Page 65 of Bad Blood Panther

“Good luck with that,” Jenny said. “Once he gets started…” Brandon had worked up a good head of steam, kicking his feet against the seat and yelling. His face was bright red.

Trace winced as a particularly loud scream split the air. “Jesus fuck, shut him up!”

He lunged at Jenny this time, and she grabbed his wrist with one hand, stopping it inches from her face. With the other, she let her claws rip out and brought them to his jugular. Her voice was low and deadly. “Try. I will rip your fucking throat out.”

Trace narrowed his eyes. He was holding onto his bravado, but she felt him swallow hard.

“In front of your son?” he asked.

Jenny’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ve spent way too much time with those crazy shifters in Tennessee. You have no idea what bad habits they’ve taught me.”

Brandon’s attention had been distracted by the drama going on next to him. Now he fastened his dark, enigmatic gaze on Trace. He gave a leftover sniffle.

Then he turned to Jenny and said, “Kill it?”

“Not yet, baby.” Jenny said, her eyes still locked on Trace. “Maybe later.”

Brandon pouted.

Trace looked from her to Brandon and back again. “Jesus fuck,” he muttered again. He pulled his hand out of her grasp, and went to sit on the other side of the plane.

Jenny opened her water and took a sip, the cold liquid soothing her dry throat.

Xander would have been proud.

When they got to the private airfield near Broken Hill, they bundled her and Brandon into a car with tinted windows. It was less than an hour from the airport to the crew’s territory, but Brandon was already worn out with traveling. He dozed, head in her lap, and she stroked his hair, trying to quiet the questions running around and around in her mind.

Did Xander know where they were? Had they captured him already, or were they using her as bait? If the meeting was a setup, was Flynn okay?

She couldn’t believe they’d gotten the drop on Flynn, or managed to seriously hurt him. All the stories made him out to be indestructible.

But it only took one bullet to the head… No. She refused to think it.

When they got to Broken Hill, the car drove straight up the dirt road to one of the small empty bachelor cabins. There were too many of those—too many dead warriors, too many lost for no damn reason.

For the first time, she almost wished Brandon would grow up to be alpha of this cluster fuck. Straighten these assholes the hell out. Make them back into a real crew, one that cared about each other and tried to make a better life for all of them.

But they probably wouldn’t last that long.

Alton wanted Brandon here as evidence that they would—that they’d survive and thrive at least long enough for him to grow up and lead them to whatever bullshit “glory” he wanted to imagine.

But she wasn’t going to let her son be used for that. No fucking way.

They escorted her and Brandon roughly into the cabin and left them there, with guards at the front and back.

At least there was food here—a few basics and some things in the freezer. She made Brandon a hot dog, and heated up some canned soup for herself. It was hard to eat, but she managed to choke it down.

She needed strength.

She was just finishing up the dishes when she heard the door open.

Awesome. No knocking. Another reminder that she was a prisoner, not a resident or a guest. She hoped to hell it wasn’t Alton.

Nope, it was almost worse.

Cindi.

They faced each other across the tiny cabin. “Why the hell did you come back here?” Cindi hissed. “You’re going to ruin everything.”

Was she kidding? “Right,” Jenny said. “Because I called Alton up and begged to be kidnapped and taken away from my true mate, so my son could be warped by his insanity. Why the hell didn’t you manage to make him forget us? Your bitch mojo not working the way it used to?”

Cindi advanced on her, keeping her voice low. “He can’t let go of the idea that Brandon is his,” she said. “Because otherwise, he’d have to face the fact that he fucked all those females and none of them bore a cub. He’s afraid people will think he’s shooting blanks.”

“He is,” Jenny said. “We both know that’s not his cub you’re carrying—if you’re even pregnant at all. And I have a DNA test that proves Brandon isn’t his either.”

Cindi shook her head. “You don’t get it, do you,” she said. “He doesn’t care if a dozen scientists tell him that kid isn’t his. He needs to believe he is, and he’s the alpha. What he wants to believe is the truth for every damn panther in Broken Hill.”

Jenny stepped back. She’d known Alton was unbalanced, but this was flat-out insanity. “That’s sick,” she said. “Why do you people even go along with it?”

Cindi’s eyes glittered. “He’s going to restore the clan’s glory,” she said. “He’s going to make us the most powerful clan in the South.”

He was going to get them all killed. But none of them could see through the delusions.

“Xander will come for me,” she said. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed.”

Cindi just laughed. “You still think that loser is a hero. Xander’s coming, all right. He’s already on his way.” She started for the door, then turned back. “But the only way he’s going out of here is in a body bag. And there’s no way you or Brandon is going with him.”