The Panther

by Ezra Dawn

  The Panther’s Favorite Bully

  © 2019 Ezra Dawn

  eBook ISBN: 9780463517482

  ISBN-13: 9781086458220

  Cover art created by JeB Designs

  jebdesigns@outlook.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any form or by any means without express permission from the copyright holder. This book contains sexually explicit content which is suitable only for mature adults.

  Books by Ezra Dawn are only available through Amazon, and Smashwords distributed retailers. (iBook’s, Kobo, Barnes and Noble, local libraries, etc.) If you are reading this book elsewhere, please note, it is an illegal, pirated copy, uploaded without my permission. I, the author, nor the distributors, received payment for the copy, and if prosecuted, violation comes with a fine of up to $250,000. PLEASE do not pirate books!!

  #piracyistheft

  #notavictimlesscrime

  About the Book

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Epilogue

  Playlists

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Ezra Dawn

  Contact the Author

  (This is a paranormal short story and is part of a series. The Venetian Hills series interconnects with the Asphalt Bay series. In order to understand events in this book, it is recommended that you read the first six Asphalt Bay books as well as the other three Venetian Hills books before this one.)

  Kuro Delane is a panther shifter and the head tracker for the Venetian Hills pack. He’s also an assassin who only works for victims to get justice when the system fails them. What no one knows is that Kuro wasn’t always the person he is today. At one point in time, he was fun loving with dreams of becoming an artist. That was, until an act of violence by the one person who was supposed to love and protect him above all others, snuffed out the light within him and his passion for art along with it.

  For years, Benji DeRozan has regretted his choice to succumb to peer pressure instead of protecting his friend. Nothing made him regret his choices more, than finding out his friend had disappeared with no word as to where he was going. So, without any other options, Benji started searching for any sign of Kuro. He wanted the chance to apologize, even if it meant taking a beating but before Benji could get close to finding answers, he was kidnapped and tossed into a lab to be experimented on.

  Kuro decided a long time ago that he’d never forgive Benji and the other men who harmed him, but when Benji is discovered in a lab with other paranormals, Kuro offers to help Benji get better. Benji has his work cut out for him if he wants to earn Kuro’s forgiveness. The question is, will he succeed or will Kuro’s attitude cause Benji to give up on ever making things, right?

  (Warning: Contains sexual content and explicit language. Not recommended for those under the age of 18.)

  This book is part of an interconnecting series with a villain plot that spans multiple books! It was written with the intention that the books would be read in a certain order. If you start from this one, you’ll be confused! Below is the correct reading order.

  1. An Alpha for the Demigod (Asphalt Bay One)

  2. The Enforcer’s Secret Vampire (Asphalt Bay Two)

  3. The Beta’s Poison Bite (Asphalt Bay Three)

  4. Taming the Feral Tiger (Asphalt Bay Four)

  5. The Alpha’s Master (Venetian Hills One)

  6. The Second’s Cursed Mate (Venetian Hills Two)

  7. The Doctor’s Demon Prince (Asphalt Bay Five)

  8. The Leopard’s Twin Troubles (Asphalt Bay Six)

  9. The Beta’s Second Chance (Venetian Hills Three)

  10. The Panther’s Favorite Bully (Venetian Hills Four)

  Most shifters shift into their animal forms at puberty when the child in question is twelve or thirteen. But it didn’t happen that way for me and my best friend. We were neighbors. Our houses were side by side. Our parents were the best of friends so naturally, we became friends too. Things were different in our pride. We lived in a small town where the human population was only about a hundred. The humans weren’t stupid though. They knew we were shifters and in a small town like Agra, where everyone knew everyone’s business, loyalty won over fear. The humans kept our secret, so, instead of living separately for our own safety, we mingled with the humans of the town and even went to school with them. Though living in an area at the heart of the ‘Bible Belt’ made things difficult for someone like me, who was so obviously gay.

  When we were younger, my friend and I were thick as thieves, but as we got older, and started high school, we began to grow apart. At least, when we weren’t on pride lands. At school, we weren’t part of the same crowds. I leaned towards the arts and he leaned towards sports. He was the All-American jock and quarterback for the football team, while I was the skinny twink who expressed myself with pride through color. At school and in town, we never exchanged more than a few pleasantries. It was as if I didn’t exist. But, at home -when he wasn’t having his football friends over-, things were normal. It hurt to be treated that way by someone I loved. Especially, since I’d kept my feelings for him buried deep so, he had no way of knowing that I wanted to be more than friends.

  Everything changed on that day. It was the Friday before the big homecoming dance during our junior year in 1989 and I’d finally convinced my parents to let me dye my hair pink. I’d shifted for the first time the night before and was excited to be able to tell my friend about it, despite being disappointed that he didn’t show up to celebrate my seventeenth birthday with me. Over the years, I’d heard a number of insults about my sexuality from some of the students. My biggest bullies though, were a group of guys from the football team. Guys my best friend started spending a lot of time with when he made the team. I could understand wanting to fit in and make friends with your team members, but when those team members are bigoted assholes their influence can change people.

  I saw it first-hand how much another person’s opinions can affect someone else. Dying my hair pink and wearing the neon green skinny jeans I fell in love with at the mall with my red glitter converse and black muscle shirt was a bad idea. An idea that seemed to be the last straw for the bullies who liked to try and make my life hell. They’d never done more than push me around and insult me, but that day, they did more and when my friend, -who I quickly realized was my fated mate when he got close enough- joined in, something inside of me died and I’ve never been the same. A week of agony later, I left the only home I’d ever known and never looked back. I should’ve known running from the past wouldn’t work for long. Fate loves to get her way and thirty years later, the past I tried to escape comes barreling into my present.

  When I left my hometown at the age of seventeen, I had nowhere to go so, I made my way to the town where the shifter council’s headquarters was located. Using the allowance money, I’d been saving I bought a bus ticket and never looked back. When I arrived on the council’s doorstep, I begged them for a job, and they tested me to see where I’d fit best. I spent a week in each job they assigned me as sort of an apprentice until the last test led me to train with the new recruits that would potentially become enforcers. I took to it like a duck to water and after my week was up, I was officially placed with the recruits to finish my training.

  I spent ten years as an enforcer before being scooped up by the Paranormal Council and undergoing more training to become one of their fixers. I was with them for another five years until
one case where there was more than one person doing the abusing but, I was only assigned to take out one and couldn’t disobey my orders. Letting the other two go free left a bad taste in my mouth and I returned to headquarters knowing leaving the other two alive was a bad idea. A sentiment that was proven to me a week later when the council received word that the other two had slaughtered the victims that reported the abuse.

  I went to the council that same day, made them an offer they couldn’t refuse then I hunted and killed the two that got away. I’d always been a good tracker and my training as an enforcer and a fixer only honed those skills so locating them was easy. I’ve spent the past fifteen years as an assassin for hire. The offer I made to the paranormal council that day is still in effect. They give me the jobs they’re unable to do anything about because they’re bound by the laws they created, and I carry them out. Every time I do a job, I leave a few business cards behind that circulate among the victims and bring in more jobs the council doesn’t assign.

  As long as I give the council all the info on the target afterwards and pay them ten percent of my fee, they pretend I don’t exist and neither do my actions, so I’ll never be arrested. It makes the council sound corrupt but, they aren’t. I’m what you’d call a necessary evil, but what gives the council the confidence to trust me and look the other way is the fact that the people I go after are bad seeds who abuse and harm the innocent and can’t be brought to justice for it by the paranormal council unless it’s reported to them and has enough evidence to back the claim. I ended up in the Venetian Hills pack before it was located in Venetian Hills. Back then it was called the Topeka pack located in Kansas and funnily enough, was about four and a half hours drive from my hometown.

  At the time, I’d been travelling from job to job as a hitman for hire, never settling down for more than the time it took to execute my target and move on. It was Christmas and I’d just finished a job in the next town over. Holidays always leave me at an all-time low emotionally because of the memories from the past and the longing that accompanies them. That particular Christmas found me at the lowest I’d ever been because of how close I was to my hometown and the fear that kept me from returning. So, after a few too many drinks at a local bar, I did a search of packs and prides in the area that were accepting of gay shifters and different species.

  The Topeka pack was the first to pop up, so I gathered my belongings, traveled to pack territory and asked for sanctuary and that was it. Over the years, I worked my way up through the ranks and became lead tracker. I even made a few friends and carved out a little slice of happiness for myself while still going on jobs. Joel is the only one who knows what I really do for a living, everyone else just thinks I’m a fixer still. When the pack had issues with the Topeka coven and decided to move because they couldn’t fight the coven’s numbers, I moved with them because I no longer wanted to be completely alone.

  Yes, I’m still lonely because I don’t have anyone in my life romantically, but I’m surrounded by people who care about me. I’ve even had my family come to visit a few times under the strict rule that they don’t mention Benji. Which has been good for me, but it doesn’t curb the loneliness deep within. Only the love of a partner could do that, and despite what happened in the past, I refuse to be with anyone else since it feels like I’d be cheating on my mate. Which is not something I’d do even if I’m not sure I’d ever forgive or claim the man. Out of sight out of mind has always been my motto. If I never see him, I don’t have to address the feelings I’ve kept buried for the past thirty years, but as I found out two weeks ago, you can’t run from fate.

  Two weeks ago…

  After checking in on the scout team Negan assigned to me when our pack first started raiding labs, I head to the medical tent that’s been set up housing the numerous paranormals we rescued from the lab some of which are still in a coma. There were so many, they wouldn’t all fit in the small clinic we have. It’s not like we could take them to a traditional hospital either because then we’d have to explain how they ended up the way they are and that would open a whole can of worms no one wants to open.

  Splitting the rescued paranormals between different territories has helped some but the more labs we raid the more apparent it becomes that we need more space and better facilities. The alpha has put plans in to expand the clinic and hire more doctors. A plan the other packs helping us are also putting into motion though construction won’t finish for a few more months. The fight with Carmine is only just beginning and while I feel like we’re getting closer to capturing him, it’s still going to be an uphill battle. Some of the paranormals that have been rehabilitated and decided to stay with the pack, have volunteered to aid in the fight.

  We now have more teams forming scouting parties as well as a number of tech gurus who’ve applied their hacking skills to not only go through any data, we find but to also look for patterns that could give us clues as to where other labs are located. Like say, a large order for medical supplies and equipment that isn’t going to a hospital, or power usage in places that should be abandoned. So far, we haven’t had much luck, but I have faith that we’ll find something and maybe end this war we’ve been fighting. After the last raid, all teams were put on stand-by also known as vacation until all the data can be sorted through.

  Walking into the tent, I almost run into Negan’s back. There’s a crowd of people standing around and I can’t help but wonder what I missed. Taking a deep breath, I scent the people in the room to get a feel for who is here and am surprised to find it’s the entire inner circle. There’s a number of unfamiliar scents as well, likely coming from the paranormals in the beds. There’s also a hint of something familiar I can’t put my finger on. I barely acknowledge what the alpha is saying as he walks through the tent going to each bed holding a comatose shifter and asking for volunteers to house each one during their recovery. When he gets to the last one, the source of that familiar scent finally registers and immediately takes me back to the past. A past where I was a different person, filled with light, love, dreams, and hope, until it was cruelly snuffed out by the one person I loved above all else, who would’ve been my everything, and the people he called friends.

  Hearing Joel say that they don’t have a name for him spurs me into action. Praying I’m not about to make a huge mistake, I walk to the front of the crowd and say, “His name is Benji DeRozan.”

  Joel looks at me with a curious expression on his face. “How do you know that?”

  “We come from the same pride.”

  “Would you be willing to take him then?”

  Do I really want to subject myself to this? Being around him will bring up memories, both good and bad, some of which I’d rather forget. Right now, he doesn’t have anyone else and after the torture I’m sure he’s been subjected to, a familiar face might be what he needs. Deciding to put the past aside for now, I don my familiar mask of indifference and say, “Yes, I’ll take him.”

  I’m probably going to regret this but, despite past hurts, my instincts are screaming at me to help and protect him. He’s my mate and while I’ve managed to ignore that fact for the past thirty years, now that he’s in front of me, I no longer can. That doesn’t mean I won’t take precautions to protect myself. I learned a number of things from a warlock I met during my time as an enforcer for the shifter council and I’ll be using that knowledge to keep Benji at arms-length until I’m sure he’s not the same person he was when around the bullies he called friends

  He doesn’t need the mate pull taking focus off his recovery either. There’s also the fact that I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive him for what he did. But, as long as he doesn’t have those same opinions his friends once did, I’m willing to try because the past thirty years have taught me that being alone for the rest of my life is not something I want to experience when I know I have a fated mate I could be sharing my life with. But, before any of that can happen, he needs to wake up, and maybe see someone he can talk to about his exp
erience in the lab as I’m sure he’ll have some form of PTSD depending on how long he’d been there.

  Joel’s voice pulls me from my inner thoughts as he addresses everyone in the room. “Those of you who offered to take in these shifters, the clinic staff will be by your houses today to set up everything these shifters will need for the duration. Once that’s done, we’ll move the shifters into your houses. You’ll be taught how to care for them by the staff while they are with you and someone will check in by phone daily and in person once a week. If you have any questions, please consult the clinic staff. Thank you for your generosity, you can all head home now.”

  We all exit the tent and return to our houses. A few hours later, the clinic staff comes by and sets up the necessary equipment in the guest room. After everything is ready, they teach me how to change an IV bag, feed someone through a tube, change a catheter, a urine bag, and a bunch of other things that’ll be paramount in taking care of Benji. Once the staff is sure I’m capable, Benji is brought in and left in my care for the foreseeable future allowing me to once again wonder if I’m making a huge mistake. Only time will tell.