Brooke, Leah - Panthers' Prey [Black Panthers 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (40 page)

Thankful that she wore all black, she ducked lower and moved cautiously to the other side, listening carefully for the sound of the third man, the one with the broken arm.

“Where are you, Lou?”

Bailey spun in that direction, realizing the one with the broken arm hadn’t moved at all, which left a gap between him and the man in white.

“Shut up, you fucking moron! Close in on her.”

Making as little noise as possible, Bailey stepped backward, forcing herself to take one slow step at a time, moving out of the circle they’d formed. With each step, she braced herself, ready to make a run for it if she happened to bump into one of them.

“Sorry, Lou. Where are you, Jeff?”

Elated to realize that she’d managed to get behind them, Bailey kept backing away, glancing toward the bar and weighing her chances of crossing the yard to get back there.

“Making sure she doesn’t try to make a break for the bar. You hear that, slut? There’s no way out except through us.”

Finding herself backed against a tree, she paused, trying to make out the form of the man in the white shirt, the one the other had called Jeff.

Suddenly, the back door of the bar flew open, the force of it slamming the door back against the wall. She would have known the outline of Marc and James anywhere, their tall frames filling the doorway a split second before they stepped to either side and disappeared.

The door suddenly slammed shut again, once again plunging the small yard behind her bar into complete darkness.

“Don’t say a word, Bailey. We know where you are.”

Relieved to hear the sound of Marc’s voice, Bailey hurried behind the closest tree, jumping and inadvertently crying out when fur brushed against her hand.

“She’s in the trees. Get her!”

From the other side, she felt another form against her legs and a tug as teeth sank into the hem of her shirt and pulled.

She heard an
oof
sound from the side, followed quickly by the sound of a body falling.

“One down. Two to go. Think you can fuck with our woman, do you?”

The sound of James’s voice made her realize that neither one of the panthers beside her could be Marc or James. She didn’t know who they were, probably Joe and Vincent, but she trusted them with her life.

If they hurt her, Marc and James would kill them.

She knew that with the same certainty that she knew her own name, the realization of her trust in Marc and James staggering her.

Bailey jumped at the sound of a gunshot, ducking instinctively.

The panthers closed in on both sides, shielding her body with theirs, the one at her side tugging again, growling in his throat. The other grabbed her by the sleeve and together they pulled her through the trees, not once letting her run into anything.

Their sure-footedness kept her moving through the dark woods at a fast pace, one she knew she never would have been able to achieve if she’d been on her own.

Before she knew it, they’d tucked her beside a large tree and released her.

The sounds of scuffle in the distance filled her with dread.

“Oh, my God. He’s got a gun. The last time, he shot James in the head. We have to go back there.”

“We’re going. You be still and stay right here.”

Recognizing Joe’s voice, she automatically reached out for him, startled when the skin she encountered changed back to fur beneath her hand. A second later, Joe and Vincent, as panthers, took off at breakneck speed, running in the direction they’d just come from.

She sank to her knees beside the tree, alarmed when she no longer heard anything.

“This is not happening.”

She jumped, gasping as the sound of another gunshot rang out, and then another.

Motionless, she listened for any sound that would give her a clue as to what had happened, but heard nothing. Hoping with each passing second that Marc or James, or even Joe or Vincent, would come back, she gripped the tree trunk and slowly came to her feet.

When several minutes went by and she heard nothing, she knew she couldn’t stand it any longer. With her nerves stretched to the breaking point, she ventured forward, nearly tripping over one of the large roots. Wiping her stinging eyes, she kept going, desperate to get to Marc and James.

Oh, God. If anything happened to them, she didn’t know what she would do. How could she have fallen so hard for them in such a short time?

They understood her. They accepted her for what she was.

As she accepted them.

Holy hell, she’d tied her fate to shape-shifters!

They’d somehow plowed through her defenses and stolen her heart, making her need them, for God’s sake. She sure as hell had no plans to lose them now.

Moving cautiously through the woods, she held out her arms, her breathing coming in sharp pants as she tried to find her way back to the bar.

She had to get to them. Nothing else mattered.

They’d been moving so fast, with lots of turns, but she thought she knew the general direction they’d come from.

As she made her way through the trees, it didn’t take long before she lost her sense of direction completely.

Looking up to the sky didn’t help. What little bit of sky she could see through the treetops had become dark with clouds, the impending storm blocking out the moon and the stars and leaving nothing but blackness.

Her breath caught, and she found herself blinking, the darkness as complete as if she’d had her eyes closed.

Trying to push back memories of the night she’d been attacked, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to ignore the cold.

Surely, Marc and James would find her. They said they could smell her, after all, and they’d found her that night in the woods when she’d been over a mile away.

She would wait for them. They’d be here before long and give her crap for moving.

She stopped again, listening intently for any sound that would tell her they were coming for her, holding on to a fairly large tree trunk and peeking around it in all directions.

She couldn’t believe it was so
dark
. And cold. Her thin sweater didn’t do much against the chill in the air, and her shivering got even worse.

The snap of a twig had her spinning around, her heart beating nearly out of her chest as she scanned the woods for any sign of movement.

Holding her breath, she waited for Marc or James to call out to her, but nothing happened. Biting her lip, she scanned the darkness, but couldn’t see a damned thing.

Suddenly, the beam of a flashlight appeared, a faint light pointed toward the ground, one that disappeared almost immediately.

Neither Marc nor James would have any need for a flashlight.

With slow, careful steps, she made her way around the tree, plastering her back to the other side. Her senses sharpened, the adrenaline and absolute darkness making her acutely aware of everything around her.

The urge to run grew strong, but remembering what happened the last time, she fought every instinct and forced herself to remain still.

Another twig snapped, this time a little closer than before.

Who the hell was out there?

Out of nowhere, she felt it.

A warm, strong essence seemed to wrap itself around her. Recognizing it immediately, she let it wash over her, her insides settling in slow increments.

She smiled in the darkness, absorbing the delicious feeling of having Marc and James close by. They approached from in front of her, not making a sound, while from behind, she still heard the occasional snap of twigs or the unmistakable sound of dry leaves crunching.

She didn’t understand how Marc and James could approach so silently, but it meant that the others could do so, too.

She didn’t know who approached from behind, but she knew it couldn’t be one of them. If she heard the unknown threat, they would, too.

Keeping her breathing slow and even, she listened for Marc and James, waiting expectantly for them to appear. She jumped at another noise from behind her, one that sounded as though someone had fallen.

Between one breath and the next, she found herself tugged against a hard chest, strong arms wrapping around her like steel bands and pulling her close.

James.

Relief had her slumping against him, holding on to him for several long seconds before grabbing him tightly, her fear for both of them making it hard to breathe.

“Thank God. Are you okay? I heard gunshots. Where’s Marc?”

She stilled when she heard the unmistakable sound of a fist connecting and a body falling.

James chuckled softly. “There he is.”

“Fuck. Freeze, damn it!”

Brown?

James stiffened, pulling her even closer.

Bailey poked her head out just in time to see the flashlight beam illuminate Officer Brown’s angry face.

Holding up a hand to shield his eyes, Brown used the other to reach for his gun.

“I wouldn’t, Brown.”

Marc’s deep voice came out of the darkness, cold and full of venom. “What the hell are you doing out here stalking Bailey?”

Brown stilled, moving his hand away from his gun. “I’m not stalking her! I swear, I ought to arrest you for hitting me. I got a call that there was trouble out here and came to check it out. Then I heard shots. Who the hell did you shoot?”

“I didn’t shoot anybody, but you’ve got those kids you let get away the other night lying over there waiting for you. They were the ones shooting.”

He grabbed the flashlight from Marc, but Bailey knew he’d been able to do so only because Marc allowed it.

“You’ve caused me nothing but trouble ever since I came to work in this town.”

Marc placed himself between Brown and where James kept her hidden.

“Funny, Brown. I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Chapter Seventeen

Bailey dropped facedown on the bed, crying out when a hand landed hard on her bottom.

“Hey!”

She spun in time to see Marc toss a handful of her socks into one of the cardboard boxes she hadn’t thrown away yet.

Sitting up, she watched them toss her clothes into the boxes she’d finally managed to empty.

“What are you doing?”

James came out of her small closet with the meager contents and tossed them into a box.

“Brown’s up to something, and he was in a hell of a hurry to get rid of us. He didn’t ask enough questions and seemed really pissed once he found out the identities of the men we’d tied up.”

The urgency in his tone and in their hurried packing had a surge of adrenaline rushing through her veins.

“What do you think he’s up to? What are you going to do?”

Marc lifted a box onto his shoulder and grabbed another.