Unleash The Night by Sherrilyn Kenyon

Author:Sherrilyn Kenyon [Kenyon, Sherrilyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2009-05-08T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Wren came awake slowly to find a severe, pounding ache in his skull that seemed to be echoed in every single part of his body. His ears were buzzing as he slowly blinked open his eyes and tried to focus them.

The first thing he saw was a dark green sofa.

Where the hell am I?

Suddenly it all came rushing back. The tigers who were chasing him. The people who'd tried to trank him. The mad dash through the back alleys of New Orleans. The car that had slammed into him as he darted across the street to avoid another predator.

The impact had sent him flying into a store on Decatur Street and the ensuing pandemonium of tourists running from a snow leopard, and men with guns, had allowed him to escape his pursuers.

With no other choice, he'd gone to Maggie's...

His tail twitched.

"Oh God."

He looked up at the startled sound of Maggie's voice to see her standing in her kitchen, her eyes wide as she watched him. She was terrified. The pungent smell of it called out to the predator inside him.

A predator that had been tamed by her… For once, the beast within was at peace. There was no desire to attack. No desire to harm.

Instead, it wanted only to feel her warm hand in its fur…

"It's okay, kitty," she said in that odd high-pitched voice that humans reserved for small children and pets. "Don't eat the nice lady, okay? She's not going to hurt you, boy. She's only going to step over here so that you don't pounce. Please don't pounce."

She moved a little closer, eyeing him carefully. Her voice dropped two octaves as she spoke to him again. "Are you really in there, Wren? Do you know it's me?"

Wren took a deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to do and flashed himself back to human form. His pain increased tenfold, but he stamped it down before it dragged him back into unconscious cat form. He focused on her. "I know it's you, Maggie."

Marguerite swallowed in relief as she finally saw the confirmation of what she'd feared and hoped. Wren really was the cat.

Scared and nervous, she crossed the small distance where he lay facedown on the floor with one of her blankets covering his bare backside and legs. There were scratches and bites all over his back as if another kind of cat had attacked him. His blond hair fell into his eyes, obscuring them as he rose up ever so slightly in a way that reminded her of a cat stretching.

She knelt down beside him and placed a comforting hand to his bare back. He rolled over slowly, groaning softly as he moved, so that he was lying on his back, looking up at her.

Cuts and bruises marred his chest as well. There was one particularly nasty black bruise that practically covered the whole of his left rib cage. The mark rose up, high onto his chest, all the way to his heart.

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