Cat Scratch Fever; Blue-Collar Werewolves V Read Online Free PDF Page B

my love.”
    He watched while she scooted lower. Making
eye contact, she slowly lowered her lips to his twitching sex and
gave a teasing lick. Mathais rumbled, deep in his chest. His
fingers tunneled into her hair. Naomam wrapped her fingers around
him, resisting only slightly as he guided her down. Feminine power
filled her as she took him into her mouth, deep and slow. Mathais
rumbled again in pleasure, bucking gently against her mouth.
    She gave into her desire, grasping his
length in both hands as she sucked and nibbled on his cock. Her
mouth slid down, matching the pace he set. Mathais growled, his
hands tightened in her hair as he bowed up, his seed spilling into
her mouth.
    The dream shifted.
    Mathais, but not-Mathais writhed
in pain, but the restraints held him down. Sweat rolled from his
body; one with significantly less scarring. He was leaner and
taller, but her heart still knew him, whatever form Bastet brought
him back as—he was her soul mate. The Leo moaned and yelled, caught
between torture and the Change.
    Naomi wanted to help him, but she was
trapped. Tears burned her eyes as she stretched through the bars,
trying desperately to reach him. Grief shredded her at the idea of
losing him again, this time to his death. She would pray,
but the goddess abandoned them long ago.
    * * * *
    “Lia.” Naomi started awake at the tiger’s
respectful address and scooted closer to that edge of the cage. Dr.
Drake had provided a lightweight blanket that she used to protect
herself from the bars. “ Lia,” the weretiger hissed.
    “Shhh. I hear you Tigre.” She pronounced it, Tig-ree , recognizing him as a powerful male weretiger. “Let
go of the bars. I can smell your flesh.”
    “No,” The tiger rumbled. “The burn reminds
me that I am alive.” She nodded, though he couldn’t see her. Naomi
had her own tricks to keep her sanity. Though, she could do without
the smell of blistered skin. “Lia, if you would give me your name…”
the tiger paused to cough. “ I will give it on to the Leo when I
pass on.”
    Naomi smiled. Most cats did not bother about
the gods anymore. Some still followed the Bastet the Egyptian
goddess. Some worshipped the Leo—the cursed king prophesied to
return one day. The cat shifters had a rich oral history, so that
the old stories told and retold over the centuries. The truth was
lost in myth and fantasy.
    Her mother claimed that the Leo was Bastet’s
chosen king; he was both lion and tiger. Others campfire stories
said that the king had powers like the psychics. Naomi had heard a
few say that king could change into any cat form at will. The Leo
was a combination Robin Hood, King Arthur, and superhero. Naomi
stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago.
    The panther coughed from her left. “Do not
give up so quickly, Tigre. Where there is life, there is hope.” The
deep rumble of the leopard male’s voice had a raw quality, as if
he’d screamed long and hard before coming here. Torture by the
psychics was nothing new.
    “Still a fighter, leopard?” asked the tiger.
“Just wait until they start carving pieces off of you, or infect
you with their virus to see how long death takes.”
    “What will be, will be,” said the other
male. Naomi envied the newcomer. A calm surety, as if he were still
the master of his own universe imbued the panther’s words. “I’ll
hold out as long as needed.”
    The tiger laughed. The deep sound was full
of all the things that had been done to him. “You’ll die, just like
the rest of us.”
    “Like you said, Tigre. Panthers , like
the rest of the leopards, are fighters. Unlike the tigers and
lions, we do not aspire to be counted among Bastet’s royal line. We
are Her claws, the cat’s paw guided in Her service.”
No malice or sarcasm laced the panther’s simple words. The
leopard-kin were The Leo’s guard in times past, before the
wandering, just as the tigers and lions were once the royal lines.
According to myth, the rare panther, a