Shifter's Lady (5 page)

She smiled. “Of course. Tell me about the panthers. I have access to your encyclopedias and other reference texts, but I do have some questions. Are panthers the same as cougars?”

“The Florida panther is a subspecies of cougar that has adapted to the temperature here. We've fought our way back from extinction for the panthers, but there are still fewer than a hundred remaining.”

She turned her head to look at him. “But surely there are others elsewhere?”

A muscle tightened in his jaw. “A few in zoos. But the Florida panther is still one of the rarest and most endangered animals in the world. Unfortunately, developers don't care about that. Fortunately, on the other hand, we have Big Cypress. An adult male needs two hundred seventy-five miles of territory, but that can overlap with the females.”

Marie looked out the window, wondering why the subject of male territory was causing heat to rush into her cheeks again. “Females, plural, you said? And is that true of the male shape-shifter as well?”

“For some, it can be,” he said flatly. “I'm not one of them.”

Marie winced, remembering what Bastien had told her of Ethan's mate who'd been killed by the vampire. “I am sorry, Ethan. I was not thinking. My condolences on the loss of your mate.”

There was a long silence, then finally he spoke. “Yeah. Well. Fallon deserved better than what I had to offer her and certainly better than how she died.”

Marie caught a glimpse of something large and golden red moving through the trees as they passed. “What is that? Is that one of your panthers?”

Ethan whipped his head to the side and then yanked the steering wheel to pull the car to a sudden stop on the side of the road, knocking Marie forward against her seat belt.

“I'm sorry. Are you okay?” He leaned over and grasped her shoulders, raking her with that intense golden gaze.

“Yes, of course. But why have we stopped?”

“We're having a problem with someone or something attacking our panthers, and I'd like to check this one out. I'll just be a few minutes. Stay here with the doors locked,” he commanded.

His tone conveyed his expectation of perfect obedience, and for some reason it irritated her. “Fine. I'll stay here. But you might remember in the future that I am not a member of your pride, and my submission is not your right,” she snapped.

The edges of his lips quirked into a grin. “I'll be glad to submit to you, ocean girl. Just name the time and place.” Then he leaned into her and pressed a quick, hard kiss on her lips. “I'll be right back.”

In seconds he was gone, and Marie leaned back against her seat, pressing her fingers to her lips. She was, perhaps, in more trouble with this man than she'd realized.

She shook her head, suddenly remembering what he'd said. Lock the doors. She examined the side of the door, wondering which of the many buttons was the lock, but suddenly the door jerked open and a pair of denim-clad legs stood in front of her. Startled, she stared up and into the grim face and crazed eyes of a man who was very definitely not Ethan. “What—”

“Get out of the car,” he said, his quiet voice almost shockingly contrasting with his wild-eyed demeanor. “Now.”

“But—”

He leaned into the car, unfastened her seat belt and ripped it off of her, then grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled her out of the car. Marie fell hard onto the gravel road when her legs tangled as he pulled her off balance. The immediate sharp pain focused her thoughts and snapped her out of the dazed state of shock the man's presence had caused. She evaluated him carefully. Taller than her, he was all muscle. Not someone she could hope to overpower. Dark auburn hair twisted in unkempt strands down to his shoulders, and his oddly pale yellow eyes burned with hate or some other equally intense emotion.

And—for whatever reason—it was directed at her.

“I'm not playing with you,” he said, still in that calmly polite tone that was so at odds with the fury raging in his eyes. Then he fisted his hand in her hair and yanked her head up painfully. “Stand up now, or I'll kill you right there on your knees.”

Marie called on the Goddess for strength and courage and forced an expression of calm to match his to her features. “Of course,” she said, as she pushed up off the ground, ignoring the burning pain in her knees and hands where she'd scraped the skin off them. “Although I think perhaps you have the wrong—”

“Shut up.” He released her hair and lifted his hand, clenched into a fist. A hint of madness twisted his features into a caricature of their former calm. “I've never punched a woman in the face before, but I can make an exception for Ethan's newest whore. Are you the slut he turned to after he let my pride-sister die? Or were you fucking him while she was still alive?”

Marie blinked, completely lost. “What? I don't understand what you're talking about. I only met Ethan today, and—”

He smiled at her and shook his head. “Wrong answer,” he said, almost patronizingly. Then he pulled out the knife.

Ethan ran into the trees, following the strong scent of panther. More than one—some were shape-shifters. Maybe he'd finally catch them. He leaped into the air and shifted, landing on the ground on powerfully muscled panther legs. The scent immediately intensified, since his animal senses were far superior to his human ones. There were many of them, and they'd been
congregating in this area recently. The scent was different from that of his own pride, but familiar.

Maddeningly familiar. He stalked around the area, head down, trying to make sense of the myriad individual scents, when he heard a female scream from the direction he'd left Marie in the car.

Marie.

He snarled and raced back toward the car, feral thoughts of ripping his prey into shreds whirling in his mind. Rage nearly blinded him as he crashed through the brush with no thought of stealth.

If they'd hurt her, they would die.

He whipped through brush and bounded around trees faster than he'd ever moved before, heedless of the branches and thorns slicing grooves in his side through his thick fur. Throwing caution aside, he leapt through the grasses bordering the road and landed in front of the car, scanning the area as he did.

There were four of them. Three surrounded the car, while the fourth held Marie with an arm banded around her waist. He had a knife to her throat.

He had a
knife
to her
throat.

Ethan screamed with primal fury, his panther nearly insane with a murderous rage. But he stopped where he was when the bastard pressed the tip of the knife into Marie's tender flesh. Blood trickled down her neck, and Ethan swore he would exact vengeance upon them for every drop of it.

Every single drop.

The man holding her stared at Ethan and smiled. “Stay right where you are, Ethan. You wouldn't want my knife hand to get slippery and press harder into her neck, would you?”

Ethan snarled again but held his position. He was fast, but not fast enough to get to them before that knife would slice through Marie's carotid artery. She stared at him, fear and helpless anger on her face, and he wanted to kill them all for causing it. His panther wanted to rip their heads from their bodies and eat their hearts.

But then Marie would look at
him
with that same terrified expression.

He shunted the thought to the side. Focus. Get her to safety and then worry about the rest.

The man nodded. “Good boy. And I know it's you, so why
don't we dispense with the bullshit and you shift back into your human shape, Ethan. We have a little business to discuss.”

Ethan knew that what little advantage he held in panther form was destroyed by the point of that knife against Marie's neck. He instantly shimmered into the shape change and stood before them, fully dressed, in his human form seconds later.

The man whistled. “Very nice. Fallon told me you were the fastest at the change of any shape-shifter she'd ever met. Even faster than me, I'll give you that. But not by much.”

The connection clicked in Ethan's mind. “Fallon. That's why your scents are so familiar. You're Fallon's pride-brothers.”

“Ding, ding, ding. Two points for the
former
alpha of the Big Cypress pride. I'm Travis, and I owe you blood feud for allowing Fallon to die,” Travis snarled.

Ethan inclined his head. “It is your right. She was under my protection when she died at the vampire's hand, and I take full responsibility. But this woman has nothing to do with any of it. She is merely a visitor who arrived today.”

The three men surrounding the car had been edging their way toward Travis and now stood fanned out in a loose semicircle around him, staring at Ethan.

Travis laughed, the sound a chilling mockery devoid of humor. “You lie. I can smell you on her. You're fucking her, aren't you? How does it feel to know somebody you care about is hurting? That she might die?”

Marie started to speak. “You gain nothing by threatening me. He spoke the truth. I—”

Travis dug the point of the knife further into her throat, and she broke off with a strangled moan. Ethan roared out his fury and started toward them, but the three thugs blocked him from Travis.

Travis shouted his command. “Stop or I'll kill her now. Just like I killed your precious panthers. Did you get my message? Or, wait, was it my half-dozen messages, delivered in the form of dead cats?” His chilling laughter rang out, and Ethan noticed that even Travis's henchmen shuddered. A panther shifter who could murder cats of his own kind was worse than the lowest kind of scum.

Ethan froze, gaze locked on the knife point where it was sunk into Marie's skin. “What do you want, Travis? Tell me now, and leave the woman alone.”

“I want
you
, alpha,” Travis said. “I call blood feud and alpha challenge upon you. Tomorrow night, under the full moon, we will battle for your title, your lands, and your pride. Dare you to refuse?”

Ethan stared at the Texas shape-shifter, assessing strengths and weaknesses. There was no option. Alpha challenge could never be refused. But if Travis harmed Marie any further, Ethan would kill him now.

He'd kill them all. Four to one was just another way to say good odds to an alpha who'd been trained by the best.

“I accept your alpha challenge, Travis, pride-brother to Fallon,” he said in the formal words of acceptance. “The blood feud will resolve itself at the challenge. Now let the woman go.”

Travis moved the knife away from Marie's throat and shoved her at Ethan so hard that she fell, then signaled to his men and turned to run. “Enjoy your woman and your land while you can,” Travis shouted. “In twenty-four hours, they will all be mine.”

Ethan leapt the distance to Marie, lifted her off the ground, and cradled her in his arms. “How badly did he hurt you? Your neck, your hands, and your knees are bleeding. He's going to die painfully for this, I swear to you,” he vowed, his hands almost compulsively clutching her to him.

“Ethan, please. It is not…I am not severely injured. Merely surface wounds. But I would like to return to the cabin, if you do not mind.” She was trying so hard to be brave for him, he could tell, but her breath caught in a hitching sob at the end of her sentence. She pressed her face into his chest, and he felt something cold and hard in his heart soften even while rage pounded through him.

Protective instincts far older and more primitive than any he'd ever known, even in his role as alpha, swamped him. He would protect this woman, no matter the cost. His cat snarled its agreement inside him, roaring out its claim. Marie was theirs to protect.

As he carried her to the car and placed her gently into it, he surrendered in his internal battle. No matter that it didn't make any sense at all. Marie was his, and he would avenge every scratch, every bruise, every touch from that knife.

Travis was going to die screaming.

While Ethan made several phone calls warning his pride members of the danger and informing them of Travis's alpha challenge, Marie spent the time in the car on the ride back to the cabin trying to overcome the terror that had frozen her into immobility in the encounter with Travis. Gradually, fury—both at herself and at Travis—won out over the fear.

By the time Ethan whipped the car into the small driveway in front of Kat's cabin, anger definitely held the upper hand. She shoved the door open and stumbled out of the car, barely taking a step before Ethan was there, scooping her into his arms again.

“I am able to walk. These are minor injuries, Ethan. Please put me down,” she said and was dismayed to hear the tremble in her voice.

“Humor me,” he said, striding up to the door. He gently lowered her to stand at the door, then quickly opened it and lifted her again, not letting go of her until he reached the overstuffed couch. For a moment his arms tightened around her, and he dropped his forehead to hers. “Never again,” he muttered, and it had the ring of a promise or a threat. “Never again.”

He gently lowered her to the couch and headed for the kitchen. “I know Kat keeps a first-aid kit around here somewhere.” He flung open cupboard doors with barely controlled ferocity, and Marie sat where he'd placed her, just watching him, the tension in all that lean muscle somehow mesmerizing her.

“First-aid kit,” she murmured, realizing what he must mean. “Does that contain medicines to render assistance? If so, it is unnecessary. I have some small skill at healing even in matters not related to childbirth. Perhaps you could find a cloth for me to clean these wounds, though?”

He ran water in the sink and brought a small wet towel to her. “Here's the cloth. But are you sure? You need antibiotics. Hell, you need to go to the hospital. What was I thinking?” He dragged a hand through his hair, looking every bit as wild-eyed as Travis
had. Marie shuddered, not wanting that particular memory to surface just yet.