Pick of the Litter Read online

  She had a fine boned beauty that was startling, even with her mascara running across her cheeks and the red welt of a hand print on her face. That print had him wanting to snarl, to go back to that room and finish off those men in the way of his people. He would find that most satisfying. Instead, he took a deep breath, leaning over to brush her hair from her face. “Would you like to go to the emergency room?"

  "No, no hospital or doctors. They'd want to call the cops.” She shook her head, wishing she could start the entire day over.

  "How about a shower then, if you don't want to report them? I'll find you something to put on afterwards.” Lifting her in his arms again, he started towards the stairs, tucking the blanket in around her. “Maybe a bath would be better. You could use the tub in my bathroom if you'd like.” He reached the top of the stairs, not even the tiniest bit out of breath.

  "If you're sure I won't be putting you out...” she said, hesitating.

  "Nope.” Lukah walked down a long hall, past a number of closed doors, then opened one at the end of the hallway. He stepped into a room that was built for luxury, done in a male fashion with dark colors and sleek fabrics. A bed the size of a small lake sat in the middle of the room on a raised dais. It was covered with a dark suede comforter in stripes of different shades of blues. Heavy oak bedroom furniture was situated around the room on a carpet of creamy white. Expensive water colors were on the walls, save one that was covered with dark drapes, gauzy white sheers showing in between.

  Lukah moved through the room, opening a door off the far wall and stepping into the bathroom. If the bedroom shouted luxury, the bathroom screamed decadence. Navy tile was on the floor and on the surround of the tub. Candle holders built into the surround held scented candles. The bath tub was huge and deep, curved softly to fit the body. A huge steam shower with four heads took up one whole end. At the other, French doors led onto a small balcony full of potted plants.

  He set her down gently, going to the tub, turning on the water and carefully checking the temperature. “I'll go find you something to wear. Unless you need my help to get in?” At the shake of her head, he grinned. “Take your time. There's bubble bath on the side and the switch for the jets is right over there.” He pointed at the small toggle switch next to the waterfall faucet.

  He turned to leave, only to feel her hand grab his. “Thank you,” she said softly. “Not just for rescuing me but ... for everything,” she added, suddenly feeling shy.

  "It was my pleasure, Marissa. Do not worry. You are safe here.” He smiled down at her and she felt her breath catch in her throat. He squeezed her hand softly before letting hers go and leaving the room, quietly closing the door behind him with a soft click of the latch.

  Marissa stood tenderly, unwrapping the blanket and then unzipping his jacket. She slowly shrugged it off, feeling her muscles protest every move as she walked over to the huge mirror that hung above the long counter top.

  Her gasp was loud in the silence, her hand coming up to touch her swollen and bruised lips as she stared at the mess reflected in the mirror. Her hair was mussed, tangled from the hands grasping and pulling at it, her face was red, her eye bruised from where she'd been slapped. Little bruises could be seen over the length of her pale skin, where their fingers had grabbed and groped at her mercilessly.

  Marissa saw the blood drying on her thighs, the scratches and bruises from their hands and the bite marks that were on her shoulders and breasts. “Oh God,” she whimpered. Realization hit her suddenly and hard. She'd been raped. She could have been killed. Even now she could still feel their hands and lips on her body, and worse, she could feel him, his cock still thrusting so painfully inside of her.

  With a cry that she stifled by pushing her fist into her mouth, she hurried to the tub as fast as her battered body would handle, sitting gingerly on the edge and slipping her legs into the water. She grabbed the bubble bath, pouring a liberal amount into the water before sliding into the tub.

  Heat soaked into her skin and her muscles but it wasn't enough. She felt dirty, violated in the worst way a woman could be. Grabbing the soap that she found in the small dish set on the side of the tub, she rubbed it into a heavy lather, scrubbing at her body until her skin was red and sore. She managed to stand, lifting her leg so that it rested against the side of the tub, opening her body up.

  With shaking hands, she used the soap on her woman's flesh, scrubbing gently at her sex, ridding it of the traces of blood and traces of him, of her rapist. She rinsed and then scrubbed again, gasping as her fingers found abraded flesh in the tender mound.

  When she was finished, when she finally felt the tiniest bit cleaner, she sat in the tub, head bent forward, arms wrapped around her knees. The tears fell, silent drops splashing into the water, quiet sobs shaking her slender shoulders. She cried until the water grew cold and her head hurt. Finally, she forced herself out of the tub and into one of the thick fluffy towels Lukah had set out for her.

  It was huge, almost wrapping around her twice, and she savored the softness of it against her bruised skin. Sitting on the counter, she found a brush and used it to pull the tangles out of her damp curls.

  Marissa sat the brush down when her hair was silky soft and tangle free, staring at the closed door of the bathroom. He'd said he was going to bring her some clothing to put on, hadn't he? She went to the door, pressing her ear to the sturdy wooden portal and listening intently.

  Silence greeted her. If he was in there, he was being awfully quiet about it. Why was she so worried about him seeing her in a towel anyway? He'd seen her trapped beneath that bastard, his body slamming into hers. She sighed, reaching for the door handle and turning it quietly.

  The bedroom was empty, a small stack of clothing sitting on top of the huge bed. She hurried over to it as fast as her bruised and sore body would let her, picking up the soft sweat shirt and pulling it on before dropping the towel.

  The shirt was as huge on her as the jacket had been, covering her from neck to the top of her thighs. It was soft, smelling of fabric softener, and warm. Pulling on the sweat pants, she tied them securely around her slender waist, laughing as they hung on her. She rolled up the bottoms and then sat on the bed and pulled on the thick socks he'd left for her, feeling infinitely better now that she was dressed.

  The towel was hung on the towel bar to dry and she picked up his jacket and the throw, folding both and laying them over the edge of his bed. With a determined stride, she headed toward the door, opening it and heading down the long corridor and the stairs.

  The house seemed too quiet, as if she were completely alone. Marissa stared around at the different rooms she could see from the stairway, finally deciding to look for Lukah in the kitchen.

  Two steps into the living room, a low growl stopped her in her tracks. It was loud and menacing, a feral sound that had the hair on the back of her neck standing on end.

  "Hello?” she whispered.

  It came again, that low growl, louder still. She whirled in her tracks, a small shriek escaping from between her lips before she could slap her hand over her mouth. Standing in front of her was a big black cat. It was way too big to be a domestic house cat, too powerful and sleek to be anything but what it was ... a panther.

  It strolled toward her as if it had all the time in the world, its black coat shining in the light coming from the windows, its eyes gleaming a strange amber. There was a look in those eyes that was terrifying, one of intelligence and hatred.

  Marissa couldn't take her eyes off the beast, her heart pounding in her throat. Fear deprived her of what little strength she had left. She'd survived rape and now she was going to be eaten by a panther. Could this day get any worse? Taking one tiny step backward, and then another, she tried to put some distance between herself and the big cat.

  It crouched, its long black tail flicking ominously, its padded paws looking incredibly large with sharp talon like claws that it seemed to delight in digging into the thick carpeting, almost as if i
t were trying to frighten her.

  With a roar, it pounced.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter Two

  Marissa screamed, falling backwards as the big cat barreled toward her, its long claws outstretched and almost gleaming in the light. Her hands were held in front of her, little protection against the fangs and claws of the creature.

  Time moved in slow motion as she tried to back away from the muscular beast. Her feet slipped on the hard wooden floor, unable to get purchase. Finally, she turned her head, not wanting to watch as her life was ripped violently from her.

  Another growl sounded, this one from off to her right. Marissa opened her eyes, gasping. This cat was even bigger than the first, solid with muscle and its pelt gleaming almost blue in the light. A strange golden collar ringed its throat, flashing as it roared again, showing huge fangs. Then it, too, pounced, but instead of coming after her, it hit the other cat, knocking it off its feet and down to the ground.

  The second cat stood over the first, its teeth poised at the vanquished throat for what seemed like hours but could have in reality lasted only seconds. Deliberately, he backed away, letting the other cat up. The cat snarled once, looking at Marissa with glowing, evil eyes. The bigger animal growled low in its throat, teeth bared and fangs shining. The smaller cat seemed to bow to the bigger one and then trotted from the room, its tail whipping angrily.

  Marissa stared at the big black cat left in the room, watching as it looked at her a moment. Then it moved toward her, a husky rumble coming from its chest.

  "No,” she moaned, putting her hand up, only to feel the huge head bump against her palm, rubbing against her like a good natured tabby. It moved even closer, rolling on its back against her sock covered feet, rubbing against her legs.

  She was so surprised, she couldn't move for a moment. “Good girl,” she said hesitatingly, reaching out to rub at the rounded ears.

  The cat grunted, giving her a look from its amber eyes that seemed disgusted. It rolled again, this time showing off definite male characteristics before coming back to its feet and standing next to her.

  "Sorry,” she said, slipping to her knees. “Good boy."

  It seemed to be waiting for something and she finally realized that it wanted her to get up. She did, watching as the cat took a few steps and then turned to glance at her, impatience in his eyes.

  "Okay, okay, I'm coming."

  She followed it back up the long stairs, walking beside the huge beast. He prowled with a feline grace that was poetry to watch. He made sounds in his throat as he walked, a strange noise somewhere between a grunt and a hum. Turning into a door that was partially ajar, he pushed it open with his head, slinking through and then calling to her with that same humming grunt.

  Marissa walked into an elegantly feminine bedroom. Rose colored walls contrasted against white molding and wainscoting. Soft watercolors of flowers hung upon every wall. Stylish cherry furniture, including a high four poster bed, had her eyes lighting up in delight. She turned a small circle in the room, amazed to be in it.

  Her companion leapt easily to the bed, padding a circle upon the soft floral spread before lying down and eyeing her in what looked like amusement. She moved closer to the bed, hearing the rumble of his purr as she cautiously sat on the edge. “Is this my room or yours?” she asked, feeling foolish. “I wouldn't think something as magnificent as you would like a room this feminine, so I think I'll believe it's mine."

  The cat rose, moving closer to her, rubbing his huge head against her shoulder carefully.

  "You're a friendly one,” she breathed. “Thank God.” She lifted her hand, almost shrieking when the panther opened its mouth, closing it around her hand. He backed up on the bed, pulling her forward and then letting go. Marissa lifted her palm, amazed to see not even a sign of a tooth mark on her bruised skin. If it weren't for the slight drool upon the back of her hand, she wouldn't have known he'd touched her. “Next time, just tell me to lie down,” she groused, wiping the drool off on the oversized sweats she wore.

  She curled up on the big bed, reaching down and pulling a soft throw out from under her graceful companion. Feeling incredibly safe in the big cat's presence, she let her eyes close and exhaustion drag her deep into blackness.

  * * * *

  Hands grasped at her, pulling at her limbs, tearing the clothes from her body. Rank smelling men pawed at her, their faces distorted with lust, ugly and twisted with their perverted desires. Marissa screamed, fighting them off, her body struggling painfully in their grasp. A mouth closed over her nipple, teeth biting down sharply, drawing blood, bringing a shriek of pain from a throat grown closed from panic. “Please, don't! Stop!” she cried as she was passed from one set of arms to another.

  Lukah rose from beside her, shaking off the sleep that had taken him while he watched over her. Her writhing and mumbles had startled him at first and he hadn't known exactly where he was. But now, he saw her in the grip of a nightmare, and knew what stalked her in her dreams. “Marissa,” he called softly, not wanting to scare her worse. “Come on, sweet one.” He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. “Wake up!"

  She did, fighting his hand, striking out against him. He pulled her to him, holding her gently, but not letting her go. “It's me, Marissa. It's Lukah,” he said over and over. “You're safe with me."

  "Lukah?” She pushed back from him, looking into his face. Then she crumbled as sobs shook her shoulders, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. “Oh God,” she wept. “They raped me."

  He drew her gently into his lap, holding her close, his hands rubbing soothingly across her back. “It's over, sweet one,” he crooned, rocking her slowly. “You're safe, you're safe."

  Her sobs lessened and she lay compliantly against his chest. “Oh,” she said, her head coming up to look around the room. “Did you know that..."

  "I have panthers in the house?” he finished for her, smiling down at her with a gleam in his gaze. “Yeah. They won't hurt you.” He slid her off his lap before she realized he was naked. “Go back to sleep, Marissa, it's still early."

  She curled up against the pillows, looking for the entire world like a teenager in the over-sized clothing. Yawning, she reached out and took his hand. “How many of them are there?” she asked.

  "A few, but they won't bother you. I promise."

  "The big one that saved me had a collar like your necklace,” she muttered sleepily, her hand reaching out to barely graze the heavy gold. “He had eyes like yours too."

  Lukah held his breath as she reached out and touched his face with gentle fingers. His heart tripped in his chest as he waited for her to say more. Instead, she smiled sleepily and curled her hand under her cheek, her eyes closing.

  He moved on the bed, scooting toward the edge with a grace that was fluid and lithe. Her soft sigh stopped him and he turned, stroking his hand over her cheek. “Sleep little one. When you wake, we shall talk."

  She rubbed her cheek into his palm, trusting him and making his heart leap. His gaze moved over the perfection of her slim features, marred by the bruise that was forming on her cheek. She was beautiful, there was no denying that. But there was something else that stirred these deeper emotions in him, something under the damsel in distress he'd rescued. She held a core of strength that was not often found in the female of her kind.

  Beauty, he thought, staring down into her face, relaxed by sleep. Creamy skin, with a slim nose and large expressive heather-colored eyes that could look into his soul. A high forehead crested with long, curly auburn hair that shone red/gold in the light. Full, soft lips that curled sweetly in her dreams. He longed to know how she would taste, how she would respond to his touch.

  With a shake of his head, he stood, an impressive naked specimen. He stretched, reaching up, his hands grazing the ceiling of the room. Tearing his eyes from her, he left the room with a measured tread, closing the door quietly behind him.

  "Well, cousin,” he heard the feminine
purr, turning his head to glare at the woman standing behind him.

  "What do you want, Lucinda?” he asked softly, though his impatience was clearly evident in his voice.

  "I can't just want to talk to my favorite cousin?” she asked silkily, stalking towards him with the inherent grace of their kind. Her black hair was a loose cloud around her oval shaped face. The amber of her eyes glowed as she looked over him, purring to let him know she was enjoying what she saw.

  "You've never wanted to just ‘talk’ before, Cin,” he sighed. “I can't believe you'd want to start now."

  Her hand came up, resting against his bare chest. She moved close enough that he could feel the heat of her body through the leather pants and silk shirt she was wearing, her unfettered breasts brushing against his arm. “Well,” she sighed, stroking his hard chest, “perhaps I wish more than just to talk.” She chuckled huskily, sounding almost like the humming grunt of the big black cat. “Just talking was never enough for you before."

  "Cin,” Lukah began, moving her hand off of him. “Not now."

  "Not now?"

  Lukah cringed at the sound of her voice, knowing by the anger he could hear that she would be hell to be around unless he could satisfy her in some way. “I'm tired and hungry, Cin. I need a run and something to eat. Until then, go find one of the others to sate your lusts with."

  "You wish for me to go to someone else?” she asked, her voice full of disbelief.

  "Yes, go find Ajax or Dimitri. Either would be more than happy to scratch your itch for you, Cin."

  Lucinda stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Then anger flared, flaming in the molten gold of her eyes. She stamped her heeled clad foot heavily into the carpet, a screech of rage coming from between her lips. “You turn me away? How dare you? Do you know who you are insulting with your words?"