There was no way for Darcy to know how much time he’d remained a prisoner the cage. His cell phone didn’t work, nor did his watch, and Broom had no concept of time. Medea appeared regularly, checking his finger, and then feeding him. Each time, Darcy held out the chicken bone instead of a finger, the kittens ate the meat, and Broom disposed of the rest.

Since all he was eating was a slice or two of bread, Darcy’s stomach rumbled loudly. Smudge looked up from where he was curled on Darcy’s lap, and even the other kittens lying beside him stared at him.

“Hey, sorry, guys.” Darcy managed a shaky laugh. “Don’t forget you’re all eating better than I am.”

As one the kittens jumped up, staring toward the door that Medea normally came through. A second later, Broom scuttled over to the cage.

“Someone has breached her cottage, Master.”

“Who?” Darcy whispered as he rose to his feet. A thrill skittered down his spine. Oddly, the sensation was as much anticipation as it was apprehension. He glanced down. The four kittens stood in front of him, their fur bristling, but they didn’t run away.

The door burst open and a huge beast leaped into the room. Darcy couldn’t have stopped his high-pitched shriek if he’d tried. The beast was taller than any man he knew, with a broad, solidly muscled, furred chest. But although the body was human enough, its head was that of a large-jawed, sharp-fanged, slavering, red-eyed wolf.

Broom positioned itself in front of the cage, as if to block the beast’s way. Darcy was certain he would be broken in half like a dry twig. When did I start thinking of Broom as a he?

“Broom, get out of its way.” Darcy glanced around. There was nowhere for him to hide, but he might be able to make a getaway while the creature was preoccupied with his cage.

“It’s okay.” Bastet dashed between the beast’s muscular legs. “This is Bardou. The friend I told you about. He’s a rougarou. A form of werewolf.”

“No shit.” Darcy stared at Bardou, whose red eyes seemed to shift to golden as he looked Darcy up and down.

“This him?” Bardou pointed at Darcy.

“Yes. Hurry, Bardou.” Bastet looked around, her tail lashing from side to side. “Medea will know the cottage is breached. We need to move fast.”

“That old crone can’t match me for speed,” Bardou snarled. He reached out to take the lock on the cage in a large, clawed hand, and with a sharp twist of his wrist, broke it apart. “Come on.”

Panic-stricken, Darcy looked at the kittens. “We can’t leave them. They’ll starve without me to feed them.”

“Where did they come from?” Bastet looked at each in turn.

“Who the fuck cares. Move it!” Bardou growled.

“I’m not leaving them.” Darcy folded his arms. He just couldn’t leave them behind. They’d been his constant companions, other than Broom. Even as he thought about the mechanical, Broom waddled over.

“Give them to me, Master, and order me to follow you. I may not keep up speed with the rougarou, but I won’t lose you.”

“Well ... okay.” Darcy wasn’t sure just how Broom, using its metallic brush could do anything fast enough to even keep up with a jogger, but he scooped up the kittens. All except Smudge, who scrambled free and burrowed under Darcy’s shirt. He handed the other three over to Broom. “Um, Broom, take care of the kittens and follow me.”

“Yes, Master.” Brook took them carefully in his spindly fingers.

Bardou took a step forward, his face millimeters away from Darcy’s. “Ready now? Or do you want to be Medea’s sacrifice?”

“I’m ready.” Darcy swallowed around a dry throat. Bardou was close enough for Darcy to feel hot breath on his cheek. The heat seemed to suffuse his entire body.

“Good.” Bardou turned away, his body shifting into something more animal-like as he dropped to all fours. “Mount me.”

A full-body shudder ran through Darcy and his cock swelled, pressing painfully against his zipper. He shook his head. What the fuck is happening to me? It must be the rush of adrenaline.

Ignoring his unexpected arousal, Darcy straddled Bardou, and clung tightly to a thick ruff of fur at Bardou’s neck. If anything, his erection grew harder, and Darcy bit back a groan as Bardou stalked forward.

“Call around later, Bastet. Hold me. Hard.” Bardou glanced back at Darcy as a soft whimper broke free of Darcy’s lips.

“I’m fine. Go. Broom, stay with me.” Darcy winced at his breathless tone, but everything Bardou said and did seemed to ratchet Darcy’s arousal up another notch. Without another word, Bardou bounded forward.

Unsure how he remained on Bardou’s back, Darcy clung to the rougarou’s fur for dear life. The world passed him in a blur. Smudge seemed fascinated by the ride. He poked his head out from Darcy’s shirt and he seemed to be enjoying it. For which Darcy was thankful, he had no intention of releasing either hand from where they were clenched in Bardou’s fur.

When Bardou slowed, Darcy saw they were approaching a watermill. The elegant, wooden building sat on an island in the middle of a fast-flowing river, its wheel in constant motion. As they approached, a series of stones rose from the water. Bardou leaped from one to the next, crossing to the mill in seconds, each stone sinking again as Bardou jumped clear.

The last leap took them onto the island and Bardou stood still. “You can get off me now.”