Waking the Beast(2)

I swear I feel a singing in my blood just holding the book. The more I read, the louder it is. I celebrated, cried, raged, and finally mourned with them. I try to tell myself it is just a story, but my heart screams differently. I wish I was one of them. What must it feel like to be able to shift into the shape of a lion or tiger? Is that burning in my blood my spirit awakening?

Tonight I will dream of them, I just know it. I love them. I will keep them in my prayers from now on. I pray I find them some day.

* * * *

Abby woke slowly, her head aching as the taste of sawdust coated her tongue and mouth, making her gag. The room was fuzzy, and she panicked until she realized her glasses were missing. She patted around the floor where she lay and found a warm body, a warm naked body, or at least the part she was touching.

She pulled her hand back as if she’d been burned and thankfully hit her missing glasses. They skittered over the floor, and she lifted up to crawl after them, expelling her held breath as she touched them and brought them to her face. Her panic only grew as the room came into blessed clarity. She was in a cell, and she wasn’t alone.

She glanced at the man she’d touched, and when she noted most of his clothes were missing, leaving him in a snug pair of black boxer briefs, she quickly took inventory of herself. Thank God, she was still fully clothed in her jeans and T-shirt with the loose hoodie over the top. So, why was the guy with her naked? And where the hell were they?

She focused back on the man, looking closely and gasping with surprise. Her pulse quickened when she took in the bold lion’s head tattoo on his side beneath his right pectoral. There was only one man who had that. Utah Pearce. Tah to his friends.

Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

What had she done? Why was she here? Why was he here? And why did she have an eerie feeling this had everything to do with her and the research she’d been doing on therianthropy, or more specifically her love of ailuranthropy?

She heard footsteps coming toward them and moved quickly back to where she had been lying earlier. Her eidetic memory would ensure she was in the same position as before; the only change was that her glasses were now hidden under her mass of hair where she could easily grab them again.

“They’re still out.”

The voice was gruff, masculine, and if she wasn’t mistaken had a bit of the south in it. Not deep south. He didn’t live there, but he’d spent some time there recently, and long enough that it had left a mark on his speech.

“I thought you said they would be waking up soon.” This voice was nasally, whiney.

“I said they should be waking up soon. The girl’s small. I didn’t give her much of the drug, but who knows. He’ll be out for a bit longer. I gave him enough to down a lion.”#p#分页标题#e#

They both snickered at this as if it were some big joke, and the nauseous feeling she’d woken up to only grew.

“We’ll give ‘em another hour,” Southy stated.

She remained as still as possible, though she felt as if she were close to shaking apart as they began walking away. She listened to the sound of their retreating steps. One of them wore boots; her money was on Southy as she’d dubbed him. Whiney was probably wearing the squeaky shoes she heard.

She counted to one hundred after their footsteps faded then sat up quickly, shoving her glasses back on as she crawled over to Utah.

“Utah,” she whispered as loud as she could, leaning close to his face as she shook him as fiercely as she could. He was a huge guy at six foot five. She had no idea how much he weighed, but it topped her hundred twenty by at least a hundred pounds, probably more. “Utah, you have to wake up. Oh God, if there were ever a time I needed you to be the great Tau, it’s now. Wake up!”

He groaned and the sound seemed to echo in the room. She quickly glanced around, praying, even as she listened for the sound of returning footsteps. She did her best to shush him, placing her hands over his mouth as she whispered in his ear. “Shhh, Utah.”

She almost squeaked when he jerked her to him, cupping her ass through her jeans. His nose buried in her neck, and she felt his growing erection.

Holy shit! Utah was big all over.

“Utah.” His name came out in a hiss as he rubbed himself against her.

“Give me a second, baby. Let me wake up, and I’ll make you feel good.”

She couldn’t help the snort of disbelief that left her lips. Men like Utah didn’t make women like her feel good. Not sexually anyway. She was so far from the tall buxom types he was fond of that it was laughable. But, oh God, feeling him against her, she really wished she was his type.