Page 37 of Brandon’s Mate

His shoulder-length silver-blond hair was filthy and matted, and his face and upper body were crisscrossed by scars.

But it was his eyes that held her attention. Wild and crazy, but with a disturbing intelligence. In the dim porch light, they looked almost colorless, like his hair. And he was gazing at her with a frightening intensity.

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Whoever was behind those eyes, he was not right. Her wolf let out a low growl.

The creature didn’t move.

Kitty stood up, very slowly, eyeing him warily.

“Hey,” she said quietly, as if speaking to a wild animal. “I’m Kitty.”

He just stared at her, his eyes cold and unblinking. Then he said, “You’re here. Took you long enough. Are we going to kill the panthers now?”

His voice was low, almost soothing—which made his words even more chilling. Especially that last part. It took her a minute to decide what to respond to first.

“Um, you knew I was coming?”

“Yes.”

“And… you need me to kill the panthers?” Her wolf shouted, Don’t kill panther! Mate! Mate!

Sasquatch frowned. “No, I can kill them.”

A low growl started in her chest. He wants to kill mate! Kill him first! Kill him now!

He’s not killing anyone at the moment, Kitty replied. Give it a minute, would you?

She kept her voice conversational. The first rule of dealing with crazy people—don’t call them out on the crazy. “If you can kill them yourself, then why do you need me?”

“I don’t know. The voices said I do.”

Oh, yippee, he was hearing voices. That was just super. “Umm… were you planning on killing the panther that lives here?”

Sasquatch stared at her for what seemed like a long, long time. “I haven’t decided.”

Oooookay. Maybe she should try to talk him out of it? “Well, if I get a vote on the killing part, I’m voting no. Not that I haven’t wanted to kill Br—um, Ray—a few times. Between you and me, he can be mondo annoying. It’s one of his superpowers. And moody? It’s all lambs and rainbows and fairy sparkles one minute, and then a stormy subtropical depression the next. And he’ll have your back in a fight, but in between he can sometimes be a friend-abandoning douche.”

Okay, she was not really making her case here.

Sasquatch was still staring—for a minute Kitty got the feeling he could see right into her soul.

“He hurt you,” he said in that low, mesmerizing voice.

Whoa. Straight to the jugular. “Yeah.”

“But you don’t want me to kill him?” He sounded confused.

“I wish you wouldn’t. He’s one of the best people I know—in a bad boy troublemaker kind of way. Although that bad boy thing is really pretty sexy, isn’t it?”

Sasquatch’s face remained impassive.

“I guess not to you. Got it.” She took a deep breath. “Look, I admit he can be a pain in the ass, but deep down he’s got the most loving, caring heart of practically anybody I know. And he’s trying to take down the bad panthers, I think,” she added, remembering the panthers in the Crows’ Nest.

“Okay.”

Huh. Okay what? Okay to taking down the bad panthers, or okay to not killing Brandon? She tried to sweeten the deal. “And if the other panthers did something to hurt you, we’ll help you fix it.”

No answer. Just the killer stare. Did the man never blink? Was he some kind of giant lizard shifter or something? Then he nodded. “We’ll kill them all.”