Zyl shrugged, tamping down his irritation. This was a powerful guy in every way, and one who would not make a good enemy. As a special envoy and Were-leader, Max carried the Were-King’s power and majesty. Zyl gave a slight bow.
“I came as quickly as I could. The evenings are getting longer, and I dare not shift and emerge from the cheetah enclosure until the public has left the zoo and it’s nearing dark. I ran all the way, thinking it would be quicker in the long run than waiting for transportation.”
Max seemed to accept the explanation. He gave a non-committal growl that did not sound really pissed. “Okay. Sit. I’ve got a lot to cover quickly because I need to get on my own way before midnight.”
Zyl sat, dropping cross-legged onto the floor to land on one of the puffy cushions scattered around the room. Many of the Were-kind were not comfortable in chairs and used them only when it was essential. Max settled in a huge overstuffed chair, in reality just a huge pile of cushions that shaped to his massive frame. He folded his arms and seemed to lapse into deep thoughts for a few breaths.
“We’re at a crossroads,” he said after a time. “His Mightiness has begun to consider coming out and letting humans know we’re here. That might get us a bit more respect and cooperation…at least a touch of fear. Still, I told him I could not fully agree. There’s a huge element of danger in such a course. For now, we’ll wait. The longstanding rule of avoiding detection still holds. Don’t break it.”
Zyl had to school himself to restrain a betraying flinch. It felt as if Max had read his mind. Not that the big man couldn’t, there was an unspoken rule Were-kind respected each other’s privacy. Surely his hedging to the man at the zoo was not too obvious or too huge an error. Nothing had been revealed.
“Aye, I hear and heed. I’d never go against the code and my oath to live by it.”
“Good.” Again, Max almost growled. “For now, we want you to stay where you are and continue to observe and report. We may send you to Africa soon to meet with the cheetah folk there and check for any latent shifters among their prides. That will wait for a time. You’ll be informed if and when.”
He took a slow breath and let it out. Zyl waited, holding himself still and shielding his latent anxiety as best he could.
“What can you tell us about the keepers and other humans at the zoo? Are there any who might be allies if we come to a clash or a revelation?”
Zyl twitched one shoulder. “It’s hard to say. Some of them seem to be impervious and beyond reach. I feel that to them, animals are animals, almost part of the landscape or the environment, creatures they care for and watch over, although to them animals do not have feelings or emotions, no needs besides the basic food, shelter, and procreation.”
He paused then, unsure how much of his new awareness to reveal. “There may be one. He seems to be more attuned than the rest. He works with the cats and has a real affinity for the feline kind, all of them.”
“Latent shifter?”
Again, Zyl gave a slight twitch. “Too soon to say. I’ve only observed him briefly. I can pay closer attention if you advise it.”
“Yes, you must do so. Not closely enough to give anything away, though.”
They talked on some more as Max filled Zyl in on other activities the Were-kind were involved with and the latest gossip and political maneuvering among the various factions. Most of it was typical. The Were-kind were little different from any other tribe or kindred, some good and others less so, some keen and caring, and others dull or deceitful.
The only thing that really caught Zyl’s attention was a rumor a faction of extreme animal rights humans might be planning to invade the zoo and release as many of the animals as they could. Although Were-kind sympathized with their brothers in captivity, this was not anything they favored. It posed too much danger to both the animals and the humans they might encounter once freed. Any closure of zoos must be accomplished in a careful manner that protected all involved.
Finally, Max ended their visit and sent Zyl on his way. Under cover of darkness, he made his way back to the zoo and rejoined the cheetahs, sleeping then as the night waned.
* * * *
After a night of too little sleep during which he could not turn his thoughts away from his encounter with the mysterious and very attractive stranger, Carl drank an extra cup of strong coffee before he headed out to make his morning rounds. Part of his routine involved checking all of the feline exhibit areas and trying to get a good look at every animal in each one. This could be a challenge.
The habitats were set up to at least superficially resemble the species’ natural environment. That meant there was cover, hiding places and plenty of space to move around. Carl usually took most of the morning to observe his charges. If he noted any signs of distress or illness, he watched even closer and summoned the zoo’s chief veterinarian if he thought it necessary.
The first thing he saw was that the pregnant cougar had given birth. Although she had retreated to an artificial cave in the area, he knew of a secret peek hole. Sure enough, two tiny cubs squirmed beside her. He saw them both nurse as he watched. Good. Nature had taken care of that very well. She seemed to be a good mother, although these were her first babies.
He retreated with care to be quiet and continued to check on other groups. Of course, the cheetahs figured prominently in his observations today. He thought he glimpsed the large and commanding male, the one he’d been observing, the animal slipped into a shadowy grotto among the foliage before he got more than a fast look. Illusive, that one. Almost as if he knew when someone was watching him.
Although he should have been informed if a new cat had arrived, Carl decided he had to be a new addition and perhaps just not acclimated yet. Maybe he’d missed something in the records since he had just returned from a week away on a family emergency.
The rest of the cheetahs ignored Carl. They were used to his presence. A couple of the females were almost friendly, half-tame in their behavior. He knew they’d come from a sanctuary in Africa where they had been fed. Not by hand, thank goodness, they’d gotten used to humans and associated them with positive things. In the wild, that could be a danger. Sad to admit, all humans did not have kindly intentions.
He’d just completed his morning rounds when he remembered—a staff meeting this morning. They’d all gotten the notice late the day before. Even if most such meetings were dull, tedious and deemed by most a waste of time better spent in real work, you either showed up or got a royal ass chewing. So, of course, everyone went.
Carl was almost late. He slid into a single vacant seat along the back wall of the auditorium where they sometimes showed films or offered lectures on various breeds and species of animals and other topics of supposed interest to the public. Wilford Hage, the manager of the whole zoo, was already at the podium. It only took a few words before Carl’s full attention focused on the speaker.
“We have a potentially serious situation developing. Although we do not have a date yet, I’ve received very good intelligence that Warriors for Enslaved Animals is planning a big demonstration. It could even escalate to an invasion of the zoo at some point and an outright attempt to free animals from their enclosures and habitat areas.”
The suit-clad man paused as his gaze swept the room. Carl shivered. No one had to tell him how catastrophic such an event could become.
“If this were to happen when the zoo is open,” Hage continued, “I’m sure you can visualize the danger to the public. We’ve all got to be alert and on guard. Additional security staff is being processed in, even as I speak. The rest of you need to keep every sense attuned. If you see visitors who don’t behave normally, protestors inside the outer fence with signs or other badges, anything out of the ordinary, let your superiors know at once.”
Sober and concerned, the staff filed out once the talk was over. Returning to their normal duties, every single one carried a new burden of worry. Even the most rabid of animal advocates on the staff recognized that, a
lthough not ideal, zoos provided care and security that helped to keep many species alive. The creatures were by no stretch “enslaved,” and none of them were mistreated. In fact, they all got the best care that could be provided. Every employee treated the related tasks with almost religious concern. Any that did not were soon out of a job.
Carl went at once to check each area housing his special charges again. After he had checked all the cats, he went to the veterinary offices and took care of necessary paperwork. He often neglected that in the press of shots, processing animals in and out, dealing with medical issues and other tasks directly related to the animals’ care, which he most enjoyed. Once that was done, he grabbed a sandwich in one of the break areas. He soon found himself wandering back around the cheetah enclosure. He never tired of watching them.
At times, they seemed almost awkward, especially the younger ones, like teenagers. They played some rowdy games and then climbed up to sprawl on the limbs of trees in the compound, all long legs and tail. When they ran…They flowed like sun-speckled water in a fast-moving stream. That never ceased to enthrall him.
At last he caught sight of the strange male. This time, the cat stopped and looked right at him. He could have sworn it smiled and winked. He blinked his eyes to clear the ludicrous image and decided his imagination was getting too active. The cat gave a shrugging motion that shifted its sleek hide and then strolled away as if it hadn’t a care in the world. Carl realized then that the pattern of this one’s spots was different in subtle ways from that of the rest. He must have come from a different area, a different bloodline, or genetic pool. That got him wondering: in how many places were cheetahs found in nature?
With that question in mind, he went back to the office and logged onto his computer. Instead of working on his records and data, he went to the Internet to do some research. The afternoon passed before he even noticed. No, there was little chance that the strange cheetah had many different genes. According to all Carl could learn, the existing population, wherever located, was amazingly homogenous. Skin could be grafted from one animal to another with almost no rejection. Every member of the species was close to ninety-nine-point-nine percent identical.
Although their range had once been almost all of Africa, the Middle East and over into India, they were now limited to a certain areas in Africa, with a very few on the Arabian Peninsula.
Not good; not good at all. No wonder they were endangered. They were also becoming hazardously inbred. With this new knowledge, he was more worried than ever about the species, although his curiosity about the strange male was in no way satisfied. The cat was not marked like the rare King Cheetah with the stripes running along the spine; he just didn’t quite look like the others. What was the unusual cheetah, and why had he appeared with no paper trail or official notice here in the San Mirabal Zoo?
Chapter 3
All too soon it was time to make his afternoon rounds as the day drew to a close. Carl managed to time things so he hit the cheetah area last. The sun had just slid down behind the mountains to the west. Would he encounter the mysterious man again? Not sure whether he wanted to or not, he prowled along the fence, moving at a slow pace. He peered into the enclosure often, whenever there was a view past the trees, tall grass and artificial hills and boulders.
Although he glimpsed others of the cheetah pride, he did not see the one male. A female with two cubs was teaching her babies hunting skills. The caretakers released rabbits every evening to let the cheetahs get some of their own food in a natural way. As Carl watched, the mother made a dash for a rabbit. The little critter didn’t have a chance. She could go from zero to sixty miles per hour in a couple of seconds. Although the rabbit could dodge, this one was caught in the open and just ran. It was over in a heartbeat. Mama and babies gulped the fresh meat.
Although Carl felt a twinge of sympathy for the prey, he knew this was a natural thing, and although rabbits might not be the normal source of four-footed food for the cats, they served the purpose here. Then he heard a slight sound behind him. He wheeled around and caught sight of the same strange man. Dressed this time instead of nude, he approached, moving in a graceful glide, almost too smooth to be natural.
“Good evening,” he greeted. “I see you’re observing the spotted cats again. They seem to fascinate you.”
Carl nodded, then sneezed several times and wiped his nose. “That’s true. They do. I’ve been a cat person all my life, even though I’m allergic to them. I guess I should give it up and find another line of work. Somehow I can’t.”
“You’re allergic to cats? How did you ever become a—what’s your title, actually?”
“I’m a veterinary technician. I suppose it’s kind of like a nurse practitioner or a physician’s assistant in the human medical arena. I have to work under a veterinarian’s supervision, although I can do a lot on my own without consulting or receiving specific orders.”
“Yet you’re hit with these symptoms like runny nose and sneezing just from being near cats. All cats or just some of them?”
“All, everything from my grandma’s little tabby to the African lions and all in between. If it’s feline, I react. Crazy, I know because I just can’t get away from them. Life would have no meaning if I couldn’t work with animals, felines in particular. I don’t understand, I seem to have some kind of link or bond.”
The strange man stepped closer, just an arm’s length away, and studied Carl with a pair of keen green eyes and an intent expression. He made a slight sound, a “hmmmm” that almost had the quality of a purr. Then, after a short silence, he spoke again.
“I think I know what’s wrong. There’s a cat inside you needing to get out. If you could let that happen, I’d wager your allergies would get a lot better or even go away.”
* * * *
Zyl almost laughed at the shocked and puzzled expression on the zoo man’s face. As he watched, the guy’s mouth opened and shut a time or two before he spoke.
“W-w-what do you mean? A cat inside me? No way. That doesn’t even make any sense.”
How much should I, can I, tell him? I’m starting to think he really is a latent shifter. There’s something about him…Zyl struggled to frame all he sensed into words the man would understand, words that would not reveal too much, words to explain in the least threatening or jolting way he could.
“What would you say if I told you there are beings who combine human traits and beast traits…maybe have the power to go from one to the other?”
The other man shrugged, irritation and a need to reject the idea out of hand in every sign he displayed. “Sounds like science fiction or some crazy video game to me.”
Zyl’s turn to shrug. “Yeah, maybe. Still, the authors, the game designers…don’t they have to get their ideas from somewhere?”
“Maybe. Like folklore or mythology, I guess. I never understood how writers did that, come up with the ideas and plots and everything like they do. Programmers, too. I still think that’s fiction and make-believe, though.”
The man wasn’t ready. Zyl could tell that. For now he’d back off. Instead, he’d try a different tactic. “You busy in the evenings? This evening?”
Although the other man hesitated a few seconds, he answered readily. “Not really. Although I’m on call, there’s seldom a medical emergency at night. As long as I can be at any part of the zoo in…oh, maybe thirty minutes, I can do whatever I choose. I’m off the clock.”
“Good. I was getting ready to head out to a little bar I found a while back. It’s not rowdy and the drinks are fairly priced. I think we all need to hang out, relax, and let things go now and then. Want to come along?”
“Sure, why not? So long as I only have a beer or two I won’t be under the influence. I guess maybe we should introduce ourselves if we’re going to spend some time together. My name’s Carl.”
“They call me Zyl. Oh, I guess I didn’t say, did I—this joint is kind of a gay bar. You all right with that?”
“Y
eah,” Carl agreed. Zyl noted he showed no hesitation at all about that. “I wouldn’t go to one looking to pick somebody up,” he continued, “If I’m with you, it’ll be okay.” Carl grinned before he went on. “I’m not going over any fences or walls, though. I can let us out through a gate. I have the combination to override the electronic locking codes.”
Zyl grinned back. “That’ll do. I can save my superman tricks for another day. Might need that energy tomorrow. Let’s go.”
* * * *
Carl started toward the nearest gate, a walk-through—the only one in a rather out of the way corner. Although not sure why, he felt it safest to slip out as unobtrusively as they could. Zyl fell into step with him at once. The strange man moved with a smooth gliding step, light-footed and supple in his movements. He was one unusual guy, for sure. For now Carl did not quite know what to make of him, yet he found himself drawn with much more power than he was to most strangers. He tended to be shy and reticent, taking his time before he accepted anyone as a friend, even just a casual one.
Once outside, Zyl assumed the lead, walking so fast Carl almost had to trot to keep up with him. The bar they went to was only a few blocks from the zoo, a bit off the beaten path and not one of the city’s trendy nightspots. It seemed more like a little neighborhood pub than an upscale nightclub. That suited Carl just fine. He wasn’t a big drinker or accustomed to much partying.
Only a few patrons looked up when they stepped through the door together. Zyl led the way to the bar, and they each ordered a beer.
“You want to stay here or find a booth or a table?”
Carl shrugged. “What do you usually do?”
Zyl swept a quick glance around the shadowy room. “At least step back to the side. I’m not trying to catch anyone’s attention.”
Carl trailed him on a diagonal across the room to a vacant booth and slid into it opposite his new friend. For a few minutes, they sipped in silence. The place had an old-fashioned juke box, as well as a small band stand, for the moment vacant.
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