Puma

by Jorrie Spencer

  He swallowed and when he spoke, he seemed to have some difficulty getting the words out. “You should go.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  His gaze went diffuse, presaging that trancelike state he entered when she asked a question that caused him some difficulty. She could jump past it, by answering herself or simply changing the subject. This time she decided to wait it out. Because he wasn’t very close to her—he now sat on the opposite side of the bed—she pulled herself up onto the mattress, crossed her legs, and leaned back against the headboard. A good two feet lay between them, but at least they could sit at eye level.

  He watched her closely.

  She’d seen revulsion in men before. Trey had warned her that one of the gifts and pitfalls of being a shifter was having extraordinary senses. It was easy to pick up reactions humans might not. As a wolf, Trey’s special gift had been smell. Puma, on the other hand, gave Callie keen eyesight and hearing.

  Dev wasn’t repulsed by her joining him on the bed, but there was some kind of strain. His body was tense, shoulders stiff, hands clenched.

  “No.” The word was a bare murmur and it took a moment to realize he was answering her question, Do you want me to go? She smiled, but he didn’t. Even in the darkness Callie could see that his answer was a confession of sorts, something that embarrassed Dev and heated his cheeks with the flush of blood. “But you should leave. Safer.”

  He glanced away then, his face twisting.

  “Safer for who? You, Dev?” She didn’t want to make it worse for him.

  He shook his head. “You. Get away from Scott.” The words seemed wrung from him, as if they cost him effort to speak.

  She could make out the slightest vibration in his body and she didn’t like it. “You know, I don’t like Scott much.”

  “He’s not all bad,” Dev said immediately. It sounded like some kind of standard reply, but Callie couldn’t imagine very many people discussed Scott with Dev. Her appearance and her questions seemed to have placed the household in disarray.

  “People rarely are all bad.” She thought that was a nicely diplomatic reply. “I’d like to understand him better.”

  “You can’t.”

  “I’ll try then. How did you meet Scott?”

  It took a long time for Dev to do whatever he did with his brain while he searched for a response. Callie listened to the night insects, crickets mostly, and the rustling of leaves that came with the soft breeze.

  Dev’s breath shuddered out. “I used to…look after him. Sometimes. When he was younger.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” He didn’t sound sure at all.

  “I’d guess that Scott’s ten years younger than you, no? Did you babysit him or something?”

  He rubbed his mouth. “Or something.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I used to look after Scott,” he repeated wearily with an air of defeat, and she decided that she wouldn’t ask any more questions. Besides, she didn’t know what to do with the answers, and the questions hurt the dark-eyed man who sat on the bed with her.

  “I like you, Dev.”

  That had him jerking his head up. “Don’t bother.”

  “No?” She fought the sinking sensation in her stomach. After all, her investigation into Ruth’s situation was not about her attraction to Dev. She was used to this kind of disappointment, to one-sided crushes. In fact, Trey would never have allowed such a declaration on her part. He hadn’t allowed any kind of small talk.

  Still, she felt a connection to Dev. Maybe because he was the only other semi-sane adult in the house. Connections, in her experience were rare, so it was a little painful to be told not to bother.

  “I, uh, I’m not interested.” At her frown, he elaborated, “In sex. Never have been.” He gave a lopsided smile that reassured her in its odd way. She suspected that in other situations, he could be charming.

  “Oh,” she said, eager to reassure him that she had no expectations. These night visits with their whispered words were special in and of themselves. “Then we’re a good pair. I don’t even like sex.”

  That had him raising his eyebrows. “You don’t?” He found this curious. Then, as if something turned over in his mind, his expression became grave. “Something bad happen?”

  “Oh no.” Another benefit of being a shifter. Her natural strength made it unlikely she’d be forced into bed by a normal man. “It’s just me. The way I am.” Why was she talking like this? About herself. She was supposed to be trying to understand Dev’s relationship with Scott, to understand Scott. Still the words tumbled out. Perhaps because no man had ever told her, while in bed with her, that they weren’t interested in sex. The novelty intrigued her. “It’s uncomfortable.”

  “Uncomfortable? The sex, you mean?”

  “Well yes.” Wasn’t that what they were talking about?

  He winced. “It shouldn’t be uncomfortable, Callie.”

  “That’s because you’re a guy.”

  His gaze became very intent, warming her. “No.” Dev sounded so sure of himself, and he didn’t usually.

  “But…” The guys she’d bedded had never seemed uncomfortable to her, but what did she know? “So what about you, why don’t you like sex?”

  “I’m not interested in sex, Callie. There’s a difference.” He shrugged. “No sexual drive. Don’t particularly like physical contact, you see.”

  Callie frowned, remembering the way Madison nestled into Dev. He certainly didn’t recoil from the child’s touch. Maybe he meant sexual contact. Her heart rate sped up, even though it was stupid to hope for that kind of connection.

  She became so lost in this idea she didn’t realize Dev’s focus had gone diffuse again, as though caught by the thoughts spinning in his head. At his blank expression, an expression she had begun to blame on Scott, a thought struck her, and she stared at Dev’s profile. Strong nose and jaw. Short cropped hair. Deep-set eyes.

  She had this awful thought that Scott could have told Dev he didn’t like touch and by the telling of it, the concept had sunk so far into Dev that he believed it. She didn’t understand how Scott worked, but she understood enough to know he worked something on Dev with his words. How deep did that influence run? What would be the point of telling Dev he wasn’t interested in sex? Sometimes when Dev gazed at her, Callie had thought he was interested. But she didn’t have a lot of experience.

  She decided to wait Dev out and let him speak after his admission, rather than turn the conversation away from it. Long minutes passed and she hoped it wasn’t too painful to be in his head.

  “Callie.” His voice sounded strangely thick, and she liked the way he said her name, like it meant something to him. The idea sent a frisson through her. “You should only have sex with someone you like, who can make you comfortable, right?” His question suggested she might find this statement obvious. Given that she was never comfortable with humans and the only shifter she’d known had shown zero interest in bedding her, that hadn’t been possible.

  “Okay,” she agreed to ease his concern. It was easy to talk in the dark, where she could tell by his expression that he couldn’t see her face clearly. “But I’m not usually comfortable with men.”

  He just gazed at her, at a loss.

  “For example, Scott. I don’t like Scott.”

  “Scott doesn’t count,” he declared harshly. “Scott’s in trouble.”

  “In trouble, or trouble?”

  “Both.”

  She should ask for clarification, and she might have, if she’d thought Dev able to supply her with more. But she was unwilling to send Dev off into another trance. She feared it harmed him and there’d already been too many trance-inducing questions this conversation.

  Feeling weary after a day of doing as Scott asked and everyone thinking this was just the normal course of action for her, Callie yawned.

  “Time for bed?” Dev gave her a faint smile.

  She wanted to ask if sh
e could stay here, but it was difficult to say the words out loud. She hated rejection.

  He spoke into her silence. “Is Ruth hard to sleep with?”

  “She’s usually a restless sleeper. Moves around a lot.”

  “Sounds like me.”

  Callie nodded. That was close enough to a dismissal for her. Still she crawled across the bed towards Dev, watched his pupils dilate—a sign of arousal. So he could be aroused, but still not like sex. Want sex, she corrected herself. She was the one who didn’t like sex. If anyone knew there was a difference between like and want, she did. Or she wouldn’t have ended up in bed with strangers.

  She knew it would be an odd gesture for him, but she couldn’t stop herself. She rubbed her cheek against his knee, catlike, though she really wanted to burrow into his chest, his throat.

  “Good night.” She pushed off the bed, figuring that if he hadn’t recoiled, that was something.

  “Good night, Callie,” he murmured as she slipped out the door.

  She crossed the hall and slid back into bed beside Ruth, whose restlessness of the past two nights had mysteriously vanished. Right now her little sister slept like she hadn’t a care in the world. Her face relaxed, she lay on her back, one arm flung behind her head, the other by her side.

  With a shiver, Callie recalled how Scott had bid Ruth good night.

  “Sleep well, Ruth,” he’d said, like it was a chore she had to undertake for his sake, “and sleep deeply. You need your rest.”

  “Yes,” Ruth had agreed with a strange fervor, and while Callie had been eavesdropping and out of sight, she could just imagine Scott gripping Ruth’s arm or shoulder while staring intently into her eyes. It was his modus operandi. Callie shook out her own arm, remembering his hand on her.

  And now, magically, Ruth the light and uneasy sleeper was restless no more. It made Callie sick. Although what evil person insisted that their victims get a good night’s sleep?

  Callie lay back, hands behind her head and tried to put the puzzle pieces together. Scott with his words and looks, Madison with her silence, Dev with his trances and tension, and Ruth—whose admittedly flighty personality had turned downright inconsistent.

  No one would believe Callie if she went to them saying Scott had some kind of power over these people. Then again, no one would believe she was a shifter. Both were true. She knew it in her bones.

  Trey came to mind and she wondered what he’d make of it all. She might have to go to him, but she wanted to present him with something more substantial than two days of observation. She’d already failed before his very eyes, practically getting herself killed and putting him at mortal risk while he’d destroyed that feral cougar. She didn’t want to fail Trey again. Her need to impress him wasn’t entirely healthy, but it was there, and if it pushed her to get some real evidence here, well, that was a good thing.

  You didn’t just call someone up months after they’d fired you and talk as if you’d discovered a control freak. You needed proof when presenting the unbelievable. She’d shifted in front of Trey to demonstrate she was a werecougar, as he had shifted in front of her. This power of Scott’s was more subtle. Unlike that last young cougar, Scott wasn’t a feral shifter tearing people’s bodies to shreds. Yet Callie had begun to suspect he might be just as dangerous. Because, unless she was very much off the mark, Ruth and Dev were barely holding it together.

  Chapter Eight

  After tossing and turning beside a dead-to-the-world Ruth, Callie finally fell asleep, and the next morning woke later than she’d planned. She’d wanted to be up and about before Scott, wanted to overhear everything he said. But he was already downstairs.

  As was Dev, who moved around in the kitchen and, from the sounds of it, prepared breakfast. No surprise there. What was it Ruth had said? Routine was important. Words to live by, evidently. At least in the House of Scott.

  Callie jumped out of bed, pulled on one of Ruth’s shirts and a pair of shorts, and walked quietly down to sit on the bottom stair. Truth was, she felt indignant on Dev’s behalf. Why did he always have to cook? Couldn’t Scott? Or even Ruth?

  “Why don’t you put blueberries in the pancakes?” Scott’s suggestion.

  “Sure.” Dev’s word, uninflected. Callie found she was bracing herself, worried Scott was going to give directives that would harm Dev.

  Madison trotted downstairs past Callie, tiny finger raised to lips. Callie imitated the gesture, and cupped an ear to indicate she was listening in. That earned Callie a small, approving smile—she suspected Madison spent a lot of time listening too—and the child leaned over for a hug that Callie returned before Madison skipped down the hall to the kitchen. Moments later the TV went on. Dev and Madison didn’t seem to talk to each other when Scott was around.

  “What do you think of this Callie?” Scott murmured, not intending to be overheard.

  Pause. “She’s good.” Callie could hear Dev’s tension.

  “Good in what way?”

  A pan banged down on the stove. “Just good.”

  “Dev.” The warning in Scott’s voice made the hairs on the back Callie’s neck rise. Not literally, it was a puma sensation, but it put her on full alert. Puma sensed danger. She crept forward. If necessary, she would intervene. “Dev, you haven’t told her about me, have you?”

  “No.” The sound of vigorous egg beating. “It’s not allowed, so how the fuck could I, Scott?” Vicious, low words.

  “You could if she’s like me and forced you to speak.”

  “Like you?” Panic there now. Callie wanted to reach out and assure Dev she was nothing like Scott. “What do you mean? All you Minders know each other, keep tabs on each other. You’re a pod.”

  Pod? Sounded sinister.

  “In our area, yes. She’s not from here. God knows where she is from. I find her a mystery.” Scott’s tone became confiding. “You see, I’m not entirely sure she’s under my sway. That’s never happened to me before. I usually have good control. Except with another Minder.”

  “No.” Dev’s denial was flat, definite, but the strain in his voice indicated he was trying too hard to convince Scott. He would probably hear that because, despite his flaws, Scott was observant. “That’s not it. She’s not like you.”

  “Why would you say that, Dev?”

  “Because.”

  “I’m waiting to hear your reason.”

  “Because.” Callie heard Dev’s deep breath. “She doesn’t make me sick.”

  Very long pause. “Well, that certainly puts me in my place, doesn’t it? I make you sick, do I?” Now Scott sounded young and a little whiny. It was almost a relief to hear Scott act his age. He didn’t seem invulnerable then. “Even though you’d be dead without me, Dev. Even though I only push you when I absolutely have to.”

  Callie didn’t actually need to be right by the door to hear them now. Scott’s voice was rising with every word.

  “I thought you were my friend, Dev.” The simmering violence alarmed Callie. She’d heard that before, in the voices of Ruth’s ex-boyfriends.

  On cue, Ruth’s feet hit the floor above, then she was running down the hall, down the stairs. Callie pulled back so Scott wouldn’t see her, but that precaution soon proved useless because Ruth called out rather belligerently, “Callie, what are you doing lurking outside the kitchen?”

  Callie just looked at her sister who said, “What? You shouldn’t be eavesdropping. Scott doesn’t like it.” Head high, Ruth strode by Callie into the kitchen. “Do you, Scott?”

  Callie followed Ruth in to find Scott glowering, furious and, she observed, a little afraid of her. Perhaps he thought she would try to control him? Well, if she were one of these “Minders” she sure as hell would. But she was only a rare puma. Ready to tear his fucking throat out.

  Callie glanced over at Dev whose knuckles were white as he gripped the handle of the frying pan. She walked to him. Touched the hand, noted the flinch and said, gently, “Let me have that.”

  “W
hy?”

  “I’m going to cook this morning.”

  “Callie.” Scott was using his command voice. So irritating. She simply hated the way he said her name. Repeatedly. “Leave Dev alone. Come here. To me.”

  Callie cocked her head, fed up but curious about his next move, so she did as ordered. Scott had the presumption to place a hand on her chin and grip too tight. His touch was unpleasant, fingers pressed against her jawbone. Though she tried to suppress her shudder, she didn’t quite succeed.

  “Scott, no.” Dev scraped out the words past his throat, making it sound like he was fighting something within himself. Then he walked over, grabbed Scott’s arm and forced Scott to release Callie.

  Scott gaped at this action, and when he spoke, there was a bravado there that belied his scornful attitude. “What’s the matter, Dev? Did she tell you to protect her?”

  Dev’s gaze slid away from Scott who yelled, “Look at me.”

  Dev jerked his head back, burning eyes wide, full on Scott. Callie had the terrible feeling this made him even more exposed.

  “It’s not what you think,” Callie put in, not entirely sure what Scott was thinking, but she sure as hell wasn’t a Minder.

  Scott didn’t take his focus off Dev. In the background, Callie could hear that Ruth had begun to sob, but all Callie’s instincts told her she had to protect Dev now. Her sister was not at risk at this very moment, and Ruth, Callie could comfort later.

  “You’re mine.” Scott looked deranged, like he was trying to bore holes into Dev who just stiffened and nodded jerkily. Yet Callie had the impression Dev seethed within. “Say it, Dev.”

  “Yours.” A bare mutter that had Dev shaking and Callie recoiled. This could not go on.

  “Not hers. You will never belong to Callie.” Scott spat out her name. “You nod”—Callie was disturbed that Dev was nodding again—“but I need you to prove it.”

  Dev’s fists balled and his heart rate sped way up. She could hear it galloping along.

  “Hit her, Dev.”

  Callie watched, horrified, fascinated, as Dev’s eyes went shiny and dark. His arm rose, fist tight and white knuckled.