Feral Claws (The Midnight Panther Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  He had also been the one who showed me the ropes of the world as a werecat. There was no underground government controlling us, only the primal instincts that we all had. Those instincts choose how we interacted with each other... or rather how we didn’t. There weren’t many of us in the world, so there was plenty of property for us to mark our own territories. I had not known about it when I wandered into this part of town, but I had entered into River’s territory.

  He’s protected me ever since I told him why I had come, and by the time I had turned eighteen we were mated. I’m not sure how it happened, but I fell hard for him. Maybe it was because he was the only werecat I knew, or maybe it was because he was the only person who knew me as I truly was, and still loved me completely.

  After a while of us laying together, just enjoying the morning sun in silence, I slid out of bed and stretched out the stiff muscles in my back. I smirked as I saw River’s eyes ogling my naked backside and shimmied myself into the bathroom to pull on my clothes.

  After a quick glance in the mirror, I brushed my dark hair back into a slick bun and pulled on some leggings. As I pulled my t-shirt over my head, I noticed River in the doorway, staring at me with a sparkle in his eyes. His tall figure took up the whole bathroom entrance, and his bare chest flexed as he took a step towards me.

  “You look better naked.” he purred, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me towards him.

  “You don’t look so bad yourself.” I replied, letting my eyes trail down his body. He was built like a Spartan, a really hot one. He chuckled and kissed me once before releasing me and stepping into the shower.

  I made my way to the kitchen. We recently upgraded our living conditions and had moved to a roomy house one street over. The kitchen had polished granite countertops and new stainless steel appliances. I absolutely loved it and spent hours looking up new ways to decorate the room after we moved in.

  I grabbed a carton of eggs, a package of bacon, and got to sizzlin’ on the stove. By the time River was out of the shower I had a plate full of piping hot food ready for him to devour.

  Werecats generally eat a lot more than the average person. We can eat three plates in one sitting before feeling full, and even us tabbies have large appetites. Tabby is the term that the majority of the werecat population used to refer to their women, and although I thought it was sexist nonsense, the name stuck.

  River grabbed his plate and kissed my cheek before sitting down with his morning paper.

  “Are you going to the office today?” he asked.

  River owned his own construction business and had hired me as his office clerk when I turned eighteen. He was doing well for himself and never ran out of work. Some days he even worked on a Saturday, and I would drive to the site to watch his bare chest glisten with sweat as he hoisted wooden planks up the ladder. I made the assumption today wouldn’t be one of those Saturdays when he walked out of the bathroom wearing his lazy sweatpants.

  “Probably later, I’ve gotta finish drafting that Contract for the Hemming’s. They’re supposed to come by on Monday.”

  I plopped a massive glob of eggs in my mouth and River smirked. I’ve never had very polite table manners. My mother even used to punish me for eating too fast, and she claimed I was the human equivalent of a garbage disposal. I had improved a bit since becoming an adult, but not by much.

  I grinned with food still in my mouth and then chased it all down with a glass of orange juice. Before I could go to work, I had other business to attend to. After placing my plate in the sink, I lifted both arms above my head, stretching as a moan escape my lips and my back crunched. I had slept in an awful position last night, and I was more than ready to relax my muscles.

  “You wanna go do some yoga?” I asked River, wiggling my eyebrows at him as he looked up from his paper.

  “Sure,” he replied, smiling. He rose and matched my stretches, cracking the bones in his own back.

  We headed to our fitness room. It was labeled as the master bedroom, but the moment we purchased the house we knew its true purpose. It was the perfect indoor playroom for our feline forms. River had put his construction skills to use in this room and had built a ramp up from the floor that led to a shelf stretching all around the wall. We covered the windows with heavy curtains so no human could peek inside and call animal control. In the center of the carpeted room we had our yoga mats, rolled out and ready.

  It was my own personal nirvana.

  I slipped off my clothes and made my way to my mat, already beginning to slow my breathing. Soon both me and River were nude and going through the motions of our stretches. Arms raised to the moon, dip down to the earth, and slowly rise back up again. My breathing slowed. I felt all the tension from the early morning rolling off my shoulders. Once my body was fully relaxed, I dropped on all fours, allowing my shift to begin.

  This was my favorite part of the day. No matter what kind of trouble I was going through, the change always managed to lock the pain away and replace it with another kind of ache. The shift hurt like hell, but it was the best distraction in the world.

  After six years of getting to know myself as a panther, I learned to love the experience. I got to play and pounce, and occasionally hunt a mouse. Being a cat made me remember how it felt to be a child. Everything was a new experience, no matter how many times I had done it before.

  My bones crackled at the start of my transformation, and pain heated my body from the inside out. A whimper escaped my lips, but it came out as something scratchy and feral. My nose elongated, giving a whole new meaning to the movie Pinocchio. As my skin began to tingle, like a person before being struck by lightning, fur sprouted all over my newly reformed torso.

  I was now a large panther, with dark gray fur and black stripes zig-zagging down my back. My dry tongue fingered over my sharp fangs, and I purred in satisfaction. If any human had come across me, they would have thought I looked like a jungle panther- but with a unique fur pattern and three times the amount of mass.

  River had already shifted, and he nuzzled my head with his, giving me a lick on the face.

  River was a terrifying sight. He stood over a foot taller than me on all fours, sleek and dangerous. He resembled a classic black panther, only larger and with much sharper teeth. He was the biggest cat in this part of Tennessee, and all the other werecats were well aware of this. They didn’t fuck with him.

  I swished my tail rapidly while pointing my head towards the ramp. He let out a low growl and nodded, accepting my challenge. We both dropped to the floor and crept over to the makeshift exercise toy, slowly and silently. When I was a few inches away from the shelf, I pounced. Using the force of my hind legs, I flew through the air and onto the platform, beating River to the running station.

  He would be the prey, and I was the apex predator. He growled again, but I knew he was all talk and no show. He loved being chased. He ran around the room on the elevated shelf, with me in chase. I nipped at his tail, but he was always so fast that I couldn’t get a steady grip for my take down.

  Show off.

  I growled and pushed my legs harder, trying to give myself the extra boost I needed to catch my prey. Once I was only an inch away, I reached out my paws and grabbed the end of his tail. I threw him back to the ground below and jumped down to claim my kill.

  I grabbed River’s muzzle in my mouth and applied just enough pressure to not break the skin. He growled, warning me not to push his boundaries. He just didn’t enjoy being beat by a girl.

  After a second longer, I released him and licked his fur. He righted himself and faced off to me. His eyes were ablaze with mischief. River circled me slowly, and I matched his stride, not letting him get behind me. We mirrored each other perfectly, and I stopped as he did. After a second of debate, I tried to pounce.

  Being patient was never my virtue, and he used my weakness against me. He ducked below me and when I landed back on the ground, he was back on top of me, grabbing my muzzle from behind the sa
me way I had done him moments before.

  Only he wasn’t just claiming me, he was marking me. His paw landed on my back and he held me down as he licked me all over. I didn’t mind it, so I purred and licked my own paws.

  River had been marking me ever since we had gotten together, and I don’t know how many times it had helped persuade the other cats to leave me alone when I was visiting other cities. They couldn’t have a claimed tabby cat. I hated being held down, but when River was the culprit, it wasn’t so bad.

  A hiss erupted in the room's silence.

  River froze. I tried to roll over to face him, but his paw was heavy on my back. A low rumble escaped his lips, and this time the growl sounded dangerous instead of playful. Something was wrong.

  That’s when I heard him. A low and menacing screech emanated from outside the window.

  Another werecat had entered our territory and was right outside our home.

  Without opposable thumbs to open the door and investigate, we had to shift. During our shift, we were vulnerable. A silent agreement passed between the two of us, and River began the change back as I played lookout. I couldn’t hear the intruder anymore, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t there. He could be lying in wait, getting ready to pounce at any moment.

  I heard crunching bones and glanced back at River. He was already back to his human form and slowly pulled on his sweatpants. He knelt down beside me and whispered into my ear.

  “Don’t move. Roar if you need me.”

  I watched him leave the room and let out a slight whine as he closed the door behind him. I didn’t want to be left alone. I wanted to be out there to help him. If someone had trespassed on our land, they were doing it on purpose. Ignoring our markings was dangerous, and this home screamed danger. No normal cat would risk it.

  I heard someone scratching outside the window. My whine grew louder, and I paced the room as my nervousness increased. I was debating on shifting back, willing to put myself in danger if it meant I could make sure River was okay.

  “He’s gone.” I heard him grumble.

  Not wasting any time, I immediately changed back. River entered the room as I pulled up my pants, and I could tell he was angry. His face was scrunched together in a deep scowl, and he jerked his shirt up from off the floor.

  “There was a stray out there.” he spat, pulling the shirt over his head.

  “Did you recognize the scent?” I asked.

  “No.”

  He stormed out of the room and I trailed behind him.

  Any werecat who crossed borders without permission was igniting war with the home cat. We had never experienced such a violation before, and I wasn’t sure what River would do. River’s a gentle cat, but there are rules that cannot be crossed, and coming this close to our home was one of them.

  I followed him out of the house and to the rear of the building. I could already smell the stray. His aroma was distinct like all werecats were and smelled of spice and cloves. As I drew closer to the smell, I could understand why River was so frustrated. The cat had marked our house.

  “Why would someone do this?” I asked, anger lacing my voice. Marking my home was like placing a mark on me. My face grew red as my fury boiled over.

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out.” he hissed

  Later that day I slid into my car. No matter how upsetting it was to encounter a rogue stray, I was still obligated to do my work. Everyone can relate to the stresses of balancing work and personal life, and I was no different. River had been on the phone all evening, setting up meetings with the neighboring territories. He hadn’t sat still long enough to do much of anything, and testosterone thickened the air of the house. I was relieved to get away for a bit.

  Our office was only a five minute commute, and I hopped out of my Ford Fiesta with an eagerness to get to work. I loved my job. There was something oddly comforting about being able to sit at a desk and type away endlessly on a computer. I was in charge of all the paperwork and numbers, and often I would finish my tasks early so I could play crosswords online.

  River never ran out of work, with the exception of rainy days. The rumors about how cats dislike water were false, but outdoor work required a clear sky. River and his crew had an advantage over the other companies in the area, though. He was the only cat on the East Coast that hired werecats from other territories. They could plow through building sites exceptionally fast because of their heightened agility, and they were crushing their competitors. Surprisingly, they also got along.

  I opened the door to my little office. It was a standalone building on the outskirts of town, and by looking at it from the outside you could even mistake it for a house. It had gray painted siding, a shingled roof, and a little black plaque beside the door that read Vaughn’s Building Co..

  Upon entering the building, you couldn’t deny its small size. The room was tiny and only had one bathroom sectioned off from the rest of the building. I had made it beautiful though, with locally painted art dotting the white walls and a small leather couch in one corner. My wooden desk sat in the center of the room, with my computer and printer resting on top.

  I threw my bag down beside the door and got to work. Drafting up a contract wasn’t so hard, but explaining what it meant to the customers could sometimes be a pain. I normally had to go back through and oversimplify all of my text, which took an extra ten minutes of fast paced editing.

  I pulled up my browser and checked my email. Sometimes clients special requested materials or new layouts, so making sure I was available to all communications was important. I skimmed through a few pieces of junk mail before I landed on a starred message, sent to me from my only other friend in the world, Emily. She was a human, and knew nothing about what I truly was, but we still got along so well that we were often mistaken for sisters.

  She looked similar to me as well; same slender build, and same long dark hair. Our only main difference was in our eyes. She thought it was bizarre how green my eyes were, and a strange coincidence that River shared the same color.

  Her email subject was titled “Be careful, this happened three blocks away from your house!”

  Curiosity overtook me, and I clicked the message. A news article was embedded in the email, and my stomach sank to the floor.

  “Authorities say that twenty-two-year-old Rebecca Sinn fell victim to a gruesome animal attack earlier this morning. Her parent’s claim she was in her bedroom when her window was busted through by a large animal, and before they could reach her door, she had been fatally mauled. EMS arrived on the scene shortly after, and she was pronounced dead at 7:45 A.M.. Authorities are unsure what animal attacked this woman, but a cougar is believed to be the culprit. This investigation is still underway. Stay tuned for more updates.”

  The image showed a woman smiling with her arms wrapped around two of her friends. The nature of the crime shook me to my core, reminding me of the same fashion my parents had been killed in. Could this be the same killer? But if so, why come back now? It had to be a coincidence.

  Another shocking revelation hit me. The girl in the photo looked just like me. We could have been twins. Her skin was tan, and her lips were plump. We shared the same dark hair, gliding down past our elbows. She even had green eyes, though not as bright as mine. I forwarded the email to River. Something was definitely astray.

  After finishing up my work, I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. As soon as the fresh air hit my face I was overcome with the scent. Spice and cloves. The stray had been here.

  I cautiously looked around the parking lot. It was past eight P.M. and night was in full swing. A street light lit up the lot, but shadows surrounded me. The stray could easily be hiding in the dark. Feeling the sensation of eyes all around me, I clutched my bag to my chest and sprinted to my car.

  You know the feeling that someone is watching you, or chasing you in the darkness? That’s the sensation I had for the whole five seconds it took me to reach my vehicle and throw myself into the sea
t.

  I quickly locked my doors and sat panting. If the cat was still out here, he would have had plenty of time to pounce on me. The fact that I was still here was a relief in itself. I started my engine.

  Was this stray targeting me? If so, then why?

  The questions triggered a memory from a day before my parents were murdered. They had spent the day arguing, and the night got more sour as it went on.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about him, Joan? I had a right to know!” my father yelled. They were in the living room, and I was huddled in the dark hallway listening to their bickering. They didn’t know I was awake, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they did. They showed no discretion when it came to their spousal disputes, no matter how much it affected their only child.

  “I was trying to protect you! Why can’t you see that?” my mother replied.

  She sat on the couch with a bottle of Sangria in her shaking hands, turning it up after she spoke. Mom hardly ever drank, but when she did we all knew how long the night would last.

  “Protect me?! What about HER? She’s the one who needs protection now! Look at you. Fucking pathetic!” My father grabbed the bottle from my mother and threw it against the wall, shattering the glass and causing our family portrait to fall to the floor.

  I winced and stuffed my fingers in my ears. I could still hear the muffled yells in the background, but it was more bearable this way.

  I pulled myself from my thoughts as I turned into our driveway. All the lights were on, and I saw River peek through the blinds as my headlights hit the window.

  I slammed my car door and ran into the house, locking the doors behind me. Before I could open my mouth to speak, River was talking.

  “He came back here again, I heard scratching on the back door, and when I went to check, I could smell him. I tried to track the scent but lost it.”

  Maybe the stray wasn’t after me then? He had the chance to grab me in the parking lot earlier, but if he was watching, he didn’t make the move. Maybe this wasn’t about me at all, maybe it had something to do with River? The whole mess was confusing, and my head twirled at all the possible theories.