Nischal [leopard spots 9] Read Online Free PDF Page B

of Sabin being gawked at still while he had managed to get free. Nischal pondered the situation for a moment as he watched the people from across the street. He was dressed in such a way that he would stand out, in the stolen clothes he’d taken from a small donation station. There’d been bags of crap tossed beside it, busted-open bags, and he’d grabbed the first things he’d seen that he thought would cover him. He hadn’t found any shoes.
    So he was very conspicuous in the overly big clothes and his bare feet. His hair was all over the place, too. He had a beard—something he hadn’t been able to grow before he’d been captured. But he’d only been a kid really, barely even twenty then. Now he was a damned hairy man.
    Getting noticed would be a mistake. Chances were, people would have noticed him already were it not for the excitement of the shootout or raid, whatever it was. Nischal needed to get somewhere safe, so he could clean up better. Shave, whack off his hair, and perhaps find a way to get some clothes that would fit.
    And he had to find out if Preston was okay. That worry was gnawing at him as intently as the worry over Sabin.
    There was nothing he could do to help his brother now. Nischal would wait until darkness fell, then he’d come back. He’d find a way to get Sabin out of there, and together, they’d be free.
    As for Preston… Nischal’s cock twitched and he sucked in a sharp breath. What was it about the man? Nischal placed a hand over his heart, which had begun to race. Preston called to something in him, and Nischal wouldn’t have any peace until he’d at least spoken to the man.
    That was an understatement. His dick was fully erect and he needed to mate. It was a driving force he’d never experienced before. He’d been horny, before his capture—what twenty-year-old man wasn’t perpetually horny? This was different. It was like some sort of invisible force was pushing him, or pulling him, towards Preston.
    As if to prove the thought true, Nischal blinked and realised he’d been walking again. There was something urging him on, and he didn’t fight it. His groin tingled, his balls drawing tight as he followed his instincts.
    There was a hint of Preston’s spicy scent on the air. Nischal had picked it up unconsciously and was now avidly sniffing, letting the aroma of the man sink into his bones. Nischal could have closed his eyes and found Preston, which should have worried him, but it didn’t.
    Instead thoughts fluttered through his mind, stories he’d heard that he’d thought were perhaps only tales passed down to keep shifters in line. He hadn’t known but one shifter other than his brother, and the things that old Kapuk had told them had seemed fantastical. Stories of mates, soul-bonds, mental bonds—Nischal had only half-listened at times. They’d seemed more like fairy tales than truths. Really, he’d thought the old man was cracked, but now, Nischal wondered. He’d never felt such an irresistible tug to his core.
    Nischal stopped at a worn-looking motel. He thrummed inside with an energy and need that made him want to yowl. Instead, he sought the shelter of a shade tree as he studied the place.
    Preston was there, in one of the rooms. Nischal didn’t know what he was going to do or say when he found him. Honestly, he’d probably come in his jeans just from Preston’s scent, then Preston would call the authorities on him and all hell would break loose.
    Preston had affected him from the beginning, but not like this. Nischal didn’t know if he was being driven to the man because of their separation or in spite of it. He didn’t understand what was going on. A visceral need was controlling him, and his snow leopard was demanding that he pounce on Preston.
    “I have more control than that,” Nischal muttered to himself. His voice was stripped bare from lack of use. He had an accent that would set him apart, too. At least he knew English. He’d picked it up over