Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha-Chapter 56: A Familiar Figure

That feeling refuses to fade, and I turn to glance out the back window.

But, of course, no one’s tailing us.

Nancy glances at me with a frown. "Please sit properly."

"Sorry."

There’s a definite chill in her words now, but I have no idea what I did to change her attitude toward me. Did I do something? Say something? Maybe one of the officers recognized me and told her about Scott.

I try not to sigh as I turn to look out the window, absently scratching at the back of my neck. The hairs there keep trying to rise, as if warning me of some unseen danger. My fingers trace my skin, attempting to soothe away the prickling sensation, but it persists, stubborn and unsettling.

Suddenly, a deafening bang rips through the air as the car lurches violently to one side. My heart leaps into my throat and lodges there. Nancy fights the steering wheel, fighting to keep us on the road and not down the giant cliff.

"Shit!" she curses, her voice tight with concentration.

I clutch my seatbelt, my nails digging into it as we careen across the road, and I squeeze my eyes shut. There’s no way I’m going to watch as we fall to our death. I’d rather not know exactly when it’s coming.

Yeah. I’m a coward, I think.

My stomach churns as I pray silently for this nightmare to end.

After what feels like an eternity—so probably only a few seconds—we finally skid to a halt. The abrupt stop jerks me forward, the seatbelt biting into my chest. My tense body is stiff, my feet driving into the floor as if that will somehow stop everything.

I force my eyes open, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

We aren’t hanging over a cliff, staring at an abyss. That’s a good thing. We’re facing the right way, too. Somehow, we’ve spun full circle.

Burnt rubber is strong in the air.

We’re still on the road. We’re alive. The danger’s over.

Thank God.

I’m never getting in a car again.

"Are you okay?" Nancy asks, her voice shockingly steady despite what just happened.

I turn to look at her and feel my breath catch. A thin line of blood trickles down her forehead, stark against her pale skin. "You’re bleeding," I manage to croak out.

Nancy touches her forehead, wincing as her fingers come away red. "It’s nothing," she says, and unbuckles her restraint. "Stay in the car. I need to check the tire."

Through the windshield, I can see her making her way to the front of the car. The sun casts long shadows across the road; we’re well into evening. The dimmer light of oncoming twilight makes everything look slightly sinister, like a scene from a horror movie just before something terrible happens.

My brain’s stuck in TV and movie plots after this last week, and I shake off the ridiculous way I’m painting the scene.

It’s just a blown tire.

These things happen all the time.

But no matter how much I try to rationalize it, I can’t shake the feeling that this is more than just bad luck.

Nancy’s crouched by the front tire. I can barely see the tip of her bun over the dashboard. And there, behind her, standing in the middle of the street, is a strange, familiar figure. free𝑤ebnovel.com

"Officer—"

My voice comes out in a croak as I open the door.

"Ma’am, get back in the car, please."

Clearing my throat, I try again, ignoring the irritation in her voice. "No—Officer, behind you..."

Nancy whips around, her hand flying to her gun as she stares at the man in the middle of the road.

His rich mahogany skin glistens with sweat in the fading light, tight black curls hugging his scalp, and I swear I know him from somewhere. The tattered purple shirt hanging off his frame and bright red athletic shorts seem out of place on this desolate mountain road. My eyes drift to his bare feet.

So strange.

Who would walk around a mountain without shoes?

"Sir, I need you to stay where you are," Nancy calls out, her voice steady but laced with tension.

The stranger doesn’t respond. He takes a slow step forward, his eyes fixed on Nancy with an unsettling intensity.

"Close the door," she snaps over her shoulder, and I slam it shut with a shudder. "Sir, I’m asking you one more time. Do not come any closer."

Another step. The man’s bare feet scrape against the asphalt; he barely lifts them with each step, in an unnatural gait.

Nancy’s hand tightens on her gun, but she doesn’t draw it. "This is your final warning. Stop where you are and put your hands where I can see them."

The man takes another step. And another. His movements are slow. Predatory.

And then it clicks.

I know exactly where I’ve seen him before.

He’s the black panther from my accident on this same mountain.

Nancy’s patience wears thin. In one fluid motion, she draws her weapon, leveling it at the approaching figure. "Stop right there! Hands up, now!"

The stranger pauses, tilting his head to one side as if confused by the command. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flick from Nancy to me and back again. I open the door, and she snaps, "I said to stay in the car!"

"He’s a panther shifter," I shout back, my words rushed.

The world slows to a crawl as the man lunges forward. At the same time, his body contorts, bones cracking and reshaping. In an instant, the human form vanishes, replaced by a sleek, muscular panther, confirming my memory of his face.

Nancy’s gun fires, the sound piercing through my stupor. But it’s too late.

A scream tears from my throat as the panther launches itself at Nancy. Its massive form collides with her, knocking her to the ground. I can’t see what happens next over the dashboard, but I can hear her scream, a sound that will be with me until my dying day. Which, at this rate, is in another minute.

The panther appears around the front of the car a moment later, its muzzle dripping with what can only be Nancy’s blood, and my stomach churns.

Those intelligent eyes, so human despite the beast’s form, lock onto me.

My fingers fumble for the door handle, desperate to seal myself inside the car. The panther pads towards me, each step deliberate and menacing. I slam the door shut and lock it just as it reaches the vehicle.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I watch the creature through the window. It stands on its hind legs to sniff at the door, bloodied whiskers twitching. For a moment, I’m certain it will find a way inside, tearing through metal and glass to reach me.

But then, as suddenly as it appeared, the panther bounds away. I track its sleek form until it disappears from sight.

The silence that follows is deafening.

I force myself to move, to think. Nancy. I need to check on Nancy.

My hand trembles as I reach for the door handle. The metal feels ice-cold against my sweaty palm. I push it open, the creak of the hinges unnaturally loud.