn it.”

Stunned that the deep, growling voice above her belonged to James, she panicked and rushed to push him to his back, to protect him from being shot again, but couldn’t roll him, his strength keeping her in place as he kept her body under his. Not knowing where he’d been shot, she wrapped her arms around him and used her legs for leverage to try again, desperate, choked cries erupting one after the other.

A deep, deadly growl came from behind him, freezing her in place. It sounded like the hounds of hell, the threat in it absolutely terrifying. She couldn’t hold back a gasp as a streak of black soared over James’s back a split second before his shoulder blocked her vision. Unable to see anything except the stars through his dark curtain of hair, she shoved against him.

Another shot rang out, and then another. More growls and screams followed, and then the sounds of running.

Her struggles with James proved futile. She couldn’t move him at all, every inch of her body covered by his.

She ran her hands all around him, searching for blood and at the same time trying to push him off of her so she could protect him.

“James. Let me up. Let me help you. Damn it. You’ve been shot!”

He cursed and came to his feet, lifting her about a foot off the ground and tossing her onto the sleek black panther apparently waiting for her. A glance toward the trees showed the men running in their direction, the one with the gun leading the way.

“Hang on, Bailey!”

At James’s hoarse shout, she automatically dug her fingers into soft fur, holding on for dear life as Marc raced through the woods. She glanced behind her, horrified to see James running toward them, still in human form.

“No! James! Marc, help him.” Before she could finish, James became a black panther before her eyes and raced to join them.

It had all happened so fast she drew on instinct and held on, keeping as low as possible.

She glanced back again just in time to see the men behind them entering the woods, sucking in a breath as the one with the gun lifted it and fired.

Sirens sounded in the distance, and she turned again to see the men trying to follow, but they got smaller and finally disappeared as Marc and James raced through the woods, weaving in and out of trees with remarkable ease, their pace never faltering.

Her hand slipped and she grabbed again at Marc’s fur, but her shoulder burned and her hand went numb and didn’t seem to be cooperating.

Struggling to hold on, she tightened her knees on him. In a remarkably short period of time, they broke through the trees behind Marc’s house and covered the distance to the back deck.

As soon as they climbed the stairs, Marc shifted back to human form, turning and catching her against him. Burying his face in her throat, he tightened his arms around her and pulled her close.

“Oh, God. Shh. Be still. Just let me hold you.”

Breathing in the scent of him, the scent of male and woods, and warmed by the heat of his naked body, she turned her head to look for James.

“James! Oh, Marc. They shot him.”

Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she pushed against his chest and scrambled out of his arms and toward James, who now sat naked in one of the deck chairs, holding his head.

Rushing over, she knelt in front of him, sucking in a breath at the trail of blood coming from his temple.

“Oh, God, James. You’re hurt. He shot you in the head. We’ve got to get you to a hospital.” She looked up as Marc cursed and hurried over, tilting his friend’s head back. “Marc, do something.”

Marc cursed violently, the thread of fear evident. “James, what the fuck? Damn it, if you fucking die on me, I’m going to kill you.”

Pushing the fear back, she inspected James’s forehead with Marc, using the sleeve of her black sweatshirt to dab away most of the blood. “We’ve got to get him to the hospital. Look at all the blood.”

Pushing Marc’s hand away, James reached for her.

“I’m okay. He just grazed me. Come here.”

Marc held his hand out, preventing James from taking her into his arms. Gripping his arms, he lifted an equally naked James to his feet, steadying him when he swayed.

“Let’s get you inside so I can take a look at that. It’s a wonder you haven’t passed out. That must hurt like a bitch.”

He half carried James into the house and eased him into a kitchen chair.

“Bailey, there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom closet. Get it for me.”

Rushing to do his bidding, Bailey rolled the shoulder she’d pulled, biting her lip to hold back a cry of pain, and hurried to the bathroom. Finding the box on the shelf in the closet, she grabbed it and raced back to the kitchen.

Her hands shook so badly that when she opened it, half the contents spilled out onto the kitchen floor.

James reached for her hand before she could clean it up.

“Calm down, Bailey. Christ, you’re as white as a sheet.”

Marc tossed everything back into the kit and rummaged through it for a bottle and some prepackaged gauze.

James closed his fingers around hers and squeezed, his pain-filled smile bringing a lump to her throat. “Easy, baby. I’m not going anywhere, especially now that I’ve found my mate.”

He winked and grinned, grimacing when Marc started to wipe the blood away with the gauze.

Bailey shuddered, swearing she could feel his pain.

“Damn it, James. You need to go to the hospital.”

“No.” Reaching out to cup her cheek, he winced when Marc dabbed gauze drenched with something against his head and held it there.

“We can’t explain how we were there and then two panthers were. We have to be here, and when the police come, tell them we were here all night.”

Laying her hand on his chest, she looked up at Marc.

“Marc, tell him. Make him go to the hospital.”

Marc and James shared a look before Marc resumed cleaning James’s wound.

“He’s right. There’s no way to explain away the panthers they saw. What the hell were they doing there?”

James nodded and winced again. “Hopefully, they took off and no explanation will be necessary, but if they got caught and started talking…”

Bailey laid her hand on his chest. “But you need—”

“No, Bailey.” He pushed Marc’s hand away and glanced down at himself, frowning at the blood on his chest. “Where the hell did this come from? I feel another kind of pain. Not mine. What the hell?”

Marc paused and cursed, checking for another injury. “I’m hurting, too, and I wasn’t even shot. Now that we share Bailey, maybe we feel each other’s pain.”

Bailey snatched her hand away and held up her sleeve, the black material making it impossible to see the blood. “Sorry, I wiped your forehead with my sleeve.”

Marc blew out a breath, his relief evident. “Okay. As long as you’re not hurt.” He bandaged James’s head, his hands steady, but his eyes filled with concern.

Not wanting to bother him about pulling her shoulder, she nodded. A hot shower would take care of it anyway.

Marc finished up and sighed.

“You got lucky. Hell, he could have blown your fucking brains out. What the hell happened? Tell me on the way to the shower. You’ve got to get cleaned up before the cops get here.”

With a wave, James headed toward the back of the house while Marc cleaned up the supplies and closed the box.

Marc watched as James staggered through the doorway and pointed after him, the concern in his eyes still evident.

“Go with him. I’ll be there in a minute in case he gets dizzy.”

Bailey nodded and started after James, scared now that he would fall and hurt himself even more. Pausing at the doorway, she took a shuddering breath, shocked at the tears that stung her eyes, and had to swallow the lump in her throat before speaking.

“Marc?”

He turned with a bottle of aspirin in his hand, his expression grim, his eyes shuttered.

“What is it, Bailey?”

She took another breath and blew it out slowly, alarmed when even more tears fell. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come along. I thought for sure they were going to kill him. I can’t believe it. You’re really shape-shifters.”

She couldn’t hide the emotion in her voice—didn’t even try. She loved James and somehow had to figure out a way to make a life with him. Thinking him dead had been like a knife to her heart, making her realize just how much she loved him.

He’d been right all along. She had already accepted him as her mate. Now, she just had to come to terms with it.

Something flashed in Marc’s eyes, but disappeared before she could interpret it. “You’re welcome.” He handed her the bottle. “Go look after James. I’ll be there in a minute.”

She started out of the room again, anxious to get to James, but turned back. She couldn’t get the image of Marc leaping between her and the man with the gun. Her fear that he would be shot had frozen her in place and the anguish that she would lose both of them was a blow to her that staggered her.