A black leopard. In the alley. Behind the diner. A leopard.

She didn’t even have the foggiest idea where it might have come from. The nearest zoo large enough to have big cats was in Asheville, and that was hours away. If this leopard was from a zoo, or even a private local collector—which had to be illegal—how did it escape to come to her aid?

A scuttling sound behind her made her jump, but it was only a large rat scurrying away. The alley was empty except for her and the leopard.

The big cat made a kind of mewling cry, one of distress, and lifted its head. From the light of the diner’s open door, she could see the gold gleam of its retinas as it moved. For a brief moment, the glowing eyes made the big cat seem like some sort of alien creature, but the sound it made melted away her fear.

It had been hurt defending her.

Cautiously, she approached, ready to bolt should the black leopard show any signs of getting up. “Nice leopard. Be a good fella, okay? Are you badly hurt? Will you let me look at you?”

The large animal didn’t rise at her approach, but it flicked the tip of its long tail a few times.

Slowly she inched up on its position. “What are you doing out here, big fella? You need to let me help you. I bet someone’s looking for you. I’m not going to hurt you, big guy.” She kept talking as she moved in, crooning the words soothingly.

Something wet gleamed on the cat’s shoulder, and she could smell the tang of iron in fresh blood as she squatted beside the panther. Please don’t let it be hurt too badly. “Hey there, big kitty. You’re going to be okay.”

Pet it.

The suggestion made her fingers curl with the anticipation of feeling the silky coat, even as a rational part of her brain screamed at her not to be so stupid. As if reading her thoughts, the black leopard began to purr, a deep, guttural sound ten times louder than a housecat, but purring just the same. The tail tip flicked again.

With a trembling hand, she reached out to stroke the panther. The purr grew louder, and the cat pushed back into her hand slightly. Its coat was amazing. So soft and sleek. Gently, she scratched the back of its neck with her nails, and the big cat turned its head sideways into her touch. Its mouth opened, and she could make out the gleam of enormous white teeth. There was no threat to her, however. From her perspective, it almost looked as though the panther was smiling.

With a jolt of self-awareness, she pulled her hand back. What the hell was she thinking? The leopard must be dying if it would let her stroke it like someone’s pet mastiff. She needed to get help. Someone had to be looking for it. She crept away from the big cat, staying low to the ground and moving slowly so as not to provoke it. The panther lifted its head to track her movement, and made a noise that could only be described as an inquiring mew.

Half-giggling to herself as shock set in, she got to her feet and dusted off her hands. Right. She had to go inside and tell Henry what had just happened. They had to call the police, and most likely animal control as well.

A glint of light on silver on the pavement where she’d been attacked caught her eye. Her necklace! She took a few hurried steps toward it and scooped it up.

She dropped it in her pocket and spun at the sound of movement behind her.

Eyes now fully accustomed to the dark, she saw a man standing behind her.

A naked man.

The black leopard was nowhere in sight.

What the hell? First she was attacked and discovered she was the Pied Piper of alley strays, then a loose leopard appeared and shots were fired. Now some jerk was parading around naked? Seriously?

Suddenly furious, she stalked forward. “I don’t have time for this crap, mister. Someone just tried to abduct me, and now here you are, without a stitch of clothing on. Get out of my way.”

She came to an abrupt halt when she realized she knew the man. It was Jack. The man who’d asked her out on a date earlier that evening. Jack. Standing in front of her. Naked. For just a brief moment, her mind shorted out.

Oh. My. God. That chest. Those abs. That… everything.

Then it hit her. Jack Ferris, with whom she’d been planning to go out, the man she’d been so damn attracted to, for pity’s sake, was just another pervert like the men who’d attacked her. For all she knew, they’d been in on it together. Hot rage bubbled to the surface and spewed out before she could stop it.

“You.” She spat the word with contempt. “What have you done with my leopard?”

Though he should have been utterly mortified at being naked, Jack looked relatively calm. He didn’t even cover himself with his hands, but stood there with one arm folded across his chest, his hand pressed against the opposite shoulder. Against her will, Ellie’s glance strayed down the length of his body. She’d never seen such a perfect form outside of a magazine before. The hair on his chest formed the base of a triangle between his shoulders, with the tip pointing down. A ridge of muscle along his hips dove down in a V in the same direction. It was as though every part of his body not only telegraphed his masculinity, but also served as a roadmap to his cock. She forcibly drew her gaze back up to his face. What the hell was wrong with her? She should have been willing to tear his nuts off with her bare hands, but something inside of her sang with feral glee as though she’d just spotted a shining pot of gold. It had to be the adrenaline rush from the attack. From getting out of bad situation by herself. It was as though she had on Seven Leagues Boots and had conquered the world.

And he was her prize.

“Okay, I know this looks bad. I can explain.” His voice grated, as though he had to force the words out but then he caught himself, suddenly frowning as he cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean, your leopard?”

“Leopard. Leopard. You know, big spotted cat that hails from Africa. Only this one was black.” She placed her fists on her hips. The hell with trying to impress the hot guy. That was before he’d turned out to be a creeper. If he took one step toward her, she’d let him have it.

“I know what a leopard is.” The acidity in his voice would have been funny, under other circumstances.

“Well, there was one here a minute ago. Where you’re standing. And it likes me. So I’d watch out if I were you, bucko.” A thought occurred to her. “Wait a minute. You placed the emphasis on the wrong word.”

“Um, excuse me?” For the first time, Jack seemed disconcerted. He pulled his head back slightly, and his lips parting slightly as though he might say more on the subject.

“The wrong word.” Ellie repeated. Now it was her turn to frown. “You put the emphasis on ‘your’, not ‘leopard.’ Anyone else would question the leopard part. You didn’t.”

“Damn.” Jack shook his head with a sigh. The slight movement made him wince, and he sucked in his breath.

Lightning cracked, lighting up the alley with a brilliant flash of light. For a split second, it seemed as though Ellie could see an image of a panther superimposed on Jack’s figure. That surely had to have been her imagination, a result of everything she’d been through that evening. What she didn’t imagine, however, was the way blood oozed between the fingers he had clasped against his upper arm. It ran in rivulets down his skin, almost black in the dim light.

“You’re hurt.” She took a step forward involuntarily before she remembered she was furious with him.

The crash of thunder drowned out his reply. It was so loud it made Ellie jump, and the scent of ozone lit the air. Large, hot droplets of rain spattered the pavement. One or two at first, and then in increasing numbers. Within seconds the skies opened as though someone had turned a faucet on above them.

Ellie squinted against the rain. It pounded down so hard, it practically drowned out all other sound. She had to raise her voice in order to be heard. “What did you say?”

“I said, it’s just a flesh wound.” He shouted back at her. He must have meant it as a joke. The kind of thing an action hero would spout in the middle of a tense scene, but Ellie noted his slight sway.

She rushed forward as he started to topple. His skin was damp with the rain, and her hands slid along his sleek muscles before she got a good hold on him. She caught him just as his knees buckled. The scent of him—something citrusy and enticing—filled her nostrils when she ended up with her nose pressed against his chest. With a grunt, she shifted position and hoisted him against one hip, the better to keep him standing.

“I bet you’ve been waiting your whole life to say that line.” The effort of keeping him upright made her grind out her words.

“Nah. Only since I was about seven or eight.” His breath brushed warm and intimate against her ear, sending a little shiver through her that somehow ended up coiled as a pleasurable heat low in her belly. Either that, or the amusement in his voice, which was seductive beyond all reason. “They never talk about how sudden pain can stop you in your tracks, hero or not.”

“What kind of hero are you? You’re supposed to be able to shake such injuries off.” She grunted as she shifted her grip on him. “Don’t you get shot on a weekly basis, tossed in a dungeon for days without food or water, and then, with only a cup of coffee to sustain you once you escape, run off to perform hair-raising feats of derring-do to save the fair maiden?"

His chuckle was absolutely wicked, a small intimate thing shared between them. “You forgot the pie. All heroes need at least a slice of pie to fortify themselves before heading back into the fray.”

The mention of pie made her stiffen. What the hell was she doing out here in the pouring rain, flirting with a perv? A perv who was bleeding. Damn it. She couldn’t just leave him here like this. “How bad is it?”

“I’m fine. Fine. Just a little dizzy, that’s all.” He seemed to sense her withdrawal. The humor faded from his voice.

“Where are your clothes?” Remembering how angry she’d been, she ground out the words.

“Back in the park. By my bike. I heard—” He straightened as though he realized he was leaning on her.

“You heard what?” The rain came down so hard the drops bounced off the pavement.

He said nothing, just shuffled a little, like he was trying to sneak away.

“You heard my cry for help.” She let go of him with a little push.

He swayed at the sudden loss of support, but then recovered his balance out of sheer willpower, it would seem. The light from the diner streamed over her shoulder and into his green eyes. Rain slicked his skin, burnishing his muscles. It soaked his hair, flattening it to his head and trailing down his face. There was something incredibly feral about him as he stood there. Blood streamed down his arm as though someone had spilled a bottle of India ink. He looked like something out of a Tarzan movie, and his raw attractiveness made it hard to concentrate.

“You heard my scream—and you came. Like the rats. And the cats. And the—” She looked at the wound on his arm, a line of torn flesh weeping blood. It looked almost like a burn, but the long linear injury was exactly the kind of mark left by a passing bullet. On his shoulder. The same shoulder where the black leopard had been wounded.

She stumbled backward as though he’d sprouted horns. “You’re a shifter.”

“Well, don’t say it like that. Someone might take offense.”

Everyone had heard of shifters. Ever since the first confirmed sighting some seventy-odd years ago, there’d been television shows dedicated to speculating not only about their culture and lifestyle, but as to who might be hiding their shifter existence. Shifters became the new boogeymen, something for talk show personalities to rant about and speculate as the guilty party for every unexplained disappearance or unsolved murder.

Over the years, a few brave souls either admitted their shifter status or accidentally got outed, but even they remained very private about their lives. From time to time, politicians would take up the mantle of shifter registration, but in the past, those movements never seemed to last very long. That had changed with the election of the current President, who was very anti-shifter. The intensity with which he pursued it made Ellie uncomfortable, especially since there seemed to be a direct correlation between new attacks on the shifter community and any allegations of corruption within his administration. He called not only for shifter registration, but containment and, in some cases, extermination as well. Most people Ellie knew looked askance at anyone who might be a little different, who didn’t quite fit in. The idea that a neighbor or co-worker might be a secret shifter was a bit unnerving.

Ellie could sympathize. She’d been an outsider her entire life. The notion that people might be justified in keeping their distance had haunted her for years.

People are right to fear me.

“Keep away from me!” She kept backing up. The rain hammered down, soaking her to the skin. Lightning cracked again, and this time, the thunder was only seconds behind. She turned to run into the diner, but Jack’s words caught her before she could make it to safety.

“You’re a shifter, too.”

She jerked to a halt and stood with her back to him, fists clenched, pinned in place by his words. She spoke over her shoulder, without turning around. “No. I’m not.”

A shifter was a creature that morphed into another form, right? Well, she’d never done that. Never.

Because I don’t know how.

“Ellie.” He somehow imbued her name with hurt and loss.

“Don’t.” The kindness and sympathy in his voice practically burned her ears. She couldn’t bear it.

He took a step toward her. “Haven’t you felt it? The power inside you, begging to come out? Don’t you know what you are?”

“Yes.” She wheeled then, ready to fight if necessary. “I’m a monster.”

He seemed taken aback for a second. “How can you say that? Who told you that?”

She squeezed her eyelids shut against the tears that threatened to spill and then opened them, blinking back the rain. “It doesn’t matter. What do you want from me?”

The rain gleamed on his skin as his shoulders slumped. He was really quite breathtaking as he stood there in front of her. Pity he wasn’t really interested in her for who she was. Only what she was.

“Your grandfather’s been looking for you for years. Decades. Ever since you went missing as a baby. He wants you to come home.” Jack held out his bloodstained hand.

Blood and belonging in one gesture. How very poetic.

Something in her chest tightened, only to melt unexpectedly. Someone had been looking for her? Someone actually wanted her. She had family. After all this time, there might be a place where she belonged. People who loved her. Who knew who and what she was and didn’t care.

Then why was I abandoned as a baby?

As tempting as it was to run to Jack begging him to tell her more, the hard nugget of her heart wouldn’t let her give in that easily. “Someone claims to know who I am?” Sarcasm steadied her voice. “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” Jack’s brows furrowed together. “Look, we can’t stand around here. Your attackers could be coming back—maybe even with reinforcements. I promise I’ll answer all your questions, but we’ve got to go.”

“Why would they come back? They’re just a couple of losers looking to get payback because I made a fool out of them earlier tonight. And why should I trust you?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have my credentials on me at the moment.” Jack sounded decidedly testy now. “You don’t bring a silencer to an assault. They weren’t here to settle a score, they intended to grab you. As to why someone would want to abduct you, you’re kind of an important person.”

“Oh. Right. Like I’m going to believe that. You must think me an idiot if you believe I’m going to fall for the ‘you’re the chosen one’ line.” Ellie made finger quotes as she snapped at him. “Besides, if I really am someone special, how would they know that?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that myself.” The intensity in Jack’s voice sent a shiver through Ellie that had nothing to do with the pouring rain.

She shook off the moment, annoyed with herself for nearly succumbing to his argument. She took two steps toward the diner door only to spin in her tracks and face him again. “So you really weren’t interested in having coffee with me at all.”

At least he had the grace to look pained. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Maybe someplace dry? Preferably when I’m dressed?”

She stalked up right up to him and jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “You’re a freak, Jack Ferris!”

Her words, meant to wound, thudded into their target.

His expression went bleak, as though a door slammed shut. “Because I’m a shifter?”

“What? No.” Ellie was momentarily confused, then shook her head vigorously. “I don’t give a rat’s ass you’re a shifter, except that I haven’t the foggiest idea what you want with me. No, you’re a freak because you accost women in dark alleys without any clothes!”

“Well, I had to remove them.” Jack spoke with infinite patience. “You know, before I shifted into panther form and took a bullet for you.” He winced again, as if remembering his injury.

“Oh.” Shame made Ellie blush. Thankfully, between the rain and the darkness, he couldn’t tell. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot easier to take your clothes off than to shred them every time you shift. Less expensive too.” Jack sounded a little huffy now.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Well now you do.” Clasping his wound again, he glared at her, the rain flattening his hair into his eyes.

“I have to get back inside. Henry will wonder where I am. Susan, too.” Susan was probably cursing a blue streak, thinking Ellie had left her with all the end-of-day chores. Suddenly far-too-conscious of how close Jack was, Ellie could feel the heat radiating off of him. She was cold and wet, and the urge to wrap her arms around him to drink in his warmth was surprisingly strong. Did shifters have some mad mind-control pheromones she knew nothing about? Because she found herself swaying toward him.

He leaned toward her as well, only at the last second, she realized it wasn’t for a kiss. He was struggling to stay upright.

“Are you all right?” She watched as he clutched at a drainpipe for balance, clearly reluctant to put his foot down.

“Damn it. There’s glass all over the place here.” Broken glass glittered with the rain when the light struck it, and Ellie winced at the thought of trying to walk through the alley barefoot. Jack’s breath caught sharply and he pressed a hand over his shoulder again.

“Guess that’s less of a problem when you’re a leopard.” She folded her arms over her chest, shivering a little as the damp uniform pressed against her skin. Okay. She felt a little sorry for him. After all, he’d been hurt coming to her aid. Any sympathy she might have expressed, however, withered at his next words.

“Look, I don’t think it’s an accident those guys tried to kidnap you tonight. I think they’ll be back, soon, possibly in greater numbers. We need to go.”

“Go where?” She raked him over with her eyes. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going back inside. After I finish my work and clock out, I’m going home.”

“You can’t go home. They could be waiting there for you. You need to come with me.” Rounding his shoulders, he shot a baleful glare at the sky. He shook the water out of his eyes and focused his intense gaze on her. “Ellie, this is serious. You have to trust me on this one. I’ll explain later, but right now, we have to get out of here. Where is your car?”

“I can’t just walk out. I’m not finished with work.”

The door to the diner banged against the wall, making her jump. Henry stood silhouetted in the light as he peered out into the alley. “Ellie? You out here?”

She quickly glanced at Jack, but he was no longer there. Despite his injuries, he’d moved faster than humanly possible, and blended once more into the shadows.

“I’m here. I’m okay.”

Henry shielded his eyes against the rain. “What’s keeping you out in this weather, girl?”

Mouth open, Ellie started to blurt out what had happened, only something instinctively made her shut down. She had no idea where Henry stood on shifters. And besides, how could she explain the attack on her without involving the police—and Jack?

“I found a hurt cat. I’m… I need to take it to the emergency clinic. I’m sorry, Henry. May I go?”

Henry tossed his hands up in resignation. “I’ll clock out for you. Go. But don’t spend all your money on some mangy alley cat, you hear?” The screen door rattled as he let it fall shut again.

“I resent that.” Jack’s voice, whisper-soft, somehow carried through the darkness to her ears. “I do not have mange.”

The urge to giggle was almost overwhelming. Ruthlessly, she suppressed it. It made no sense to trust the word of a naked stranger bleeding in the alley, but after all, he was bleeding because of her. And whether she admitted it or not, her lie to Henry meant on some level she believed Jack. “Come on.” She walked past the recessed entranceway where Jack must be hiding, headed for the street. “The van’s this way.”

She glanced back only once. Jack limped along silently, walking on the edge of one foot. If he was leaving bloody footprints, they were being washed away by the rain.

At the end of the alley, where it opened onto the street, Jack hung back. “I don’t suppose you could pull around?” He craned his head around the end of the building to see if anyone was out there.

“Oh, now you’re shy.”

“I just don’t want to get arrested for public indecency.” The look in his green eyes was deadly serious. “That could be… awkward.”

“Where exactly did you say you left your clothes?”

“Not close at hand. I was in the park when I heard you cry out for help. I came as fast as I could. I can shift into leopard form if your car isn’t nearby. I don’t want to leave you unprotected.”

“You think a black leopard will attract less attention than a naked man?”

“No.” Just a hint of amusement was back in his voice. “But people tend to run away from leopards.”

She snorted at that. “I’m just across the street. Wait here.”

Before he could argue, she splashed through puddles as she dashed across the road. The key slipped into the ignition and she turned on both the wipers and the heater. Odd that only minutes before, she was roasting. Now her teeth chattered as she put the car in gear and made a U-turn in the street. Reaction was setting in. The drenching rain and the sudden drop in temperature didn’t help. She pulled up in front of the alley.

Jack opened the back door and slid into the seat almost before she’d come to a complete stop. She wondered why he didn’t sit up front but wasn’t going to ask. Just as well. She probably would have found it impossible not to gawk at his nakedness if he had. It wasn’t that she was a prude. People simply didn’t walk around in their birthday suits where she grew up.

“Where to?” At least she could act as if she were taking the whole situation in stride. “There’s a blanket back there if you want to, uh, you know… cover up.”

“Mighty obliged.” Amusement was definitely audible now. His accent strengthened as well, the way hers did when she was tired or when she had to raise her voice so elderly customers could hear her. Maybe he was a Carolina boy after all. She wouldn’t have pegged him for it when she’d first met him.

“It’s the least I can do. Seeing as you got shot defending me and all.” She glanced back at him through the rearview mirror and was shocked by the strong sense of connection when their gazes locked.

“We can leave my bike in the park for now, but I need my clothes. I want my cell phone. After that, there’s a safe place we can go.” He gave her the address.

“Who are you?” That question should have occurred to her long ago, but somehow did not. She was asking now, though. She was going to get some answers before she went anywhere with him.

“I work for an investigative service. Our specialty is shifters. Your grandfather, Sieger Gyrfalcon, hired my firm to find you, and then see you safely home.”

“You people have your own investigative services?”

“‘You people.’ You make it sound like we’re from another planet. And like it or not, you’re one of us.”

The hell she was. She chose to ignore that for now and put the van in gear. “Sieger. What kind of name is that?”

“It’s not a name. It’s a title. A title.” Weariness dragged at his words when Jack repeated himself. “Your grandfather’s name is Viktor de Winter.”

“A title?” Ellie pulled out into the street, heading for the park. Jack’s pronouncement caught her off guard, and the car veered to the right until she concentrated on steering again. “What kind of title? Is that like the CEO of a company or something?”

“Not hardly.” Jack gave a tired chuckle. “More like the ruler of a kingdom.”

“What?” Ellie would have whipped her head around, only she was nearly blinded by the headlights of an oncoming car. The wipers couldn’t keep up with the downpour, even on the highest setting, and the glare of the light on the wet windshield made her squint until the other car passed.

Jack didn’t answer. Ellie stretched up to look in the rearview mirror, and saw him sprawled against the backseat of the car. He’d pulled the blanket partly over him, but had left his injured shoulder bare. Blood trickled out between his fingers as he put pressure over the wound.

Flesh wound, indeed.

He looked utterly spent. What if a major artery had been nicked? He could bleed out in her car as she drove. As though he felt her gaze upon him, he opened his lids. Grass-green eyes burned into hers through the mirror.

“You need to go to a hospital.”

“I need to shift.” Jack sighed. “I’ll heal faster if shifted. I’m no good to you like this as it is. At least as a panther, I can come to your aid if you’re attacked again. My bike is in the lot by the pond. If you could just get my clothes—” As she watched him through the mirror, he seemed on the verge of dozing off—or passing out—she wasn’t sure which. His words slurred a little when he spoke again. “Make sure we’re not being followed.”

“Pond. Bike. Clothes. Lose any tail. Got it.” She stopped staring at him long enough to turn into the park entrance. When she looked back in the mirror, an enormous black leopard took up the rear seat of her van. To her surprise, it was sound asleep.

It also snored.

She would so remind him of this at some point.

She pulled around to the parking area beside the lake. Between the rain and the lateness of the hour, the park was empty. Not even the usual dog-walkers were out. Jack’s motorcycle was in the last space, sheltered somewhat by a row of trees. She spied his pile of clothing by a park bench, nearly flattened by the pelting rain. She left the motor running and the door open as she hurried over to grab his things. They were surprisingly heavy. Scooping them up the best she could, she dashed back to the van and dove in, slamming the door shut behind her.

The leopard in the rear seat smacked his lips a few times and began snoring again.

With a disbelieving snort, Ellie entered the address Jack had given her into her phone’s mapping service, and drove out of the parking lot. The rain still hammered down, keeping most people with any sense indoors and off the roads. The windshield wipers flapped helplessly against the onslaught of the storm. She crept along, worried she might hit something before she saw it. From time to time she anxiously checked the rearview mirror. No headlights popped up to indicate they were being followed. Finally, after what seemed like hours, she pulled up into the driveway of a nondescript house in a quiet neighborhood.

She killed the engine and twisted in her seat to look back at the leopard. He sat up with a mighty yawn, baring seriously impressive canines. Long whiskers curled forward as the yawn was completed, and then Jack, with his leopard’s gleaming eyes, watched her quietly.

It was unnerving. At the same time, it was thrilling.

“You’re awake. Good. We’re here.” She got out and opened the rear door. It was still raining hard. The two of them, black leopard and woman, ran for the porch stairs.