Hunting the She-Cat (6 page)

“Some tough guard dog you are, Gixie,”
she said. “Relaxing on the job.”

She closed her eyes. What was it Lugar
had said to her with his exotic green eyes so serious? ‘I came for
you’. That was it. “I came for you, female.” All imperious and
bossy. She shivered a bit as she remembered his commanding
voice.

From out beyond her windows she heard a
wild cat call. Her old friends knew she was here and welcomed her
back with joyous cries.

Pushing the blanket aside, she went to
the window. Night was falling. Did she dare transform and take a
quick run? Blood bubbled in her veins at the thought.

But she was here to hide, to lick her
wounds, to lay low until the big monster, Lugar, gave up and took
his cat self back to whatever nut house he came from.

“But he’s right, Gix. I am a shifter. A
she-cat,” she whispered. He was not crazy about that much. She
flexed her shoulders and neck, resisting the overpowering urge to
shift shapes now and leave the safety her cabin walls, to explore
the beloved woods and trails of her childhood.

Another invitation came from the lynx
pride. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“What the hell?”

She grabbed Gixie and took him to the
safety of his little crate in the mud room off the kitchen. “Sorry,
bud. I’ll be back ASAP.” He whined a protest until she tossed him a
treat. “Uncle would say I spoil you.”

Once on the back porch, she locked the
door behind her. She launched herself up to the railing and shifted
in midair. A little dramatic and foolish but she felt wild and
foolish tonight.

A full, white moon climbed the starlit
sky, outshining the stars.

Misha called back to her friends and
ran, galloping over fallen logs and through the deep woods,
exhilarated, her vision so much better in this form. Her sense of
smell enriched ten thousand times over.

The freedom and the exertion of the run
was blood-pounding good. She’d held herself in human form so
rigidly without a shift for over two years. The risk of being
caught, even here, grew each year with high-value vacation homes
being built in these hills where the land was once hers
alone.

Also, she’d never felt total control in
she-cat form, as heavenly tempting as it was. She feared her own
power and strength. The wild nature was too near the surface, the
need to hunt prey so powerful.

* * * *

“By Eliava’s seas,” Lugar whispered,
awed. The female was stunning as a cat, more amazing than he’d
imagined. Still in human form himself, his hands flexed on their
own, the need to change and go after her clawed at his self
control. He shook his head wildly. A low moaning growl came from
him before he could stop it.

As he watched her leap and climb the
rocks with the perfect agility of, well a true cat, he smiled. She
looked about her with sensible caution, checking to see if she was
being followed.

“Good, girl.”

But in the next moment the smile fell
from his expression. As soon as she reached the wild cliff’s
plateau, a pride of cats came out of nowhere and surrounded her.
His heart pounded in his chest, his blood boiled. He swore under
his breath in his native language. He couldn’t reach her in time to
save her, but he jerked into action, moving to try to protect
her.

He chose the straightest course,
ignoring sharp scratches of low branches and the sting of wild rose
briars.

With cataclysmic awareness, he knew he
would not survive finding the precious female only to lose her so
soon.

As he drew closer, he realized the
breed of the other cats was unknown to him, smaller than she but
there were five of them. Judging from size differences, three males
and two females.

Feathered tufts of hair adorned the
points of their ears and they had almost no tail at all. How
strange that was, unheard of in his world. He’d had to hurry his
research but he should have paid attention to the native cats. He
did know their claws and teeth were as impressive as any he’d
seen.

By the time he broke over the edge of
the cliff he’d shifted to cat form, growling fiercely. He’d lost
sight of her for about a hundred yards now as he climbed and
dreaded like hell to find her torn up.

When he was near her he said, “Get
behind me,” unaware he’d used his native language until he saw the
confusion in her eyes.

“Shit,” she spat.

“I said get behind me,” he repeated in
English. Primal drives demanded he just shove her back the way
they’d come. He resisted.

“Back off,” she hissed. “How on earth
did you find me so damn quick anyway? It’s not possible. Damn it, I
thought I’d have at least a day or two to myself before you caught
me.”

Aggravation. “I can smell you, baby,
remember? Cat.”

Meanwhile the indignant foreign cats
bristled and snarled at him, pacing in warning. Then they did the
group thing and began a slow stalk toward him, soon would try to
get around behind him no doubt. Damn. He backed up using the cliffs
edge to stop them from surrounding him.

Then he heard their calls to her and
realized what they meant. They knew her, loved her even. Hellfire.
He could not make out the language, but the affectionate tone of
their feline speaking was universal.

And now they wanted him dead, all of
them. Saw him as the threat. Except maybe the blond female to the
right who eyed him with something very different in
mind.

Misha spoke in the language of the
other cats. Hopefully she’d be telling them, ‘Wait. I know this
male’.

The leader spoke to her, questioning
her, apparently arguing. A part of Lugar admired the male’s clear
desire to protect Misha from himself.

“I can’t vouch for him entirely but
he’s not here to kill me. I don’t think. Are you?” Then she
repeated her words for him in English, a longsuffering sigh in her
voice.

“I would like to beat you for risking
your safety with this pack, but I will not kill you.” He realized
the irony of his promise in light of his mission for
Gald.

He stepped nearer the big
male.

“I said, ‘back off’, Lugar. My friends
bristle when you speak to me in that haughty-male-bossy-tone damn
thing you do. Stop it and you may survive this meeting.”

“Tell them to leave us.” He stepped
toward her menacingly, shaking his head. He could show her true
bossiness.

The pride bristled and growled, showing
fangs at him as one.

“I will not insult my friends by doing
so. It’s been too long since we’ve seen one another. You can suck
it up and accept their hospitality for a few hours and then I will
return with you to my cabin.”

Hell with her so-called friends. He put
his face to hers, muzzle to muzzle. He inhaled the sweet smell of
her breath.

“Arrrrgh. I should let them have you
for dinner.” Now she bared fangs.

Stubbornly immune to her attempted
browbeating, he used his body to corral her, shove her gently to
show the other two males she belonged to him alone.

Her eyes glowed with angry fire now and
she screamed a warning and struck out at him in anger with
unsheathed claws.

The sound of it hit him right in the
gut and in the depths of his groin, arousing him
painfully.

Perhaps he overplayed this.

The males still bristled and growled
and paced, ready to strike at a word from her. By the look of both,
they were ready and able to fight.

And then she did something amazing. She
drew a breath, calmed and said, “Lugar. Stop this.”

The sound was rolling growl, but the
two words were human language. No one could manage that. No one on
Eliava spoke as a human in cat form.

The other cats leapt back away, alarmed
by the feminine voice.

“Sorry,” she purred in their direction,
in their language. “Sorry.”

To them she expressed her regret but
not to him.

“Now see what you made me do?” she
asked of him. “With all that macho posturing you made me talk human
in cat shift.” She was shaking her head.

“I do not see trying to save your life
as posturing. Verbalizing as you did in human speech should not be
possible while a cat.”

“It’s difficult. It took me a long time
to master it and I’m not perfect. One or two words I can manage.
I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”

She spoke to the others, “I will go
with Lugar now.” She glared at Lugar. “Of my own choice. Another
time, friends, we will visit longer. Catch up.”

With that, she took off back the way
she came, faster.

Left to face the pride alone, Lugar
nodded. “Ah, well, I suppose I’d better try to catch her.” He knew
they had no idea what he said.

On a steep ridge two large cats stood
watching.

“Seems like he missed a good
opportunity to kill her,” Harro, in tawny cat form, said. “Make it
look like those other cats there did it. Nothing left of her for
the human scientists to tear apart under their scopes. If anyone
came along, they’d see bits of fur and bone and know it as a cat
fight in the wild.”

Sneal, in tigon form, did not look
happy. “He has his plans. The others might have had a small chance
of disrupting his kill. A male can never underestimate another cat,
even a small one like you. Much less a pride.”

Mmm. Right, sir.”

Beyond the lost opportunity, the
commander had also looked possessive and protective of their pretty
lost female. Harro hid a smile but this observation he thought best
kept to himself. No need to bother Chief Sneal with that much
information. Sneal was a lunkhead, not the type to notice details
like the sexual interest the Commander showed the woman.

“We’ll follow them. Watch from a
distance.”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

Chapter Six

Misha tore into the mud room of the
cabin at an outrageous and reckless pace, bumping her hip on the
door frame.

“Ouch,” she moaned. Having a bad week
all around.

She always left the door ajar when she
ran as the she-cat, to facilitate a quick reentry. She’d been so
sure she could beat Lugar here, at least outpace him enough to
close the mudroom door in his face. But he was right on her tale,
shoving his huge paws in the doorway even now.

She turned to him and hissed, baring
her teeth, lip curled in angry warning to stay away from
her.

His response was a cat’s laugh,
rumbling and challenging. His nose wrinkled upward in
threat.

She felt an almost uncontrollable urge
to swat him in the whiskers. “I did not invite you in
here.”

“Too bad, female.” The tone of his
grumbles were rough and abrupt. He stepped toward her, menace in
every line of his sleek body. “I grow weary of reasoning with you.
Time wastes. I need you to come with me.”

“I need you to leave my place.
Now.”

He shook his head and roared. The sound
caused her to jump back a body length.

Lugar crouched back on his haunches and
leapt at her, tossing her roughly to the floor. With more nerve
than she knew she had, she kept him at bay with her claws. Not
digging in viciously but firmly.

She swore he laughed. “You push me too
far. I’m here for your own good.”

“So you say. I’m doing fine taking care
of my own good myself. Get. Off. Me.”

In a flashing change of intent, he
nuzzled her neck, purred to her, nipping softly, gently trapping
her to the floor with one large shoulder.

“Female you drive me to the
unusual.”

A surge of answering feminine response
shook her frame.

“I have never held a female more
compelling.” He made to climb aboard.

“Hey, what do you think you’re
doing?”

“In this form there are not the
formalities as with human forms and cultures.”

“Hey, excuse me. With me there are.”
But, god in heaven, she loved the feel of him sliding over her,
pressing his weight down, down, down. The warmth, the gentle
bristle of his tawny haircoat, the contrast of it to her lighter
fur.

The feel of him against her was
glorious, sensual. She reached back and bit his neck. Then his
chest, munching on him, getting him shiny-wet with her
tongue.

His grumbling voice came again,
moaning. “That’s it. Now we’re making progress, female.”

His confidence angered her. She hissed
and spat at him, squirmed under him just for putting him in his
place.

He drew back, but not from fear.
Peripherally she saw him step away, laughing at her. After a long
moment spent just watching her, both of them breathing rough and
hard, he came back to her. Slowly, testing his welcome. When he
reached her, he nipped at her butt now, one side then the other.
Small sexy nips, ruffling the fur backwards.

Again she snarled and
hissed.