Chapter 9. “Something’s wrong with our Bé.”

“Something’s wrong with our Bé.”

“Definitely.”

Sitting cross-legged on her Grands’

bed, Genevieve glanced up from her cards—a nearly full house—and caught them both staring at her, their own cards all but forgotten.

“Come on, tell us,” Maw-Maw

cooed.

“Yes,” Paw-Paw said. “What

happened on that trip, sweetheart?” She’d been home for less than an hour, and in that time her Grands had done nothing but study her and grill her about her trip. Who was on it with her, why was she home so late, was that expression on her face an indicator of success or hardship?

“Nothing,” she told them again.

“Everything’s fine.”

Paw-Paw snorted. “We may be

ancient, Bé love, but we know you better than anyone. Something went either very wrong on that trip.” He turned to his wife and grinned. “Or very right.” Heat surged into Genevieve’s cheeks, and she tried like hell to keep the image of Jean-Baptiste’s face, body and mouth from entering her mind. But she failed.

Seemed she was doing a lot of that lately.

“Oh, my blessed knees,” Maw-Maw began, leaning forward so Genevieve could see the female’s entire hand.

Straight flush. “You met yourself a male, didn’t you?”

“No,” Genevieve said quickly, the word sounding phony even to herself. “I went to work. Nothing happened.” God, what a bald-faced lie. “There was no one—”

“Is he handsome?” Maw-Maw asked.

“Who cares about that,” Paw-Paw put in. “Can he be a good partner? Is he strong and fearless?”

A knock on the door not only stalled the conversation, but startled Genevieve.

“Genny!” called a male voice outside.

Genevieve’s heart dropped into her stomach. Hell, maybe it had even burrowed itself into the mattress. What was he doing? Why would he come here after everything she’d told him? After how he’d reacted?

“Genny!” he called again. “Come out here or I’m coming in!”

Her gaze jerked back to her Grands.

They were both reclining against the headboard of their bed, white down comforter to their chests, wide eyes and even wider grins plastered to their faces.

“Sounds handsome,” Maw-Maw said.

“Sounds strong,” Paw-Paw put in.

Oh, my god. This was humiliating.

“I’ll be right back,” Genevieve said, scrambling off the bed.

“Take your time, Bé,” Paw-Paw called after her.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Maw-Maw added with a tinkling of laughter.

Her heart slamming against its cage of ribs, Genevieve hurried to the front door and burst outside. Jean-Baptiste was leaning against the porch railing. Just like he had when they’d first met. Except tonight, he didn’t have on the leather jacket. Just jeans and a T-shirt, which showed off his sexy ink and hills of muscle to mouthwatering perfection.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her mouth so dry the words nearly came out a squeak.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. It was the one with the metal through it, and she fairly sighed with desire.

“If we’re to be officially mated I won’t have you running from me every time there’s an issue,” he said, pushing away from the railing.

She backed up to the door. He followed.

“Who says we’re going to be mated?” she asked breathlessly.

“I do.” He touched her face, smiled.

“And you do.”

“You don’t want to get involved with this, Jean-Baptiste.”

“With what? The dying magic inside your home?”

She flinched.

“Genny, you’re right about the troubles having crossed our borders. But it hasn’t just attacked your family.” For a moment, Genevieve wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. What was happening inside her home, to her Grands…was he saying they weren’t alone?

“How do you know this?” she asked, looking at him intently, making sure she heard every word of his reply.

His thumb brushed across her cheek.

“Because the magic is dying inside of me.”

“What?” she said on a gasp.

“Or it was. Until you came along.” His eyes pinned her where she stood.

She shook her head. “I don’t

understand.”

“My cat has been out of control for a while now. It refused to remain caged.

Even outside the Wildlands.”

“Oh, my god.”

“That’s why the tats and the metal. I had malachite put into each to ground my puma. It was barely keeping me sane.” He leaned in then and kissed her. Softly, sweetly, lovingly. “But you, my wonderful, beautiful Genny, have tamed us both.”

Another wave of confusion, of shock, barreled through her. “That’s not possible.”

“I wouldn’t think so either, unless I’d felt it.” He kissed her again. “But love and chemistry, desire and respect can work miracles it seems.” And again.

“We’re made for each other, Genny.” The knocking inside her heart, the heavy beats, the fear and worry and sadness, began to ease. He loved her. He wanted her. Despite everything.

Or maybe because of it.

“The elders told me it was just my house,” she said, a strange and powerful rush of strength running through her.

“They lied.”

“Maybe not. Maybe they don’t know about me, or if there are others who are suffering in silence and shame.” His eyes grew serious. “But it’s time we as a species talked about this. What’s happening to our land, to our cats, to our people. So we can work together to find an answer.”

Genevieve’s chest swelled with pride. It’s what she’d wanted from the elders. Being part of something bigger then herself, something that would help the Pantera, herself and her Grands included. Jean-Baptiste was right. The only way to find the reason for the dying magic, both on their borders and now inside their lands, was to work together as a species.

As the Pantera.

“Come, Mate,” he said on a growl.

“You haven’t even kissed me yet,” she teased, the blood in her body surging with a now-familiar heat. “A little premature, don’t you think?”

He grinned, and the look nearly made her legs turn liquid.

“Inside, Genny,” he said. “We may be mated in our hearts and our bodies, but I’m going to ask permission from your Grands.” He grimaced. “Hope they don’t find me too scary.”

She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. “They’ll love you. Just like I do.”

He kissed her hard and hungry for several seconds, then eased back. He pulled open the screen door and was about to follow her in when his phone rang. He took a quick glance at the screen and cursed.

“Sorry, ma chérie,” he said. “It’s Raphael. And after what just happened in the clinic, I need to get this.” He stabbed the button. “What’s up, Raph?” Genevieve watched him, silent as he listened to the Suit on the other end—the Suit Genevieve hoped would take her back into the fold. When Jean-Baptiste hung up, the happy, sexy, charming male who’d just kissed her dizzy and stupid was gone. In its place, stood a wide-eyed, teeth-bared male on the verge of shifting. Growling, cursing, he shook himself. Within seconds, he returned to his human form.

“Jean-Baptiste.” She touched his arm, worried and a little fearful. Not of him, never of him, but of what he’d just been told. “What’s happened?”

His eyes lifted to meet hers, and black ire glistened among the amber. “Not only is Ashe awake, but the ones who are responsible for her attack are in custody.” His voice dropped to a dangerous pitch. “It seems there are traitors among us.”

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