by RJ Blain
“Since when did anyone identify species before the first shift, anyway?”
“The process has been in the works for a while. It was prioritized when a lion shifted for the first time in public. It was rather gruesome. Fortunately, no one died, but it hammered home the point that it might be wise to identify predator species before their first shift. That way, when the signs of a shift start, appropriate species can be around to mitigate the damage.” Cleo cleared off the arm chair and flopped onto it. “You’re a solitary predator or omnivore, probably a permanent mating species. Your interactions with Todd, including your lack of intercourse with him despite his mares being in season, tell me herd or pack mentality is against your basic nature.”
I froze, and my eyes widened.
“Mystic,” he reminded me. “I’m good enough I don’t have to touch you to monitor your vitals. You have none of the classic markers of a recently mated female. You were doing something with Todd, but it wasn’t breeding.”
“I’m so glad my sex life is up for discussion.”
“Lack of one, you mean?”
While tempted to throw food at the jackass, I skewered another piece of red meat and chewed on it instead. “Fine. It’s been a few months.”
“What type of men do you select?”
“Non-shifters.”
“Mystics exclusively? Any other types?”
While mystics and shifters were the most common types of humans, there were others around, although most were lumped in with mystics for convenience. “I try to avoid anyone who might be a shifter.”
“Do you want to remain with your partners when you choose them?”
“I’m careful about who I sleep with.”
Cleo nodded, watching my every movement with narrowed eyes. “Let me guess: you pick men you dislike but find physically attractive.”
Busted. “So what?”
“You like Todd, but he’s a shifter—not only is he a shifter, he’s a stallion. He’ll sleep with anyone who spreads her legs and wants to have his foals. He’s driven to expand his herd. Your behavior screams a desire for a dedicated male, but you’re independent enough you probably wouldn’t care too much if he vanished for months at a time, as long as he came home to scratch your itch during your mating season. That could be a result of your upbringing, but I’m going with your current behavior patterns. Keep in mind I could be wrong. I can think of a few predatory species who fit the bill.”
I grabbed the plate, piled it full of meat, and headed for the bed, turning my back to Cleo so I wouldn’t have to watch him while he psychoanalyzed me. “If that’s accurate, you make me sound like a lunatic. Next you’re going to tell me I should get therapy.”
“I have no reason to believe you aren’t emotionally and mentally sound. For a mercenary, that’s quite the accomplishment.”
“Clue me in, then.”
“You’ve picked exclusively red meats. That screams large predator. Not a wolf; while they mate for life, wolves feel safest with a pack. You’re a loner. You refuse to select a guild, you work freelance, and you roam. That tells me you’re a solitary predator species, likely a feline or bear. I am leaning towards feline, as Todd didn’t mention any abnormal sleeping habits. There are other species, including badgers, wolverines, and smaller vicious predators, too, but I’m leaning towards feline.”
I sucked in a breath. “Me? A feline?”
“Not a house cat. You’ve been ignoring the selection of birds rather consistently. You probably enjoy the occasional salad, and when you get around to trying the cheese, you’re going to lose your self control and gorge on it. I’ve never met a feline who doesn’t just love getting themselves sick on cheese.” Cleo smirked, got up, and picked up a bright yellow cube and popped it in his mouth. “You’re able to resist Todd during the height of his mating season. That puts you high up the feline hierarchy list. My bets are on leopard, cheetah, or panther. Cheetahs don’t necessarily mate for life, but some do. Leopards are the same way. Panthers exclusively prefer to mate for life.” The mystic paused. “A species of tiger a possibility, too. Bengals are a bit more flexible in their breeding habits than other tiger species. Indochinese tigers would fit remarkably well. I doubt you’d be a South China tiger. While they’re a bit rarer than the common tiger species, they’re happiest in a colony and actively seek out other South China tigers.”
“You know a lot about tigers.”
“Todd made a point of having me study because of the banquet, so I’m fresh on tiger species. There will be representatives from ten different tiger species present, and it’ll be my job to identify each one and give Todd the details during the festivities.”
“You’re going to the banquet?”
“Todd thought it would be wise. He’s expecting a fight, and if I’m around, it’ll be easier to keep it non-lethal.”
How many predators were going to be packed into the same building? “Fantastic. I didn’t even know there were ten different types of tigers.”
“If the ten tiger species bother you, be aware there’s going to be twelve different lion species in attendance.”
Just how many species of large felines were there? I groaned, shoved a piece of meat in my mouth to shut myself up, and chewed until I could speak without my disgust altering my tone. “Well, it is a union between a tiger and a lion. It does make sense.”
“That’s only the beginning of the list. The felines will be making a very strong showing, and every species is bringing at least one eligible male or female to the banquet. To make things more interesting, the bride is a Siberian. The groom is an Atlas.”
“I am not exactly an expert in lions or tigers, Cleo.”
“Siberians are the largest and rarest of the tiger species, and Atlas are the largest lions. They’re a common species. In short, the largest felines of the cat kingdoms are tying the knot, so every feline clan in North America is going to have a representative at the wedding. The mayor’s a wolf searching for a new mate, so every wolf clan is sending a representative along with women interested in pursuing a relationship with him.”
Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse, the jackass found a way to turn my latest job into my worst nightmare. “You’re fucking kidding me. The place is going to be filled with cats and dogs?”
“Rats, rabbits, an elephant, several horses, an orca, at least two sharks, and I heard rumors about some badgers and a weasel sending in their reservations.”
Reality crashed down on my head, and I understood Todd’s certainty there would be a brawl of palace-crushing proportions taking place at the banquet. Add in the weapon clans and mystics, and the place would be primed to blow. “Lord have mercy on our souls,” I muttered.
Cleo brayed his laughter. “It’ll be fun.”
“You have a twisted idea of what constitutes as fun.”
“I try.”
The only way I’d salvage the job and give myself an advantage was to learn who was going and why. If Todd meant to rely on Cleo for information, I’d have to be a step ahead of Todd. Polite society annoyed me at the best of times, although I’d learned basic etiquette to keep from shaming myself on most jobs. I sighed, and in the sound, I heard my surrender. “Can you get me the guest list?”
“I sure can. Think you can get Todd to show half as much interest?”
“Don’t ask for miracles, Cleo. That way, you won’t be disappointed when they don’t happen.”
Chapter Six
The cheese defeated me. If not for the cheese, I would have been able to walk away from the platter, leaving the jackass mystic to take away the leftovers, but no. I fell to temptation, and once I sank my teeth into the first yellow cube marbled with white, what remained of my self-restraint dribbled right out of my ears and made its escape.
In Florida, no one had cheese; there weren’t enough mystics around to keep refrigerators running, nor was there easy access to electricity. In the state’s heat and humidity, cheese spoiled within days, usually
before traders could ship it in. Before I’d gone to Florida, I’d been wandering, and my diet consisted of whatever was being served at the flop.
In short, anything other than cheese.
Why hadn’t I remembered how sinfully delicious sharp, aged cheddar was? By the time I crammed the last scrap of cheese down my throat, I doubted I’d need to eat anything for at least a week. With a low groan, I flopped onto the bed and went limp. “You tricked me.”
Cleo laughed, got up, and looked over the ruins of the platters he had brought. “I did. The cheese was spiked with catnip.”
I lifted my arm and flipped him my middle finger.
“It’s true. I called in a favor from the caterer supplying the banquet. It’s one of the ways we’re going to try to keep the felines under control. Within five minutes of consuming the first piece of cheese, your biometrics changed, consistent with a feline shifter’s reaction to catnip. That’s also a good indication you are close to your first shift. I’m willing to risk my reputation to claim you’ll be a feline of some sort. If I could judge on volume of food, I’d place you as a Siberian. However, considering your deteriorated state, you could be a house cat—a very picky one when it comes to mating. Then again, that’s a cat for you. While you showed a definite preference for red meats, you ate other meats as well.”
“That could be useful.”
“What? Being a house cat?”
“Sure. Would let me get in and out of places easily. Scope out security details and the premises.” It’d also make getting close to my targets much easier.
If I became a tiny house cat, I’d be a very happy assassin.
“I won’t say it’s impossible, but house cats do tend to mate with anything that moves. If you were a house cat breed, you’d probably still be in Todd’s room doing your best to tire him out. Same if you were a lioness. I can give you the full list of feline species you probably aren’t if you’re curious. Sorry. You don’t mind if I call you Jesse, do you?”
Damn. So much for the hope of easy access to places I didn’t belong. “Don’t mind at all. A list of the species I might be would be better.”
I could start making plans for the future—and learning how my life as a mercenary would change—if I had a better idea of what I might become. Excitement shivered through me despite the food-induced lethargy.
“Easily done. I’ll bring it to you in the morning. Pre-shift evaluations will probably become the norm, especially if us mystics can accomplish a high level of reliability. I’m usually right, but I have been wrong before.” Cleo transferred the leftovers to one plate and stacked the dirty dishes. “I’ll put this in the fridge for you if you’re hungry later. Anyone can direct you to the kitchens. We put our names on everything to keep things organized. If it doesn’t have a name, it’s available for anyone to use.”
“Do you think I’m close to shifting?”
“I can’t tell you that. You’re affected by catnip, which is a good indicator you’re getting close. Your biology has already started adapting for your shift. It could be tomorrow, it could be a year from now. No one has figured out what triggers the first shift yet.” Cleo shrugged, gathered the dishes, and headed for the door. “Breakfast will be ready at eight. I’ll send someone to wake you. I’ll have the guest list and species list ready for you in the morning.”
“Thanks, Cleo.”
“Glad to help. It keeps me from being bored, especially since everyone here is disgustingly fit. With so many of his mares in foal, Todd’s determined to keep me around the house. Thank you for giving me something to do. Sleep well!”
I passed out before Cleo left the room.
Someone brought clothes while I slept, leaving several piles neatly folded on the dresser. It took me a moment to find my bearings, grunting at the pink drapes glowing in the early morning light.
I wondered if Todd would get angry if I took them down and replaced them with something a lot less feminine. There were limits to how much I enjoyed being a woman, and pink drapes crossed my threshold of tolerance. Then again, for five hundred a month, I would deal with them.
When I found out who had shopped for the clothes, I’d have to thank them. Jeans and tight-fitted tops were practical attire suitable for a fight and dominated the selection, although I found the trend towards bright colors a little odd. Several button-up blouses with floral patterns screamed ‘kept woman.’ In addition, there were several skirts and an assortment of dress slacks to go with the blouses, all appropriate for any business requiring well-groomed women.
The thought of being Todd’s property chafed, but in a way, it was true. Until the banquet ended, I counted as Todd’s woman, an arrangement I’d regret by the time the job ended. The room in his house wouldn’t last; the mares wouldn’t tolerate my presence as an interloping female unwilling to join the herd. If Cleo’s estimation I’d shift into a predator—possibly a large, dangerous one—came to pass, unless they accepted me as a herd protector, they’d want me gone.
I enjoyed protecting people more than I did killing them, but more often than not, my hands brought death to someone. Staying with Todd’s herd wouldn’t work out, but I’d enjoy it while I could.
At least I didn’t have to worry about being an eligible bachelorette at the banquet; until my first shift, only wolves would consider me a realistic possibility for a mate. The wolves worried me, but I had ways of keeping them away.
If I could find some, perfume tainted with wolfsbane would send the message I wasn’t interested.
I picked a blue skirt and white blouse, securing my sword belt around my waist. Unlike the Chinese dress, the long skirt would impede my movement if I did have to fight. However, if I had a few moments before combat began, I’d be able to deal with the lightweight material without much difficulty. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but I had no plans to use my sword.
Preparing for the banquet meant spending a lot of time with my nose in books researching the clans attending, rubbing elbows with sophisticates, and otherwise educating myself on what to expect. While there likely would be fighting—and an obnoxious, sex-driven stallion to guard—victory and defeat would be determined by my ability to outwit and outmaneuver other attendees.
I emptied my satchel and went to work repacking my tattoo kit and sheafs of paper to my satisfaction. I needed to pay Todd his rent, which would leave me enough money to take care of the preparations I wanted to make without him knowing about them.
A knock at my door distracted me. Frowning, I said, “Come in.”
Cleo leaned through the doorway. “Good, you’re already up. I was going to send someone to fetch you, but it seems everyone’s still asleep. Your breakfast is ready. The mares won’t be around for another hour or so, so if you want to eat in peace and quiet, now’s your chance. I have the lists you wanted, too.”
“Now’s fine. I have some errands I want to run today.”
“Then you’ll definitely want to make your escape before Todd gets up. If he can’t find you before he has to leave for the guild, then he can’t rope you into errands on his behalf—and he will. It’d be best if I can tell him the nature of your errands, though.”
“Getting a feel for who will be attending the banquet. If I’m on guard duty, I need to know who I’m guarding and who I’m on guard against. Basic job research. He knows me, so he should understand. If I’m going to be able to do my job, I need to get an idea of what clans will be here, their rivalries, and who I might be best to avoid.” I rolled my shoulders, wincing at the stiffness in my muscles. “As good a place as any to start.”
“What time should I tell him you’ll be back?”
I grabbed my things, shoved my satchel’s strap over my shoulder, and followed Cleo out of my room and down the hall. “Probably sometime this evening. I need to give Todd the rent money.”
“You can leave it with me. I’ll give it to him before he leaves for the guild.”
Cleo led me to a small dining room adjacent to the kitchen, le
aving me long enough to fetch a large plate loaded with steak and eggs. “Eat it all. You need the protein. If you’re not coming back to the house, keep your lunch focused on meats. There are plenty of restaurants and delis catering to predators. Make use of one. Try to keep it on the lighter side when you have lunch, or you’ll end up taking a cat nap while you’re out.”
Scowling at the jackass, I went to work on my breakfast, proud of myself for keeping my temper in check. “Small lunch, eat meat. Got it. Anything else I should keep in mind, Dad?”
Cleo brayed his laughter. “How old was I when I helped spawn you?”
“I was maybe two or three when you were born.”
“Damn. When you’re good, you’re good. I should tell Todd I was studding before I was conceived. He’ll love that.”
“If it makes steam roll out of his ears, go for it.”
“I think I’m going to like you quite a lot, Jesse. You must drive Todd absolutely insane. First, you’re a pretty woman who won’t sleep with him—and he’s trying. I haven’t seen him chase a mare so intently in ages.”
“He knows I’m not going to sleep with him, Cleo.”
“That’ll make it even more fun for us to watch. The mares are going to love having you around.”
“Aren’t I supposed to be a potential predator? They’ll hate me.”
“A stallion struggling with sexual frustration produces more foals. If every one of his mares isn’t in foal this year, I will be very surprised. He made a full round yesterday.”
“I did not need to know that.”
“Whatever you were doing with him last night whetted his appetite, that’s for sure. The general consensus? Whatever you were doing, do it again.” Still laughing, Cleo sat beside me and leaned back in his chair. “I’m already scheduled to do checkups on all the mares today, so hopefully we’ll have a few more foals on the way thanks to last night.”