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Updated! 1500 words added. Boo-yah!

Please read chapters one, two, three, four, and five, six, and seven 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 Eight

Daisy could feel the change in Christian the moment he entered the library to pick her up. Her first reaction upon seeing him was a very girly squee—which she immediately squelched—and then confusion. It was the way he was standing, with his shoulders slightly hunched, one leg crossed over the other, and his hands buried in the pockets of his black leather jacket. It was the posture of a defensive man. The grim tightness of his jaw, the corded veins that throbbed in the column of his neck underscored the tension that radiated from him in waves. He reminded Daisy of a coiled rattlesnake preparing itself for a strike. She wondered if the phone call he had received earlier had anything to do with his dark mood.

From the day she met him, Christian had exuded self-assurance and confidence that Daisy found attractive. He carried himself like a man who knew what he was good at, what his body was capable of. Daisy initially believed it was arrogance, but no longer. It seemed the longer she was exposed to the man, the more she was forced to revise her opinions about him. In fact, she might even admit to liking the man. Even now, her fingers itched to ease the knot that had formed between his brows. She would offer to massage his neck and shoulders if she weren’t sure he’d bite her head off.

As though he could feel her staring at him, he lifted his head and Daisy busied herself by pretending to straighten the books on the shelf behind her. She didn’t know why she felt so nervous all of a sudden, so aware of him. Just thinking of sitting close to him during their car ride home was enough to make her tremble. She could only blame it on the leopard; she had better self-control than this. Now all she wanted to do was sidle up to him and sniff him and touch his skin. She wanted to crawl up into his lap and curl up against him like a kitten. Taking a deep breath, she balled her hands into fists at her sides, squeezing them tightly until her nails bit into the flesh of her palms. As she sensed Mrs. Sullivan approaching, she forced a smile on her face and turned to face the old woman.

“It’s six o’clock, dear. Closing time,” she said, patting Daisy’s arm. “Were you having so much fun putting away books that you lost track of time? Your poor bodyguard has been waiting patiently for you for a good ten minutes now!” A wicked smile crept across the old woman’s lips as she leaned conspiratorially toward her. “And that’s not a man you should keep waiting for long.”

Chuckling faintly, Daisy excused herself from the old woman and went into the office to grab her purse and coat. She caught her reflection in a small mirror hanging from the wall and paused to check herself out. Her wild hair, still in its chignon, was restrained for now, but the tendrils that have escaped to frame her face warned her of its inevitable revolt. But what was scarier than her unruly hair was the glassy, mildly dazed look in her eyes. They had a dreamy quality to them as though she had spent half the day sitting around smoking weed. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing was shallow, and the beating of her heart reminded her of a midnight drum circle on the beaches of Santa Cruz. A giggle escaped her lips and it was a high, reedy sound. She was giddy and there only one reason for it. Oh, Daisy, this is sooooo not good…

Even the leopard was excited, pushing at her insides, desperate to be let out. Its growl of displeasure reverberated within the confines of Daisy’s skull, causing her to stagger as she approached her bodyguard who was standing by the door. The dizziness only increased the closer she got to Christian and the leopard, demanding exit, had begun clawing at its prison, which just happened to be Daisy’s flesh. She gasped and halted in her steps, sending a mental order to the leopard to calm itself. The leopard made a metaphysical swipe at her brain in retaliation, but grudgingly settled down afterward.

Upon spotting her, Christian pushed off from the wall he was leaning against and gave her a cursory glance from head to toe. He cupped her face between his large hands as he examined her more closely, scanning her eyes as though he was looking for something. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” Daisy pulled away from him. His touch affected her like nothing she had ever known. His nearness alone made every cell in her body dance, which no doubt pleased the leopard to no end. There was nothing it liked more than a party. She really had to Change soon or the damn thing was going to drive her nuts.

“Let’s go, then,” Christian said brusquely, opening the door for the both of them. He took a quick look around before taking her elbow to lead her down the steps. “Alec wants you dressed and ready for dinner within the hour.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on going to dinner in my pajamas,” Daisy told him as she got into the passenger side of his Range Rover. In fact, she had no plans of going to dinner at all. All day she had been fantasizing about getting into her jammies and sitting in front of the TV for a couple of hours to unwind before heading for the family’s reserve to Change and hunt some rabbits. It was the best way, she discovered, to mentally prepare herself for the ordeal.

“You and Alec have a dinner guest tonight,” Christian answered grimly. He slammed the passenger door shut and went around the hood to get to the other side of the SUV. He got in, clicked on his seat belt, and closed his own door more gently. He placed his hands on the steering wheel and gripped it until his knuckles turned white. “One of your suitors has arrived to meet you.”

“One of my what?” But she heard it just fine. Suitor. The word was so archaic that Daisy couldn’t recall ever having used it in conversation without some semblance of irony. She remembered something that the hyenas had said. Alec was planning on foisting her off on the highest bidder. At the time, she thought nothing of it, thinking the hyenas were just talking trash. But apparently, there was something to it. “Is that how Alec is planning to get rid of me, unload me on some bumpkin leopard from God knows where?”

Christian turned in his seat toward her and that was when she smelled it. It was his signature scent that she was already familiar with—a crisp, clean scent that brought to mind running through the trees under a full moon—but underneath it was a stale, musty stench that almost made her gag. It wasn’t a smell she had encountered very often, but she knew what it was. She was a hunter, after all, and deep down, a predator and a killer. And this… this was something else. There was a darkness that accompanied this smell, a certain evil.

“You smell like death,” Daisy gasped, pressing her back against the passenger side door.

Christian silently stared at her for a moment, then faced the steering wheel again, turning the key in the ignition. “One of your women died this morning.” His voice was raw, pained as he spoke. “I don’t know if you know her. Her name was Leila Harris. She was… murdered.” He cleared his throat as he eased the Range Rover away from the curb. “She was seven months pregnant.”

Goosebumps sprouted along Daisy’s arms and the little hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had known Leila Harris. The two of them had gone to high school together and Leila often came over to hang out. They had been friends; she was one of the “acceptable” leopards that the Grand Dame Sawyer had allowed into the house. Leila had ended up marrying one of Alec’s business managers, Jamie, and Daisy had eventually lost touch with her. Not that she really bothered to keep in touch with anyone in the community. She had intentionally severed her ties; she never imagined she would ever return to Redding again. There was a twinge of pain in Daisy’s chest at the thought of her bubbly friend suffering. Leila was one of the good ones. Even though they had not spoken in almost ten years, Daisy grieved for the poor woman. And her unborn child.

But the agony she heard in Christian’s voice as he informed her for Leila’s death told her another story. “Did you know her very well?”

Christian quickly glanced at her before braking for a red light. “She came around the house a few times for dinner with her husband, Jamie. I’ve dealt with Jamie more than her, but she was a very nice woman. Alec called Jamie this morning to let him know.”

But there wasn’t something Christian wasn’t telling her, Daisy was sure of it. She would almost guess he had been having an affair with Leila Harris before she was killed. It was the only thing that would explain the heartbreak she had witnessed in his silver eyes. She swallowed the knot that was forming in her throat. “How… did she die?”

“It’s better that you ask your brother,” he said grimly.

Daisy shook her head. Like Alec had ever been straightforward with her about anything. The man could teach a monk lessons in inscrutability. She didn’t even want to think of him right now. “You said she was murdered.” The word slithered down her spine like a slimy worm. “Do you know by whom?”

Christian threw her a glare before returning his attention to the road. “Do you think if we had any idea who it was, I’d be sitting here with you playing chauffeur? We’d be hanging the bastard by his ankles now and skinning him alive.”

Daisy shivered at the barely restrained fury she sensed from him. The current that flowed between the two of them whenever they were near each other had mutated into something else. It felt more like static electricity now, crackling with friction. Combined with the tension that filled the car, Daisy felt like throwing open the car door and jumping out. But she stayed right where she was, hugging her arms to her chest. She was torn between comforting Christian, who was obviously hurting, and taking care of her own emotional wounds.

What she wouldn’t do right now for a bottle of vodka. She could lose herself in the bottom of it, even if it was just for a couple of hours. Christian had confiscated her bottle of Grey Goose, but she had a veritable treasure trove of those tiny ones she had swiped from the plane and stashed in her overnight bag. Her throat yearned for the smooth burn of the bitter liquid. She was parched, as though she were stuck in a desert and hadn’t had a drop to drink in days. Her body craved for it as much as the leopard craved to escape its human shell. As soon as they got home, she would have to find a way to lock herself in her room—which would prove to be difficult, since her door had no lock—and kill three or four of those tiny bottles. It would be the only way she could deal with Alec. And with the shock of Leila’s death… no, she couldn’t deal with this shit. Not today.

She squeezed her eyes shut and leaned her head back against the headrest. Almost immediately, a vision of slender red-haired woman flashed before her like a movie playing on her eyelids. Leila. She is laughing and dancing in a field of sunflowers, inviting an unseen companion to play with her. In another frame, she is lying on her back, her lifeless eyes staring at the crimson sky above her. She is naked and spread-eagled on a dirt road. Slowly, a faint red line appears from her neck, between her breasts, over her swollen abdomen, and stops right before pubic mound. Along the line, the body is ripped open like meat and an infant, crying silently, spills out of the gaping hole.

“Shit!” Daisy sprang away from the seat and shoved her fingers into her hair, dislodging her chignon. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage and her clothes, drenched in sweat, clung to her body. “Oh, God.” The image of Leila eviscerated and dead remained in her mind’s eye and as hard as she tried, she couldn’t blink it away.

“What?” Christian stopped the car and gave her shoulder a shake. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Daisy looked around for a moment, breathing hard, as she tried to find her bearings. Leila and her poor baby… She realized soon enough that the car was parked in front of Alec’s house. “Oh, God…” She grabbed the sleeve of Christian’s leather jacket and gripped it in her hand. “Was Leila found in a field somewhere cut open from neck to waist and her baby ripped out?”

Christian’s eyes, when he stared at her, were unreadable. “How did you know?”

“Because I saw her!” Daisy buried her face in her hands as her body was wracked with sobs. “I saw her…”

***

Daisy was hysterical, fighting to get out of his arms as he tried to hold her in an attempt to calm her down and make sense of what she was saying. What the hell did she mean she saw her? Alec never mentioned his sister was a clairvoyant. But then again, the man had no idea what Daisy was truly capable of. Christian was just starting to see it for himself. It was clear to him now that Daisy Sawyer was no ordinary leopard.

“Daisy, mon chaton, it’s all right,” he murmured softly into her hair even as she continued to resist him, pushing at his chest and attempting to claw any part of him that she could. One of her talons caught him in the chin and drew blood. But still he kept his arms around her, whispering assurances in her ear, and rubbing her back. Gradually, her trembling quieted and she became pliant in his arms, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

When she lifted her head from his chest, there were tears glittering in her eyes and streaks of mascara on her cheeks. Christian reached under the driver’s seat and pulled out a box of tissues, which he handed to Daisy. He plucked a few himself so he could clean her ravaged makeup from her face. He knew she wouldn’t want Alec to see her this way. She had a tough girl image to maintain with her brother and tough girls didn’t break down in tears. Marveling at the softness of her skin, he swept a lock of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear.

She dropped her gaze to his chin. “Wow, I hope you heal more quickly than I do.” She dabbed at the injured area with her tissue. “You do heal more quickly than I do. It’s all gone.” There was a rueful note to her chuckle. “I could have taken your eye out. Could you have healed that?”

His body could recover from anything, save from a decapitation, and even that could be remedied, if the stories he had heard about his ancestors had any grain of truth to them. He had read in the ancient texts that such spells did exist. Over the years, he had learned that the only injuries his people couldn’t heal were the ones inflicted upon the soul. Once the spirit decided that the body was too tired to carry on, death was inevitable. Not a spell in the world nor any kind of magick could relieve that.

“Perhaps,” he replied, gently rubbing at a particularly stubborn streak of mascara. “But I don’t suggest you try it. It might make me angry. You wouldn’t like me if I’m angry.”

“Who says I like you now?” she retorted archly.

He couldn’t tell her that he could sense her body’s reaction to him. The quickening of her pulse, the breathy little gasps, and the reddening of her cheeks revealed the story of her need for him. The most telling symptom, however, was how his own body responded to her nearness. He had never believed the old wives’ tale that a man could find the one woman he was born to mate with, that their desires could be in such perfect sync that even their life forces—the internal battery—would crave to join as one, weaving in and out of each other’s bodies like two ribbons that are impossibly intertwined. He always thought it was bullshit. But what would explain the electrical current that ebb and flowed between him and Daisy whenever they touched? It’s a damned inconvenient thing, he thought as he brushed her lower lip with his thumb. Daisy Sawyer should not belong to anyone, least of all him.

“I can do that,” she said, taking the tissues from his hand and turning away from him. She flipped down the visor which had a mirror attached to it and began to rub diligently at her cheeks.

“What did you see, Daisy?”

Her hand froze for a moment before it continued its work. Christian couldn’t help but notice the shiver that went through her body at his inquiry and that her free hand, which was sitting on her lap, had begun to tremble. He covered it with his own, but she immediately pulled it away, tucking it against her hip, opposite from where it was. The rejection stung, but he understood her reticence. She wanted him, but didn’t trust him. Not that he had ever given her a reason to do so. He studied the graceful curve of her neck, the stubborn tilt of her jaw, and the pink delicate shell of her ear. He longed to trace with his finger the path that his eyes had taken, but self-preservation prevented him from indulging the urge. If he allowed himself to touch her so freely, he would never be able to stop. And he himself would rather will his own death than hurt her in any manner.

“Has anything like that ever happened to you before today?”

She balled up the tissue in her hand and turned her head toward him. “Do you mean have I ever been eviscerated and left to die in the dirt? No.”

The disturbing image prodded at Christian’s brain, but he banished it before it could take root. Even imagining Daisy suffering the same fate as Leila was enough to make him go out there and blindly search for the killer, even though neither he nor Alec had any leads. “That’s not what I meant. What you saw today, in your vision—have you ever seen anything like it?”

“Thankfully, the torture and savage murder of women is not on my brain’s regularly scheduled program, no,” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “Leila isn’t the first, is she? There have been other women. That’s why Alec has you following me around. How many?”

There had been three others, but none as vicious as Leila’s. He realized, upon seeing Leila’s mutilated body, that the murders were only getting more violent, an observation he related to Alec. Unless they caught the bastard responsible for this, more and more of the females—all of them leopard—will die, each one a more horrible death than the last.

“Four, including Leila,” he confessed. It was time she knew the truth. He had always believed it was foolish of Alec to keep it from her. Daisy wasn’t stupid. She would have found out about the murders eventually. Besides, if she were aware of what was happening to the females of her plan, it might scare her enough that she would become more vigilant of her own safety.

“Four,” Daisy repeated, rubbing her arms with her hands. “And neither you nor Alec thought that I should know about it? The females of my community are getting slaughtered left and right, but you two decided I should be kept ignorant of it?”

He wanted to tell her that he had nothing to do with the decision, but blaming it all on Alec would accomplish nothing, but further incite Daisy’s anger. And who the hell knew what disaster it would bring this time. Since he was the likely target, he really wasn’t looking forward to being ejected from his seat through the windshield.

“I have nothing to say in my defense,” was the only thing he could say.

“Well, at least you’re honest,” she said, giving him a considering look. “Keeping yourself from speaking lies out loud shouldn’t be too hard for you, since you’re about about as talkative as my brother’s giant.” She grabbed her purse from the floor and opened the passenger door. “Well, if I want to be presentable to my suitors, I might as well begin getting ready now. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner when my brother and I have so much to talk about.” She exited the car and slammed the door behind her.

As he watched her stride toward the house, Christian imagined what he would do if anyone dared to hurt the woman. He had never been a violent man and in the past, he had preferred to walk away instead of fighting a battle he could not win. He was tempted to do that now; it was easy enough to start the engine and drive away, without once looking back. But he swore to protect Daisy, to give up his own life for her if he had to. His kind never gave an oath it couldn’t fulfill.

He had already failed an oath once. He had no intention of doing it again.

To be Continued…

____________________________________________

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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