A Strange New Breed

by Wendy Stone

“Oh, jealousy.”

  “He’s not jealous, just territorial.”

  “You should understand that,” Nashe said, butting in to their conversation. He wrapped his arm around Terry’s shoulders and pulled her closer.

  “Should I make him feel better, Ter, or do you want to nurse this jealous side of him for a while?”

  “If he can’t trust me…” Terry turned toward Nashe, ignoring the glass that was on the bar. “You do trust me, don’t you?” She finger-walked her hand up his chest, playing with the tab on his zipper. “You know that I’d never, ever cheat on you.”

  Nashe looked into her eyes, seeing a warning but not understanding it. “Yeah, I guess,” he said grumpily. He picked up his drink and took a long pull before setting it down and wrapping her in his arms. “You’re just so beautiful, it’s hard to believe that every guy here doesn’t want you.” He nuzzled his nose in her neck, taking a precious moment to just enjoy her scent and the way it wrapped around his senses.

  Gray winked at her and then walked away, casting glances back at the big man that he knew was a Were, though he couldn’t figure out what kind.

  “It’ll work quickly,” the other bartender said, “I’ve already alerted the others. They’ll be ready to do their part.”

  Gray nodded, taking one more glance at the entwined couple before working on the next drink order.

  * * * *

  Marissa woke slowly, her head aching horribly. A nasty taste filled her mouth and her tongue felt as dry as the Sahara at midday. She tried to move, wanting to sit up, but neither her arms nor her legs would work.

  “What…?” she croaked, opening her eyes and blinking at the brightness of the lights above her. “Where am I?”

  She could hear something rustling and tried to turn her head, but even that small movement sent shards of pain and nausea through her. “Who’s there? Please, talk to me. Why am I tied up?”

  Whispers and more rustling answered her questions. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “Please,” she begged. “Please talk to me.”

  Heavy footsteps moved toward her. Marissa cringed, frightened beyond belief. She kept flashing back to hard hands pulling away her clothing, heavy bodies pushing against hers. She kept feeling herself being raped again and it terrified her beyond words.

  Closing her eyes, she squeezed them tight, not wanting to see what kind of beast was coming to violate her.

  He was next to her; she could feel him looking at her. She could feel his hot stare raking her body. She’d been getting ready to shower after a run with Lukah and wore only a plain white tank top and a small pair of shorts, clothes she’d put on before coming into the house after the change.

  She couldn’t walk around the house half- naked, like the rest of the clan. Despite how the change had affected her body. The blood she’d shared with Lukah had changed her, healed her, putting her in the best shape of her life. She’d dropped a bit of weight, her body firm and as perfect as it could be.

  “Open your eyes.”

  The strange voice made her jump and she turned her terrified face away from the sound. “No,” she whimpered. “I don’t want to see you.”

  A sharp slap on the face sent her head flying the other way and she gasped in pain.

  “Open your eyes,” the voice said again. She could hear the excitement in the voice and knew he would take pleasure in making her feel pain.

  “Okay,” she cried, looking up at the man who stood over her.

  He was gorgeous, with blonde hair and green eyes. But there was an evilness to him that made her think of bullies in the play yard at school, looking for the weak and the frail to pick on.

  “What do you want with me?” she asked, determined not to be afraid.

  “We want your mate, not you. You’re just bait.” He laughed, throwing back his handsome head. “Of course, when we’re done with him, then maybe we can talk some more.” He moved his hand, sliding it up and over her stomach, cupping her breast and pulling on the hard nipple that was poking at the thin white fabric. He squeezed it hard, hearing her gasp of pain and smiling even more. “You’ll be fun to break.”

  “Go to Hell!” Marissa growled, willing the change. She’d tear him apart as a panther.

  “I wouldn’t try that if I were you,” he said calmly. “These chains are special. They’ll hold you no matter if you’re human or beast, but when your body changes to panther size, the chains won’t. You’ll be split in two. Not a pleasant thought, is it?”

  “Lukah will come after me,” Marissa shouted. “He’ll find me and then I’ll happily watch him tear you apart.”

  “You don’t feel it yet, do you?”

  “Feel what?” she asked, glaring at him.

  “The headache is the start of it. Then you’ll begin shaking and feel like you’re coming apart. You’ll have a horrible pain in the stomach and you’ll vomit, even when there is nothing left in you. You’ll beg to have the pain stop even as you start to hallucinate.”

  “What are you talking about?” she cried, pulling on the chains.

  “Your Lukah is probably feeling it worse. But you’ll soon be caught up in it as well. The only remedy is to be reunited with your mate, or death.” He chuckled.

  As he spoke he ran his hands over her body, touching her with a familiarity that had her cringing away from him as far as the chains would allow.

  “Leave me alone,” she shouted.

  A door opened behind her, the sound of music loud and almost overwhelming. She saw her tormentor turn his head, looking back at the door even as he took his hands off of her.

  “What did I tell you?” It was a feminine voice, one that was deep and husky; as if she spent her entire life on the edge of orgasm, just waiting for someone to give her that final push.

  “Not to touch her,” he said, backing away from the table. “I’m sorry, Shurene, I didn’t mean to break your rules.”

  “You didn’t mean to?” Shurene laughed, the sound lovely and sensual. “Then why did you?”

  “I couldn’t help it. Look at her, look at the way she’s dressed. She’s asking for it.”

  “Oh no, Tamar, you didn’t just say that, please tell me I misheard you.” She sighed. “No woman asks for it, Tamar, you should know that by now. Get out of here, go find Talon and tell him what you’ve done and why.”

  As Marissa watched, Tamar’s face went white and he seemed to lose control of his mouth. It flapped and strange syllables came from it as if he couldn’t stop himself. Finally, he ducked his head down, leaving the room. He must have pulled the door closed behind him because the music was suddenly cut off.

  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Shurene asked, staying behind Marissa where she couldn’t see her.

  “N-no. Will you let me loose?” Marissa asked, hoping that another woman would show compassion.

  “I can’t do that,” she said, coming close enough to the table to brush Marissa’s fiery hair off of her forehead.

  Long, sharp nails painted vibrant red traced patterns on Marissa’s cheeks. The hands were finely made, with long fingers. Her skin was beautiful, no wrinkles or lines marring the finely textured flesh. She was tanned a golden color, but her palms were pink.

  “I can feel your curiosity, little cat.”

  “I’m not curious. I just want you to let me go.” A sudden, blindingly sharp pain pulsed in her head and she closed her eyes, seeing Lukah’s face in her mind. He was hurting as badly as she, pulling at his hair in his frustration at not being able to find her. “Please,” she begged. “You’ve got to let me go, I’ve got to get to Lukah. He’s in pain.”

  Shurene’s voice whispered in her ear, her hands gently massaging Marissa’s temples. “The pain will stop after Lukah gives us everything he took from us.”

  “What did he take?” Marissa asked, her voice shrill with fear and concern for her mate. “He’s too honest to steal.”

  “Ahh, but he did steal. He stole our revenue, he took our properties, he made us f
lee from what we had and go into hiding. He killed my mate. Jackals mate for life, did you know that? We are one of the few species that does that. Even panthers can move from one mate to another if they choose. When he took my mate, he took the rest of my life as well.” She stopped talking and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm and her voice to grow soft again. “But this was all before you, before he became so enraptured with you. I might not be able to feel love again, not in the way of my people, but I can give pleasure.”

  “Give p-pleasure? What are you talking about?” Marissa felt as if her skull was going to explode. There were too many images coming into her mind now, too many pictures to make sense. “Lukah! I need my mate, please,” she cried.

  Shurene moved to the side of the slab of concrete where Marissa was tied. “Tamar had one thing right, this outfit is illegal. It’s as if you knew I would be seducing you, little cat.” Her fingers stroked over Marissa’s neck and down to her shoulders.

  “D-don’t touch me,” Marissa ordered. It came out more as a plea. Her body hurt, throbbing like one huge toothache. She felt as if she’d explode into tiny pieces.

  “I can make that pain better, little cat. Just be still and let me help you.” Shurene’s hands moved further, sliding over the mounds of Marissa’s breasts, cupping the softness of her flesh. She tugged on the fabric gently, pulling it up and over her chest, exposing reddened nipples that stood hard against pale flawless skin.

  “Ah, so perfect, so beautiful.” Shurene’s fingers stroked over those hard nipples, watching Marissa squirm. “You want me, you just won’t admit it. But that’s okay. My ego doesn’t need stroking, not like your little pussy does.” She bent and Marissa felt her hair, cool and silken, stroke over skin just before soft lips surrounded one nipple, sucking it gently into heat.

  It was as if her body had a mind of its own; one that wanted more, more touching, more tasting, more of this woman’s loving. She cried out in pleasure even as her mind shrank back from what was being forced upon her. “No,” she moaned, opening her eyes to see white blonde hair flowing across her upper chest. “Stop, please. You’ve got to stop.”

  Shurene turned her head, smiling up at Marissa as her hair settled over Marissa’s stomach. “Why should I stop? Do you not find me attractive?” She preened before Marissa’s eyes, pushing the long white-blonde hair back. Her eyes were strange. One was blue and the other brown, beautiful in a face with high cheekbones and full lips that curved up in the corners. “Don’t I turn you on? Maybe we should check and see if you’re wet, Marissa.”

  She lapped at the nipple once more before lifting her head and letting her hand slide down over Marissa’s stomach.

  Marissa tried to pull away, her stomach muscles contracting at the touch of the smooth cool skin of Shurene’s hand. She sucked in her stomach, trying to get away from that touch, but it only helped her tormentor by letting her under the band of her shorts that much easier. “No!”

  But it was too late. With the chains holding her spread eagle on the slab, it was a simple matter for Shurene to push her way under Marissa’s shorts, and since she hadn’t worn panties, to find her way between her thighs. She pushed through the small vee shaped fluff of hair that covered Marissa’s sex, finding her slit. Sliding her fingers through the heat and wetness she found there, she smiled with almost catlike glee.

  “Nice,” she whispered, her breath little more than a pant. “I’m going to enjoy this more than I thought.

  Marissa flinched when Shurene’s fingers brushed over her clit, the gentle touches sending her passions soaring despite her fear and disgust. She didn’t want to enjoy this, she didn’t want to want Shurene, but her body wasn’t listening. “Please,” she tried again, almost sobbing in pain and arousal. “Please, I don’t want this.”

  “You are a beautiful little liar,” Shurene said, nuzzling her nose against Marissa’s nipple. It stood tall and proud in the cool air, tightening even more at the caresses it was receiving. She moaned as she pushed one finger inside of Marissa. “Oh, and your tight, too. And so hot. I can’t wait to taste you.”

  Marissa almost cried in relief when Shurene took her hand away and out of her shorts. But it was short lived, for no sooner had she pulled it free, then Shurene grabbed the waistband of the shorts and pulled hard.

  The band was strong, resisting her efforts, but Shurene was not put off. In front of Marissa’s eyes, she changed her hand into a paw, a huge one with wickedly sharp claws. Shurene easily shredded the waistband, never touching the fragile flesh beneath. The fabric gave way after that and Shurene pulled the material free of Marissa, leaving her naked from the waist down.

  “How pretty,” Shurene said, her fingers fluffing the red curls on Marissa’s mound. “Such beauty shouldn’t be hidden. It should be celebrated.”

  Marissa shivered as a wave of pain suffused her body, making her cry out. It was growing stronger, the pains doubling in strength when Shurene wasn’t touching her.

  “Does it hurt, little cat?” she asked, her voice full of concern she scarce felt. Her eyes were hard, bright with enjoyment. Shurene’s hands went to the hem of her own black lace tank, pulling it over her head and off of her hair. She was slender and beautiful, with high, cone shaped breasts. Large tan nipples graced the tips, hardening in the cool air of the room. Proudly she skimmed her hands down her body, cupping her own breasts and twiddling the nipples between her fingers. “You find me attractive, don’t you, little cat?”

  Marissa could barely see. The pain was blinding in its intensity. Her body craved Lukah, needing him worse than a junkie jonesing for a fix. “Lukah!” she cried, struggling against the need.

  “Oh, baby girl, he can’t hear you,” Shurene said, the look of concern on her face belied by the enjoyment in her eyes. “But I’m here. What do you think your precious Lukah will say when he hears that a jackal bitch took his beloved mate and gave her more pleasure than he ever could? I can’t wait to see his face.” She rubbed her hands together greedily, her gaze running over Marissa’s naked form.

  Climbing up on the slab, she lay next to her struggling victim, her hands slowly roaming over Marissa’s soft curves. “You’ll love this,” she whispered against Marissa’s ear.

  * * * *

  Nashe held Terry close even as his eyes continued to move over the room and its inhabitants. To make himself less conspicuous, he reached for his drink, taking another long pull. As he set it back down, he released Terry and grabbed the bar.

  “Whoa,” he said. “That packed a punch. I don’t usually feel alcohol this quick.”

  “Gray makes a mean drink,” Terry said, reaching out to him when he stumbled. “Maybe you should sit down.”

  “Terry,” he said, looking at her strangely. Then he collapsed, falling to the floor at her feet.

  “Nashe!”

  Chapter Nine

  The room was cold, damp, and dimly lit. It was also small, barely big enough for the cot and single chair that was bolted to the floor. The door was steel reinforced, but Terry knew this only because their captors told her so. High in the corner was a camera, just out of her reach. A red light on it blinked, letting her know they were being watched.

  Terry sank down next to Nashe, who lay sprawled across the cot, his big feet hanging over the end. “Wake up, Nashe,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself to try to get warm. “Come on, wake up.” She shook him but he didn’t wake.

  “He’ll be out for a while, Terry,” said a voice behind her.

  She turned, startled, her hand going to her throat. Seeing a familiar face, she sighed in relief. “Chris. Thank God. You’ve got to get us out of here. I don’t even know what we’re doing here.”

  Chris Antreneaux, the owner of the bar, shook his head. “I can’t do that, Terry. I don’t know how you got wrapped up in this, but I recognize the man you’re with and I know of his affiliations.”

  “He’s my boyfriend, Chris. We wanted to go out tonight and enjoy ourselves. Is that a
crime?” She stood, feeling at a disadvantage.

  Chris shook his head. “Do you know what he is, Terry? I can’t just let him go.”

  “What do you want than? What will it take for you to let us be on our way?” Terry was furious, ready to attack.

  “Why are you here?”

  “I told you why, we wanted to go dancing.”

  “Terry, I like you. You bring a lot of business here. I think you are a beautiful woman, but,” he held up one finger, “you can’t lie worth shit.”

  “Fuck you, Chris.”

  “While we both might enjoy that, I don’t think that’s what you’re here for.” He walked toward her, leaving the door open behind him. Grabbing her arm, he yanked her close, grabbing her chin in one hand. “Now, let’s try again. Why are you here?”

  Terry tried to squirm loose, but he had a bruising grip on her chin. “Go to Hell,” she spat. She tried to knee him in the groin but he moved quickly, catching the blow on one meaty, muscled thigh.

  “Now is that anyway to treat your host, Terry? Considering how long I’ve known you, I would expect better of you. On top of that, you bring a half breed into my club!” He grabbed her arm, dragging her away from Nashe and out of the room. “Come, I have a little surprise for you.”

  * * * *

  Nashe woke to a throbbing skull and a terrible taste in his mouth. He lifted one hand to his head, blocking out the bright light above him and tried to open his eyes. Anything more than a slit made his head pound worse. He wondered if he’d be sick.

  “What the hell did I do last night?” He tried to sit up, but every move made him sicker. When his stomach rebelled, he managed to make it to the bucket sitting across the room. He felt better after emptying his stomach. He sat on the cold hard floor; head in his hands, praying the room would quit spinning.

  “Terry!” He jumped to his feet, regretting the move immediately. He’d come to the bar with Terry and she wasn’t here now. The jackals could be torturing her. She could be dead for all he knew. That thought filled him with something akin to desperation. With a growl of rage he threw himself at the door, hearing it creak and feeling it shudder on its hinges. Aiming the sole of his boot and gathering all his strength, he kicked the door open, striking one of the jackals that had come to investigate the earlier noise. The jackal flew back, slamming his head on the wall before sliding down, unconscious.