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Please read chapters one, two, three, and four if you haven’t already.

After five years, Daisy Sawyer has finally come home. Not that she’s too happy about it. She had a great life in LA: rubbing elbows with celebrities, hopping from one exclusive bar to the other, and best of all, she didn’t have to answer to anyone. But when a drunken night of partying lands her in jail, the only person she can count on is her estranged brother, Alec, the leader of a powerful were-leopard clan. Forced to choose between a prison sentence or face the life she abandoned years ago, Daisy returns… but she doesn’t have to like it…

Christian LeBeau owes Alec Sawyer his life. He will do anything for the man, even babysit his bratty baby sister. But Christian never imagined that Daisy could grow up to be so beautiful… and forbidden in more ways than one. His mind tells him she is the one woman he can never have, but his body refuses to listen. All he has to do is take care of Daisy until Alec finds her a proper were-leopard to marry, then Chris could wash his hands of her and get on with his life… but fate seems to have other plans.

And now, I present to you… Chasing Daisy…

Chapter Five

Daisy slammed the door to the bathroom and pressed her back to it. Her hand sought the pulse at the base of her neck. It thudded against her fingers, a strong and steady tattoo against her fingers. She slid down the smooth, cool wood until her butt touched the marble floor.

She touched her arms, warily at first, afraid she would get zapped. Her skin tingled with electricity, the little hairs crackling with the charge as her hands brushed over them. He didn’t even have to touch her. He only had to be in the same room and she would feel this… current flowing between them. Just being near him made her feel this way. Like she was holding a metal fork and standing in front of a socket with the devil’s impulse to stick the tines into it. It was not an uncomfortable sensation, but the trepidation of being electrocuted and thrown across the room was enough to make her nervous about the man.

“What is happening?” she asked herself and was surprised to hear the words spoken out loud.

It was her biggest clue that the man wasn’t human. Humans made her feel nothing, while fellow leopards made her skin crawl. She knew how to deal with either group. She had her arsenal of tricked-out defensive measures and pithy comebacks. She had memorized which lies to tell to whom. She could handle them. But Christian was the only person who has ever made her feel… out of sorts. He spun her right round, baby, right round like a record, baby… right round, round, round. She clutched her head with her arms as though to shield it from blows and lowered her forehead to her knees. How could she protect herself against him when she didn’t even know what the hell he was?

He was like the last song that got stuck in a loop inside your head because it was the last one you heard while getting out of your car. He never strayed far from her thoughts. He hovered over her, mentally and physically. Like last night, when he came to her room to fetch her for dinner. Alec had summoned her to the table, but she had refused, electing to lock herself in her room. She had planned to wait until he went away, then bribe some leopard to get her some pizza and sneak it into her room. She figured she could munch on some cheesy goodness while gorging herself on a Law & Order: SVU marathon. But that didn’t happen. Instead, Christian had popped the hinges on the door and opened it that way. Then he leaned against the jamb with his arms folded in front of his chest. Daisy had thrown a sneaker at his head, nailing him square on the forehead, but he didn’t even flinch. When he offered politely to carry her over his shoulder and take her downstairs that way, Daisy had to relent. She had no doubt in her mind that he would do it. And she couldn’t risk being touched by him.

During dinner, he sat in front of her and watched her silently as though he were making sure she ate every green bean and potato that she had piled high on her plate. Conversation, to say the least, was strained. She had refused to speak to Alec and Christian only offered monosyllabic responses when Alec turned to him. At least she didn’t itch like a crackhead this time around. She couldn’t have dealt with it on top of everything else. For some reason, Christian seemed to dampen the crawling-skin symptoms. She still suffered some discomfort, but for the first time, she didn’t feel like ripping her own skin off with her talons. He was like a really sexy bottle of Caladryl.

After dinner, he replaced the knob on her door with the kind that didn’t lock.

And then there were the dreams. This morning she had woken up with his smell in her nose and the taste of his kiss on her tongue. She didn’t even know what he tasted like, but she imagined it would be sinful—like a Cuban cigar or an old single malt whiskey. Or a whole bar of Valrhona’s Le Noir Gastronomie, which sounded more like an opera than a brand of chocolate. Her own body, which had been covered in sweat, yearned for his touch. Her breasts begged to be caressed by his hands, her lips devoured by his mouth. The leopard, trapped with the confines of her skin, clawed at her insides, desperate to be released. She had almost dashed for Christian’s room and thrown herself at his bed. She could only thank Alfred for breaking the spell by barging in and yanking her back to reality.

Thinking about it now, she banged the back of her head against the door. She couldn’t stand feeling this way, unable to control her emotions, a slave to her body’s needs. She hated it. And she hated that she felt it for him. She did not like the way he looked at her, like she was a piece of gum that he couldn’t quite scrape off from the bottom of his shoe. He didn’t even know her; everything he knew came second-hand from Alec and she seriously doubted they were positive endorsements. On top of that, she had been a royal bitch to everyone, which only served to reinforce whatever it was that Alec did tell him.

She shook her head in disgust. “Why do I even give a shit?”

And she really, really didn’t want to. Why should she care if one of Alec’s toadies thought the worst of her? I don’t, I don’t, I don’t… Still, it would go a long way making her feel better if she knew that Christian was secretly obsessed with her. The least he could do was desire her madly. She was aware of her effect on men. She knew they found her attractive. But Christian did not think she was cute. Not even a little bit.

There was nothing in those silver eyes that indicated the contrary.

Hell, maybe he was gay. He and Alec seemed awfully chummy and she had never seen her brother show interest in women. At dinner, the way the two men looked at each other, told her they had some secret communication thing going on. She sighed. Good thinking, Daisy, very mature. She was no better than some jock-itch who thinks there has to be something wrong with a woman who doesn’t find him attractive: like, she’s a lesbian.

It was just as well. She couldn’t afford to feel anything for a man like him. She wouldn’t know how to deal with it.

She reached into the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the bottle of Grey Goose she had stashed there. She didn’t care much for the taste of it without a chaser, but it was the only thing that seemed to dull the effect of the leopards’ effect on her. Vodka and a handful of Percocet. The mixture would probably send a human to an early grave, for but her, it was just enough to take the edge off. It especially came in handy during the full moon. It was also good way to kill her inconvenient tendency to brood and ruminate about the sad state of her life.

Drunk was definitely better than being a whiny bitch.

The buzz crept up on her, brushing against her mind like a cat seeking affection. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the pleasant dizziness, her body melting into the cold marble floor. She always liked this stage of the buzz: the gradual loosening of the limbs, the floating sensation, and best of all, the I-don’t-give-a-fuck feeling. She could stay this way for a couple of hours. She wished she could sustain it for a whole day, but her metabolism wouldn’t permit it. Still, a couple of hours of I-don’t-give-a-fuck was nice. And she would have been fine staying exactly where she was if the door had not threatened to collapse on her a moment later. Someone was determined to break it down and each subsequent thud felt like a boot to her head.

“What the hell is taking you so long? Did you O.D. In there?”

Daisy lifted one eye and groaned, pushing herself away from the door lest it exploded on her. She propped herself up on her hands and knees and crawled toward the claw-footed tub. With an exhausted sigh, she sagged against the side of it, draping her heavy limbs over the rim.

The door burst open soon after.

Christian took one look at her and strode across the room. “Jesus,” he muttered, picking her up from the floor.

There had been no time to avoid his touch. At her best, she would have been able to leap out of his reach. She could always run faster and leap higher than most of the leopards she knew. But that vodka must been packing a secret punch because she felt as though her brain was swimming in molasses. Inside her mouth, her tongue felt clumsy and thick, which might have been why her head felt like it weighed forty pounds. If she could just break through to the surface and tell Christian she was okay. But his touch felt so good… like tiny little flames licking her skin. But it was the kind of fire that seared only her soul.

“Goddamn it, Daisy, what did you take?” he demanded. When she didn’t immediately answer, he gave her a shake. “Tell me!”

She couldn’t open her mouth. Her lips seemed to be super-glued together.

“You stupid, stupid girl. Wake up!”

Why was he so mean to her? Maybe if she kissed him, he would be nicer to her. No, that wouldn’t work. He didn’t even like her. He was just a thug that Alec hired to babysit her because he didn’t trust her. The fucker. If she could move her arm, she would punch him in the head. Why wouldn’t her arm move? If she could just move her arm… God, his hand felt good on her butt. It was so warm and big and strong. She pressed her cheek against his chest and inhaled. And he smelled so good. Why was she even thinking about punching him? She would much rather bury her face in his neck and smell him all day, maybe lift up his shirt and check out the muscles she just knew would be hiding underneath…

“Come on, Daisy, open your eyes. Don’t make me call Alec.”

Alec. He was in league with Alec. He was just another asshole in a long line who would hurt and betray her. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need his arms around her, cradling her against him like she was a small, delicate thing. She didn’t need his fingers gently brushing her hair out of her face. She didn’t need—

“Shit!”

And just like that, she was ripped out of his arms. Suddenly, Christian was shouting her name and she was sailing through the air. She managed to open her eyes just as she landed in the middle of her bed and lifted her head when she heard a loud crash in the bathroom. With all of the strength left in her body, she pried herself off the mattress and ran to the doorway. The sight that welcomed her was enough to make her scream. There was a giant indentation on the marble wall above the bathtub and Christian himself was a tangle of arms and legs. His chin was touching his chest and a curtain of dark hair covered his face. He was not moving.

Daisy felt her heart drop to her knees. “Oh God, oh God, I killed him…” She rushed to his side and gingerly touched his shoulder. “Christian? Are you okay?”

But she had no time to assess the damage she had wrought upon her bodyguard. The feeling of a blanket of ants wrapping itself around her announced the arrival of her brother.

“Fuck, Daisy, what the hell did you do to him?”

Before Daisy could answer, Christian groaned and stirred, prompting Daisy to tear her attention away from her Alec’s accusing glare. She brushed the back of her hand against Christian’s cheek and ignored the shiver that ran up her arm. How badly was he injured? As she watched, the bleeding cut above his left brow knitted together and healed.

Christian reached up and held her hand for a second before thrusting it away from him. “I”m fine.” There was a smirk on his face when he looked up. “Learned my lesson. Never bother a leopard before her morning coffee.”

Daisy opened her mouth to protest, but the look Christian gave her before turning to Alec made her shut up. She took a deep, stabilizing breath and pressed herself against the wall. The bathroom, which was as big as her bedroom in LA, suddenly felt tiny.

“Good one, man, you could have been killed.” Alec extended a hand to his friend and easily pulled him out of the tub. “You sure you’re all right? Do you want me to call the healer?”

“Dude, I’m fine,” Christian said, brushing off bits of marble from his shirt. “Your little sister has one hell of a right hook.”

Daisy stared at the man in surprise and wondered why he was lying for her. Christian was not looking at her, but there was something in his stance that told her he wanted her to keep quiet. What the hell could she possibly say that wouldn’t make her sound crazy? Hey, big brother, I tried to kill my bodyguard with my brain. It was totally impossible. It was not something she had ever been able to do. No, it didn’t happen. It couldn’t have. And that was why she shouldn’t say anything.

“And why would Daisy be punching you?”

Christian lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Tried to get her out of bed. Figured she needed some time to pretty herself up before heading out or she’ll be late for her first day at the library.”

Alec, who seemed satisfied with Christian’s answer, turned toward Daisy. “A ‘fuck off’ would have sufficed, little sister. You don’t need to add aggravated assault to your list of crimes.”

“Whatever,” Daisy muttered, pushing past Alec to get out of the bathroom. When the men continued to stare at her like she had sprouted another head, she glowered at the both of them. “If it’s not too much to ask, could you gentlemen leave so I can finish prettying myself up?”

“If you say so,” Alec replied, heading for the door. “And hurry it up, will you? I don’t want your probation officer coming to the door looking for you.”

“Never a dull moment around here,” Christian murmured when Alec was gone.

Daisy looked at him. He was watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. She vigorously rubbed her arms up and down. In the commotion, she had completely forgotten she was only wearing a thin tank top and panties. “Well, I should… umm, I should get ready.”

Christian gave a brief nod. “You can use my bathroom, if you wish. I wouldn’t want you to cut your feet on the broken marble back there.”

“I heal quickly.”

“Nevertheless.”

Daisy tugged at his sleeve as he turned to leave. “Hey, listen, I’m sorry about—”

“You shouldn’t apologize for something you didn’t do.”

Daisy frowned. “But…”

“Shut up, Daisy. For once, do as your told.” He returned to the bathroom. When he came back out, he was carrying the Grey Goose and the small orange bottle of Percocet. “You have five minutes. Or I’m gonna come back and drag you out of here.”

“Thank you.”

He didn’t respond as he walked out of the door.

***

The clock on the dashboard of Christian’s Range Rover read seven-fifty. In her hands, Daisy cradled the travel mug of coffee that Alfred had prepared for her. Christian sat in the driver’s seat, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel in time with the light rain hitting the roof of the car. Coltrane’s “Lazy Bird” played softly in the background.

The three-story brick building that housed the town’s library was ten feet outside of the car. The white double doors were closed due to the weather, but the sign indicated it was open. Daisy sipped her coffee and grimaced. Alfred put too much sugar. She placed the mug in the caddy in front of her and picked up her purse, placing it on her lap.

“I’ll stick around for a bit to check the place out.”

“Yeah.” Daisy tugged her jacket tighter around her body. “I should go.”

“All right.” Christian stepped out of the car and walked around the front to the passenger side. He took a quick look around, scanning the immediate area before opening Daisy’s door. “Wait,” he said before Daisy could get out.

“What?” she demanded.

He held up his hand as if it were enough to make her stay in the car. Daisy was about to tell him he was being ridiculous when a strange sensation skittered along her spine. It was similar enough to the crawling-ants feeling, but there was something different about it. It wasn’t just itchy; it was sharp and rough, scraping against her skin like sandpaper. Daisy looked up beyond the dashboard and found a man and a woman standing next to the lamp post five feet away. The woman was a redhead, dressed like a tranny hooker in a leopard-print tube dress that clung to her ample curves. Her outfit was completed with torn black fishnet stockings and black knee-high boots. The man was wearing a black t-shirt with the sleeves torn off and red leather pants. There was a silver chain that ran from a loop attached to his nose and disappeared under his shirt. Daisy guessed it was attached to his nipple. She also surmised that the pair was not up early, but rather having a late night.

“Stay,” Christian said, pressing his back to the passenger side window as though he was trying to shield her.

“What are they?” she asked. She sounded breathless. Butch up, Daisy…

“Hyenas.”

Stay tuned next week for Chapter Six…

____________________________________________

Dionne Galace lives in San Diego, California, just a few minutes away from the beach. She enjoys body-surfing, swimming, hiking, and trolling around comic book stores. She is a huge fan of The X-Files and lives in hope that she will see Mulder and Scully get married… in any shape or form. She is not a fan of hulabaloos or tomfooleries, but is quite fond of shenanigans. She is currently working on a kickass YA novel that somebody, anybody should buy already… ’cause it’s kickass. Ask Shuzluva.

Stealing is not cool. Ask Jane from Dear Author, if you don’t believe me. Props to April Martinez for the fabulous cover. She is one talented, gorgeous babe. Join me in giving her a terrorist fist jab over these internets.

Note: Hey, other writer-types, do you want to contribute to The Serial? If so, holla at yo gurl and I’ll hook you up, yo.

Till, then… Love, peace, and snarkage, my babies. Peace!

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