A Strange New Breed

by Wendy Stone

  Then he kissed her on the cheek and whispered. It would have been too soft for a human to hear from the fire escape, but to Nashe’s keen senses it may as well have been a shout.

  “If you only knew, Terry. I would love to hold you the way he does. But you would never accept it from me. Why do you accept it from him? Why couldn’t it be me?”

  With a heavy sigh, Spence turned and left the apartment, leaving Nashe to wonder if he was friend or foe. But with the click of the lock as the door closed behind him, Nashe decided to leave that question unanswered this night. He used his paws to close the window and padded down the metal stairs and into the night.

  * * * *

  Terry’s sleep was fraught with strange dreams and even wilder nightmares. She could hear Nashe’s voice throughout them all, laughing at her, treating her with that same disdain he’d used since she’d met him the night Marissa had changed.

  In her dreams, he came to her, sometimes as the big strange-looking cat, sometimes as a man. The ones as a man were the worst, for he would kiss and caress her until she couldn’t stand anymore, begging for him to love her, to take her anyway he wished. She would cry out for him, reach out and he would be gone, leaving her unfulfilled and aching.

  She woke late that morning. The doctor had put her on sick leave for a couple of days until her ankle would bear her weight better. The sunshine was on her bed, the warmth of that ray giving her a false sense of security. She lay in that ray of sunshine, wondering what had woke her and trying to remember when she moved from the couch.

  The knock came again, this time louder. Terry rose, cursing as her ankle gave out before she reached for the crutches. “I’m coming!” she called.

  She didn’t bother with a robe, her tank and shorts were enough. “Who is it?” she called as she got closer to the door.

  “It’s me, Spencer.”

  Terry groaned, remembering the things he had said the night before, thinking her asleep. She wasn’t ready to deal with either of the questions he had raised, not about her feeling for Nashe or her lack of them for him. With a sigh, she unlocked the door, opening it a small amount and peering through the crack. “What do you want, Spence?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You were pretty upset last night, plus the ankle and all...”

  “And all? Go ahead and say it, I’m an idiot for letting myself get into this situation with Nashe.” And with you, she added silently.

  “I don’t think you’re an idiot, Terry, but I do think this man is dangerous.”

  “You don’t know the half of it, Spence. But I can take care of myself. I don’t need you playing protector. Not that you could protect me from him anyway.”

  “I’d say,” Nashe said, coming up behind Spence. “You just can’t stay out of her business, can you boy?”

  “That’s something you have in common,” Terry groaned. “Go home, both of you. I’m going back to bed.”

  “But Terry…”Spence said. “I…”

  “Buzz off, neighbor boy,” Nashe growled, sticking his toe in the door before Terry could shut it. “The grown ups need to talk and you’re in the way.”

  “She doesn’t want you here, either,” Spence said, eyeing the taller man.

  “She does, she just doesn’t realize it yet. Now get lost, dweeb, before I forget my manners.” He growled low in his throat, sounding exactly like the beast that dwelled inside. His eyes glowed for just an instant, the green so eerie that Spence stuttered for just a moment then hurried to his own apartment, closing the door loudly behind him.

  “So he does learn,” Nashe muttered, an amused smile hovering about his firm lips. “Now let’s hope Terry is as amenable.”

  Terry stood at her sink, watching as he walked toward her. She turned off the water, putting the kettle on the stove and turning on the burner. Reaching into a cupboard, she grabbed a tea bag and sat it in a cup. “I guess I owe you a thank you for last night.”

  “It’s not necessary. Though if you have another tea bag, I wouldn’t mind joining you.”

  She reached into the cupboard getting down another cup and tea bag. “So what are you doing here?”

  “I came to make sure you were okay. I didn’t want to go last night.”

  “I’m fine, as you can see.” She paused, staring at him. “You shed.”

  “What?”

  Terry turned off the burner as the kettle started to whistle, carefully pouring the boiling water into the cups. She handed him his and then took her own, hobbling into the living room with it where she could put up her foot.

  “You shed,” she repeated. To prove her point, she pulled out a silvery strand of hair. “From the window sill, see? Trying to protect me from Spencer? I don’t need a mythological guardian for that.”

  “You know,” Nashe said, taking the hair from her, “you’re taking this whole thing rather well. Most people wouldn’t be able to process the thought of werewolves, much less were-panthers.”

  “What are you?” she asked, using her spoon to squeeze the water from her tea bag before setting it aside. You don’t look like Lukah or those other two that were here.”

  “I’m a mixed breed. I belong to neither clan and to both at the same time. Some can’t accept me for who I am, part wolf, part panther. My mother fell under the spell of one of the wolves. He was their alpha, big, cocky, with an attitude.”

  “Sounds like someone else I know,” Terry muttered into her cup, blowing on her tea before sipping it.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. Go on, please.”

  “She mated with him, against both clans’ wishes. Her clan drove her out, while his would never accept her as their alpha female. She lived a precarious life, on the edge of our society. When she became pregnant, all involved wanted her to abort her litter.”

  “That’s terrible. Life should be sacred. All life.” She spoke with a vehemence that made him smile.

  “My mother felt the same. She ran from the clan instead of letting them force her into something she didn’t want. My father,” Nashe spat the word, “didn’t bother to look for her. Instead, he severed their bond, leaving her alone and clanless. She had no help, no one to turn to when her pains took her.”

  Terry sat down her cup, scooting a bit closer to him and laying her hand over his. “I’m so sorry. No one should have to go through what she did.” She squeezed his hand then gasped when he turned his over and entwined their fingers.

  “Thank you,” he said, setting his own cup aside. He cupped her chin with his hand, drawing her face up so he could find her lips. His kiss was soft, tentative; as if afraid to break the cocoon of emotions that flowed around them. When he lifted his head, her eyes were still closed, her mouth half parted. A sigh escaped her.

  “She had her litter,” he continued, watching as she blinked her eyes open in surprise. “There were eight of us. Among my people, that’s a huge litter. Most are two or three and with the clan’s help, they grow up healthy. My mother didn’t have any help. All she had was eight children to fend for.”

  “What happened? I know you made it, but did any of the others?”

  “Two of my brothers and one of my sisters died in the first week. My mother cried before burying them in the way of her clan. The five of us were a huge burden for my mother. She grew skinny and weak from nursing us. She couldn’t hunt like she needed, she couldn’t forage for food. She gave us everything.” He lifted her hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

  “We made it through the first weeks, I don’t remember much of that time, only that it was always cold and the burrow mom had made wasn’t very big. I think we all would have died out there. But one morning, we woke to half a sheep that someone had left outside our burrow. My mother had her first good meal in weeks. She hid what was left, burying it as was her way.”

  “After that, every few days more meat would be left outside. As we got older, Mom grew stronger and she began to teach us how to hunt and kill. I lost another l
itter mate to a trap and another to a river that was too wide and fast for her to cross. Three of us survived. My two sisters are out there somewhere. I haven’t seen them since Mom died a few years ago.”

  “So you were raised…”

  “…like an animal. But also as human. Those lessons didn’t begin until mom found us a house to live in. Then we were taught how to be human.”

  Terry felt a wave of sympathy. How could anyone treat another with such callousness, throwing his mother out when she was pregnant, leaving her to fend for herself and her children? She stared up at Nashe, seeing him in a different light than the crude and arrogant brute that’d pushed himself into her life, treating her as a second class citizen that first night.

  “Don’t, Terry. Don’t pity me or feel bad for me.”

  “I don’t,” she said softly. “Okay, well maybe just a bit. You went through hell.”

  Nashe rose, pacing back and forth in front of her. “I didn’t tell you this for you to feel sorry for me. I just want you to understand.”

  “Why?”

  “Huh?” Nashe turned and looked down at her. She picked up her cup again, sipping her tea as she watched him. “Why what?”

  “Why is it important for me to understand? I’m nothing to you. I’m a friend of Marissa’s, that’s all.” She set down her cup.

  Nashe dropped beside her. He grabbed her arms in his hands, careful to keep from bruising her. “You’ve had the dreams.”

  It wasn’t a question, but a statement of facts. Terry stared up at him, her blue eyes wide and a little scared, though she would die before admitting it. “Yeah so, what about them? I’ve always had an active imagination.”

  “This isn’t your imagination, Terry. It’s something more, something that only the wolves believe.” He dropped her arms like they were on fire, pushing his hand through his short hair, leaving it standing on end. “It’s prophecy. Even if we don’t like what it means, it’s something we have to deal with.”

  “You’re talking nonsense, Nashe. I don’t have time to listen to this.” She tried to get up but he grabbed her again, holding her, dragging her closer to him. “What are you doing?”

  “Showing you exactly what the prophecy means,” he growled, grabbing her chin and holding her still as his lips smashed over hers.

  A Strange New Breed

  Chapter Four

  His lips were hard, bruising in their intensity, startling a gasp from Terry. She struggled against him, pushing his chest with her hands. He was hard as steel, his body well-formed and without a hint of fat.

  It didn’t take long for Terry to give in to the pressure of his lips, feeling the warmth of him and the attraction spin through her. Her breath quickened; her heart beat furiously in her chest. Heated blood rushed through her, making her weak. She moaned under the pressure and he gentled the kiss, tasting her mouth with his tongue.

  She pressed against him, frustrated that she couldn’t feel more until he lifted her, pulling her onto his lap to cradle against him. Her hands slid up his chest, her fingers lingering over the muscled curves of his shoulders, wishing she were feeling skin instead of the cotton of his shirt.

  Terry turned in his arms to press her breasts against his chest, needing the feel of him desperately even as he tore his mouth from hers, dragging his lips down her neck. “What are you doing to me?” she whispered brokenly.

  “I’m proving a point.”

  “I feel your point,” she murmured, wiggling against him.

  “Funny. Now shut up. Unless you want to tell me what you like?”

  She laid her head back against the side of the sofa, giving him more room to feast upon her throat. “I think you’re doing pretty well on your own.”

  Nashe pulled on the tank top she wore, tugging until he felt the straps break. His lips feathered over her collar bone and teased the soft skin with tender nips of his teeth. Every touch made her shiver with desire and toyed with her nerve endings, until she was a raw mass of want.

  He lifted his head, his eyes on her exposed breasts. “Beautiful,” he muttered before leaning down and lapping at one taut tip with his tongue.

  The tiny touch hardened her nipple, the flesh around it puckering. Her back arched uncontrollably, invitingly, letting him know she wanted more. He complied, taking the hard tip into his mouth, sucking her.

  Terry couldn’t stop the moans pouring from between her lips. Her hands moved across his shoulders to his hair, her fingers digging into the short locks and holding him to her. “God!” she lisped breathlessly. “Don’t stop.”

  He moved to the other breast, his hand coming up to play with her wet nipple. A deep growl sounded in his chest, a sound so filled with his own need that she couldn’t help but shudder in reaction.

  Nashe looked up, his questioning eyes meeting hers, green to blue.

  “If you purr in my ear,” she said softly, “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

  He threw his head back and laughed. “I’d never thought to hear something like that coming out of your mouth, Terry. I take it I’m growing on you.” He leaned down, kissing the inner curve of the breast he still held.

  “Yeah, like fungus,” she said, then ruined the snappy comeback by moaning as he twisted her nipple. He stood, cradling her in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” she gasped, throwing her arms around his neck in surprise.

  “I didn’t think you were that dense.” He grinned. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “You’re carrying me,” she snapped, her eyes narrowing. “I want to know why you’re carrying me.”

  “Maybe you are that dense,” he said, shaking his head. “Am I going to have to give you a play by play?”

  “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

  “So I’ve been told once or twice.” He walked into her bedroom. He laid her down on her bed, pulling off his shirt and following her down.

  Terry’s eyes went wide as she watched him take off the shirt. Terrible-looking scars crisscrossed his chest, extending down his side. One scar ran from just under his right nipple to disappear under the waistband of his pants.

  “Who…?”She began, staring up at him as he lowered himself over her.

  “The scars?” he asked, smiling when she nodded. “You’d better be careful, Terry. I might start thinking that you care about me.”

  “Shut up,” she growled as he threw her words back at her, balling up her fist and slamming it into his stomach. He didn’t even flinch as she cursed, shaking her hand to make the pain go away. “Is your stomach made of steel?”

  Nashe chuckled. “I live right,” he said. He moved above her, dipping his head to find her lips.

  Terry felt that kiss down to her toes, feeling them curl against his pants. He was an incredible kisser, making her forget her peevishness, and how much she wanted to claw out his eyes. A moan surprised her when he twisted his mouth, opening her lips, his tongue slipping inside to taste her passion.

  It wasn’t until she grew lightheaded that she realized she hadn’t taken a breath since he’d begun the kiss. Tearing her mouth away, she panted hoarsely, her breasts rubbing against his hard chest. “God, how can you do this to me? I don’t even like you.”

  “I hate you, too, sweetheart,” he murmured, trailing kisses across her jaw. Nashe’s mouth was warm, gentle, totally in contradiction to his words. His hands stroked her arms, sliding down to find her hands, pulling them up until they were above her head.

  Terry arched against him, her body on fire, craving the tenderness and heat that his body promised. “I’m crazy,” she breathed, turning her head to find his mouth.

  “Yes, you are. Ain’t it great?” he muttered against her mouth before taking her lips again. She squeaked a protest, the sound lost in his mouth. But she felt the smile that curved his lips against her own and knew a moment of triumph.

  Heat and desire warred with Terry’s common sense. She should be pushing him away, but instead her hands slid over him, tracing the
scars on his back, petting the nape of his neck. She let him woo her with his touch and his lips, filling the air with the sounds of her pleasure. Soft moans and frenzied gasps became whimpers, his mouth a hot brand on her satiny skin.

  His hands wrapped around her slim thighs, moving up to fill his palms with the curves of her ass. She felt the tips of razor-sharp claws and then the shorts she’d been wearing were on the floor, nothing more than shreds of what they used to be. Her ruined tank followed and she heard him groan as he stared down at her nearly nude body.

  “These should be illegal,” Nashe rasped, using a single finger to trace the bright red satin and lace that barely covered the soft tuft of fur at her sex. “You wear these to torture me, don’t you?”

  Terry stared down to where he lay between her thighs. “Yeah, I knew you were coming over here this morning. I knew you’d be stripping me and we’d end up in bed, so I wore the sexiest underwear I owned.” Sarcasm dripped from her words and she watched as his mouth curved upward.

  “That’s the Terry I know,” he smirked, playing with the thin band that held the thong in place.

  And love lingered in Terry’s mind, unspoken. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint you,” she said, leaning on her elbows. She gave a startled shriek as he grabbed her thighs, pulling her body beneath him, knocking her off her elbows and flat on her back.

  “You won’t,” he whispered, his fingers sliding over her cheek, caressing her face. For a moment their eyes met, both shying away from the emotions they saw in the other’s gaze.

  She felt his fingers on the satin of her thong, following the material as it went between her legs. A gasp took her as his hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers pulling the wet material away.

  “I hope you have more of these,” he said, giving her just that little bit of warning before he sliced through the fabric, ripping the satin from her body.

  Terry glared up at him. “You know, underwear isn’t cheap.”

  Nashe fisted the torn fabric in his hand. “I’ll buy you more, as long as I can rip them off of you when I want.”