Cats in Heat (10 page)

Erik glanced back at the over-boiled spaghetti, sighed, and turned the stove off.

****

Addie couldn’t get the image from the photo album from her head.

The sand or whatever she was playing with in the doorway—it was
right there
, a memory on the edge of her mind, pushing and pushing. But even as it threatened to return to her, her adult, rational mind pushed back. The war in her head seemed to be between her grandma and her mother—one wanted her to remember, to embrace some part of herself long-forgotten, while the other cautioned that the only way she could remain safe was to forget about all of it.

The whole debate was giving Addie a goddamn headache. Spending hours in the dusty attic wasn’t helping matters—she needed sleep. A lot of sleep.

After turning off the water and mostly drying herself off, she gathered her things and opened the door. Addie stepped out into the dark hallway, startled as she found Erik waiting for her.

He’d filled out more the past few days as he healed, putting on bulky muscle. Some of his wounds had faded. His shoulders were broad and imposing and she could see, truly, how he would be capable of killing in the ring.

But there was a gentleness and warmth to him she couldn’t deny either, nor could she deny the sudden heat she felt in his presence or the tingle of energy running along her skin as she met his eyes.

He’s been keeping things from you, don’t forget. And those amber eyes hold more secrets than you’d care to delve into
.

Her clothes were clutched in her hand and a towel was wrapped around her body from chest to mid-thigh. Her hair was damp still and smelling of the conditioning fruity oil she used to keep it moisturized; water rolled down her back and she suppressed a shiver. The fact that they were both nearly naked—her simply in a towel, him in track pants that sat low on his trim hips—had not escaped her.

Addie glanced away from him, flipped off the bathroom light, and skirted past him for the door to her bedroom.

“Addie,” he called after her in a warm voice she felt straight to her bones.

She paused with her hand on the bedroom doorknob. “Just tell me this: are you safe here?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

“And am I safe while you’re here?”

Dread plummeted when he didn’t answer right away. “For the time being.”

“Then stay and we’ll talk tomorrow. I need to sleep.”
And stay out of my dreams
, she nearly added, though that wasn’t fair—it had been her invading his, hadn’t it?

You know, Addie. Whatever gifts she had, you have too.

Just eight hours of sleep not worrying about any of this—that was all she wanted at the moment.

She stepped in her bedroom and closed the door behind her. The room was dark and would be warm if not for the breeze drifting through the windows. Even without the lights she could make out the outline of the boxes she’d pulled down from the attic. More of her grandmother’s things to investigate in detail.

Tigers, magic healing, and bags of brick dust. What the hell had her life become?

She leaned against her bedroom door and despite the darkness, she still
felt
him there. In the hall, just the door separating them. She couldn’t call the things he said crazy, not the way she felt—not with how she sensed him, felt that familiar warm tug toward him.

For a moment she closed her eyes and let his nearness flood her senses. Heat crawled up her body until she was burning. Her back was to the door and she felt his hand touch the wood, touch where her shoulder would be. The cord between them tightened and all she wanted was to throw open the door and let him in. Let him touch her, hold her, taste her. The bed was a few feet away and her body yearned to have him join her. She’d never in her life felt like
this
—felt this intense craving for another’s touch. Her body responded, nipples tightening and wetness gathering between her legs.

And everything he felt just intensified it. Despite the door between them, she could all but feel his breath, the quick beat of his heart, the hardness of his body. For a moment she let herself imagine it, throwing open that door. That was all it would take. He’d lift her onto him, tearing the towel away. Her pussy clenched at the thought.

Rationality fought back, though. Giving in to...to
this
would mean giving in to so much more. It would cross a line that would entangle them permanently and it wasn’t
safe
. Not when there was so much she still didn’t understand.

She bit her lip, clenched her hands into fists, and resisted reaching for the doorknob. Breath after breath, she drew in air to steady herself, tucked away all her desire. She wasn’t the sort of girl to blindly give in to that kind of thing, after all. Her heart raced but she struggled to calm it.

She all but felt his sigh on the other side of the door, like he sensed her resolve. Though she couldn’t hear his steps, she felt him retreat, and with him went the heat from her body until she was left in the cold dark by herself.

Chapter Twelve

Blood was splattered across the arena floor.

Lincoln didn’t always
watch
fights anymore. Not unless they were interesting ones that offered a good show and promised him a significant amount of money.

But he was still irritated by the disappearance of the tiger and short of killing someone himself, watching the bloodshed tended to relax him, as did the woman on her knees before him with her head on his lap.

His hand was caught in her hair, guiding her head and the speed in which her lips ran up and down his cock. She wasn’t particularly the
best
at what she did but she was capable and enthusiastic. Of course it was this or the arena. That tended to inspire their cocksucking skills quite a bit.

The arena was about half the size of a hockey rink with stadium seating. Every morning things were cleaned, floors bleached until they were white, Plexiglas polished. And every night, fresh blood was shed for an eager crowd. Today the seats were about seventy-five percent full, the crowd currently watching a cougar-shifter fight a low-level warlock. Both parties were severely injured and if they didn’t speed it up, he’d send in a surprise third party to kill the both of them.

His seat was high above the others where he could look down at everything without interruption from a plush, comfortable seat. Occasionally he entertained guests up there but today it was him and the nameless blonde currently laving his shaft. Though familiar pleasure built low in his sac, it seemed to hit a plateau.

He was officially too irritated to get off, it seemed.

Both hands locked on the girl’s hair and he thrust into her mouth roughly. Her fingers locked on his knees as she tried to fight him but he was stronger and she could do little to object other than squeal.

Steps sounded behind him—two of pairs, if he had to guess. Irritated, he sighed and jerked the blond off of him, still keeping her on her knees in front of him by clasping her hair.

“Take a walk, Rogers,” he said. “Angelica, speak.”

Footfalls quickly shuffled away. He waited for his second in command to explain her interruption.

She came forward but knelt beside his chair, just out of his line of vision while he stared absently at the arena below. “We possibly have something about the shifter’s whereabouts.”

“Details.”

“There’s a small town...he would’ve run
far
, farther than he should’ve been able to while injured, but there’s something there. I can’t sense him but Rogers caught a trace of his scent around a few stores. Faint, but it’s there. It’s our closest lead.”

Anyone else could’ve been grasping at straws to buy themselves time, knowing he disliked failure. But not Angelica. If she said they had a lead, they did.

“Shall I dispatch a team to hunt him?”

The thought of catching the fucking tiger and throwing him in the pit to be torn to pieces pleased him, made his shaft tighten with excitement.

He stood, dragged the blonde by the hair for the balcony railing. Realization made her scream and fight, but she was weak and useless; he tossed her easily over the edge. Her screams sounded, then piteous cries as she thumped on the ground. The crowd cheered for blood and the fighters knew what this meant—whoever took her life would have a point for the match.

Her screams were enough—he didn’t need to watch, instead grasping Angelica and pulling her to her feet. His lust-hazed eyes met her knowing ones and her lips yielded when his mouth devoured her. He tore at her clothes and her nails raked his back. She’d sate him, for now, and then the hunt would begin.

The tiger was all but in his grasp.

Chapter Thirteen

Addie didn’t have a class the following afternoon but she ran the desk at the community center throughout the day anyway. She was distracted, barely paying attention when people spoke to her, and repeatedly she had to ask them to repeat things. But she wasn’t entirely ready to head home yet.

She should, she knew. Erik was healing quickly now. He wouldn’t stay much longer—if she wanted answers, if she wanted...well,
anything
from him, now was the time to confront it.

Except there was a wall there, something she was avoiding going through. Because if she moved past it, a whole other world would open up and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

She looked up from the computer screen, where she’d been staring blankly at next week’s schedule, onto the smiling face of Robbie Milford. He’d been doing cosmetic repairs to the center’s upstairs rooms, and his faded jeans and navy T-shirt were streaked with drywall dust and paint.

“No offense, but I don’t think you have that many pennies,” she said with a semi-forced smile.

He took the chair across from the desk and pulled it closer then sat. “Wanna talk?”

“Again, no offense, but not about this.” Boy trouble was one thing—boy-
tiger
trouble was a whole other. “I’d rather
not
think about everything at the moment.”

“Okay.” He drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

She blinked and glanced at the clock on the computer. “Right
now
?”

“Nope, at four when the center closes. Gives me time to change. And—” he anticipated as she looked down at her casual clothes and opened her mouth to argue “—you’re fine, don’t worry. We can get a bite at Haven’s Bridge and have you home before dark.”

The clouds outside were already thick and black, yet another storm rolling in.

“At least before the power goes out,” Robbie amended.

She hesitated, but only for a moment. Honestly, it would be nice to head out for a night and feel normal...
ish
. “Sure.” Her smile felt forced but she still tried.

Robbie’s eyes widened like he hadn’t expected her to agree to it. “Great! Looking forward to it. I’ll finish stuff upstairs and run home for a shower. See you in a bit.” He stood tall, returned the chair, and jogged out of the office.

As Robbie disappeared, her eyes snagged on the phone. She could call her house, yes, but Erik wouldn’t answer, nor would he know to retrieve voicemail. And it wasn’t like she’d be gone
long
, anyway. An hour to eat after work and then home. That wasn’t much.

Besides, he didn’t
own
her. She could damn well go out and eat with a friend and not tell him if she so pleased.

Addie turned back to the computer and reached for the mouse, her stomach twinging uncomfortably. Though she wanted to tell herself it was the rising storm that had her suddenly nervous, instinct said otherwise.

The weather was the least of her worries.

****

At 4:00 p.m., Addie was locking up the front doors when Robbie’s light blue truck rolled up. The sky was nearly black and wind blew hard, shaking the trees and tossing her hair about. But the rain hadn’t started yet and the power hadn’t flickered, so she figured they’d have time to eat.

She climbed in the front, buckled up, and then they were off.

Robbie made idle small talk, which she endeavored to answer though her gaze kept going to the sky. The last time she felt things were
this
off, Erik had showed up at her door.

She still couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.

Haven’s Bridge was fairly quiet when they pulled up. The bar was lit, light shining through the windows, but few cars were parked out front. It would be a few hours yet before the evening rush and band started, and Addie was glad of it. Some peace and quiet and a nice meal would be a good break.

Inside they found an older man who was likely a regular sitting at the bar, hunched over a bottle of beer. A sports channel played on the single TV, the volume turned low so it wasn’t irritating. Addie and Robbie took a booth seat, vinyl squeaky as they sat. A fan overhead spun, stirring the otherwise warm air.

Addie vaguely recognized the bartender who came to their table—the woman had been to a dance class or two at some point but hadn’t stayed long enough for Addie to remember her name. Her hair was bleach-blonde and sat in a high ponytail on her head, and her apron had damp handprints as if she’d just dried her hands.

She didn’t bother with a notebook when she took their orders—she’d probably been there awhile. Addie ordered a beer and a hamburger; Robbie did the same, it seeming more of an afterthought than anything he debated. Oddly, despite the meal being his idea, she had the sense he wasn’t hungry.

She tried to settle herself in the booth, fidgeting in the low lighting. At least in her jeans and T-shirt, she didn’t feel too underdressed—it wasn’t the kind of place people dressed up to visit.

Robbie, though, had cleaned up well in a button down shirt and clean jeans. His face was free of stubble and he smelled of a musky aftershave.