You're Kitten Me (4 page)

No, he was concerned about him and Veronica. Because one male slammed his body against Braden’s door—keeping him captive—while the other reached for Veronica’s door.

Rage overcame him in a rush of fire. It suffused his body, filling him from head to toe as his tiger raced forward. It recognized the need for hands and feet, but all else was in its control. The males attacking their vehicle—and they were attacking—were a threat to their mate. Whether his human mind accepted her or not, the cat had staked its claim and refused to be denied. Veronica was theirs to care for, and these men endangered her.

A ripple of fur sprouted to coat his flesh, fingers aching and then breaking to transition into half-formed claws. His fangs burst from his gums, feline maw reshaping his mouth. His vision changed, sharpening while losing some of the ability to distinguish color.

He didn’t need to see in full color to destroy the men who threatened Veronica.

The humans shouted, urging each other to hurry up and grab the bitch.

Veronica’s door swung wide, and her snarl reached out to him, urging his cat to come forward even further. Their mate was threatened, scared, and needed them.

The male leaning against the front door was nothing to the tiger. He pulled on the handle and then shoved the piece of metal, slamming it into the body trying to keep it closed. The human stumbled, feet sliding on the pebbled surface before finally falling to his knees. The cat wanted to pounce and rip out the attacker’s throat, but he wasn’t the one holding Veronica.

Someone else held her captive, one arm around her waist while the other pressed a knife to her neck.

“B-b-back off. Don’t come closer.” Sweat peppered the stranger’s brow, dampening his dark brown hair, and Braden didn’t miss the way the blade trembled against Veronica’s skin.

His tiger growled low, the sound rolling free of his chest to fill the air. Movement behind the human drew his attention for less than a second—Gannon and Murphy. A short shake of his head had both males freezing in place, but he knew they were just as furious as him. That humans
dared
…

Bushes rustled to his right, reminding him the guy on the ground was intent on escaping. He focused on Murphy and flicked his attention toward the tree line. The tiger took off without a word, soundlessly slipping into the dense forest, Veronica’s captor none the wiser.

Braden centered his attention on the male. “Let her go.”

He wanted to glance at Veronica and reassure her, but he couldn’t stand to see her fear. No, the stinging scent of her terror was enough to have the tiger straining against whatever control he had left over the beast. Looking at her would have the cat slipping his leash entirely.

“No, you guys leave. We just want her.”

He flexed his hands, his fingertips burning as the nails lengthened. The cat assured him they were faster than the human. “That’s not going to happen. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but taking her is not an option.”

“You need to back off. I mean it.” The male’s arm around Veronica’s waist tightened, and the blade pressed against her skin even harder. The wind changed direction, and instead of bringing him the sweet hint of her natural flavors, he got the coppery tang of her blood.

She whimpered, and he turned his attention ever so slightly to meet her terror-filled gaze. She was frozen by fear, the emotion immobilizing her muscles, and that enraged him further.

Was she a formidable she-wolf? Yes. But everyone had their demons, and Zoe had told him her best friend had more than a few of her own. Veronica could attack, but if
she
was attacked? His mate—because she could be nothing else—froze with fright.

“I’m going to take care of you,” he pushed the words past his tiger’s teeth. “Stay calm.”

“I’m taking her with me. Not losing out on that money. Let me go or I’ll kill her.” Panic made the human sweat even more, the liquid trickling down his skin, and the aroma filled Braden’s lungs.

“No, you’re going to release her, and I promise to make your death as painless as possible. If you refuse, you will scream for days.” And Braden would ensure it without hesitation or remorse.

A scream from the forest, high-pitched and bloodcurdling, reached them, only to be immediately silenced. By death or unconsciousness?

He didn’t care. It was one less threat to Veronica.

The human trembled, more fear filling him. And the more distress the male felt, the calmer Braden became. His rage transformed from burning hot to ice cold, solidifying and banishing all other emotions. The tiger asserted itself further. His muscles bunched and grew, expanding until they stretched his shirt taut across his chest.

“Let her go or end up like your friend.”

“My brother,” the human whispered and then turned hard eyes on Braden. “Did you just kill him? Oh god, you things killed my brother. I’m going to—”

He was going to do nothing because Braden read his intent. Braden saw the way the tip of the blade dipped while the man squeezed the handle even tighter. Braden saw the press of the stranger’s lips as determination filled him and his eyes brightened with tears.

A glance at Gannon had them working in concert. When Braden rushed forward, his cat assisting him with sudden speed, his friend did the same. Braden’s target was Veronica, his paws reaching for her and yanking her from the human’s grasp while the other tiger snapped the human’s neck in one rough twist. The crack seemed to echo through the air, the sound a final pronouncement of the attacker’s death.

Veronica clung to him, silent sobs racking her body as she huddled against his larger frame. Her fingers dug into his shirt and she fisted the material to pull him even closer. He carefully wrapped his arms around her, aware of his strength in this shape and unwilling to harm her.

“I have you,” he rumbled, the tiger making the words difficult to say. “Shhh… I have you.”

That was when the real world intruded. That was when the reporters, running and invading, shouted their questions and zoomed in on the mess surrounding them.

Zoomed in on the blood.

Zoomed in on the dead.

Zoomed in on Braden’s long fangs as he hissed at them.

Their fluffy kitty PR campaign? Yeah, that just died.

Ronnie couldn’t stop stroking her neck, petting the skin. Even now the wound was healed and completely gone, but she couldn’t stop. The pain, the ache, the unending roll of throbbing agony remained fresh in her mind. It’d been different from other wounds she’d experienced in the past and she wondered if there was something weird with the blade. No, it was a hunk of metal like any other. It was her head screwing with her because she’d been such a pussy. Her wolf had assisted with healing her body, but her mind’s betrayal lingered.

She’d frozen up. Again. Danger had threatened, males attempting to overpower her, and she’d become a statue. Braden hadn’t scolded her for not breaking free of the human’s hold. He hadn’t said a word, really. Not to her. He’d simply enveloped her in his firm embrace and held her close. A few softly worded orders had the other two men handling what remained of their attackers. While that was managed, Braden urged her into the vehicle, hands never leaving her skin.

He’d cradled her until Gannon and Murphy rejoined them, not letting go until they pulled up to the pride’s den. It was only when Zoe appeared and yanked her forward that he finally released her. As she clung to her best friend, trembles overtaking her once more, he’d leaned close.

“I have to speak with Ares. Let Zoe look after you. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

It was a promise… and a threat? She wasn’t sure she wanted to see Braden again—because she was embarrassed. She was a big bad wolf afraid of humans.

Death was a part of shifter life. She’d seen werewolf challenges. Hell, she’d watched her own father rip out the throat of a feral wolf. A snapped human neck was nothing.

The thought sounded horrible, even heartless to some, but it was simply the truth of a violent existence.

Ronnie stroked her skin once more. She missed his touch. Missed his callused fingers scraping her. His expression, as she was pulled away, would have scared a lesser wolf, but she wasn’t frightened. Not when she knew the reason for his anger was because she was taken from him.

“How are you doing?” Zoe’s murmur drew her back to the present, and she turned her head to meet her best friend’s gaze.

The smile was easy to adopt, but the matching emotion was nowhere to be found. She’d fake it ‘til she made it. That was the saying, right? “I’m good.”

“Uh-huh.” The newly turned tigress raised her eyebrows. “Right,” she drawled. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

Ronnie shrugged and focused on the cup in front of her. Why did people hand out cups of coffee during times of stress? Like a freaked out wolf needed caffeine.
Sure
, that’d make an emotional shifter all better. Man, she was a sarcastic bitch.

She wasn’t going to complain about being handed the mug. It gave her something to do with her trembling hands.

She cupped the ceramic, her claw-tipped thumbs scraping the hard surface. “A shifter’s life is filled with death, Z. You’ll learn that.” She snorted. “You
have
learned that.”

Zoe had ripped the throat out of a human attempting to harm Ares and Claire not long ago.

“Let’s be honest here, Ronnie. This is a little more than everyday violence.”

Ronnie swallowed the growl that came with her friend’s correction. The wolf saw Zoe’s words as a challenge—the woman was basically calling her a liar—and she had to stomp on the animal’s gut reaction. Instead, she kept her wide smile, careful not to pull her lips too far back and expose her lengthened fangs. She rolled her eyes for good measure. “Whatever, whoreface. You’ve been a furball for all of a minute. While you were learning to walk, I was learning to catch bunnies for dinner.”

Zoe snorted. “And you ended up getting your nose bitten by Bobby down the street. Bunnies are vicious.”

That had her mock glaring. Well, mostly mock. “It’s not my fault a rabbit shifter thought it’d be fun to play on pack lands.” Ronnie sniffed. “I was protecting my territory.”

“The playground was not your territory, and he turned into a bunny because you bit him while he was still human. Then he got you, and you whined like a baby.”

“I hate you, and I hate your stupid face.” She broke off a piece of her donut and threw it at her best friend. This, at least, pushed away some of the fear still consuming her.

Zoe didn’t miss a beat and leaned down to catch the treat in her mouth. “You love me. Don’t lie.”

“You wish.” Ronnie popped a piece past her own lips and latched onto the “love” part of her friend’s statement. Anything to change the subject to something a lot less personal. “Speaking of loving, I still think you should have experimented more in college.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Our Resident Assistant totally had the hots for you.”

Okay, that was personal, but whatever.

“I’m talking about emotions, bitch.”

“Oh, there would have been a lot of emotions.” Another waggle.

The woman reached across the wide counter and snatched the half-eaten donut out of her hand. Ronnie had to fight the urge to snap at Zoe’s fingers. “Our RA did
not
have the hots for me.”

A small tendril of
something
slipped into the air. Disappointment? Ronnie’s jaw dropped and her eyes opened wide. “Oh my god.” She shoved the mug away and leaned across the granite. “Oh. My. God.” Now Zoe’s embarrassment joined the sliver of emotional pain and Ronnie lowered her voice to a whisper. “You totally tried to get it on with Hottie RA in school, didn’t you?”

This was so much better than the fear clinging to her skin like an oily cloak.

Zoe wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar, you totally do. I can’t believe you didn’t say anything!” Ronnie gasped and pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m shocked you kept this from me. I’m mortally
wounded
, even.” She narrowed her eyes. “When exactly did you get shot down? Because we spent every weekend together and—”

Zoe stared at her coffee mug, face reddening with every passing beat, and she took a sip. “You know, this is ancient history—”

“Less than ten years!”

“—so I think we should focus on a certain wolf’s secrets instead.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It was Ronnie’s turn to take a sip of coffee and pretend she was oblivious. No way was she discussing her emotional baggage. Not when the events of the last few hours were still fresh.

“You know, I can’t separate many scents with my kitty sniffer, but I know what lust smells like.” Zoe grinned. “If you won’t talk about what happened today,” a hint of sadness filled her best friend’s eyes for a moment and then Zoe brushed it aside, “why don’t you tell me about getting all hot and stinky for a certain tiger?”

“Stinky? Really?” Ronnie glared. “I’m not saying I have feelings that affect my pink taco, but I’m telling you my lady garden smells like rose petals and rainbows.”

Zoe wrinkled her nose. “Seriously? No.” She shook her head. “Lady garden? Pink taco? I don’t even… Anyway, nothing about your ‘lady garden’ is rose petals and rainbows.” Her friend’s eyes suddenly twinkled. “As proved by the aforementioned Bobby because in eleventh grade you farted on him while he was downtow—”

Ronnie didn’t think, she just pounced, launching herself across the counter with a growl. “Oh my god, you bitch! You were supposed to take that to the grave!”

Zoe screeched, Ronnie growled, Zoe laughed as they rolled across the kitchen floor and Ronnie chuckled with pure joy. The mug crashed to the ground, shattering and sending coffee spraying into the air. A stool toppled, the donuts went flying (
such a travesty
) and she was pretty sure she broke a nail. She was so telling her daddy about that one. The pussy’s ass was grass.

Okay, none of that really mattered because she was laughing and giggling and she managed to tickle Zoe’s stomach and pull her hair at the same time while Zoe…