by Terry Spear
“She’s sleeping.”
“I am not,” Demetria said in the background, sounding like she was half-asleep.
“Do you want to talk with him?” Tammy asked, paused, then added, “Demetria shook her head.”
“Are you planning on going home tonight? If so, I’m coming to get you.” No way was Everett letting his sister drive home, considering how she sounded.
“No, I’m staying with Demetria. She needs me.”
“Is she really upset?”
“She looks like a sleepy big cat.”
He smiled and wondered what the sleepy big cat was wearing for the slumber party.
“Let him come over. He can wash the dishes.” Demetria’s words were just as slurred as his sister’s.
Everett’s smile broadened. If he was getting an invitation, he was on his way. Solely to make sure the ladies didn’t get themselves into trouble, of course. But if he could end this on a better note with Demetria, he was all for it. “On my way over.”
“She didn’t mean it!” Tammy said. “Did you, Demetria?”
Everett was hurrying to dress. “What’s her address?”
“This is a Guardian party, no Golden Claws allowed,” Tammy said.
“Tammy…” he said in his authoritative Golden Claw voice.
“Oh, all right. Next time you take her to the movies, ask me if it’s all right first.” Tammy gave him the address. “Do you want a drink too?”
“Don’t let her fix one for you,” Demetria said. “She broke the glass. I can’t afford for her to break any more.”
“It slipped. It was the fae’s fault.”
Smiling, Everett shook his head.
“Slippery fingers, lime, whatever,” Tammy said.
“Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” Training started at five in the morning, but Tammy usually got off at three in the afternoon. And she needed her sleep.
“Uh-huh.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“I can’t see the clock. Is it really two in the morning? Ohmigod, I have to get to bed. Night, Everett. Night, Demetria.” Then Tammy hung up on him.
He wasn’t sure what he’d find when he arrived at Demetria’s place—probably both women sound asleep. He was glad he didn’t have to work tomorrow. He’d stay, make sure Tammy was fit to send in to work and Demetria was okay, then return home to sleep.
When he arrived, he found the door locked, which was good. But no one was answering, which he’d suspected would be the case. He used his lockpicks on the door and entered the condo, closing the door and locking it.
Only the Christmas tree lights were still on.
“Just me,” Everett said, well aware both women had guns, though Tammy probably hadn’t taken hers with her to see her friend. But Demetria might not be sober enough to realize he was just there to help.
He turned on a light in the dining room and kitchen and saw the mess on the floor: margarita mix, tequila, broken glass, slices of lime—the works. He walked around the mess and headed into the living room, where he found Demetria snuggled up against a couch pillow, her silky, dark hair falling over her neck like a scarf and her feet tucked under another couch cushion. She was wearing a pair of red flannel pajamas decorated in penguins and snowman. He smiled, never having seen her in something so whimsical. Now when he thought of her lying around in her pajamas all day, he’d have a better visual. He pulled a red-and-green afghan off the end of the couch and covered her with it.
Dirty dishes and glasses were sitting on the coffee table. He’d take care of those too.
Then he checked on his sister in the guest room. She was snuggled under the covers.
“Hey, Tammy, I’m here. I’m going to clean up the mess you ladies made and just hang around until you get on your way to work tomorrow. All right?”
Tammy looked up at him with narrowed eyes, as if she couldn’t get them open any wider and wasn’t sure who she was seeing. Then she took a deep breath. “Oh…Everett. ’Kay.” Then she closed her eyes, covered herself again with the blue comforter, snuggled against her pillow, and fell back to sleep.
He checked again on Demetria, but she hadn’t moved, so he went into the kitchen to begin Operation Cleanup.
Even though he would have been at home still playing his game and killing the dragons plaguing their world, he was glad to be here as a brother, a friend, and a Golden Claw agent whose mission was to take care of jaguars in need. Still, he’d never believed he would be serving as a maid.
He was nearly done mopping the floor when he saw something move out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. Demetria was leaning against the wall next to the china cabinet, looking half-asleep, her dark hair in curls around her shoulders.
“Are you okay? Do you need something to help settle a hangover?” he asked, continuing to mop the floor.
She snorted. “What are you doing?” Her words were still fuzzy.
“Cleaning up after the party and ensuring Tammy gets to work tomorrow. You don’t want to see Martin when he gets a call that one of his trainers didn’t show up first thing in the morning. Or hear how upset David would be if he learned he had to be out training all night and his mate didn’t come into work the next morning to teach. If she had just…vanished.”
Demetria sighed. “Got it.”
“Why don’t you get some sleep if you can? I’ll leave first thing in the morning.”
She nodded and turned, and nearly fell.
He sighed, set the mop against the counter, and stalked toward her. She held up her hand to ward him off. “I can do it.”
“Yeah, and you’ll make it by the time I leave in the morning.” He gently scooped her up in his arms, feeling way too much like he was taking her to his bed, and carried her down the hall to the room she indicated was her bedroom, putting her in her own bed. He covered her up and, well, hell, kissed her cheek. Which is what he had wanted to do before they ended their time together last night. Well, kiss her lips, hug her, more.
Her eyes widened a little. He smiled and said good night. Then he went back to his maid duties.
When he was done, he removed his clothes except for his boxer briefs and stretched out on the couch, covering himself with the afghan, wrapping himself in Demetria’s scent, and thinking this was as close as he might ever get to heaven.
Chapter 6
Everett got his sister up and rushed her off at four in the morning so she could get to work on time. Then he checked on Demetria, but she was still sound asleep. He sighed. He hoped she would feel okay when she got up. He had every intention of making her a concoction to take care of a hangover, but thankfully Tammy didn’t have one, so he hoped Demetria would also be fine.
He grabbed a cup of coffee and had just settled back on the couch, closed his eyes, and fallen asleep when he got a call. Hell, had Tammy not made it to work after all? He should have driven her. Then he saw that it was half past five, shortly after his mother opened her day care, and that’s who the call was from. Mary Anderson owned and operated the Little Angels Day Care—for jaguar shifters only. If a human family tried to reserve space for a child, she’d quickly tell them she was booked. Jaguar referrals or shifter families she already knew were usually the only ones she signed up to stay at her day care.
Mary took in jaguar-shifter cubs for working parents and watched older kids from time to time so moms could run errands or go to social events without worrying about their kids or finding a sitter. Sometimes moms wanted time to run alone as jaguars and would leave their children off at the day care for a couple of hours, which meant their kiddos would turn into jaguars cubs, so his mom couldn’t ever take in a strictly human child.
She loved all the kids like they were her own, but when she called him like this, it had to mean trouble.
Everett didn’t mind helping her out when she needed some m
uscle to put things together or whatever. Though he’d really wanted to sleep in a bit this morning after playing video games so late and then the business with Demetria and Tammy last night. But the thought of actually managing a bunch of pint-size kids? That was better left to others who were into the little tykes. He had no problem with teens.
Even now, he could hear the kids screaming and crying in the background.
“You have to come help me right away.” His mother had dealt with a number of crises with kids at the day care over the years, anything from a jaguar cub biting another who was still in his human form and breaking the skin, to a jaguar cub slipping out into the backyard, leaping from a playground castle to the fence, and jumping over it to run free. That escape had caused a massive jaguar hunt for the wayward preschooler for two hours until Everett had heard him snoring, sound asleep underneath an overturned fishing boat in a distant neighbor’s yard.
“If it has to do with kid problems at the day care, someone else can take care of it. Maybe Huntley? He and his mate managed jaguar cubs in the jungle and did a great job of it.” Everett desperately tried to think of alternatives, but if his mom was calling him, there couldn’t be any. He was definitely a last resort.
“You know very well they are away on missions or teaching new JAG agents. And Maya lives over three hours away. You’re not working any cases right now. You told me you were off for the next two weeks. And this is an emergency. I need you now.” Then she hung up on him.
So much for getting out of it. He sighed. He knew she had to really need his help, and he was already getting ready to tackle whatever the problem was.
Looking at the cold, wintry day outside, he scribbled a note for Demetria, telling her to call him if she needed anything and that he hoped she was feeling better. He wanted to say he’d planned to fix her breakfast, if she could stomach it. Or whatever else she needed. But she might just sleep half the day anyway, so he only said that he needed to go.
He drove to the day care twenty minutes away and parked, braced himself, and headed inside, the doorbell playing the rendition of cats meowing the tune of “Jingle Bells” instead of the usual “Yellow Rose of Texas” melody. The place was cheerful, perfect for jaguar shifters, the walls painted in vivid jungle motif—green vines and trees, with colorful orchids, monkeys, jaguar cubs, and parrots hiding in the dense foliage. Even the child-sized furniture included chairs and tables hand-carved in the form of zebras, giraffes, and jaguars. A large fish tank sat against one wall, featuring all kinds of colorful fish, and an iguana had his own exhibit nearby.
Tons of children’s handmade Christmas decorations hung on a Christmas tree—everything from colorful paper-chain garlands, strings of cranberries, and popcorn garlands to handprint angels in clay molds and reindeer cut out of colored paper with red pom-pom balls for noses, making it appear Santa Claus even made trips to the jungle.
Everett’s mother rushed out to greet him, wearing green jeans and a T-shirt with a jungle print featuring a jaguar’s portrait, the cat wearing a Santa’s hat for Christmas, and the name of her day care written across the top. Her dark-blond hair, streaked with strands of white, had fallen loose from her bun. She looked like she was having a really tough day, even though it had only just begun. She wore a deep frown and was wringing her hands, but she gave him a quick hug. “We have a real crisis on our hands.”
Everett noticed that whenever his mother had a real crisis, their father, Roy Anderson, stayed clear of the place. He was an undercover operative of some sort, but being undercover, he’d never told the family the real story of his work.
“One of the kids is deathly sick? Or dead? Wounded? Escaped again?” Everett couldn’t imagine anything else that could be that drastic.
“No, no, worse.”
“Worse?” What could be worse than any of those situations? His mother wasn’t given to hysterics without good cause, he reminded himself.
“We were getting ready to practice for the Christmas play when three of the four-year-olds shifted.” She headed toward a back room.
“The mom or moms didn’t tell you they were going to run as jaguars?” He didn’t get what the severity of the problem was. He was certain that had happened at her day care before, and it was no big deal.
Then he heard a growl, a bark, and a small howl coming from the room. He frowned. They didn’t have dogs at the day care.
“Come here, you. Come here!” Lacy said from the back room.
Everett wondered why she was here.
A louder bark and growl, then scratching and more hissing and snarls sounded.
“No, no, no. It’s okay, puppy.” Lacy’s voice was alternately in charge and then coaxing.
“A preschooler was dropped off at the day care,” his mom said. “To our shock, the boy turned into a white wolf pup.”
“No way.”
They reached the room, and his mom pulled the door open. “I couldn’t get ahold of the cubs to protect them from the wolf pup, or vice versa. Every time I tried, they leaped out of my reach. And the wolf pup scrambled underneath the furniture. Heidi had to take care of the other children while I called you to help us out. Lacy’s been trying to get ahold of him.”
Six years old now, Lacy was wearing her angel wings and a white angel’s costume, her hands on her hips, but when she saw Everett, she ran to give him a hug. She always did, no matter how much time had passed since he saved her in the Costa Rican rain forest. He found the hugs endearing and was glad she hadn’t had nightmares about the experience.
But what really grabbed his attention were three jaguar cubs hissing at a wolf pup—a white Arctic wolf pup. He was running back and forth, looking like he wanted to play with them but wasn’t too sure, since he kept trying to approach them and then leaping away. The jaguar cubs moved toward him too but were clearly unsure how to react, alternately sniffing and jumping and scampering backward.
“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lacy looked up at Everett with wide, green eyes.
“He is.” But what he was doing here was another story. When the pup saw Everett, he ran to greet him. The jaguars chased after the wolf, and Everett scooped him up in his arms to protect him. The pup licked his face in greeting, his tail wagging a hundred miles a minute in appreciation. Everett smiled. Not that this was anything to smile about, but the pup was cute, and he liked Everett. That certainly gave the pup points in his favor.
Two of the jaguar cubs were wearing halos around their necks. The other jaguar had managed to slip out of his. White cotton angel gowns lay scattered on the tile floor, along with a set of pint-size clothes—sneakers, socks, underpants, jeans, a blue sweatshirt, a sweater, and a heavy gray jacket.
Everett didn’t believe it. “Mom, werewolves don’t exist.”
“I’m not crazy. He shifted.”
“Did you see him shift?” Even if she had, he didn’t think he’d believe it unless he actually saw it for himself.
“Well, no. I was trying to dress the preschoolers in their angel costumes to make sure they all fit for the play in a week. Heidi was busy with spilled cereal and milk when Tommy accidentally tipped his bowl off the table. Then the baby needed his diaper changed, and another started to throw up. I had to leave the room for a moment when Heidi needed me to take care of the baby who was throwing up while she was changing the other baby’s diaper. She quickly finished and was headed to the room to take over for me when the doorbell jingled its tune. We had one toddler who hadn’t been dropped off yet, so that’s who we expected. Then she called out that it wasn’t Sarah. And all the growling and barking and hissing began.”
Everett glanced at Lacy. She raised her hands in the air and shrugged. “I was helping Heidi clean up the mess Tommy made so I didn’t see the new boy shift.”
“Where did you get the pup?” Everett asked his mom.
“A woman dropped him off.”
He
didn’t know how his mother could deal with all of it. He’d rather fight terrorists in the jungle.
“The pup smells like a wolf,” Everett said as the pup snuggled against his black sweatshirt, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.
Lacy reached up to pet the puppy.
“Heidi thought his jaguar parents must have owned a wolf dog. We were busy. It’s always hectic first thing in the morning when the parents drop off their little ones. Though not usually this chaotic. We’re trying to get them all fed and start our programs for the day.” His mom went to remove the halos from around the jaguar cubs’ necks.
“I thought the jaguar moms would tell you if they were going to shift.” He knew that wasn’t exactly the point, but he was trying to make some sense of the chaos.
“They did, Everett. We were just behind. I was fitting their gowns and halos, and I didn’t realize it was getting this late.”
“What about the person who brought the boy in?”
“Heidi said she didn’t see her. We heard the doorbell kitty-cat ‘Jingle Bells’ song, but no one was in the outer room. The woman just set the boy over the gate and left a bag.”
“Are you sure this isn’t someone’s idea of a prank? Someone just pulling your leg? They switched out the boy with a wolf pup and left him?”
“No. Heidi was with him the whole time. She asked his name, and he said his mommy told him never to talk to strangers, but he said his mommy and daddy were coming to get him later. He started tugging at his clothes to pull them off and said he had to shift. She didn’t know what to think. He didn’t smell like a jaguar. But human kids would never say such a thing.
“She tried to help him off with his clothes and called out to me in a panic. When she turned back, he had already shifted, still wearing his clothes, all but his shoes and jacket. ‘Ohmigod,’ Heidi said. ‘Ohmigod. He’s…he’s a wolf.’ Well, of course all the kids wanted to see, and the next thing I knew, some of the ones I had been dressing for the play had shifted into jaguars. And that’s what you see now.”