Savage Sanctuary 2: Panther Moon (3 page)

So here she was driving through central Texas on bald tires and a gas tank full of

fumes. At one point, she’d managed to find a sleepy, little convenience store where

she’d pumped half a tank of gas using a twenty she’d found in the glove box. Barefoot, no purse, no money. Pitiful! But in the dead of night with rifles firing in her direction, 16

Panther Moon

she’d had no time to plan
jack
. She’d snatched the keys hanging by the kitchen door and made it to the truck, escaping just as the men rounded the back of the house. Kicking up gravel as she’d peeled out of the driveway, she’d gotten the hell out of there before they had a chance to reload and go after her again.

Though hours had passed, she was still terrified. Behind her, some distance away,

she saw a pair of headlights and inwardly she flinched. That’s the way it had been all night. Unmated as she was, she hadn’t gone through the shift but her senses had always been keen. Yes, they were coming and they wouldn’t stop until they’d ended her life.

It was a hideous game to them now and she knew damn good and well that Tom

Hawkins had always hated her. From the moment he’d pursued her in high school and

she’d politely declined, he’d watched her with hate-filled eyes. Now he was out for

blood. He knew what she was and wouldn’t stop until he’d taken her down.

Though she was part cat, Trea was pretty sure she didn’t have nine lives. Nerves

tore through her, shredding what little composure she had left. It was probably nothing, but her intuition told her the enemy was gaining ground on her and she had no time to spare.

Up ahead and to her right, she saw heavy limestone markers rising into the night

sky on either side of a paved road. She knew this was the place because years ago her parents had made her memorize a map to Sanctuary and the home of Titus Declan,

King of the Turquoise Moon panther tribe. The words Turquoise Moon Ranch, worked

in elegant ironwork scroll stretched across the road from pillar to pillar. This was no ranch. No cattle roamed here but from stories she’d heard, their king fostered the image of an eccentric billionaire. A ranch with no cattle? Apparently the nearest neighbors shrugged it off. Instead of raising beeves, her king collected were panthers, his people, for protection in an often cruel world.

A wild, frantic glance at the gas gauge of the old truck sent fear dancing wicked

fingers over her body. Breath froze in her throat as her heartbeat picked up its pace. She was almost there when
almost there
just wasn’t good enough. If the hunters were behind 17

Regina Carlysle

her, she would lead them straight to the haven of her people and she’d inadvertently

expose them all. Trea pressed on the gas, frantic in her need to reach her destination when suddenly the truck sputtered and coughed.

Shit!

Maneuvering it to the side of the road, she banged her fists on the steering wheel in abject frustration then spared a glance behind her. The lights were now obscured by a bend in the road. Fighting off weariness she welcomed the surge of adrenaline that

raced through her system as she pushed open the truck door and stepped out. The

pavement was hot beneath her bare feet as she started to run. Dense woods surrounded

her and unerringly, she headed into them and away from the Turquoise Moon

compound. Twigs and brush scraped her calves but she fisted her hands and barreled

forward. They might find her abandoned truck but they wouldn’t find her, not if she

could help it.

Many times as a child, she’d run joyfully over the land surrounding the house she’d

shared with her parents. Back then, she’d known that one day her panther would

surpass her human boundaries and break free to live and hunt the area. She knew every rock and tree but this was different. There was nothing more confusing at the moment

than this unfamiliar land. Cursing her lack of knowledge, she stumbled on an exposed

tree root and slammed to the ground.

The air burst from her lungs as she lay, belly down on the rough ground. In the

distance she heard the roar of a heavy-duty truck. They were almost upon her. It

wouldn’t take them long to spot her abandoned vehicle.

She heard the sound of truck doors slamming. Dogs bayed in the distance, their

whines mingling with heavy, male voices. Dogs? Why hadn’t she noticed them before?

The trauma of everything that had happened tonight had certainly clouded her

perceptions of things.

18

Panther Moon

Tears of frustration burned her eyes and just as she managed to plant her elbows on

the ground and lift her upper body, a pair of rough hands grabbed her shoulders and

flipped her to her back.

Pale eyes, set in a face half man, half panther, stared down at her. Lethal fangs

flashed white and a coughing sound burst from his lungs as he bent over her, poised to strike. Obviously he’d been hunting and now he was caught somewhere between a

shift, giving him a monstrously feral appearance. The scent of him whipped through

her head and instantly heated her blood. She stilled. He was naked. Long, dark brown

hair brushed his sturdy shoulders and his nostrils flared as he caught her scent. His eyes widened.

“Where the fuck did you come from?” he growled low. “And why do you smell so

delicious
?”

The air returned to her lungs in a rush as terror took hold. She opened her mouth to

scream but it quickly died when a shot rang out. Chantrea jerked at the crack of sound but before she could utter a sound, panther man swept her up. Following instinct, she wrapped her arms around his sturdy neck and held on. “I can walk,” she managed.

“Fuck that. Hang on, darlin’. We’re getting the hell out of here.”

Scenery passed in a blur of light and shadow as he raced through the woods, the

preternatural strength and speed of their kind propelling them forward. This massive

man-beast was like her and offered a bit of comfort. It only made sense since they were so close to the Turquoise Moon enclave. The fact he was completely nude was another

little hint.

Oh yeah, and the half man, half cat face thing he had going on.

“I shouldn’t trust you. You’re a stranger.”

He huffed a breath sparing her a single glance from eyes that appeared so pale blue

they were almost colorless. “And I suppose you’re bosom buddies with those assholes

who are shooting at us?”

“You’ve got a point.”

19

Regina Carlysle

“I usually do. For now though, I’d appreciate you being a little quieter.”

Any other time, she’d have told him to kiss her butt but now wasn’t the time to

shoot off her big mouth. She held on, burying her face into the curve of his neck as they escaped from the men who hunted her as if she were an animal.

Well, she
was
an animal. But then she wasn’t.

Ordinarily she’d be scared out of her mind but she couldn’t concentrate on fear as

this beast’s masculine scent whipped through her senses. She’d never been around men

much considering her parents had kept her sheltered and isolated from the outside

world for most of her life. Instantly intoxicated by his smell, she noted the racing of blood through her veins, the heat that melted her core and drenched her panties.

Lust!

Ah, yes, she’d heard of the concept. She’d never thought she’d experience it for the

first time while running for her life. The fact she was so near her
time
wasn’t helping matters. Risking a glance at him she saw that his feline features had evened out into a face of pure, raw, masculine beauty. His hair was thick and dark, the color of coffee, and board-straight as it fell past his shoulders. Fierce, dark brows were drawn down

above those spooky-as-hell eyes. His nose was large, masculine above a startlingly

sensual mouth. Shadows accentuated the slashes of his cheekbones giving him a

menacing look. He was the most arresting man she had ever seen.

A flash, a vision perhaps, zipped through her mind as she imagined those lips

taking hers in a bone-melting kiss. But then the sexy vision died a quick death as he yanked open the door of a black truck, dumped her unceremoniously in the seat, and

raced around to climb behind the wheel.

There was something stranger than strange about sitting next to the naked man as

he jammed the key into the ignition and revved the engine of the truck. She noticed he didn’t turn on the lights but whipped the vehicle around and drove them down a dirt

road, a path really, that wound its way through the woods.

20

Panther Moon

A shot rang out, quickly followed by another but the sound was further away than

before.

“Do you have a car somewhere?” There was urgency in his voice but he didn’t look

at her, keeping his gaze on the winding path. A muscle worked in his jaw. “Answer me, woman! Do you have a car?”

The snap of his words brought her back to her senses. “A truck. Parked out on the

highway not far from those big, limestone pillars. I ran out of gas and those guys were after me. I didn’t want to lead them to the king.”

The man went still and shot her a look. “Good thinking. You’re one of us.”

Trea nodded. “Yes.”

“I figured.”

The crazy men who’d chased her all the way from east Texas were still shooting but

the sounds were farther and farther away now. The handsome wild-man next to her

reached between them on the seat and grabbed a cell phone. Within a second, his voice rumbled through the cab. “Kev, this is Hudson. There is a truck parked near the

compound entrance. Get someone out there to make the damn thing disappear. It’s out

of gas. Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Trea heard a male voice on the other end but couldn’t

make out what he was saying. “Be careful. There are hunters in the woods and bullets

are flying. I’m taking the woman to my place until things settle down.”

His place?

Trea sat up straighter and watched him disconnect, knowing she had no choice but

to go wherever he chose to take her. Until Tom Hawkins and his redneck buddy were

off her tail and everyone else was safe, it was best she go with someone who actually seemed to know what hell he was doing. She barely noticed where they went. All she

knew was it was the dead of night, she was in the woods and a sexy, naked man was

driving.

Holding on to the door’s armrest as they bounced over ruts in the path, she went

quiet and prayed this man could get them the hell out of harm’s way. The events of the 21

Regina Carlysle

past hours swept through her. She began to tremble. Her teeth chattered so she bit

down hard hoping he wouldn’t hear. Though this man was a stranger, the last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a weak woman who couldn’t handle herself in a

crisis.

Finally they drew up in front a large, limestone house that featured a high, gabled

roofline. Even in the darkness she couldn’t help but admire it, realizing how much

bigger it was than the modest house where she’d grown up. She noted the wide front

porch and heavy iron urns filled with blood-red geraniums guarding either side of the front door. Windows boxes held more of the colorful flowers and she shot her

companion a glance, wondering for a moment about a man who looked so big and

rough yet bothered to plant flowers.

“Home sweet home,” he said as he hit a button on the sun visor to open the door of

a two-car garage. Neither of them moved until it shut again and they were engulfed in a darkness thick enough to cut with a knife. Trea heard him draw in another deep breath and then he whipped his gaze in her direction. “Are you okay?”

She managed a nod but the shaking worsened.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the house.”

Trea blinked and gulped a breath. “Will we be safe here?”

“Yeah.”

Before she managed to get the door open he was there, helping her out. She

protested but he ignored her and lifted her in his arms to carry her from the garage into the dark kitchen. He paused for a minute to send his keys sliding along a countertop.

Seconds later they were in his living room.

The man who called himself Hudson settled her on a plush leather sofa and flipped

on a lamp that sent soft, golden color across the well-furnished room.

“How about we start with your name?”

“Chantrea. Chantrea Morgan.”

22

Panther Moon

He crouched naked in front of her and took her hands. Rubbing them gently, he

stared into her eyes and for the first time, she saw tenderness seep into them.

“Cambodian, isn’t it?” He cocked his head. His voice was as rough as sandpaper

but he spoke slowly as if he were trying hard to put her at ease.

“Um—”

“Your name is Cambodian. Means ‘light of the moon’.”

Trea sucked in a breath. “You know the language?”

“Yeah. I fought over there. I’ve been in both World Wars, Korea and Vietnam. I

actually first came here when I fought in the war for Texas Independence.”

“What is your name?”

“Hudson Cates. Want to tell me what happened to you tonight? You’re safe here. I

won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Delayed reaction hit her like a blast. Events, terrifying and intense, rose up,

threatening to choke her. But rather than answer his question she focused on something else as a vision of her father’s face in the moments before his death swam in her mind’s eye. “Did you know my father?” she whispered. “Brant Morgan? He was…um, in

Vietnam.”

“No, I’m sorry. I have heard the name though. Knew most of the shifters who