Page 1 of Feral Moon Rising
Chapter One
Gray
My best friend hadan unhealthy sexual appetite that annoyed the shit out of me. I watched Blake grind himself against a half-undressed stripper on the VIP stage in the upstairs area of the Gin Room and prayed I wouldn’t have to tow his drunk ass out the door by the end of the night.
Two weeks in New York City and I was already sick of babysitting his shifter ass, because according to the local panther claw we had linked up with out of necessity only, he couldn't be trusted to look after himself.
Not that it was news to me. Blake had been getting us both into shit since we tried to enroll in college together a decade ago. No surprises when that didn’t turn out so well either. Shifters—especially ones who couldn’t keep their claws or teeth to themselves—weren’t popular items on a campus that wasn’t supposed to know we existed.
A waiter paused by my chair where I sat slightly behind the blackout curtain and raised the bottle of Yamazaki single malt with no label—I’d taken a liking to it on my last visit. The elusive club owner’s personal recommendation sat well with me. Evading local northern-state-based law enforcement didn’t mean I had to give up luxuries I’d spent over fifteen years building in an attempt to keep Blake and I out of a scientist’s laboratory.
Which was what would happen if we were caught with our literal pants down.
Shifters were a rumor at best, a nightmare the human population feared. There was plenty of evidence kept away under lock and key but the scant independent panther community wasn’t organized enough to do anything about it. Tempers—including mine—were unpredictable in enclosed spaces. But that wasn’t how we ended up leaving the safety of our extended, if somewhat uncommunicative, claw up North and leeching onto an overpopulated city, based on the one who took us in here. Safety in numbers and all, or at least that was how the local pseudo-alpha sold his package to us. Even as solitary hunters, most panther shifters knew we wouldn't survive long in this world if we traveled alone once we hit the glitz of city lights.
Which was a damn fine reason to stay the hell away from them.
If I had it my way, we’d stay in the Adirondacks, which was still my backup plan for when all this went to shit. Blake, I knew, had another destination in mind. We could draw straws after tonight. A quick glance at the stage told me we weren’t far from that point.
Blake’s skin rippled, dark shadows that preceded his change marling his otherwise tanned skin in whorls that moved with him. Chartreuse eyes turned to solid obsidian, and razored claws extended from his hands in lieu of fingernails.
“The fuck.” I slammed the whiskey in its crystal tumbler onto the short table at my side, breaking the pure silence rule of the blackout section within the VIP area, and rose. My beast roiled against the cage of my chest, ready to shred the single silk blend suit I had left in my possession, but this was not the time to ruin it.
Humans were already afraid of us enough and though the bar, upper class as it may position itself, allowed shifters through the door, it did not condone a panther and human copulating onstage in clear view of others.
Nor did it seem the other dancer agreed as she fled the stage while her friend groped my best friend’s fur-covered arms and writhed beneath him in an impromptu show of utter bullshit.
“He could get better on a porn channel,” I spat.
The server who watched me with wide eyes backed off, clutching his prized bottle of whiskey.
I shook my head, striding to the stage, and took the ten-foot leap in one, landing in a crouch, hardly out of breath beside Blake. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? We left motherfucking Canada because of your shit. Now you start up again? We’re gonna run out of borrowed claws and landmasses, my friend.”
And I’ll be out of patience.
Blake turned his blackened eyes on me, blinking them back to his normal pale green that reflected in most of our kind. I stood alone with gray eyes, hence the name. But before he shook his head, a flicker of something I didn’t expect swirled around his pupils—a craze of purple that ringed the green, and then it was gone.
“The fuck,” I muttered again, relegated to single syllables. I gripped Blake’s nape, clamping my hand over his cheek and pushing his eyelids back, but the purple streak didn’t make a second appearance. A heavy scent of a second unwelcome surprise, however, did.Pheromones.“You take something?” I released him and backed up a step, forgetting I was onstage and nearly fell off the damn thing.
“No.” Blake rubbed his neck, shaking his head. “I ... had a bit to drink. Sorry, sweetheart. Maybe another time.” He gave her a watery version of his usually impish grin, brushing some of her lip gloss from her cheek that had his fur stuck in it.
I snorted. “Classy. Let’s go.”
“What? I’m good, bro,” Blake protested.
I nodded, my back to him as I stepped off the ten-foot drop from the stage and landed on my feet, walking past the same server who still stared at me, the whites of his eyes showing.
Damn, that’s gonna cost me.
I slipped a wad of notes out of my jacket pocket and tucked them onto his tray, not breaking the blackout section’s complete silence rule a second time.
It was Blake who’d get us kicked out, not me.
“Man—” A softwhumpannounced Blake hitting the deck behind me instead of landing on his feet like the wildcat shifter fucking well should have.
Those are some panther display skills right there, my friend.Enough not to get him laid tonight, in any case. But his dry spell wasn’t my problem.
“Come on.” I strode through the curtain that separated the VIP section from the main club upstairs area, gripping his upper arm. “We aren’t coming back until you craft yourself an apology to the club owner and deliver it in person, preferably on your knees with a suitable sense of grovel, am I fucking clear?” I seethed.
