Книга - Her Wild Protector

Her Wild Protector
Naomi Bellina


Since waking up on the floor of her apartment after an electrical shock, Tara has felt…different. Colors a little off. Shadows where they shouldn't be. But hot guys glowing blue light and a cheetah drinking a cup of coffee? That's not something you see every day. And why doesn't anyone else seem to notice?The pillar of blue light is Marshall, a Metamorph–a human who can change at will into an animal or energy form. His human form is damn fine-looking, but that doesn't mean he isn't crazy, with his stories about belonging to a secret government agency and rogue Metamorphs trying to kill her. Plus he wears sunglasses indoors–who still does that? But when there's a panther scratching at her door, she has no choice but to trust Marshall, even if it means her life will never be the same.







Since waking up on the floor of her apartment after an electrical shock, Tara has felt…different. Colors a little off. Shadows where they shouldn’t be. But hot guys glowing blue light and a cheetah drinking a cup of coffee? That’s not something you see every day. And why doesn’t anyone else seem to notice?

The pillar of blue light is Marshall, a Metamorph—a human who can change at will into an animal or energy form. His human form is damn fine-looking, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t crazy, with his stories about belonging to a secret government agency and rogue Metamorphs trying to kill her. Plus he wears sunglasses indoors—who still does that? But when there’s a panther scratching at her door, she has no choice but to trust Marshall, even if it means her life will never be the same.


Her Wild Protector

Naomi Bellina












www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is dedicated to all the STARs who offered their words of wisdom. I love you guys!


Table of Contents (#ue7204cec-ad22-59fd-a376-ddffcc96f2d8)

Cover (#ub1ac4ee7-9346-5ff9-9d62-329c93654b71)

Title Page (#uad8f7c28-3cf7-5df6-9bed-66a6d2d8f9af)

Chapter One (#u92c64f91-b86d-5846-bfba-810cfc4f1d0e)

Chapter Two (#u8130c859-6860-5f10-afc3-70a30608dec0)

Chapter Three (#u2adbc990-9f4e-5b26-88ce-7c50d008a130)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ue7204cec-ad22-59fd-a376-ddffcc96f2d8)

Tara tore off her pantyhose and wadded them in a ball, throwing the sweaty garment on the floor. Who the hell wears pantyhose in Florida?Women with a demonic supervisor, that’s who. Tara’s daily attire usually consisted of comfortable, casual pants and a business-friendly top, but when visiting dignitaries invaded the Canaveral Port Authority office, her manager strongly suggested she don a dress and nylons.

As if the dignitary was going to make it all the way back to her little corner of the workplace. Most of the time, the officials were ushered into the conference room, where they spent an hour or two, and then were whisked away to the next destination. Tara often didn’t even know visitors were in the building and they certainly weren’t aware of her.

She dug in her refrigerator, wondering what else she could throw in a bowl of spaghetti to disguise the fact that it was leftover leftovers, and almost fell inside as a loud crash came from the apartment above. There was the sound of a woman’s laughter, and then rhythmic thumping began.

Tara moaned. Not again. The couple that lived upstairs frequently engaged in loud, raucous sex that went on and on, sometimes for over an hour. Though part of her was happy that someone was enjoying boisterous sex, the sounds were not only annoying, but they also served as a reminder of her own nonexistent love life. Normally she waited out the intercourse interlude, but today she was not up to dealing with it. There was no reason for all that noise. People who lived in apartments should have respect for their neighbors.

She grabbed a broom and jabbed the handle several times into her ceiling. The sounds from overhead ceased for a moment, then after another peel of laughter from the woman, they resumed. Tara debated continuing her assault with the broom, but decided against it. She didn’t know the couple and didn’t want to antagonize her neighbors. At least they were quiet most of the time.

Instead, she turned on the television to drown out the noise and flipped through the channels. She stopped when she came to a channel where a symphony played a haunting, melancholy tune. The classical song stirred a memory buried deep inside. Though she couldn’t place where and when she’d last heard the melody, she remembered holding the hand of her companion and smiling, content, as they listened. Tears pricked her eyelids and she forced them down. She’d cried quite enough in the past years.

The sounds of love from above grew louder and she jabbed the volume button on the remote control. Nothing happened. It probably needed new batteries—one more thing that hadn’t made it to the shopping list this week. Hauling herself off the couch, she pushed the control on the television set. Still nothing. This appliance was on its last leg, she knew, but she intended to nurse it along as long as she could. Surely, with a little tweaking, the volume could be made to work. Grabbing a screwdriver from the kitchen, she unfastened the back panel. The voice of reason told her to unplug the unit first, but if she did, she wouldn’t be able to hear to adjust the sound, she argued. Truthfully, she was impatient and wanted to drown out the racket from the lovebirds immediately.

There, that looked like a loose wire. If she could just wiggle it a little…

The second she touched it a jolt ran through her body. She yelped and backed away, and as she did, tripped over the wadded pantyhose, turned to try to catch her balance and fell facedown on the floor. The thin carpet offered no protection and she felt a brief moment of pain and then nothing.

* * *

Opening her eyes, Tara’s first thought was that she was in bed and her mattress was mighty hard. She slowly sat up and a stabbing pain in her forehead reminded her what had happened. Looking at the clock, she saw it was time to get up for work. She stood. No bones were broken, and when she looked in the mirror her pupils appeared normal, though her forehead was swollen.

She rushed through her morning routine because she had to be at work early today. The visiting dignitary was in again and her supervisor requested she arrive before her normal starting time to make coffee. Though she was certain coffee making was not in her employment description as an accountant, Tara didn’t argue.

The cursed nylons she’d worn the day before were torn, and after rooting through her dresser drawers, all she could find was a pair of stockings and a garter belt, remnants from better times. Wearing the racy articles of clothing gave her a little tingle as her bare thighs touched each other. Though not overweight, she wasn’t a beanpole, and her legs had a bit of meat on them. Skin on skin felt different than having the barrier of material between her legs, and for some reason, this extra bit of stimulation felt particularly good today.

Tingling wasn’t the only odd sensation she felt. Everything looked different. Colors were brighter, more vivid, and she saw flashes of light and movement in the corners of her vision. Concerned that these apparitions were a result of smacking her head on the floor, she decided to visit the doctor later in the day if the situation didn’t improve. Her forehead was noticeably swollen and bruised, and she was thankful she wore her hair in bangs.

The workday progressed with its normal dull routine up to lunchtime. Tara pulled her purse from her drawer and turned down her computer. Her coworker looked up from a document she was perusing.

“Where are you going so early?” Brenda asked. “It’s not your lunchtime yet.”

Tara started to argue, then looked at her clock.

“It’s only eleven,” Brenda said, and Tara saw she was right.

“My morning work is done. Usually when that happens it’s time for lunch. How did I get finished so quickly?” Tara looked around her desk, expecting to see something she’d missed, but it was true, all her reports were finished, emails were sent and phone calls returned.

“I’m going to lunch, anyway. I’m starving,” Tara said. It would make for a long afternoon, but she didn’t care. She grabbed her sandwich and apple and went outside to sit at the employee picnic table, which was thankfully empty.

Looking around, she marveled at the vibrant colors. She closed her eyes and listened, tuning in to every sound. How had she not noticed how many birds sang each day? The scent of the water and the sea breeze filled her nostrils, stronger than she ever remembered. She smiled, letting the sun caress her face. A small spark of joy lit her soul and she savored the moment, remembering when she used to take pleasure from times like this every day. Since the Divorce from Hell, nothing was able to stir her heart. She moved through her days like a marionette, doing what was expected of her and little more.

This beauty was why she’d moved down here with Karl three years ago when he got that wonderful job. They both thought the area would make a great home. She’d done a bit of research and found many top-rated schools and the size and value of home they could afford was excellent. Sure, the summers were hot, but winter in Florida was paradise. It seemed like a dream come true.

Unfortunately, after one year of heaven, the economy took a downturn and Karl was laid off shortly thereafter. He turned out to have little motivation and was perfectly content to collect unemployment and stay home and drink beer and watch television while they lived off her salary and drained their savings account.

His unemployment benefits ran out soon and they were forced to sell their perfect little home and move into a small rental. Though Tara begged Karl to take some type of job, he insisted nothing was good enough for him. He was waiting for the perfect position that would open up any day. When her high-paying temp job ended, Tara took a long, hard look at her life. Though the prudent thing to do would have been to move back to the Midwest where they had friends and family, she was starting to love the area and wanted to stay.

Anyway, the idea of returning home with her tail between her legs was unacceptable. Tara was a fighter and she would not admit defeat, so when Karl approached her with a business investment he swore would be a sure thing, she’d reluctantly agreed and allowed him to use every cent they had left.

Just thinking about what happened next made her stomach knot up. Things had gone downhill fast after that. She left Karl, moved into a tiny apartment and gratefully took the first job she could get. Thinking of her past usually made Tara want to smack herself for being a first-class fool. Today, however, something had shifted. That small spark of spirit that had been in hiding burned stronger. She hummed a tune, one she and her mother used to sing, and went back to work feeling energized. She flew through the second half of the day’s work and when the phone rang she picked it up with a cheerful greeting.

“This is Tara in accounting, how can I help you?”

“I’m pretty much beyond help, girlfriend,” a lively voice announced. “But you can help yourself and come on out for Thirsty Thursday. Don’t you dare say no. I’ve heard that way too many times.”

Tara’s usual refusal sprang to her lips. She was still licking her wounds from the nasty battle with her ex-husband and was not ready to sashay into the meat market of after-hours bar drinking. She paused, recalling the sublime feeling of fresh air and sunshine on her skin. The bar her coworkers patronized had an outdoor seating area on the water and today the weather was perfect.

“Okay, I’ll be there,” Tara was slightly surprised to hear herself say.

“You will?” Lola asked. “All right! I’ll save you a seat next to me. We’ll have fun, you’ll see.” Her friend’s excitement was almost contagious. Almost.

“I just want to get out for a little while. I’m not going to stay late and I don’t want you trying to hook me up with any guys.”

“Now, would I do that?” Lola asked. Tara pictured her friend with the wicked grin she knew was on her face.

“Yes, you would and you have. I don’t need a man in my life right now, so no matchmaking.”

“There’s this new guy in my office that might come. You two would be perfect together.”

Tara sighed, loud enough so Lola could hear. “What did I just say? No men! I’m doing fine by myself.”

“Okay, if you call living in a shoe box and eating cereal and frozen pizza for dinner every night fine, then I’ll leave you alone and let you enjoy your life. I hear there are some great movies on PBS on Saturday. That’s where you’ve been hanging out on the weekends, right?”

Tara winced. Her friend was right. However, although Lola’s description did sum up her existence at the moment, it was how she chose to live. No dates, a miserable social life and a simple, undemanding job. She didn’t trust men, and she didn’t trust herself anymore, either. The low-level administrative position she held was all she felt capable of performing right now, even though she disliked it immensely and was often bored. When she thought of taking on a more challenging position, her mind flashed to those hours sitting in the lawyer’s office as Karl had listed her shortcomings, and she shuddered. “Hey, sorry, that was kind of harsh,” Lola said, a note of sympathy in her tone. “I just don’t want to see you dry up and turn into some kind of crazy old lady because of one asshole. There are still a few good men out there and you’ll find one, but you’ve got to get your behind out of your apartment.”

“I know, I know—I said I’d come. I’ll talk. I’ll mingle. I’ll drink. No romance just yet, okay? Promise?”

“All right, I promise. See you soon!”

* * *

“So then I said…hey, are you listening to me?” Lola asked, waving her hand in front of Tara’s face.

“Yes, I’m listening. You said Alice ate someone’s month-old sandwich she stole from the lunchroom refrigerator and got sick.”

“You don’t seem especially interested in my fascinating story. Your eyes are meandering around like your brain is somewhere far away. Are you thinking about anything particular? Something you want to share?”

Tara didn’t. She was thinking about nothing and enjoying it immensely. She listened to Lola with only half her concentration.

Her friend didn’t wait for an answer and resumed her narrative. Tara took the opportunity to focus on a man who had caught a bit of her attention. He had dark hair that was just a little longer than was the fashion, but it looked good on him. Sunglasses hid his eyes, but the rest of his face was attractive, if one enjoyed the rugged, dangerous look. Tara did. Pretty boys made her nervous. She could never be with a man who spent more time on grooming than she did. This one looked like he woke up with the same sexy dark shadow on his chin that he now sported. She crossed her legs, a twinge of heat causing her heart to beat faster.

Dark and Dangerous sat with several other men and women who were dressed like they had just come from their office, the same as her group. His rigid posture suggested military training and his facial expression was serious. Unlike the others in his group, he did not appear to be having a good time. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked as if he was drinking bottled water. What was he doing at happy hour?

From what she could see of his upper torso through his button-down work shirt, his body was in good condition, a welcome change of pace from most men she dealt with in her work environment. Too many of them had let themselves go, developing beer bellies and sagging chins at a young age. She leaned a little farther in her chair to get a better look.

“Hey now, you checking out that man candy over there? I thought you weren’t interested in the opposite sex,” Lola teased.

“I’m trying to see that woman he’s with. She looks familiar.”

This was partially true. Tara was sure she’d seen his companion in the finance section once or twice. Right now, the woman was laughing loudly with one of those raucous, grating laughs that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“Yeah, she does something around here. I see her a lot, too. Damn, that laugh of hers is enough to make you want to rip off your ears. You think she’s drunk?” Lola asked.

She was something, if not drunk. Her companion had to move more than once to avoid her sloshing drink. Suddenly, all the noise and bar smells got to Tara. Her mysteriously heightened senses had reached overload and it was time to go. She hugged her friend and dug her keys from her purse.

“We’ll do this again,” Lola said. “You had fun, nothing bad happened, you got a few of those cobwebs blown out of your brain, right?”

“My cobwebs are fine where they are,” Tara replied, but smiled. “Sure, it was fine. I’ll come out again.”

She made her way down the stairs but decided she wasn’t quite ready to leave the tranquility of the sea just yet. Wandering between the various shops and restaurants that lined this area of the port, she came to a quiet spot with an unobstructed view of the water. She stood for a few moments, watching the rays of the sun fan out. Once again, her mind slipped into a peaceful place and she stood motionless, letting the breeze lift her hair.

An odd noise, something between a growl and a whimper, interrupted her reverie. She noticed the edge of what looked like a large cage behind a few boxes. Always curious, she walked around the corner of the building. It was a cage and inside was a dog. No, on closer examination she ascertained it was a wolf dog. She’d seen this type of hybrid before and always felt sorry for them. Wolves were not domestic animals. They needed to live differently than dogs and no creature should be kept locked up like this. The cage, while large, barely offered the animal enough room to even stand up. He looked up at her with soulful eyes and she squatted a safe distance from his enclosure.

He didn’t appear to be abused and had plenty of water, but his face looked sad.

“Hey there, sweetie. How’s it going?”

The animal woofed softly and put a paw at the edge of the cage. She wanted to touch it, to give the creature some attention it obviously craved. Tears pricked her eyes. How could someone keep such a beautiful animal penned up alone in this tiny prison cell? Wolves were pack creatures and interacted as a group.

“How about I have a chat with your asshole owner?” she asked, dearly longing to do so, though certain that nothing would come of it if she did. People who didn’t respect animals gave little thought to humans, either.

A sound nearby drew her attention. Great. It was Hyena Woman, still laughing in that grating tone. Tara rose and peered out into the parking lot. Mr. D & D was with her and for a moment all Tara’s attention focused on him. The bottom half was as good as the top. He had long legs and a butt that filled out his work slacks nicely. Her pulse sped up and she bit her lip.

He held the door for his companion and when she was settled in her car, he reached his head inside. Tara looked on with envy, certain he was giving her a delicious kiss. For just a moment, she pictured herself in that car and tasted his lips on hers. She knew they would have the flavor of sea salt and would set her mouth on fire. A zing of warmth flooded her body and a shiver of wanting ran through her. It had been a long time since she’d looked at a man with desire.

Determined not to start that lustful habit that only led to trouble, Tara began to slowly back away. She certainly did not want to be accused of spying on the couple. For all she knew, the parties involved were married, but not to each other. Just as she was about to turn around and tiptoe away, Mr. Dark and Dangerous started to shine. Tara’s jaw dropped and she stopped her retreat to stare. His body was glowing, a faint blue color that grew brighter by the second. It quickly increased in brilliance and became an electric luminescence, coursing through and around his whole body. It was as if he was made of the light. She closed her eyes to clear her vision and then opened them again. He was still leaning into the car and was still lit up like a tacky dollar-store Christmas tree.

The wolf dog barked sharply and she whirled around in surprise, knocking over a pile of boxes as she turned. She looked back to the parking lot to see Mr. D & D stand up from his bent position. The radiant light faded. He turned toward her and their eyes locked for a moment. Then the wolf dog barked again. Tara tore her gaze away and spun around, attempting to right the fallen boxes. As she did, a man came lumbering out of the nearby shop.

“What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing, I just knocked these over. I’m sorry, I’ll pick them up.”

“What are you doing to my dog?”

The man stood with his hands on his hips and glared at Tara. She stopped what she was doing and glared back.

“I wasn’t doing anything to your dog. But what you’re doing is cruel. You shouldn’t keep a wild animal in a cage like that, you know.” Shocked at her own audacity, Tara picked up her purse and turned to leave. The man’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Don’t you tell me what to do—and don’t you be messing with my property.” The repulsive man stood inches away, his foul breath blowing in her face as he talked. She caught a scent of alcohol and cigarettes. Fear replaced anger and she tugged on her arm.

The animal barked loudly once then growled, the sound coming from deep in his throat.

“Let go of her,” another voice demanded, and Tara turned to see Mr. D & D approaching them.

Her attacker dropped her arm and took a step back. “We’re just having a chat—nothing’s going on,” he said, and with a final snarl at Tara, lumbered back into his shop.


Chapter Two (#ue7204cec-ad22-59fd-a376-ddffcc96f2d8)

Tara stared with wide eyes at the stranger. He smiled pleasantly. Around the edge of his body, a faint blue light still pulsed. She blinked her eyes rapidly and rubbed them vigorously, trying to focus.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“F-fine,” she stammered, her heart pounding wildly. She desperately wanted to leave, but he blocked her path.

“Are you sure? Is something wrong with your eyes?” he asked.

She rubbed them with her palms, knowing her makeup must now resemble a Salvador Dalí painting, but determined to clear her vision.

“I’m fine. The light…it’s bothering my eyes.”

His pleasant smile turned to a frown and the hair on her arms stood up. Behind them, the wolf dog growled and barked again.

He momentarily turned his attention away from her and to the wolf dog. “Shhh, easy,” he said soothingly in a low voice. The animal gave a soft whimper and then was quiet. He turned back to Tara.

“What light?” Mr. D & D looked at her intently.

“That blue…” She stopped, her intuition ringing warning bells.

“What did you see just now, in the parking lot?”

“I didn’t see anything,” she said. “I have to go.” Pushing past him, she made her way between the buildings toward her car, and as she reached the lot, she heard a loud and powerful crash.

A short distance down the road, the car that Hyena Woman had stepped into was wrapped around a light pole. Surrounding the car was a bright blue glow, the exact same kind that had emanated from the mysterious man moments earlier. The light now pulsed strong, sparking like a broken transformer.

Tara didn’t even try to clear her vision this time. It wasn’t her eyes playing tricks on her; the light was real. She stopped for a moment and stared.

A young man stepping out of his car held up his phone to get a picture. “Holy shit, did you see that?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t see her hit the pole, but that light. What is that?” she asked him.

He turned to her. “What light?”

“Around the car.”

“There’s no light.” The man raised his phone again and headed in the direction of the wreck. More people stopped, more cell phones were pulled out and restaurant patrons came running. Sirens sounded in the distance. There were exclamations from the crowd like, “Oh my God!” and “Do you think that person’s okay?!” But Tara knew there was nothing she could do to help the woman, and her instincts told her to get the hell out of there. She trotted as quickly as she could to her car and as she fumbled her keys out of her purse she heard footsteps rapidly approaching. A quick glance up revealed Mr. D & D was running toward her.

She hit the clicker repeatedly.

“Stop, please wait, I need to talk to you,” he called.

The door handle slipped from her sweaty palm. She cursed and pulled again.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He’d arrived at her car just as she managed to open the door.

“Damn right you’re not,” she said, jumping into the car. He grabbed the door before she could shut it.

“I just want to talk to you for a minute. Please. I promise not to harm you.”

“Then talk through the window,” Tara said, and pulling hard, shut the door and clicked the locks. She shoved the key in the ignition with shaking hands, started the car and slid the window down a crack.

“Tell me what you saw back there,” he said.

“I saw you with that woman who was in that horrible car crash. Right after you kissed her. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tattle. I don’t get involved in office gossip.”

“You saw something else, didn’t you?”

The fearful look in her eyes must have given her away, but Tara was not about to reveal what she’d seen, or thought she’d seen.

“It’s important that you tell me. You could be in danger.”

“I said I won’t blab your secret. Lots of people play kissy-face after a few drinks. It’s no big deal. Now, let go of my car, I need to leave.”

“You have to give me a chance to explain. I’ll meet with you somewhere, in a public place, wherever you feel safe. You work in accounting, right? I’ve seen you there."”

“Hey Marshall,” a voice called and looking around the body blocking her window, Tara saw a man running up to them. So Mr. D & D’s name was Marshall. Good name.

“There’s a cop here. He wants to talk to all of us who were having drinks with Annette. Right now.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, we’ll meet,” Marshall said to her and backed away from the car.

Without a backward glance, Tara took off and drove home as fast as she could, her hands shaking on the steering wheel. When she got to her building, she sprinted up the stairs and didn’t stop moving until her front door was securely locked and bolted. Then she leaned against the door and slid down the length, sitting on the floor to catch her breath.

What the hell just happened? This had to be one of the strangest days she’d ever had, pleasantly so up until the end. Did someone slip a hallucinogenic substance in her drink? Tara put her face in her hands and winced as she touched her forehead. No, probably not a mysterious drug—it had to be her injury. The blow to her head had her seeing things. People and cars did not glow.

She rose, poured herself a glass of wine and undressed, deciding to call this an early night. Even if that man, Marshall, wasn’t actually glowing blue the way her eyes told her that he was, she was convinced that he had something to do with the woman wrecking her car. Tara was sure. She detected an air of danger around him and more importantly, it was too much of a coincidence that he was so close to Hyena Woman moments before she crashed. He did something to her, maybe something much more ominous than a kiss. He had somehow impeded her driving ability. And Tara hadn’t stopped to gawk, but she was fairly certain the poor woman was dead. Her car was wrapped around that pole like stripes on a candy cane.

Marshall knew that Tara had seen him with that Hyena Woman Annette and because of that, he was overly eager to talk to her. Something was very off here. Thank goodness she had an unlisted number, because she did not want to talk to him. That woman was dead. And what she’d told him was true—she did not get involved with workplace politics or relationships, and if he had some bizarre agenda going on that involved people dying, all the more reason to stay far away.

Tara took a long, steamy shower then climbed into bed and forced herself to read a few chapters of her book. Eventually her nerves settled down and she slept.

* * *

All the next day Tara fought a sense of unease. When she concentrated, she was still able to zip through her tasks as quickly as she had the previous day, but her mind kept wandering to the strange events of the evening before. Though curious by nature, warning bells dinged loudly and her intuition told her not to get involved in this strange incident. She knew whatever was going on spelled danger.

The day finally ended, and just as she was about to head home, her work phone rang.

“Hello, you’ve reached Tara in accounting. How can I help you?”

“Meet me at the Crazy Bean Coffee Shop in fifteen minutes. This is Marshall. From last night.”

Tara’s pulse skipped a beat.

“How did you get my number?”

“I have resources. I need to talk to you and if you won’t meet with me I’ll come to your office.”

His tone held no room for argument and he’d already hung up by the time she came to her senses enough to protest. Tara believed he would make good on his threat and come up to her area in the office, so she quickly finished shutting down her computer, grabbed her purse and headed down the hall.

To her utter annoyance, she found herself drawn to the bathroom mirror where she slid on a smidge of lipstick and fluffed her hair before leaving the office. Marshall’s voice on the phone, abrupt though it had been, contained an underlying tone of sensuality and sent a ripple of pleasure through her. Though she fully intended to keep the conversation brief and was only going along with his demand so he would leave her alone, she wanted to look good doing it.

She stepped outside and was greeted with a gust of wind. So much for primping. Her hair flew everywhere and she squinted with her hand held over her eyes. It was bright, sunny and breezy—a perfect day. The Crazy Bean was not far away, so Tara decided to walk. She didn’t plan to spend much time in the establishment and figured she could get away easier on foot if she needed to. Besides, the coffee shop was always busy. If Hot and Crazy tried anything, a loud yell would bring help.

Her heart did a little flip when she saw him sitting at a table. Even if he was a lunatic, he was a damn fine-looking one. Today he wore blue jeans and a long-sleeved button-down shirt. It was open just enough that she could see a patch of dark hair on his chest. As she got closer, the faint scent of an enticing woodsy aftershave or cologne reached her nostrils and made her pulse skip a beat. He still had on those sunglasses, and though they made him look hot as hell, people who wore shades indoors irritated her. She slid into the seat across from him.

“So talk. I don’t have a lot of time,” she began. In reality, she had nothing but time this Friday night, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.

A server took her order, then he leaned in close and lowered his voice.

“When I saw you yesterday, you said something about seeing some kind of light. A blue light. Is that correct?”

“I was having a problem with my eyes. Too much staring at a computer, that’s all.”

“You’re a poor liar, Tara. This is important, so please tell me the truth. You saw me change to another form last night, didn’t you?”

Tara tried to keep her face neutral, but was sure he saw her eyes widen.

“Have you ever seen anyone do that before?” he asked, studying her closely.

She shook her head and he reached over and lightly moved her bangs from her forehead. A tingle danced through her body at his touch.

“You’re hurt. Did this just happen?”

She nodded, speech eluding her.

“Maybe that’s why you could see me change,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I need to talk to you more, find out what you can and can’t see. You’ll have to come with me to a more private place.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” Tara said, finding her voice at last. “Whatever I saw yesterday was a hallucination, from this bump on my head.”

“You’ve been seeing other things, haven’t you?” he asked. “Colors a little off, shadows where they shouldn’t be, flashes of light?”

Tara stared at him, dumbstruck. That was exactly what she’d been experiencing since she hit her head.

“What’s going on? Do I have a serious injury?” Even as she asked the question, she knew that wasn’t the reason for the weirdness she’d witnessed. A blue light had come from this enigmatic man sitting in front of her, not from a figment of her imagination or the bump to her head.

“I can’t tell you any more here. Please, come with me. I promise you’ll be safe.”

“Take off your sunglasses,” she said. There would be no further discussion until she could see past the mirrored surface.

He pulled them off and her jaw dropped. His eyes were extraordinary, a deep emerald color, flecked and ringed with gold. Her own eyes were hazel and had been called beautiful, but were nothing like what she gazed into now.

Then he smiled and she was lost. The face that had struck her as ruggedly handsome now became so sensually appealing, her mouth curved unconsciously. He radiated confidence and warmth, and the sincerity she saw caused her defenses to crumble.

“Please, say you’ll come with me,” he pleaded.

“I…” she began, but stopped as Marshall suddenly stiffened. He swore under his breath and she followed his gaze to a man who had just walked into the shop.

“We should go. Now,” he said in a quiet voice, and put his glasses back on.

The man stepped up to the counter and spoke to the cashier, then turned to look at them. He smiled at Marshall, and as he did, his features changed swiftly. His face and form shifted until suddenly, a large cheetah was standing a few yards away, holding a paper cup.

Yet he was not just a cat. This creature was part animal, part man, and totally freaky. Tara’s blood froze. She yelped, and then jumped up from the table, spilling her coffee.

“Don’t move. Sit down,” Marshall said quietly, urgency in his voice.

She put her hand over her mouth.

A scream threatened to emerge and Tara couldn’t understand why no one else in the shop seemed concerned that there was a wild animal in their midst.

“Sit down,” Marshall said in a deep, low voice that was almost a growl.

“Th-that man,” she stuttered.

“I know. Sit down and look away before he sees you looking.”

It was too late. Cheetah Guy stared right at her. She took a step back and knocked over her chair. His eyebrows drew together initially in puzzlement, but in a moment his gold eyes flared with anger. He lifted a lip in a snarl, showing long, pointed teeth. Tara let out a shriek.

Marshall put a hand on her arm but Tara shook it off, grabbed her purse and ran to the door. To her horror, the large cat followed with Marshall right behind.

Regretting her decision not to drive, Tara pushed open the door, kicked up her heels and ran. She was halfway across the parking lot when she heard Marshall yell.

“Get down!”

Tara whirled and saw a figure standing halfway between her and the coffee shop, pointing an object that looked like a gun directly at her. It was the man from the coffee shop, no longer in cat form. She had never seen him before in her life but she knew he intended to kill her.

All this registered in a split second. Without thinking, she dove under the nearest car, as a strange sound zinged through the air. She felt a crackle of electricity, almost like the electrical shock she’d received two days before. From beneath the vehicle she saw the man’s feet as he ran toward her. Did he just fire that odd-looking gun at her? She heard Marshall’s voice again.

“Stop! Back away.”

She slid out a tiny bit to see Marshall pointing a weapon at the man.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” he said, then pointed his odd-looking gun behind Marshall. “You do, and I’ll blow up that building and everyone in it, I swear.”

The man kept the weapon pointed at Marshall and backed away, then turned and ran.

Marshall started to run after him, but stopped and headed toward Tara instead.

“Are you all right?” he asked as she dragged herself out from under the vehicle.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. Go get him!”

Marshall sprinted to his vehicle, his gaze turned toward the fleeing assassin. Tara jogged over to join Marshall.

“There,” she pointed. “I see him.” She pulled the door handle.

“What are you doing? Get out of here.” Marshall jumped in and started his Jeep.

“No, I’m going with you. It was me he was shooting at.” She hopped in. “Go!”

“You can’t come with me—it’s against regulations. Get out of my car!”

“We don’t have time to argue. He’s getting away.”

Marshall exhaled loudly but put the car in reverse and started to back up. He suddenly slammed on the brakes and Tara jerked forward.

“Shit!” He smacked the steering wheel and Tara looked out the back window. A large Cadillac with a short, white-haired driver was inching out of the spot directly behind Marshall’s car, blocking him in. Though Tara longed to lean on the horn, she knew it would do no good. The little old woman would either have a heart attack or would reduce her pace even more just for spite.

Slowly, slowly she drove. Tara saw Marshall’s jaw tense and could almost hear his teeth grind. He finally had enough room to get out, and just as he backed up, the would-be assassin’s car drove past. He flipped them the bird as he flew down the road.

Marshall cursed.

“Aren’t you going to go after him?” Tara asked.

“He’s gone. There’s no way I can catch him now. Besides, he’s not the real problem.”

“Oh? Someone shooting at me isn’t a problem? I kind of think it is. What is the real problem?”

“The fact that you can see us is a huge fucking problem.”

“See who? You need to fill me in and there’s no need to curse at me.” Tara crossed her arms, partly in anger and partly to keep Marshall from seeing how hard her hands were shaking.

“Yes, we do need to talk.” Marshall put the vehicle in drive and moved forward.

“What are you doing? I need to go back to my car.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I figure out what’s going on. I have to check in with headquarters.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“My house. It’s not far from here.” He settled back with a grim expression on his face.

“I don’t want to go to your house. Let me out of here right now.” Tara tugged the door handle. In retrospect, hopping into this stranger’s car had not been the best idea, but she’d been so pissed and anxious to catch her assailant she hadn’t thought of the consequences.

“This is for your own safety. Stop pulling that, you’re going to break it. The door is locked. Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”

Tara opened her mouth to protest further, but a look at Marshall stilled her. He frowned with cold fury and though he still had his sunglasses on, she was sure his eyes were as dark as a moonless night. She leaned back in the seat and focused on getting her breathing back to normal. Her heart raced, and to her annoyance she felt tears prick her eyes as the reality of the situation hit her. She could have been killed! She bit them back, determined not to show weakness in front of this man.

After several minutes of slow inhalations, a degree of calm settled in.

“Can you at least tell me who you are?” she asked as they sat at a stoplight.

To her surprise, he took off his shades, turned in her direction and looked at her with those remarkable green eyes. Though his mouth was still tight, his expression softened a bit.

“I will, I promise. Right now I want to get you to my house where you’ll be safe. What exactly did you see at the coffee shop?”

“A gigantic cat, sort of. It looked like a cheetah, but still like a man.”

Marshall sighed and put his glasses back on. “Not good.”

The rest of the short trip was spent in silence.


Chapter Three (#ue7204cec-ad22-59fd-a376-ddffcc96f2d8)

Tara’s state of calm evaporated as they turned off the main road to a side street, then onto a dirt driveway where the Jeep bumped along slowly. Large trees lined the path providing shade, and she heard an array of birds chirping. It was all very bucolic yet surreal after the events at the restaurant. As she often did when in a strange and potentially dangerous situation, Tara pictured herself talking to the police to explain her actions, after something horrific had happened. She feared hopping into a car with a stranger and letting him take her to his house in the woods would not be considered a prudent move.

Too late now; they were at his garage. He pulled the Jeep inside, and she was relieved to see the area was clean and organized. Shelves were stacked neatly with garage items, and his recycle bin was half-full. Surely, if he was a demented killer there would be signs of his madness. Maniacs didn’t recycle.

He got out, then came around to her side and opened her door, a gesture Tara hadn’t had performed for her in ages. That settled it—he couldn’t be crazy, he was far too polite.

Walking into his house was like stepping into the pages of a magazine. Care had obviously gone into choosing the furnishings and everything was tidy and in its proper place, quite the opposite of her cluttered home.

“You don’t spend much time here, do you?” she asked.

Marshall tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. “No, I don’t.”

There were no pictures on the walls, no books or magazines cluttering the tables. Tara glanced around for anything that would give her a clue to Marshall’s personality, but there was nothing.

“I have to make a few calls. Help yourself to water. Glasses are over the sink.”

Tara opened a cupboard to reveal a set of sparkling glasses and mugs, neatly arranged on the shelves. She thought of her own chipped, mismatched thrift store purchases and sighed. Even wild men lived better than she did.

Marshall paced the floor in the living room as he talked on the phone with someone, and Tara observed him while she sipped her water. He did not sound happy with the conversation.

“It’s Denzel. He’s in the area and he saw me and the woman. Yes, she’s here with me now. She’s safe. No sir.” A pause. “But sir, I think I would be better suited to…” Another pause. “Yes sir.”

He finally hung up and turned toward her. Though his expression was grim, Tara was again struck by the beauty of his piercing eyes, now focused on her.





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