Brooke, Leah - Panthers' Prey [Black Panthers 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (43 page)

“It sure as hell is. I think you sucked all the life out of me.”

Not about to be undone, Bailey laughed softly and turned to lie across his chest, moaning at the slight tenderness in her bottom.

Snuggling against him, she pushed into the warm hand James had on her back and bent to run her tongue over Marc’s nipple. Grinning when Marc looked down in surprise and narrowed his eyes at her, she licked it again.

“Not yet, I haven’t, but it’s on the agenda.”

Chapter Eighteen

Sitting on the deck of Marc’s house—her new home now—Bailey sipped her beer, raising a brow at the rapid dialog of raised voices from inside. When the conversation went low again, she inwardly shrugged and came to her feet.

Since Joe had left a little over an hour ago to join Leland, the men had sat talking about what they’d discovered while searching the woods.

Although they’d made it clear she was welcome to stay, she’d been shaken and needed some air.

They’d called her
family
.

With a sigh, she took another sip of her beer and sat staring down at the beer bottle.

Still trembling from Marc’s lovemaking and struggling to come to grips with all that had happened, she’d wanted to be alone.

Marc’s attentiveness as he showered with her and his careful attention to rebandaging her shoulder, and James’s concern as he checked it, made her feel soft and mushy inside, and she’d just wanted to get away.

She still couldn’t believe she’d fallen in love and that Marc and James loved her back.

Her!

Bailey Knox.

Born on the wrong side of the tracks. Daughter of a drug addict and, according to one of her foster mothers, a prostitute.

Loved by a world-famous sculptor and a…what?

What the hell did James do for a living anyway?

Mentally shrugging, she reminded herself to ask him the first chance she got.

Now, apparently, she’d have plenty of time to ask.

Shaking her head again, she couldn’t prevent a small smile.

She’d never expected to have love in her life. She’d been honest with Marc and James about that. She simply didn’t know how. She’d probably blow it, and they’d both end up hating her.

She’d never even considered herself loveable, and the fact that both Marc and James seemed to think she was still amazed her.

They were certainly a different breed than any other men she’d ever met.

Laughing to herself at her own joke, she made her way to the railing.

Shape-shifters.

God help her.

Looking out over the yard, she saw with no small amount of satisfaction that the sun had started to set, inching behind the snow-covered mountains.

Shivering against the chill, she pulled her jacket more tightly around her. Still chilled, she set her beer on the railing to stick her hands in her pockets to get them warm, not ready yet to go in.

She loved looking out at the mountains, and loved the peace and quiet she found here, surprised to find how much it soothed her.

Fingering her grandmother’s necklace, she leaned against the railing, smiling to herself at the memory of the way Marc and James had taken her in this spot the morning they’d found her looking for her beloved jewelry.

The morning they’d told her the incredible truth about themselves.

Rolling her shoulder, she straightened, turning slightly to watch the men inside.

Marc and James talked animatedly with the others, Marc shaking his head emphatically while James jumped to his feet and began pacing.

She stiffened at the anger that washed over her, along with a jittery nervous feeling that she had no reason to be feeling.

It had to be what they felt.

Wondering if she’d ever get used to that aspect of their relationship, Bailey rolled her shoulder again and stretched, trying to get rid of her unease and working out some of the kinks from her earlier romp with Marc.

When the sensation didn’t go away, she decided to see if a little distance would work. Making her way to the railing stairs, she looked back again to see that the men all looked upset and worried.

She didn’t even want to consider that it might have something to do with her. If Marc and James regretted telling her that they loved her, she’d deal with it.

Later.

Walking across the yard, she glanced at the trees, shivering again. She hated being afraid of anything, but couldn’t help but admit that the woods behind her new home scared the hell out of her.

Uneasy, she kept her distance from them, wondering what Marc and James would think of her if they knew how scared she was of a place her lovers called home.

Glancing at the trees again, she saw that they seemed much darker now than they had just a few minutes ago. The sun had gone down almost completely, and she sure as hell didn’t want to be caught out here in the dark.

She turned to go, pausing when she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

Staring into the semidarkness, she stood motionless, waiting to see if she saw it again. Just when she’d given up and thought she’d imagined it, she saw it again.

A faint flicker of light in the distance, gone almost as soon as it appeared.

Tensing, Bailey glanced toward the house, a little unnerved that she’d walked farther than she’d thought.

She considered calling out for the men, but didn’t want to alarm them for something that might have been nothing at all.

Then she saw it again. This time it moved.

She took a step backward, inwardly wincing at her own cowardness.

The most dangerous things that roamed the dark woods sat in the family room right now talking.

Lifting her chin, she started into the woods, wishing she’d brought a flashlight. Making as little noise as possible, she proceeded cautiously, checking behind herself often to make sure she could still see her way out.

She’d be mortified if she got lost and the men had to come find her.

“The price goes up ten percent next time. It’s getting too dangerous to keep meeting out here. Since you can’t keep people out of here, we’re going to have to find another spot.”

Stunned, Bailey stood perfectly still, straining her eyes to see the man who’d just spoken, listening intently as another voice came from just off to her right, not more than twenty feet in front of her.

“It’s not my fault! What the fuck do you expect me to do? I thought spreading rumors about panther sightings would keep people the hell out of here. Your guys have been the ones causing all the fucking trouble. Why the hell do they give a shit about that bar anyway? Now I’ve got Brown up my ass trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.”

Bailey blinked as she recognized the voice.

Officer Cannon.

She heard the rustle of something before the other man, now much closer, cursed.

“You really are stupid, aren’t you? The Captain’s Den backs up to the woods and Duke’s doesn’t. We tried to get Billy Davis to sell to us, and then part of these woods would be ours. We could fence it in and there wouldn’t be any fucking trespassers trying to mess in our business!”

“That Knox woman is becoming a pain in the ass, but it was your guy who chased her into the woods in the first place. Why the hell didn’t he just leave her alone? Or, better yet, help her fix her tire and let her be on her way?”

“He knew who she was. Since you were kind enough to get us her license plate number and we knew where she was coming from, he thought it was a lucky break when he saw her. If he’d managed to kill her before she came to town, Duke could have taken over the bar himself and nobody would have been the wiser.”

“Guess your man fucked up.”

“Yeah, well, I guess those rumors you started about panthers weren’t rumors after all. Now you’ve got Brown all worked up.”

“He thinks Brand is doing something suspicious out here, but he can’t figure out what. He doesn’t believe the rumors of panther sightings, and figures Brand denies seeing them because he’s the one who made them up to keep people out of here, but doesn’t want to cast suspicion on himself.”

“Good. Let him keep looking at Brand. We need to get him, his friend, and that pain in the ass woman of theirs out of the way. Did you hear something?”

Bailey held her breath as both flashlights came on, the twin beams of light arcing in her direction.

“Who’s out there?”

The voice of the other man sounded very much like the man who’d had the gun that night behind her bar. Afraid that he had one now, Bailey ducked behind the nearest tree, biting back a curse when she tripped over one of the large roots and fell, landing hard on her hip.

“Did you hear that? Someone’s out there.”

The panic in Cannon’s voice had Bailey scrambling to hide, once again reliving the night the other man had attacked her. Glancing toward the house where warm light shone from the windows, she wondered if the men would hear her if she screamed.

Even if they heard her, would they get to her in time?

She couldn’t take a chance, not with Cannon and the other man getting closer by the second.

She looked around for a place to hide, but knew that as soon as she came out from behind the tree, she’d be caught in their flashlight beams.

She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Wishing for her bat, she looked around and found the next best thing.

Bending low, she reached out and curled her fingers around the dead branch lying at her feet.

About four feet long and two inches in diameter, the hard piece of wood felt good in her hand.

More confident now, she slowly rose to her feet, bracing herself against the back of the tree. Thankful for the thick jacket that kept the rough bark from rubbing against her injured shoulder, she plastered herself against the side of the tree, trying to make herself as small as possible.

Her eyes kept going to the house, searching for any kind of movement, but seeing none.

She wished she’d never left the damned deck.

Alarmed that she could no longer see the flashlight beams, it alarmed her even more when she realized she could no longer hear either man approach.

Even though her pulse raced, she tried to control her breathing, concentrating on any sound that would tell her the men’s location.

Holding the stick in both hands, she planted her feet, her breathing becoming ragged as her nerves stretched to the breaking point.

Suddenly, she realized that her senses had grown sharper.

She would swear she could feel the night—the air, the scents, even the presence of the men who steadily closed in on her.

The snap of a twig..

A crunch of leaves.

The brush of clothing.

The sounds came from one side and then the other, each one making her jump.

The man on her right, the man who’d shot James, was closer.