Cat Scratch Fever; Blue-Collar Werewolves V (16 page)

“Oh. Shit.” Nathan’s voice whispered past
Naomi as his hand closed on her arm and pulled her back with a
solid jerk. She found herself behind both Nathan and Morrow.
Intending to find a way around, she growled when Brandon’s hand on
her shoulder stopped her. Instinct made her bare her teeth. He was
wolf, one of the intruders. “No, Lia.” His purposeful use of the
title made her pause when all she wanted to do was go to Matthew’s
side. “It’s a Challenge. We can’t interfere.”

She suppressed a shiver and peered through
the space between the panther and tiger. A Challenge. Wolven and
other canines challenged each other for dominance over each other.
It wasn’t as prevalent in the cat cultures because they tended to
be loners.

Watching Matthew’s liquid response to the
wolven, she held herself still. Her Leo was new and untried, while
the wolven had been born into his power. Still, the wolven was only
a Pack wolf. Not even beta, next in line to the alpha’s place of
power. If Nathan were right, then Matthew’s turning had made him
reborn a king.

Still mostly human, he met the wolven’s
charge, ducking neatly under the swipe of claws meant to take off
his head. Hooked cat’s claws sliced through the strained denim-clad
thigh. Matthew dodged around the wolven, scoring a hit across the
small of his opponent’s back. Gavin snarled and spun, showing blood
through fur low on his back. He was surprisingly light for such a
big creature and backhanded Matthew against his wounded shoulder.
With a hiss of pain, he spun landing against the counter with a
crunch of wood. Pizza boxes flew.

Observers, both wolven and feline, backed up
against the walls. No one was willing to give up witnessing the
fight over safety. Except for Naomi, who was still sandwiched
behind her self-appointed guardians. She tiptoed, trying to see
past when Matthew leapt. Flying from where he’d landed, he twisted
mid-air to avoid the sharp grasp waiting for him and failed. Wolven
claws pierced his shoulder and side as he retaliated with his own
sharp shredding tools. Hands and feet, Matthew was a blur of
motion. The wolven howled with pain and tripped backwards into the
glass and ironwork table. Glass shattered and crunched underfoot
leaving bloody smears. Gavin let him go.

Still, Matthew advanced, dancing and slicing
at the wolven’s bigger body mass. Both of them froze. Matthew held
up a handful of wickedly hooked claws to Gavin’s blond furry muzzle
and waited. A flap of skin folded over itself on his upper chest. A
particularly nasty gash slid from his left temple and down his
cheekbone. Ragged wolven claw marks and slices from the glass
blended into to his other injuries.

Of the two, the wolven carried many more
superficial wounds. His fur was smeared red with blood. Obvious
claw marks made ribbons of his skin. Long scratches in sets of four
and five, bled shallowly over his body. At least every major artery
had a set of thin, precise marks, never deep enough to kill. They
oozed blood. Some would scar, being made by another supernatural
creature. No mark touched the wolven’s face. Yet. Both stared
intently, their breaths coming hard from pain and exertion.

The wolven Changed back to human, healing
much of the glass cuts. “You have until sunset to leave the
Dallas-Fort Worth area.”

“I’ll leave when I’m good and damn well
ready.” Matthew’s voice held the tone of a feline growl, of danger
riding his breath. The Change shimmered in the air, testifying as
to the awesome level of control he was exerting over himself. The
pull of The Leo radiated steadily from him. Echoing rings of power
that widened and pulled at her at the same time it sought and
called more feline kind. “You want me to leave?” The amber of the
lion’s gaze fixed on Gavin’s unnerved blue ones before rising to
encompass that of the shocked hunting party. “Then bring it on.”
The other wolven tensed. A couple shifted their stance, about to go
on the attack.

Gavin jerked his chin down, refusing to give
over to Matthew. “Think about it Gavin.” Brandon’s voice
interrupted the standoff and the cat’s preparations to Change as he
stepped away from Naomi into the circle of the fight. “You just
lost a challenge, initiated by you. Do you really want to risk
dishonor by refusing to abide by your loss?”

Gavin snarled at the intrusion. “You should
be standing with us,
nephew.
What would your alpha think of
you taking up with them over our own kind?”

Brandon didn’t look concerned. He actually
bent down and picked up Ramses, who’d dared enter the circle,
pulled by Matthew’s call. The cat growled once, then seemed to
understand and relaxed under the stroke of the wolven’s hand over
his head. “My father learned the laws of the challenge from his
father. Has my grandfather, Paul Sheppard, stopped honoring the
traditional values of the wolven?” The reference to their alpha
made the other wolven stop and look at Brandon again in a new
light.

“You’re only a relative by adoption. You’re
actions prove that no blood connects us.” Gavin’s gaze raked over
Brandon with distaste. “You’re nothing but the stray remains of
Garrick Moser’s band of werewolves. The council should have ordered
you all put down. ” Brandon went still.

“Apologize.” Matthew said from beside Gavin.
The wolven glanced back at him as if suddenly remembering the
peasant left waiting for a hand out. Matthew’s eyes narrowed. His
hand shot out, knocking the insolent wolven back. He stumbled,
receiving a quick second blow. All almost too fast for the
supernatural to catch. He followed Gavin’s fall, almost a blur as
he crouched over the wolven’s chest, a handful of lethal feline
claws encircled his neck. “If any of you so much as move, I’ll rip
out his throat, then finish with you,” Matthew warned before
digging the tips of his claws in, ignoring the wolven’s squirming
grasp on his iron grip.

He leaned down face-to-face. “First, you’re
going to apologize to my brother. I don’t care what the fuck kind
of world you and
your kind
live in, but in mine, you claim
someone, then he’s yours. Screw blood, screw paperwork, screw your
idiot relatives. You can’t honor that, and then you don’t deserve
being claimed in return.” He pressed home his intent with a small
shake of each point. Matthew’s voice never rose above a quiet, but
deadly conversational tone. “Then, you’re going to take your band
of puppies off my property and out of my vicinity.”

“And if I don’t?”

A slow merciless smile tugged at the corners
of Matthew’s mouth. “I’ll kill the lot of you and let God sort your
sorry asses out.”

“Gavin.” One of the unnamed wolven sounded
unsure.

“You guys ever watch that cartoon about the
lions that kick all the hyenas’ asses?” asked Nathan. They nodded,
without understanding where the werepanther was headed. Naomi did
with the kind of sinking surreal dismay as he finished. “Then I
suggest you and your butt sniffing cronies leave Pride Rock before
Mufasa throws you off the cliff side.”

Chapter Eleven

Matthew let go of Gavin’s neck and slowly
stood up, allowing the wolven to stand. He raised his eyebrows
expectantly in a look that was usually followed by crossed arms.
Matthew held his hands, claws fully extended lightly at his sides,
in preparation to attack. Gavin eyed him and mumbled a resentful
lackluster, “Sorry.” in Brandon’s direction.

“Now get out,” he told him. Nathan smiled
and wiggled his fingers in a shooing motion. They filed out of the
kitchen, led by the naked wolven. The group paused at the front
door, then left, keeping their nude leader mostly hidden inside a
circle of bodies.

From the doorway, they watched the wolves
load into the blue windowless van from last night and slowly pull
out of the driveway. The driver’s glare promised retribution before
he turned the wheel in a hard right, straightened in the road and
drove away, well under the speed limit.

Ramses hissed and spit, growling as he leapt
from Brandon’s arms.
You could have killed them all. Stupid,
stupid, dogs. Think they own everything.
The cat glared at
Matthew as he shut the door.

“When do you think you’ll feel like
leaving?” Morrow asked. When Naomi glared at him, the tiger
shrugged. “It’s a valid question. The Leo isn’t going to leave
until he wants to. I just want to know if we need to be ready for
both BioPet and the wolven to attack.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about BioPet
just yet,” was Brandon’s calm answer. “If they do send someone to
retrieve us immediately, then it will be the same level of
untrained security that they used before. I would bet that they are
going to want to contract this one out.”

“And the wolven?” asked Morrow.

“Matthew just handed the son of the Pack
alpha back his balls on a platter, without even Changing.” He
raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“I Changed,” said Matthew, distractedly
entering the conversation. He paced a few steps into the living
room, then turned to pace along the outer edge of the room. “I used
claws and whatever.” He frowned. “I had stripes and spots dammit.
That a hell of a lot of change.”

“Doesn’t count.” Brandon leaned against the
doorway. “You told them that they are so far beneath you that you
don’t need to tap into your full power.” Matthew paused to stare at
him. He shook his head and began pacing again. “It’s true. Whatever
you are, power-wise you outclass them by a hell of a lot. You have
control that they can’t dream about having and you’re not even
twenty-four hours into your Change.”

Matthew shook his head and made a disgusted
sound. “I don’t have control of this thing. The old me would have
tried to make nice. Negotiate a little time, placate them enough to
leave without making waves.” He stopped and stared at an iron wall
sconce without even seeing the decoration.

“He tried to throw me out of my own house
and something snapped. It was more than that.” He shook his head.
“It won’t take me long to get my stuff. Five minutes.” He laughed,
self-mocking and painful. “Nothing fits anyway. The garage…” He
shrugged. The sense of aloneness reached out to Naomi. She couldn’t
deny his pain and let supernatural magnetism of the Leo pull her
across the room. She wrapped her arms around his lean torso and
laid her head against strong muscles of his back.

Naomi closed her eyes, absorbing the heat
and scent of him. Cat, man, and the blood of his victory. There was
no resistance when he turned and gathered her in his arms. Laying
her head against his chest as his chin rested on the top of her
head seemed the most natural thing in the world. She found she
liked being Matthew’s anchor. Even when the mate’s tattoo on her
breast tingled, reminding her that she wanted a choice in her fate.
The sound of his voice rumbled in her ear, comforted by the sound
until the words themselves registered. “Brandon, go home to your
family. Once back in the safety of your own Pack, the wolves may
let you standing with me slide. Nathan, that applies to you too.
You’re connected to them. Morrow, do you have family somewhere?
Where ever you want to go, I’ll arrange it.”

Naomi pulled away. Taking a step backward,
she couldn’t believe how he calmly made plans to get rid of them.
He was The Leo. She believed that now. How could he abandon them so
callously? His eyes settled on her, calm as if he hadn’t known how
he’d drawn comfort from her seconds before. “Lia. Naomi.” Changing
from title to name, she felt him emotionally distance himself. “Can
you drive a car? Morrow? Neither one of you will be able to get on
a plane without ID. But—”

“We go with you.” Straightening her spine,
she glared at him. When he shook his head, she growled, stopping
his denial with surprise. That angered her more. Naomi advanced
pointing a finger at him. “Who do you think you are, Matthew
Ridley, to throw us away?” he stepped backward, as her power tinged
the air. Crisp, hot. Oh, he had good reason to be wary. She was
pissed. Royally and thoroughly pissed. “You think you are some
nobody-middle-management-human-peon?” Her finger poked at his
chest. “No. You are the Leo.
The Leo
. You think that by
sending us away, you’ll be protecting whom? Us? Yourself?” She
growled at him again, this time showing plenty of sharp feline
teeth. “More will come. Send them away and yet more will come.”

He grasped her wrist, gently stopping her
tirade. “Naomi, this will be dangerous. You shouldn’t have to
suffer for my mistakes.”

She twisted her wrist free. “Fate is a
relentless bitch, Matthew. You can run, but she will find you and
drag you to your destiny whether you want it or not, in this
lifetime or the next. How you manage it is the measure of your own
greatness or loss.” She turned her back and marched out of the
room, unaware of how much a queen she looked at that moment. She
paused only to toss back one last parting. “We’ll be ready to leave
when you are.”

From his perch on the couch, Ramses blinked
yellow gold cat eyes at him, then jumped down to scurry after
Naomi’s grand exit.

Chapter Twelve

Bradley had not slept well. He blamed it on
sleeping away from the Pack, but knew better. He’d slept in
Morgan’s fairy compound enough to know that while he wouldn’t be
bothered by technology or the random feelings and needs that
filtered through the Pack bond, he couldn’t hide from his own mind.
Last night, he’d done his research on the computer in the
roughed-in sheetrock and smooth polka-dot patches of mud that made
up the walls of his room at the in-progress Packhome. Then he’d
retreated to the far more elaborate rooms that Morgan had set aside
for him.

Now as he lay among the silk pillows on the
feather pallet that the elven fairies preferred, he let his mind
wander over his dreams and what they might mean. Before Morgan, he
might have discounted the dreams as random garbage. Now…he was
bothered by the sexual overtones of his ex-wife. He frowned.