 Shane
walked to his car as he continued to mull the problem of the Scorpion. The
biggest question of all was how in hell was he going to kill her? Scorpions
were known to be damn wily and this chick was the worst of all. The
corner of his lip lifted into a snarl as he recalled the last time he’d tangled
with her. It’d ended with him having a more than a few broken bones. And since
Shane still lived with his sadistic guardian at the time, he hadn’t been
allowed to shift to heal the wounds. So, that had resulted in a long, painful
recovery, of which he spent every second cursing her name—Lily. What in
the hell kind of name was that for a poisonous shifter anyway? The name always
made Shane think of a soft, gentle, nice woman. It sure as hell didn’t bring
forth an image of a six-foot, toned, dark-haired, she-devil who wouldn’t know a
fair fight in it came up and slapped her across her overly made-up face. Just
the thought of having to deal with her made him cranky, so when he caught the
slight scent of two Hyenas tracking him, it made him snarl. Not
even bothering to glance back at them, Shane growled, “I am so not in the mood
for this bullshit.” “Too
bad, because it’s coming your way,” came the nasally reply. Shane
paused, cocking his head to the side. “Did you really just say that? Come on,
not even the worst Western or action flick uses that line anymore.” “What’s
wrong with it?” “Besides
the fact that it’s so 1980s? I really don’t have time to list all of them.” “Are
you going to turn around and face us?” “No.” “Why
not?” Shane
sighed. “Because, you bore me.” “What?
You think just because you’re the great Shane that we’re beneath you?” “The Great Shane? Hmm…I may have to get
some business cards and shirts printed up with that. It really has a nice ring
to it.” Just as
he hoped for, that final taunt finally snapped the Hyenas’ thin thread of
self-control. The air filled with the sounds of snarls, then the pounding of
footsteps. Shane
flicked his wrists, allowing two blades to slide down his sleeves, the hilts
resting firmly into the palms of his hands. It wasn’t
until he could nearly feel their breath on the back of his neck that Shane
turned. At the same time, he swung the blades out, both of them connecting and
slicing into flesh. The
coppery tang of blood filled his nostrils along with the acrid scent of fear.
Unfortunately, or maybe in this case fortunately, neither smell was new to
Shane. One could say he’d even been weaned on them. “You
just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” he spat as he brought the
blades back in to position at his sides. He
tensed, ready for another attack and the damn Hyenas didn’t disappoint. While
he’d injured them, they still had plenty of fight left. A fact one of the
assholes proved when he swiped his claws out. Shane
ducked, but wasn’t fast enough. A soft hiss passed his lips as the claws ripped
into the right side of his face. More blood spilled onto the pavement and
damned if it wasn’t his this time. Well,
that just wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. “Now,
you’ve gone and really pissed me off,” Shane growled. He
finally got a good eyeful of his attackers, and to say he was unimpressed would
have been an understatement. It wasn’t
so much that they were both scrawny and wore dirty clothes. No, it was the fact
they both had frigging mullets. While Shane may not be into fashion like his
guardian, Dalton, he still knew that was just a no-no. “I
never did like Hyenas,” Shane said, spitting out a mouthful of blood because
the claws had gone all the way through his cheek. “Not only are you guys skeezy,
but some of you hurt a couple of friends of mine. And I happen to fiercely protect
those close to me.” The
Hyenas moved in again, but this time Shane was done playing. He swung the
blades around, this time with the intent to seriously maim. While he wasn’t
ticked enough to outright kill them, he wanted them to at least limp for the
rest of their lives. Dropping
down to his knees, he brought the blades around and cut into the back of the
Hyenas’ ankles, slicing into their achillies tendons. They
let out loud shrieks before they both dropped to the ground. One of them still
managed to reach out and strike Shane again, this time the claws digging into
his chest. Shane
bit back a curse as pain coursed through his body. Shit, that’d been his best
shirt, too. Now the damn thing was ruined. Even if he could get the blood out,
there was no way he’d ever be able to mend the tears. He
briefly debated taking his gun out and shooting the bastard for the offense,
but in the end he let it go. Not only had his coalition leader forbade him from
killing unless it was absolutely necessary, but Shane also promised Trevor he’d
cut down on the homicide. Trevor. Just
thinking that name soothed the anger in Shane. All of a sudden, he had an
intense longing to hold his mate in his arms. To be able to bury his nose in
the nape of Trevor’s neck and drink in the sweet scent of the man. He got
up, completely disregarding the Hyenas, who were rolling around and shrieking
in pain. He didn’t even give them a backward glance as he got into his car. His
fingers shook a bit as he turned on the engine, either from the blood loss or
the adrenaline crash. The drive home was short, however, so he made it there
without further incident. As he
stepped out, he took a moment to glance over the exterior of the old farmhouse
that he and his mate now lived in. Shane carefully searched out each shadow and
recess for signs of possible threats. Not that he expected any at the moment,
but old habits died hard. Only
when he was certain that all was clear and his mate was safe, did Shane relax.
He walked onto the porch, stumbling, as his vision began to swim a bit. Shit,
the chest wound must have been deeper than he thought. He put a hand to his
shirt, wincing when he realized just how badly he was bleeding. A
normal shifter would have noticed it sooner, but Shane was far from normal. He’d
been taught from an early age to ignore such trivial things as pain or blood
loss, so it wasn’t until things became really bad that he became concerned. He
opened the door, his hands leaving behind streaks of blood on the white wood.
Oops, that was sure to piss Trevor off. He hated it when things were messy.
Which never failed to surprise Shane, since he himself was the biggest mess of
all, yet Trevor still managed to fall in love with him. The
inside of the home was dark, but Shane didn’t need any lights to guide his way.
With his enhanced feline vision, he could see as clear as if it were day. He went
directly to the master bedroom and paused at the entrance to study his mate.
Trevor slept on his side, one hand tucked under his cheek. His plump lips were
slightly parted, a lock of his dark hair falling over his pale face, the
contrast of colors coming off as near perfection. And yet
everybody claimed it was Shane who had the angelic features. How wrong they
were. In Shane’s opinion there was only one angel and it was his Panther. Trevor’s
lids blinked open, his green-eyed gaze instantly becoming alert. “Shane? Are
you okay?” Since
he knew Trevor no doubt already smelled the blood, Shane didn’t lie. “No, I may
have been nicked a bit.” Even as
he said that, a fresh wave of blood surged from his wound, droplets falling to
the hardwood floors with a quick succession of splatters. Yeah, there was no
doubt about it, Shane was making a real mess. Well, damn. This isn’t how I planned for my
evening to end. |
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