Page 1 of Finding Her Panthers

Chapter One

Harmony

"Fuck me," I curse, ripping my hand from my pants as I curl into the fetal position on the couch in frustration. I’ve spent all day on this couch, trying to ease the ache of my heat, trying to gain some relief from the pain racking my needy body. Attempting to pleasure myself does not satisfy the need. All it has gotten me is more cramps and a numb hand. After I struggled out of bed to the kitchen to get more pain meds, this was as far as I could make it.

Why did I have to be born a female shifter? Sure, it was cool to be able to turn into a panther. The magic of it all. My coat was pitch black, and my green eyes brightened. My senses were stronger, my body more agile. Even in my human form, everything was enhanced. Knowing I could kick ass was pretty cool. But I tried to avoid every conflict because my temper was tripped so quickly, especially lately. The unwritten rule of being a shifter was to hide the fact that you are shifter. But this pain was getting worse. I heard the stories from others that when you smelled your mate for the first time, it signaled to your body to get ready to be mated, and to ensure you did, the pains started and could only be eased by your mate. Something about making sure you continued to reproduce your kind. No one, at least no female, could ignore the mating call.

Every day since I caught the scent, I have slowly come into heat and the pains were getting worse. I needed my mate. I may not want one—time will tell—but my body will not let me walk away, literally.

I have searched the area where I smelled him over and over to no avail. The trail is cold. I am out of ideas, almost out of hope. Part of me believes I will continue to lay on this couch in agony until it consumes me. The thought of what I would do then really scares me. So yes, I need my mate badly.

I called into work again today. Pretty soon, they will have to fire me. I don't blame my employer. The only reason they haven’t fired me yet is because I was a model employee before this. The effects of the heat have forced me to go from bed to kitchen, to couch. I haven't showered in two days. I can't keep any food down, and the pain meds are not working anymore. It’s not like they worked great.

To begin with, a shifter's body burns that shit off so quickly. We are quick to heal, but that is the gift of this mating curse. It ensures you have to mate, like now.

Being a panther is rare for a female. From what I have gathered, no one can find any. It's not like I asked for this, I didn't grow up in a family surrounded by loved ones that help you shift for the first time, gently explaining what is happening to your body, what to expect, how to act, and discussing the history of all shifters. No, I was found in front of a church at six months old. I was not left in a basket with a lovely note pinned to my chest like in the movies and stories. A priest found me on the steps of his church one dreary, cold morning, dressed in foot pajamas, swaddled in a blanket wailing.

Doesn't that make you all warm and fuzzy? That isn't a story you want to tell your children someday. Mommy was abandoned like trash at six months old; no one wanted her. For years, I was so angry, just for that alone, then one day I felt like I was being ripped apart from the inside and my skin burning from my body. The first time I shifted, I was in the backyard of the fifth or sixth foster home, alone, playing in the grass, daydreaming of finding a prince to carry me away to a castle in the sky to live happily ever after. I was escaping the angry, mean faces of my foster parents. I had heard them talking about taking in a new kid. A girl. From what I gathered from their furious whispering, she was roughly the same age. I couldn’t wait; finally, someone I could play with, have fun with. Someone that might help change the atmosphere of the tense house. I was in the middle of playing a game, guessing what she would look like. The next thing I knew was torment, and I still remember the pain in detail. Then I was on all fours, covered in black fur. I couldn't talk and was so confused and scared. I was eight years old.

It took me two days to get back to my human body, and I still have no idea how I did it. I came back to the house naked, tired, and terrified. They didn't even realize I was even gone, didn't even blink when I walked in the door. I remember my foster mom looking at me in disgust. "Go clean yourself and put some clothes on, you little freak," she sneered at me. For a long time, that is what I thought I was, a freak, an anomaly. At that age, I just knew I needed to hide it, and I knew I couldn't tell them or anyone.

I took a day to rest, find what food I could, pack what little belongings I had, at least something to keep me warm, and left. It's not like they would miss me or put out a missing child alert. I learned at a young age I couldn't count on anyone else. They wouldn't help me, especially if they found out I turned into an animal. The next few years were the worst of my young life. I can still close my eyes and remember the fear, the cold, running, so much running. The nights were the worst. I was the animal, but that was when the real monsters came out to play. I tried to sleep during the day to stay awake all night and be aware of who was coming and when I needed to run. I had no one, and I turned into more animal than human. Every day I had to will myself not to shift, though I could feel it creeping up on me; the urge was always strong. But I was so scared I would never turn back. I stole all the time, and I didn't feel bad about it either. I had to eat, and I felt like the whole world had failed me. People looked at me like a dirty rat, beneath their notice unless I was directly in front of them. After the first few times of asking for help, getting looked at like I was crazy, I gave up.

The best day of my life was when I met Penny when I was thirteen. I was on the streets planning my attack at the outdoor market. I became stealthier at stealing food. As a shifter, I burned through calories quickly, I needed twice as much food as a human, so I was used to dealing with the discomfort of hunger. I was eying the stand with the bread. The carbs would keep me going longer than sweets, although I loved sugar and loved having a cookie, when a girl about my age walked from behind the stand. I thought she was beautiful. She was clean, and her blonde hair shined so bright in the sun.

I sat and watched her laugh and joke with the women she was with, wishing I could laugh with her. I couldn't remember the last time I laughed. I must have been staring so intently in envy it didn't take long for her to notice me. When she caught my eye, she smiled. I looked behind me to see who she was looking at. It had been a very long time since someone looked at me with anything but pity or anger. She rescued me that day, and she has every day since. Penny was adopted. She convinced her new parents somehow to foster me, and they took me into an actual home. They fed me, gave me everything my little tarnished heart could hope for, and Penny became my sister. I learned the hard way blood didn't mean shit. You chose your real family.

One day we were staying up late, giggling, when the worst happened. Maybe because I was finally safe and happy and didn't have my guard up, I shifted. Penny didn't run. I could see some fear in her eyes, but I stayed low to the ground and tried not to seem threatening. I must have pulled it off. She sat up with me all night, talking to me like I wasn't a panther, telling me all the plans she has for us in the years to come. When I still hadn't shifted back in the morning, she covered for me and told her parents I wasn't feeling well. She stayed with me in support until I was human again. I’m so thankful for that day, finally having someone I could talk to about what I am. She was the first person I could be my total self with, without judgment.

Even though I have a mate out there somewhere, I know Penny is my soulmate. I will always protect her. I will kill anyone that tries to hurt her.

The ringing of my cell pulls me out of the pain and memories, my sister’s shining face flashing on the screen. I can't help but smile when I put it to my ear.

"Hey, sexy cat, kill anyone today?" she says brightly. I can always count on her to make everything normal.

“Not yet, but the night is young. Are you off work?” I ask as I try to pull myself up a little.

"Yes, finally. I just wanted to see what you wanted for supper? I'm right around the corner, and I thought Chinese sounded good.” Her voice is hopeful.

"Sounds amazing." I try to infuse as much excitement into my reply as possible. I will eat as much as I can, even if it kills me. She stays so positive for me, for us, that I will try as hard as I can not to be the buzzkill.

"All right, it should be about twenty minutes. Make yourself pretty for me!" The goof makes kissing noises before hanging up.

She loves to freak people out and doesn’t care what anyone thinks, whereas I just wanted to stay in the shadows. She drags me back into the light.

In an attempt to look like I accomplished something today besides wallowing in my sadness, I clean off the coffee table of bottles of water and pills. I quickly wash my hands, straighten my clothes, and hope she can’t tell what I’ve been up to. I'm sweating and cramping badly by the time I hear the key in the lock, and all that is Penny strolls in with arms full of food.

"Honey, I'm home!" she announces, dumping all the food on the table. "I feel like eating on the couch," she states.

"Really, you aren't just humoring the invalid?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Please, it's just like we are camping out," she calls out as she goes to the kitchen to get plates and silverware.

She decided I needed a roommate a year ago, so we found this apartment. It's a two-bedroom, with the kitchen, living room, and dining room all in one. She convinced me it was her idea to move to Oregon. It was me that had to get away from the memories that I was forced to live with, the past twenty-four years, everywhere I went. We tried to make the place homey, and she insisted on bright colors. I wanted to cover it in black. She wanted the walls painted bright yellow, and I protested fiercely. We agreed on blue. I let her decorate with colorful yellow pillows and multi-colored paintings. Her room was like a unicorn had taken a shit in it, and mine was like a vampire lived there. I should know; I met a vampire once. Usually, they were not ones to fuck with, but I had the best sex of my life for two days, and I never saw him again.

My dating life has been difficult. I’ve never wanted to get too close to anyone, letting my heart get involved, led to questions. My answers would scare the shit out of most men. I decided to keep it casual. The longest relationship was two months. He was nice, a human, and in the end, wanted more from me. I couldn’t take the risk of allowing him past the superficial.

"So, what's the plan for tonight? Where should we look?" she asks as she dishes up our plates.

---