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

In a few hours, she would be able to shift and run free under the moon. In a few hours, she would be able to shed her expensive Vera Wang dress as well as human shell. In a few hours, she would become a mindless animal. And she dreaded the moment the transformation would be forced upon her. The Change was not something she looked forward to; it was a painful process, after all. The breaking and reshaping of bones, the tearing of the skin, and the forceful separation of the leopard from the woman, had never been easy for her. For the others in the pack, the Change was as natural as breathing. It was as easy as visualizing themselves as the leopard, then becoming the leopard. It was not just some psycho-babble bullshit. For the stronger members of the pack, it was truly as simple as that. For Daisy, who had been engaged in a tug-of-war with her leopard for as long as she could remember, the Change was hell.

And she usually spent the entire day mentally and physically preparing herself for it. In LA, she would start out with an early morning jog as well as a couple of hours of yoga and meditation. That part was for her mind. To prepare her body, she would consume a vast amount of carbohydrates for energy while sitting in front of the TV. When she was good and ready, she would drive to Topanga Canyon, pick a bush to hide in, and wait for the moon to initiate the Change. The morning sun often found her dirty, disoriented, and slightly sick from all the meat she had consumed the night before. Oh, and naked. A few hikers had come across her in such a state before, but they probably assumed she was just one of the weirdo hippies who lived in the canyon and left her alone. Bedraggled and weary, she would drag herself to her car, drive home, and spend the entire day immersed in warm water and lavender bubbles.

She had no time to do any of those things today. Her time at the library took up much of her day. On top of that, she felt emotionally as well as physically exhausted. As if her run-in with the psychotic hyenas wasn’t enough, the discovery that the females of her pack were being systematically slaughtered, tore a hole in her soul. Even now, she was afraid to close her eyes for fear she would see Leila’s eviscerated body. The anguish on her face, the pain she obviously suffered, and the baby that was ripped out of her stomach and tossed aside like garbage… Daisy wrapped her arms around her middle and slowly sank to her knees. For a moment, during her hellish vision, she had actually felt as though she were Leila. Her flesh had suffered each blow, each cut, each slash. She had felt what it was like to die. What was almost worst than the physical pain inflicted upon her was the realization that Leila had known her killer. It was that stab of betrayal that had weakened the woman’s resolve to live.

Was the killer one of them? Did Alec have any idea who it was? The thought that someone she knew could treat Leila’s body with such disrespect made Daisy sick to her stomach. Christian had confessed that there were three other victims. Did they recognize their killer, too? Grasping her head between her hands, Daisy wondered why she was able to “witness” only Leila’s death. If other women had been murdered, why had she not been able to see theirs? It was not as though she and Leila were particularly close; they were friends once, but they had lost touch over the years. She could only thank her lucky stars that she had not been able to witness the deaths of the other females. She was not sure if she would have been able to handle it. She could barely think about Leila now without wanting to curl herself up into a ball and cry herself hoarse.

The slight tingling at the base of her skull announced the arrival of a girl who looked to be a few years younger than herself. Daisy pushed herself up from the floor, surprised to see the petite blond standing in the doorway of her bedroom. She had not seen another leopard in the house besides Alec, Caleb, and Alfred since she had arrived. All of the servants were human. And yet there was a young leopard female only a few feet away, dressed in a gray cable-knit sweater that seemed two sizes too big for her slender frame and a loose black skirt that hung midway down her calf. Daisy glanced down at the girl’s hands which were busy picking at the edges of her sleeves. Beads of sweat had formed on the young leopard’s pale forehead and she was gnawing on her lower lip hard enough that Daisy could see flecks of blood on her tiny white teeth.

Whoever she was, she was not particularly powerful. There was no skin-crawling itch, no prickling sensation. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes and concentrated hard enough, she could see those tiny ants. They were gold and glowed in the dark, marching along her arms and legs. Sometimes she imagined she could flick them off one by one and it made her feel better. With this girl, it wouldn’t be too hard to banish the ants because there weren’t too many of them. Her grandmother’s ants, however, used to swarm over her, threatening to overwhelm and consume her. When Grandmother was angry, it was worse. There were times when the ants managed to get inside her, crawling all over her bones and flesh as well as her skin. Once, it got so bad that she passed out from the pain and woke up to find Grandmother standing over her, glaring at her in disgust.

“Hello,” Daisy said softly, making the girl jump. “What’s your name?”

“J-Julie.” The girl sprang away from the doorjamb, started to offer her hand for Daisy to shake, then seemed to change her mind, and dropped it again.

“Nice to meet you, Julie.” Relieved to encounter another female in the house after three long days, Daisy grabbed the girl’s hand herself, and gave it a firm shake. It was cold and clammy. The poor thing was obviously petrified. Had Alec been telling her horror stories about the Abominable Daisy Sawyer? She sighed. It was pretty likely. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm… I… work for your brother. I’m a receptionist at his office.” She cleared her throat and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. “He asked me to come by today and see if you need any help. But I can see that you don’t— you look beautiful tonight. Um…” She glanced over her shoulder at the open door, as though contemplating her exit. She returned her wide-eyed gaze to Daisy. “Unless you do need me. I mean, I can hang out or whatever and—”

“Sit over there.” Daisy pointed to her bed. Julie dipped slightly at the knees in a curtsey and immediately obeyed, parking her butt carefully on the corner of Daisy’s bed as though she were afraid to mess up the covers.

Daisy shook her head. She opened her mouth to comment on the girl’s behavior, but stopped, realizing it would just make things worse. Turning away from her, Daisy faced the full-length mirror and studied her reflection. She forgot about Julie soon enough as she received a good look at herself. There were purplish half-moons under her eyes—which seemed to be beyond her healing capabilities as a shifter—and her black mane, which had become poofy despite the plastic cap she had worn while taking a hot shower, only added to her slightly dazed, crazy woman look. She ran a brush through the strands just enough to get rid of the tangles and twisted the entire mass into a bun on the back of her head, securing it with half a dozen pins. But the attempt was not altogether successful. It felt loose and would probably come tumbling down during dinner, knocking over her soup bowl.

“I can style it into a french braid, if you want,” Julie shyly offered.

Daisy forced herself to smile at her. Though it was not the girl’s fault, Daisy couldn’t help but felt a trace of irritation at her meekness. Did she think Daisy would bite her head off, maybe even throw a cell phone at her a la Naomi Campbell? She ran a hand through her hair, effectively dislodging her makeshift bun, causing the whole thing to tumble down her shoulders in waves like heavy drapes. “Great,” she muttered. She looked at Julie who appeared both nervous and hopeful. “Okay. Give it a shot.”

The young leopard’s blue eyes lit up as Daisy sat next to her on the bed. She stood up immediately, grabbed a hairbrush, and began to run it through Daisy’s hair, gently at first as though she were afraid about what Daisy would do if she accidentally pulled at her scalp, but as she became more confident, the strokes became firmer and more sure.

Daisy felt it as Julie began to part her hair in sections in preparation for the braid. She had to admit that the girl’s hands didn’t feel too bad. She could hardly believe that she could sit so close to another leopard and not have to go through the terrible itch. She had never known too many female leopards, so she didn’t have a basis for comparison, but it seemed the itch was not so bad when she was around females. It was still there, but it wasn’t terrible. The only female that made her feel like tearing her own skin off was her grandmother. The Grand Dame Sawyer was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

Julie was just finishing up with her hair when Daisy felt it. That warm, buzzing sensation that came over her whenever Christian was nearby. Her pulse, much to her annoyance, began to race and her mouth became inexplicably dry. She looked up just as he entered the room, wearing a pair of black jeans and a navy-blue button down shirt. His hair was still wet, so he had obviously just stepped out of the shower, and his feet were bare. Daisy found herself staring at his big toe before forcing her gaze up to meet his eyes.

“You look nice,” he said simply.

Daisy was not about to tell him that he looked so frickin’ sexy that he took her breath away and that his scent made her want to shove him to the floor and ravish him. The leopard growled in approval inside her head. But the sight of him also brought back the nightmarish images of Leila’s death. She dropped her gaze to the beaded mini-dress she wore and had the sudden urge to rip it off. How could she even think of dressing up and looking pretty when her friend was not even buried yet? She plucked at the delicate material. The dress, which couldn’t weight more than a half a pound, was suddenly as tight and restricting as a full suit of armor.

As though sensing what she was feeling, he crossed the room in two strides and sat next to her, brushing the back of his hand against her cheek. “It’s all right, mon chaton. I will protect you.”

Daisy leaned into his hand, if only for a moment, to savor his touch. She was tempted to bury her face against his chest and allow him to envelope her with his arms. The current that flowed between them was there, unnerving yet strangely comforting at the same time. It was the one thing she had come to count on these last few days. His now familiar scent, his constant presence, and his quiet strength had helped establish a semblance of normalcy in an environment that wasn’t altogether welcoming. She squeezed her eyes shut in order to avoid his penetrating gaze. It would be so easy to drop her head on his shoulder, bury her face in his neck, and fall into him. She took a deep breath and sighed, opening her eyes to find him gazing at her lips. His other hand was cradling hers on his lap, his thumb drawing a circle in the middle of her palm.

There was a light tug on her scalp and she glanced over her shoulder where Julie still stood, awkwardly holding the end of her braided hair. Daisy had forgotten she was there. The girl was staring at her own feet and there were two bright red spots on her cheeks. Feeling slightly embarrassed herself, Daisy pulled her hair out of the girl’s grip and yanked her hand from Christian’s. God, had she been about to make with him when there was another person in the room, standing less than a foot away from them? But that was his power over her; he had the uncanny ability to make her forget the rest of the world existed so she could focus only on him. It was dangerous and she hated it. Even now, she wished they were alone so she could wrap her arms and legs around him like some needy child. She had never felt anything like it, yet here she was, for the first time in her life depending on some man—this man—to banish her pain and soothe the razor-thin cuts on her soul. She didn’t like it at all.

“Well, I better finish getting ready,” she said lightly, deliberately turning away from Christian. “You should probably get out of here and see if Alec needs you or something. I’m sure the two of you have more secret man-things to talk about, like marrying me off to a complete stranger or something.”

His eyes narrowed into slits and Daisy could swear that the room temperature dropped a few degrees. She rubbed at the goosebumps that had sprouted on her arms, but not because she was cold. On the mirror she could see the window, which revealed a jagged bolt of lightning slashing across the gray sky. It was immediately followed by thunder, which reminded her of a roaring lion. Christian was angry. The grimness of his jaw told her he was probably grinding his back teeth and his hand, which has tightened into a fist on his lap, showed her knuckles that had gone white. Inside of her, the leopard had gone absolutely still, though she could feel the tension building up on its hind legs. It was gearing up for an attack.

Daisy, on the other hand, was just scared. Christian’s anger was a blanket of fog, surrounding her body, somehow seeping into her and chilling her to the marrow of her bones. The room was lit up by another lightning, then rocked by a thunder that shook the walls with its intensity. The current that flowed between them cackled like static electricity, making the little hairs on her arms and neck stand on end. She knew she should shove him away, lock herself up in the closet, and pray he would go away, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t.

Warily, she raised her hand to touch his face until her fingers hovered mere millimeters from his skin. A force, unlike anything she had ever felt before, seemed to be drawing her closer to him. It was so palpable she could almost see it: like tiny silver ribbons threading out of him and into her, in and out of their bodies, meant to bind them together. She cupped his face between her hands and the fury that burned like cold fire in his eyes seemed to subside. She brought his face closer to hers until their lips were merely a breath apart.

“Julie,” she managed to gasp. “Get out of here.”

The young wereleopard complied quickly, practically running out of the room.

And then they were alone. Outside, the skies opened up and released a torrent of rain. The drops that rhythmically pelted her window sill matched the pulse thudding in her throat. Daisy slid her arm across Christian’s neck and pressed herself against him. Still, their lips did not touch, though their tips of their noses brushed together.

“Daisy,” he muttered thickly. “Do not do this.”

“There is nothing else,” she whispered. “Nothing else but this moment…”

Christian made a sound that was a cross between a curse and a groan, then closed the gap between them, covering Daisy’s mouth with his own. A puff of air escaped from Daisy’s lips at the contact. Whether it was a sigh of despair or relief, she couldn’t say, but as she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, everything else in the world ceased to exist. He tasted like mouthwash, man, and freshly cut grass. There is a buzzing noise inside her skull. She felt as though she were free-falling. No, plunging towards the earth like a giant flaming ball. Christian’s tongue swept into her mouth, exploring and tasting, delving into the depths of her soul. Over their heads, the silver ribbons danced and snaked into the tiny space between their bodies, wrapping one end of itself around Christian and the other around Daisy, binding the two of them together. Daisy sneaked her hand into Christian’s shirt, pressing her palm against the ridges of his muscled abdomen. Inside of her, the leopard purred its pleasure. This, she thought, is what it must feel like to die and be reborn at the same time. This… is… eternity…

Daisy shoved Christian away and gasped, covering her face as she struggled to catch her breath. Her lungs burned as though she had been holding her breath. Already her arms and mouth were missing Christian. But she was grimly aware that he had retreated behind that wall of ice again and was no longer within her reach. She touched her lips, which felt hot and swollen against her fingers, and took a deep, steadying breath. Her heart was slamming itself against her ribcage, as though it were determined to escape the confines of her chest. Her knees were knocking together as she stood and she felt a little light-headed, but somehow she managed to remain on her feet and make it across the room to the full-length mirror so she could inspect herself.

Gripping the edges of the mirror, she examined her face and stared into her own eyes. She didn’t know what she was expecting to see there, but she looked the way she had always looked. Her eyes were the same bottle-green they always were and weren’t twinkling or anything. Sure, her cheeks were a little flushed and her lips, though she hadn’t applied any lipstick, were as red as over-ripe strawberries, but on the surface, her appearance had not changed. The kiss, which turned her universe inside-out and made every inch of her body sing, had no superficial effect on her. She watched in the mirror as Christian himself stood up, sticking his hands into his pockets. It was a defensive move and one that made Daisy want to reach out to him, but she could tell from the way he was looking at her, like she was a bug floating in his drink, that he had already decided to put the incident out of his mind. Which was just fine by her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who dissected what every look, touch, and kiss meant, anyway. She could ignore that the last five minutes had happened as well as he could.

Outside, the rain continued to rage on.

“Are you ready?” Christian asked quietly.

Daisy met his eyes in the mirror. She tried to muster up a saucy smile, maybe say something bitchy or snarky, but it seemed her snark reserve was tapped out. All she wanted now was to get the evening over with, but the night had yet to even begin. There was the dinner, the leopard’s run, and then there was waking up in the middle of nowhere the next morning, trying to remember how she had gotten there or if her darker half had done anything the night before that she would get arrested for. She passed a hand over her hair as she gave herself another once-over. The young one had done a good job restraining her wild hair; paired with her white Vera Wang cocktail dress, she looked almost virginal. Alec would most certainly approve.

“I’m ready.” She did not resist when Christian took her elbow and led her out of the room and down the stairs. But she could not help the shiver that danced down her spine the moment he touched her. Will she ever get used to the dizzying sensation that overcame her whenever his skin brushed against hers?

As they walked toward the dining room, she took several calming breaths in an attempt to calm her rapidly beating heart and thought of the bottle of Ativan she had stashed in a shoebox in her closet. The Percocet subdued the itch, but it was Ativan she took when she felt like jumping out of her own skin. She inhaled more deeply, holding it in for a few moments, before releasing it in one shaky exhale. Christian, as though detecting her distress, slid his hand from her elbow down her forearm, linking his fingers with hers and giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. She glanced furtively at him only to find him staring at her. His eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips tilted upward.

She couldn’t remember if he had ever smiled at her before. It did very, very bad things to her insides. Forcing her gaze away from him lest she make a bigger fool of herself, she switched her attention to the dining table where two very large men were already sitting. One of them was Alec, of course, dressed in his customary black and his hair scraped back from his proud forehead and tied back in a queue. His right eyebrow twitched almost imperceptibly, an acknowledgment of Daisy’s arrival.

The man to Alec’s right, however, was unknown to Daisy. She hadn’t seen his face yet, but she could see that his blond hair was short and stood in bristles half an inch from his skull. He was dressed in a charcoal suit tailored to his impressive form and Daisy could see, on the hand splayed out on the mahogany table, that his middle finger was sporting an ornate looking ring decorated with some kind of insignia. The two men, seemingly engaged in a deep conversation, rose as Daisy and Christian approached and turned to face them.

As Daisy gawked at the prettiest man she had ever seen in her life, it slowly dawned upon her that this man, whoever he was, was not a leopard. He was definitely a cat, but she couldn’t quite pinpoint the flavor. His eyes, when they settled on her, were a devastating blue and gleamed appreciatively as he surveyed her from head to toe. He had the face of an angel… or perhaps that of the devil himself. High cheekbones, a strong jawline, a cleft on his chin, and a rigid, aquiline nose: he was a sculptor’s dream. As if his ridiculous good looks weren’t enough, the smile that spread across his face was what she would call—if she were inclined to do so—positively dreamy.

“My sister,” Alec said, commanding her attention. “I would like to present to you Marcus Hargrove, the Chieftain of the Oregon were-lions.”

To be Continued…

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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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