Soul of the Wildcat (5 page)

In the blink of an eye the cougar had vanished.

A naked man lay on the floor in its place.

Dakoda jolted, damn near choking on her scream.
Holy shit!
What she was looking at couldn't be real.

Could it?

Gaze fixed on the impossible sight, her eyes widened at the display of his bobbing shaft. Heart skipping a beat, a hot flush spread through her veins. Her cheeks heated. His erection sure looked genuine enough. Jutting toward his abdomen, hard and eager, his cock was quite impressive.

The stranger's hands rose, covering a vital piece of his exposed anatomy. “Sorry.” A grin of embarrassment split his lips. “I always get a hard-on when a pretty girl pets me.”

D
akoda's stomach lurched. Hand lifting, she closed her eyes and pressed her palm against her forehead. “The concussion,” she reasoned, barely speaking above a whisper. “It's making me hallucinate.”

She was seeing things. Yeah. That's it. Between the trauma of witnessing Greg's murder, the exhaustion of keeping herself in one piece, and a near rape, her trolley had somehow slipped off the track of sanity. Reason was going in an entirely different direction, exploring uncharted territory.

I'm losing it for sure
, she thought.
Cougars don't turn into men
.

She inwardly cringed. The idea seemed crazy, even inside the confines of her apparently demented mind. Of course a human couldn't turn into an animal. Magic, hocus-pocus, call it what you will, didn't exist.

A man's voice broke through the curtain Dakoda was attempting to pull around her murky senses. “I don't mean to be a pain in the ass, but I can assure you I'm not a figment of your imagination.” A pause. “Though, if it helps, I wish I were. I'd rather be anyplace else but here.”

The apparition was talking. To her.

Dakoda lowered her hand. She opened her eyes. Sure enough, the naked man was still there.

For a moment she considered the idea she'd fallen asleep. It made sense her damaged, desperate psyche might conjure up such an extraordinary scenario. It could all just be a creation of her imagination.

Easily explained, easily understood.

But the scene unfolding before her eyes didn't have the surreal, kaleidoscopic quality of a dream. In dreams, the angles were off, odd and vague, stretched and distorted. What she saw now was all sharp and very much in focus.

“You were the cougar,” she said, a slight frown curving her mouth. “I know what I saw.”

The man sat up slowly, moving with lazy grace as he settled into a sitting position not quite as distracting. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “But what do you see now?”

What she saw was enough to take her breath away all over again, and in an entirely different way. The one thing she definitely hadn't been prepared for was a man who looked like he'd just walked out of the pages of a
Playgirl
magazine.

Jet-black hair fell past his shoulders, parted exactly in the middle and surrounding a face that might have been chiseled from stone: high forehead, prominent cheekbones, strong jawline. His wide-set eyes were dark, so black she couldn't find a hint of irises in their depths. His face was lightly stubbled, his mouth generous, full, and sensual.

The telltale signs of a hard and rugged life had etched themselves into his skin. Scars slashed down his shoulders, abdomen, and legs. Knotted and long healed, they hinted at deadly claws and jaggedly sharp teeth.

But it was the color of his skin that really made Dakoda sit up and take notice. The shade might have been compared to that of a copper pot, used for ages over an open fire. A thin gash angled above his left eye, still puffy and tender. The line of his nose also wasn't perfect, as if broken by a foot or the stock of a rifle.

Overall, the effect of viewing him as a whole was stunning. Here was a man who'd lived a hard life, living on the edge as he fought to survive in a land yanked out from under his feet by encroaching civilization.

Assuming he was even real.

Real or not, though, he looked damn good. Larger than life, his masculine presence filled the small cell.

Gazing at him, a final possibility loomed large in the back of Dakoda's mind, floating out of the shadowy recesses like a red-eyed specter.
What if Greg wasn't the only one who died?
Maybe she'd also been hit by the shotgun's blast. And this place was some kind of limbo, a realm where the normal rules of existence didn't apply. Logic certainly didn't.

She looked at the man who'd once been a cougar. “Did I die?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned. “You're very much alive.”

Testing the theory, Dakoda gave her cheek a hard pinch, all too aware of the pain. Would the deceased feel any pain? She didn't think so.

“I'm not supposed to be here,” she informed him for lack of something better to say.

His lips pulled back in a familiar, feral smile. “Shit happens to the best of us, babe.”

His words were delivered as a verbal slap, snapping her back to reality. Not that it was one she wanted to continue experiencing much longer. As it stood, she was locked in a small cell out in the middle of some godforsaken mountain tract, having been kidnapped to be sold as a slave in some twisted animal act to a private seller. And oh, yeah, her partner had been shot dead right in front of her, gunned down in cold blood by a wanted criminal.

Nothing about this day could get any worse…or any more unbelievable.

Suspending disbelief and discounting death, Dakoda eyed the naked man. “Looks like I wasn't the only one standing in front of the fan,” she commented dryly.

Amusement sparked in his dark gaze. “Looks like I caught a good portion of shit, too,” he affirmed with a smile. He politely extended a hand. “My name's Jesse Clawfoot.” If his looks hadn't confirmed his Native American heritage, his surname did.

Tension knotted Dakoda's shoulders as her hand slipped into his. His flesh certainly felt real enough, warm enough…firm enough. She felt a twinge of confusion, but shook it off, mentally willing herself to stay focused, alert. The least she could do was offer her name. “Dakoda. Jenkins.”

“Nice to meet you, Dakoda.” A flash of straight white teeth followed. “I hope you'll forgive me for the rude introduction. I never could resist a good belly scratch.”

She pulled her hand away. “So where did the cougar go?” she blurted, close to babbling.

Her question startled him. Heavy brows dipped together. “I don't get what you're asking.”

Dakoda wasn't exactly sure, either. Nothing made any sense. But rather than have a complete meltdown, she was trying to work through the matter the only way she knew how. By asking questions and getting answers. She could think about chasing down her errant sanity later.

“You know,” she prompted. “You're here. The cougar's gone. Where's the cougar?”

He got it. “I'm the cougar,” Jesse said, pointing to himself.

Dakoda didn't believe him. “No, you're not.”

Jesse started to shake his head, then shrugged. “I guess you need another demonstration.” Repositioning himself on his hands and knees, he assumed the pose of a crouching animal. “Watch me. Try to pay attention.”

“I will.” Dakoda watched closely. Nothing was happening. All she saw was a buck-ass-nekkid man hunched on the bare floor. “How long does it take?”

Jesse shot her a look of annoyance. “Give me a minute, will you? That crack on the noggin really took something out of me.” He crouched lower and closed his eyes. “Come on,” he muttered under his breath. “Cat, don't fail me now.”

Dakoda watched closely, fighting not to blink an eye.

Then, it happened.

Jesse's body changed, skin budding fur as his features changed and contorted, again taking on the body of the sensuous feline.

A fine tremble shimmied up Dakoda's spine as she glanced around the cramped cell. The Indian had vanished.

The cougar settled on its haunches. Its amber gaze burned with intelligence. Human intelligence.

Dakoda shook her head. “I
am
losing my mind,” she murmured. “I've gone mad.”

The cougar tossed a saucy wink.
No, you're not
, it seemed to say.

The fine hair at the nape of her neck rose. “Don't do this to me, you fucker,” she breathed.

The cougar shifted again, and the naked Indian was back. Dakoda would have sworn she saw the instantaneous second where feline and human met, then separated. How he'd managed it, she didn't know. This time some gut-level sense confirmed the reality.

Her eyes definitely weren't deceiving her.

Jesse Clawfoot could, indeed, turn into a cougar.

He pulled a leg up in front of his body, concealing vital parts from view. “Are you satisfied now?” he asked.

Even though she'd just witnessed his transformation—twice!—Dakoda still had a problem comprehending the entire matter. She mentally ticked off all the rational explanations again. When those ran out she had…what? She wasn't quite sure. One certainly couldn't argue with their own eyes. Looking at him now, she could almost see the power stirring under his skin, see the cougar straining against its imprisonment inside a human's body.

She argued anyway. “But people don't turn into animals. It's impossible. Maybe that sort of magic works in the movies, with the help of computers and a lot of CGI. But in real life?” She shook her head. “No fucking way.”

Brow ruffling with annoyance, he frowned. “I just gave you an up-close and personal demonstration,” he countered. “How can you not believe when you're sitting here, talking to me now?”

Dakoda studied him for a long moment. Her need to believe squared off with the idea that any life-form capable of shifting its physical shape could not possibly be human. At least not in the sense science explained it. “I'm not sure what's happening to me any more,” she finally admitted in defeat. “All I know is I'm not having a really good time.”

Looking at her, his gaze chilled. “This day hasn't been a party for me, either,” he grumbled.

A long stretch of silence ensued.

“How come you can shift, and nobody else can?” she finally asked. “I mean, if anyone could do it we'd all be running around on four paws. Right?”

Jesse's icy gaze thawed a little. “I can try to explain,” he offered.

She nodded. “That would help a lot.”

Jesse drew a deep breath. “Imagine the beginning of time, when the Great Spirit was creating the earth.”

Dakoda hesitated. “Okay…” The problem with that line of reasoning is she didn't believe in God, or a higher power of any sort. As far as she was concerned mankind had climbed out of the primordial ooze. “Wouldn't this shifty-thing go better with Darwin's theory of evolution?” The idea men had evolved from chimps wasn't so far-fetched in her mind. Despite the advances of civilization, Homo sapiens nevertheless continued to act like senseless brutes and beasts.

Jesse considered her skeptical expression. “You aren't buying anything I'm saying, are you?”

Dakoda briefly considered his question before shaking her head. “No, I'm really not into the God and the whole creation-of-the-earth thing.”

He stared at her through heavy-lidded eyes. “Well, that's going to make it difficult for me to explain the Tlvdatsi, then. Our traditions are based on the belief in greater spirits, divine spirits.”

She spread her hands. “Sorry. I wasn't raised to believe in any higher power.” Her jaw tightened. “My mother was too busy shoplifting to buy her crack.” Though she didn't intend it, her voice came out tinged with bitterness.

Exasperation drained from Jesse's intelligent gaze, replaced with compassion. “I'm sorry,” he said. “Maybe I'll try to explain it another time. When we're not so stressed.”

Dakoda snorted. “Maybe I'll try to listen.”

Jesse shot her a frown. “There's no need to be a snotty bitch. You're not the only one locked in this place.”

She considered his statement. No matter where he'd come from, there were now two of them. Her mind set to ticking. “So we've got two heads, and two sets of hands. Maybe between us we can figure out how to get the hell out of here before those assholes come back.”

S
lipping off the bunk, Dakoda prowled the cell, running her hands through the cracks in the walls, then testing the door. The outlaws had a tried-and-true method for locking them inside. They'd simply shut the door, which opened outward, and slid a thick slab of planking across its face. The staples fixed into both sides of the door assured it would remain shut.

Damn. Crude, but effective.

She groaned. So much for the idea of escape. “I think we're going to be stressed for a pretty long time,” she observed dryly. “They've got us locked in tight.”

Arms folded across his chest, Jesse nodded with resignation. “And guarded,” he added. “Make no mistake. Rusty's out there, and he's got his rifle loaded.”

Dakoda winced. At the mention of Rusty and his shotgun, she decided to change the subject. “Would be nice if you could turn into something else,” she commented, allowing herself a mordant smile. “Something smaller.”

The look on Jesse Clawfoot's face said she was an idiot. “A cougar's the best I can do, and that's still a tough one for me. I've only just learned how a few years ago.” His lips curled. “If it helps, I'd give my eyeteeth to be able to do a cobra and slither on out of here. I'd lay one nasty bite on those fuckers.”

She frowned. “I suppose you're lucky you can shift.”

Jesse rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. I just love being hunted by assholes like the crazy bunch outside. It's bad when the Indian still has to bend over and take it up the ass in this day and age. Destroy our people, take our land, mock our heritage. And what are we left with? Fucking casinos and Kachina dolls.”

His words delivered a spiteful kick, rightfully deserved.

Guilt tugged at her conscience. “I'd like to say I understand, but I don't. I have no clue who my people were. I don't even know who my father was. What I do know is your people have a right to survive without fear of being hunted into extinction. As a ranger, that's my job and I want to do it. If I ever get out of here alive, I will see those men brought to justice.”

Jesse snorted, his disgust apparent through his chilly, distant gaze. “That's awfully generous of you,” he snapped. “But I think we've had enough of paleface justice.”

Dakoda felt heat creep into her cheeks. “You might have noticed I'm not so pale,” she said slowly. She pointed to her hand. “My skin may be light, but it's still brown.” She pointed to her head. “And there's no mistaking this black hair has more than a little kink in it.”

He immediately brightened. “I did notice. You're such a pretty shade, like toasted almonds. Your parents must be handsome people.”

Great
. He'd just compared her to a nut.

She narrowed her eyes, staring him down. The one thing she definitely didn't like to discuss were her parents. Neither of them. “My mother is dead,” she said stiffly. “And the only thing I can guess about my father was that he was a dark-skinned man. My mother didn't discriminate when it came to spreading her legs. To her a cock was a cock, no matter the color.”

Jesse slowly stood up. “Then you know nothing of your heritage, of your people?” he asked, casting a look that engulfed her from head to toe. Considering he'd been wearing fur earlier, the fact he now wore nothing jarred. Long and lean, his nude body rippled with muscle. Power. Nestled amid a thatch of tight black curls, his penis was impressive even when flaccid.

Dakoda tried not to stare at him as she wiped a layer of sweat off her forehead. She couldn't help it, though. Her body stiffened in instant response as her gaze skimmed every inch. The dim glow from the lantern on the table caressed his burnished skin. Light and shadow danced together, emphasizing his broad shoulders, the ripples of his chest and abdomen and the length of his muscular legs. Obsidian waves shimmered around his face.

Forcing herself to think about anything but how good he looked, she slowly shook her head. “No. Nothing. My mother never said who he was or where he might have come from. I don't even have a name.” She inwardly cringed as the words left her mouth. She rarely discussed her parents, yet here she was, spilling her guts. How was it they'd gone from strangers to sharing personal intimacies in such a short amount of time?

Jesse stepped toward her, his face intent. “That must be tough, not knowing who your people are—” He reached out, caressing her cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Or where you belong in this world.”

Dakoda's stomach fluttered, her nerves doing a quick little flip. She wanted his hands all over her, wherever there was skin to be caressed.

Something about Jesse attracted her like a magnet. Whether he was conscious of the fact or not, his appeal, his sensuality oozed from every pore. Her pulse fluttered in her throat. She licked dry lips, uncomfortably conscious of her physical reaction to his presence. That same searing primal heat she'd felt earlier in the day, when she'd first spied the cougar. This man had everything she liked in a man; the looks, the build, and the smoking hot body.

Dakoda swallowed over the lump forming in her throat. “It is,” she whispered, mesmerized by his touch. “I've always wished I knew…” she shook her head. “Something. Anything at all would help.”

Taking a deep breath, she couldn't fail to notice the exotic musk of his scent. An image of their bodies locked together in carnal embrace flashed across her mind's screen. As she saw it he was on top, pinning her hands down, conquering her as his hips sank between her spread thighs. Heartbeat taking on a faster rhythm, her teeth clenched. She almost felt his cock—the center of his male power—invading her eager sex with a single hard thrust…

Unexpectedly, Jesse bent forward, lips brushing her forehead. “I'll help you find your way,” he murmured. She could feel need emanating off his body in waves.

Dakoda pulled back, the nearness of his lips threatening to turn smoldering desire into a full-fledged wildfire. Her skin flushed hot, her clit pulsing. The very power of his presence made her palms slick with sweat. “That's not the way to help me,” she breathed, confused by all the undesirable feelings he'd stirred up inside her with just a touch.

Gaze darkening, Jesse stepped back. “Sorry,” he started to say. “I went too far.”

Nerves more than jangled, Dakoda pressed a hand against her chest. “It's not you,” she stammered, trying to make amends. “For a moment I just got a little scared, you know?” Sweating heavily, she fanned her flushed cheeks with a hand. Damn. There was nothing worse than a hot flash brought on by sexual desire. A barefoot walk on the surface of the sun would be cooler.

Jesse sucked in a long breath. “I know what you feel, Dakoda,” he said softly. “I want you to know I would never hurt you.”

Dakoda squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, not really wanting to think of the implications behind his words. “I can't believe this is happening. It's too unreal to even be believed.” She opened her eyes, gazing around the narrow space. “I mean, look at where we are. We're locked up, for God's sake. And—” Her voice wavered. “And I just met you and all I can think about is having sex with you. How freaking fucked up is that?”

He studied her, intrigued. “I don't think it's messed up at all,” he said, smiling easily. “Haven't you ever just looked at someone and felt an instant spark of attraction?”

Dakoda tilted her head up to look at him. Her head barely came to the level of his shoulder. Her own willowy five-ten height couldn't even begin to match his. “I feel it,” she admitted softly. Every time she looked at him her core began to simmer with yearning. “Too much so. And that scares me more than you could ever know.”

Like a magnet
, she thought.
It's like I'm being pulled toward him, whether or not I want to go
.

Jesse slid a hand under her chin, tipping back her head. “We won't do anything you don't want to, Dakoda.” A deep shudder shook his body. “Though I'll have to admit that's going to be damn hard.”

Dakoda didn't answer. The entire day had left a raw wound on her psyche, and she wasn't prepared to deal with anything more complicated than finding a way out. Alive and in one piece would be preferable. Her physical attraction to her fellow prisoner was another obstacle she just couldn't handle at the moment.

A sudden twinge of pressure throbbed behind her eyes. “Let's not make this more complicated than it already is,” she finally said, reaching up and rubbing at her aching temples.

Jesse eased back, putting a little distance between their bodies. “I get what you're saying.”

Turning away, he snagged one of the blankets off the bunk. “I think this might help.” He deftly wrapped it around his waist, tucking it in at the hip so it would stay in place. “Now let's see what we can do about getting out of here.”

The distraction temporarily averted, he set to reexamining the chinks in the cell's walls. Unfortunately his conclusion was the same as hers. The space separating the thick logs forming the walls of their cell was less than an inch wide. Not much for ventilation at all. And unless they could both somehow turn into pancakes and slide through the chinks, no chance of getting away, either.

In other words, they were up shit creek without a paddle.

His hands dropped in defeat. “Looks like we're going to be staying in tonight,” he observed wryly.

Dakoda's bowels knotted. The unbidden rise of tears blurred her vision. She blinked her eyes hard, sending them away. Damned if she'd cry now. “I don't think I can take much more of this.” She wiped her hands over her face, before pressing the heels into her eyes and rubbing hard. Her hands dropped. “There's got to be a way out of this mess.”

Jesse made a sound just this side of a snarl, as though the cougar in him wanted to emerge. “I've been thinking about that since I stepped into the trap those assholes sprung on me.” He shot her a glance. “I have to admit I was mighty glad to see the rangers coming.”

Dakoda took a few quick breaths, fighting to pull herself back together. Having a nervous breakdown just this minute definitely wasn't going to help matters one bit. She needed to stay calm, cool, and collected. She needed to keep her head on straight, and stop sneaking peeks at Jesse Clawfoot's fabulous body. She was supposed to be freeing him, not fucking him.

Though I wouldn't mind the fucking at all.

Dakoda immediately stomped down the thought. Being locked up was distracting enough without having stray fantasies about her fellow captive pop into her head every ten seconds. Looking at him was like putting a shot of straight hundred-proof whiskey on an empty stomach. Intoxicating.

She'd better get a grip on control. Now. Resist the idea of making love to him. It wouldn't be right. Moreover, it wouldn't be professional. She was a ranger, for God's sake. Her job was to protect the endangered species, not molest it.

Dakoda reluctantly cleared her throat. “Unfortunately, the Barnett brothers weren't so happy we showed up.” She shook her head. “I honestly thought we had them. All the time we were tracking them, we had no idea they had backup.”

Jesse grimaced and rubbed his injured forehead. “Yeah, well, the inbred brothers are sneaky like that. Rusty's always got their back.”

Dakoda snickered, glad for a bit of humor to lighten the heavy load they both carried. “Inbred brothers. I like that.” She'd believe it, too. “So crazy runs in the family?”

Jesse's hand dropped. “Sure does. These guys know no boundaries, either. If bad is to be done, they will be the ones doing it.”

“Such a charming bunch.” She frowned. “Is it true we're being sold?”

Jesse sighed “Yes. And I suspect where we'll wind up isn't anyplace good.”

Dakoda felt the air drizzle out of her lungs. “Then they know you're more than just a cougar—what you can do?”

Jesse swallowed hard, then answered. “Unfortunately, they do,” he spat out bitterly. “The poachers sell us to collectors, people who want unusual animals for private zoos.” His mouth turned down. “Or to those who want animalistic lovers.” He laughed shortly, but with little amusement. “I guess one thing we can be grateful for is they don't kill us off for our pelts, teeth, and claws. Those poor damn bears don't have a chance.”

Dakoda just stared at him, trying to fathom the reality behind his words. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know uncommon objects were valuable on the black market, all highly prized by collectors. People made treks all over the world in pursuit of objects their hearts desired. Were willing to do anything, spend any amount, to make the dream of owning the rare prize a reality.

Imagine wanting a person who could shift into an animal. What an exceptional trophy that would be. To possess something so unique would be like having the keys to evolution itself…

A human being who could shift into an animal's form. Live as an animal. Breathe as an animal. Be an animal.

What an extraordinary gift
.

Dakoda's pulse raced with each jarring beat of her heart. “These men have to be stopped. What they're doing is wrong on every level.”