Chapter 8
Flynn hit the gas. They bounced over the last couple hundred yards of gravel, and pulled into a big clearing full of lights and chaos. Through the downpour, Kira got a confused impression of a two-story log cabin with a bunch of outbuildings and a crap-ton of people and animals in the front yard, fighting and screaming at each other.
In the center of the grassy lawn, a snow leopard, a spotted jaguar and a black panther faced off, hissing and snarling. The panther rushed the snow leopard with a bloodcurdling scream, raking at him with three-inch claws. The jaguar leaped at the panther just before he slammed into the snow leopard, knocking him aside. Blood dripped from claw gouges on all three cats, pink and diluted on their wet matted fur.
Overhead, a soaked and very angry snowy owl screeched and dive-bombed the panther, who ducked aside and gave a furious yowl.
Between the brawl and the house paced the hugest fracking grizzly Kira had ever seen—or even imagined—glowing with a faint silver-blue light and looking way too agitated for comfort.
Flynn hit the brakes so hard Kira’s seatbelt restraint kicked in, making her gasp for breath as it cut across her chest.
“Jesus fuck,” he muttered. “What now?”
He slammed out of the truck and strode towards the fight, not even bothering to close the truck door behind him. The rain and the thunder were so loud Kira could barely hear the screaming and snarls, but she could sure as hell hear Flynn’s pissed-off roar.
“That’s enough! Everybody stand down!”
They all froze except the panther. He leaped at the leopard again, but somehow Flynn was there between them, moving so fast he was a blur. He bitch-slapped the panther right out of the air with his bare hands and stood over him, hands on hips, thundering, “Xander! Get a fucking grip! NOW!”
Flynn was still shirtless, and his chest muscles rippled in the rain, making Kira swallow hard. Blue light flickered around his body, and alpha dominance rolled through the clearing. Kira almost lost her breath from the force of it.
Xander rolled to his feet and crouched, giving out a frustrated panther scream. Everyone else just stood there, panting and bleeding.
Flynn glanced over toward the porch. “Lissa?” he called. “What the fuck is going on?”
Kira rose to her knees on the seat and strained to see past the giant pacing grizzly. Behind him, she could just catch a glimpse of the top of a woman’s head. The rest of her was obscured by the bear.
“Short version?” she yelled back. “Sloan was practicing coaxing his leopard out during the storm. Brandon did a ninja escape so he could watch, big crack of thunder, leopard goes wild, Brandon freaks and takes off into the woods. Xander tries to kill Sloan for scaring his kid, etcetera, etcetera.” She paused, then added, “Jenny and Brody are looking for Brandon.”
Flynn rolled his eyes and glared at the panther, who was still snarling at the leopard. “Xander,” he snapped. “Forget Sloan. Get your fucking dad shit together. Brandon and Jenny need you.”
The panther looked back and forth between Flynn and the leopard. He made a plaintive growling sound in his throat, and Kira could see him struggling to get himself under control. Finally, with a last angry yowl at Sloan, he turned and bounded off into the woods.
“Caitlyn, go with them.” The giant owl, now perched on the tailgate of one of the pickup trucks scattered around the clearing, ruffled her feathers and shook her head.
Flynn sighed. “I’ll take care of Sloan,” he said.
Kira’s intel flickered through her mind again. The leopard and the owl were mates, which explained her concern. Caitlyn screeched in protest, but she took off and glided into the woods.
“Tank.” Flynn turned to the bear. “Can you go too and—”
He broke off, staring at the bear, who was still pacing back and forth in front of the log cabin, flickering with silver light and growling. “What the fuck is wrong with Tank?”
“He won’t leave me,” Lissa said. “He’s gone all Protector mode.”
“Hell,” Flynn said. “I don’t even want to know. I guess the rest of them can handle it.”
A bright flash of lightning ripped through the clearing, and another huge crack of thunder. The snow leopard bolted under the porch.
“Fucking thunderstorms,” Flynn muttered. “Fucking Xander. Fucking fucked-up leopards.”
He looked around and his eyes lit on the truck. He dropped his head back and sighed, as if he’d forgotten about Kira and was not happy being reminded.
Awesome. Back from the dead, and she was still forgettable. She waved. “Yep,” she said. “Still here.”
“Well, get out of the truck and go the fuck inside, Princess,” he said. “Or are you expecting me to lay my cloak over the puddles and carry you across?”
She gave him the finger. He might be alpha, but she was a goddamned princess. She didn’t have to take his shit.
“It’s pouring,” she said. “And there’s a big-ass bear in the way.”
The jaguar gave Kira a contemptuous look and leaped gracefully over the bear onto the porch. She Changed into a lithe, slender woman with long black hair.
Oh, fine. Leaps tall grizzlies in a single bound. It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s Supercat.
Flynn stepped up to the porch, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging it in frustration. Damn, Kira thought, that was one big bear—Flynn’s head only came up to the thing’s shoulder. It was still glowing with some kind of magic, too.
Flynn stared the bear down. “Don’t make me go lion and bitch-slap you too,” he said. “I already got shot tonight, and I’m in no mood.”
The bear—Tank—took a step back as if in surprise, and then stretched his neck out and nosed Flynn’s bullet wound, snuffling.
“It’s fine,” Flynn said. “But if you’d back off and let me and Princess get out of the goddamn rain, that would be fucking fantastic. Nobody here is going to hurt Lissa.”
That sounded reassuring, until he added, “The crazy part of this crew is all in the woods.”
Awesome.
“Except you,” the jaguar said to Flynn, wringing out her hair. She jerked her chin toward Kira. “And the jury’s still out on her.”
The bear turned his enormous head and stared at Kira. She stepped out of the truck—getting immediately soaked by buckets of rain—and held her hands up, palms out. “Um…I come in peace?”
Except for all the weapons hidden on her person. Hopefully, he couldn’t see those. Or smell them.
The bear gave a disbelieving huff, but Flynn smacked his shoulder and he backed away from the porch steps, still hugging the rail.
Poised to draw her knives if necessary, Kira squelched across the yard and walked up the porch steps. Flynn stayed between her and the bear, which was both reassuring (he was willing to protect her) and…not. (He still thought Tank might attack.)
For a minute she felt bad about him using himself as a shield for her, but hey, this was his crew. If he couldn’t keep them in line, he deserved to get bitten. And anyway, throwing his body between her and bears with four-inch claws and paws the size of dinner plates was his job, wasn’t it? At least…it had been, once upon a time.
The entryway to the cabin had a clothes pegs along one wall, hung with jackets and shirts of all sizes, with a shelf underneath holding folded-up sweats and a stack of fluffy towels, black and maroon randomly mixed together. Below that was a jumbled mess of shoes and boots.
Jasmin grabbed a towel and tossed one to Kira. “Here you go, Princess,” she said.
Kira rolled her eyes. “Don’t you start.”
Jasmin just snorted and toweled herself off, dabbing at a couple of her deeper cuts to soak up the last of the blood.
“Nice towels,” Kira said, wiping off her face and neck. They were—fluffy and soft and absorbent. And in nice practical colors. “You don’t even have to worry about bloodstains.”
Jasmin gave her a feral grin. “That’s the point.”
They purposely bought towels in colors that didn’t show blood? “How often to you all bleed each other?”
“What’s the matter, Princess? Scared of a fight?” Jasmin asked.
Kira slid a knife out of her right sleeve, tossed it in the air, caught it again, and made it vanish back up her sleeve. “I just like to know who I’m dealing with.”
That got a real grin, and a shrug. Jasmin snagged an oversized flannel shirt off the pegboard and slid it on. It came down almost to her knees. “What’s Saturday night without a brawl? Just because you already had yours, you shouldn’t begrudge the rest of us.” She eyed Kira speculatively. “Careless of you to get Flynn shot, though.”
Flynn. He hadn’t followed them inside. Kira went to the door and saw him sitting on the top step of the porch, getting rained on. He’d coaxed the leopard out from under the porch and had his arm slung over its back, his big hand ruffling the fur on its neck. He was talking softly to the cat, who still tensed at every rumble of thunder, every flash of lightning.
This was not what she’d expected from the badass Bad Bloods.
She heard Jasmin come up behind her. “What’s with the leopard?” Kira asked.
“PTSD,” Jasmin said brusquely. “From one of his Special Ops missions. Mortar fire, destruction, trauma, death. Thunder and lightning still freak him out.”
“Oh,” Kira said softly. Flynn’s kindness to those he cared about was another thing she hadn’t expected. Not from a Lion Guard. Their training was harsh, and they despised cowardice. She’d heard that in the Guard, those who “couldn’t handle combat stress” had been drummed out in disgrace.
Maybe he really had left his past behind. Maybe he couldn’t be who she needed.
Maybe he didn’t want to.
“Everybody has their issues, Princess,” Jasmin said. “Here. Toss these out to Tank and Lissa, would you?”
She held out more dry towels.
At the other end of the porch, the bear had turned into a pro-wrestler-sized, very hot, very naked man. Lissa, a petite dark-haired woman, was perched on the porch rail next to him, snuggled into his chest. Their heads were together, foreheads touching as they talked softly.
They obviously loved each other deeply. It sent a pang through Kira. Nobody had ever loved her like that. And, if she fulfilled her mission and mated with Flynn, nobody ever would. Her gaze strayed to his strong, muscled back, and the obvious affection in the way he comforted the leopard, shoring him up with his own strength.
“Earth to Princess,” Jasmin said. When Kira didn’t respond, she shook her head, huffed, and pushed past her to lean out the door. “Bib Bear! Incoming!”
Bib Bear? They called a bear that size Bib Bear? Yikes.
Jasmin tossed the towels in his direction. Tank plucked them out of the air without looking away from Lissa. “Thanks,” he rumbled.
“De nada.” Then she glanced at Kira. “You gonna stand there all night salivating over Flynn’s muscles, or are you going to come inside and make yourself useful?”