Prowl the Night Read Online Free

assistant rather than his wife. Then again, something always called him away.
    And now it might get her killed.
    Her heart leapt when she saw a flash of dark hair surfacing from the crowded street. That was him. She knew it—she felt it in her bones.
    A Panther. Large and male. Her senses screamed at her to run, and she spun on her heel to dart into the throng of people shopping in Union Square.
    She sincerely doubted that she’d outrun him, but the oppressive feel of his rage closed around her. He was getting closer.
    Turning a corner, she broke into a swift trot, squeezing between people to try to get some distance from her pursuer. Her narrow skirt hampered her movements as she swept down the sidewalk, her hands shaking at her sides, a cold sweat beginning to bead her face. She’d have no fear of a human, but this was a shifter who wanted to hurt her. The tinge of his madness coated her tongue with its rancid flavor.
    There was no one to help her, no one to ask for aid. Calling anyone on her cell phone would only slow her down . . . and anyone who answered would be far too late. Instead, she pushed herself harder, trying not to pour on so much speed that the people around her noticed she was moving far too quickly for a human woman. Reining in the need to run was the hardest instinct she’d ever had to fight.
    Glancing back, she saw that same flash of dark hair and tanned skin before he disappeared into the crowd again. He was closer than he had been before, and bigger than she’d thought. Her stomach clenched, adrenaline flooding her veins. Faster. Oh, God. How much faster could she go without giving herself away?
    Her breath rasped in her tortured throat, her lungs burning as she panted for air. Some distant part of her brain recognized that this was more from panic than exertion, but he was gaining on her. She would be caught in the horrible maelstrom of hate that poured from him. Her belly turned and it was all she could do not to gag, to bend over and vomit. Only the knowledge that it would slow her down stopped her from giving in to the overwhelming urge.
    Whipping around another corner on an unfamiliar street in this godawful city, she slammed into a large Panther male. She hissed, struggling madly against his iron-hard grip.
    â€œCiri, what’s wrong?” The big hands on her shoulders shook her almost gently. “Ciri?”
    She fought against her own feral nature, barely kept her claws sheathed. A snarl ripped from her as she looked her captor in the face.
    A wave of shock hit her as she realized it was the Pride’s non-shifter. She recoiled automatically and he let her go, lifting his hands in a supplicating gesture. “Are you all right?”
    His smell was different. Clean and sane. The stink of madness dissipated, leaving her standing there shaking and sweating. She sucked in a calm breath, trying to regain some modicum of her self-control. “I’m fine.”
    She might throw up on his hiking boots, but she was unharmed and that was all he really needed to know. It was odd to see him up close. She forced herself to focus on this man rather than the one who’d chased her. Anything to hold the horror at bay for a few minutes.
    She stared up at the sandy-haired man. A non-shifter. A cursed cat. Until Antonio Cruz came to power, no self-respecting Pride would admit they’d fostered such a freak of nature. She cringed inwardly at the cruel thought, but the superstition was deeply ingrained in the shifter culture.
    â€œBenedicto.” His name finally came to her, and she winced after she’d blurted it out.
    His smile was wry. “Just Ben.”
    She noted that he didn’t offer his hand to shake. Guilt twisted through her that she was so uncomfortable around a young man whose timely appearance might have saved her life. A lifetime of training made her scuttle backward when he stepped toward her. She couldn’t help it.
    The glint in his bright