by Nalini Singh
Zach’s expression changed and, for the first time, she saw the ruthless soldier in him. “What kind of men?”
“Academics.” She shrugged. “Mom and Dad are both professors at Berkeley—math and physics respectively.”
“Are academics your type?”
“No.”
He glanced at her again, and those eyes had gone leopard on her. “Are you sure?”
“Quite.” She found herself refusing to be intimidated by the sense of incipient danger in the air. If she gave an inch, Zach would take a mile. And while she might not be a dominant female, it was important that he respect her. She frowned. Of course it was important, but that thought, it had been so vivid, so strong, so visceral—as if her mind knew something it wasn’t yet ready to share.
Then Zach spoke again, breaking her train of thought. “So you’ll be skipping the dinner.” It was an order plain and simple.
Annie opened her mouth. What came out was, “No, I’ll take you.”
Chapter 5
ZACH’S GRIN WAS openly pleased. “What’s the blind date going to say?”
She couldn’t believe she’d just done that, ordered him to do something. More, she couldn’t believe he’d agreed. “Probably, ‘Thank God.’”
“Huh?”
“My cousin Caroline works at the university, too. The men come in expecting a statuesque, intellectual, blond beauty and get me.”
“So?”
She scowled, wondering if he was teasing her again. “So, I’m about as opposite Caro as you can get.”
“If they ignored you, that’s their loss. Too damn bad for them.” He shrugged. “Do you want to put on some music?”
She blinked at the way he’d swept aside the disappointments of the past with that simple statement. If she hadn’t already liked him, that would’ve done it. “No, I need to tell you something about my mom.” She swallowed, realizing she’d made a mess of things. If she hadn’t mentioned the dinner, she could’ve avoided this altogether.
Zach groaned. “Don’t tell me, she’s a vegetarian?” he said, as if that was the worst thing possible.
She supposed for a leopard changeling, it was. “No.” For once, he couldn’t make her smile despite herself. “My mum is a little”—she tried to find an easy way to say this and failed—“biased against changelings.”
“Ah. Let me guess—she thinks we’re only one step up from animals?”
She felt very, very awkward discussing this, but she had to warn him about what he might face if he went to dinner with her. “It’s not so blunt. She has no problem with other humans, and she admires the Psy, but she’s never wanted me dating, or getting friendly with”—she raised her fingers in quotation marks—“‘the rough changeling element.’”
“What about you?” A deceptively soft question.
“That’s an insult, Zach,” she said as softly. “If that’s what you really think of me—”
He swore. “Sorry, Annie, you’re right, I’m being an ass. My only excuse is that you hit a hot button.”
“I know.” She couldn’t blame him for his reaction. “It makes me really uncomfortable, but I’ve tried to change her mind, and it’s never worked.”
“What does she think of you teaching in a school with such a big changeling population?”
“That it’s my version of acting out.” She laughed at his expression, awkwardness dissipating. “No, she doesn’t seem to realize I’m a grown-up, as the kids would say.”
“Why do you let her get away with it?”
She was beginning to expect the straight-up questions from him. “My mom was on that train with me. She tried and tried and tried to get me out even though I was pinned under so much wreckage, she didn’t have a hope of shifting anything.” Her throat choked with the force of memory. “Her arm was broken at the time, but she didn’t cry a single tear. She just kept trying to get me out.”
Zach reached out to run his knuckles over her cheek. “She loves you.”
She found comfort in the touch, and when he returned his hand to the steering wheel, she realized he’d somehow given her strength. “Yes. That’s why I let her get away with so much.” She leaned her head against the seat. “This thing she has for the Psy, the way she almost deifies them, it has its roots in the accident, too.”
“How?”
“There was this boy—I don’t know where he came from, but he was small, my age or younger. Cardinal eyes.” She shivered at the memory of the chill in those extraordinary white-stars-on-black-velvet eyes. Psy lived lives devoid of emotion, but she’d never seen a child that utterly cold. “He lifted the wreckage off me.”
“Telekinetic.” Zach whistled. “You got lucky.”
“Yeah.” The Council didn’t release its telekinetics for mundane rescue work—especially not when an incident affected mainly humans and changelings. “The medics told me he’d saved my life. My internal organs were close to collapse—a few more minutes, and I wouldn’t have made it.”
“Did you ever find out who he was?”
She shook her head. “He disappeared in the chaos. I’ve always thought that he teleported in from another location, after somehow seeing me in the live coverage. I remember there was a remote media chopper flying overhead, and if he was strong enough to lift the amount of wreckage that he did, he was strong enough to teleport.” She couldn’t imagine the strength of will it took to harness that much power. “He can’t have been on the train—his clothes were spotless, and he didn’t have so much as a smudge on his face.”
“Psy aren’t born lacking emotions,” Zach told her, “they’re conditioned to it. So it could be that he was still human enough to feel the need to help when he saw what had happened.”
“How do you know about the conditioning?” She answered her own question a second later. “Your alpha’s mated to a cardinal Psy.” The news of that mating had sent shockwaves throughout the country.
“Sascha,” he said, nodding. “Vaughn, one of the sentinels, is also mated to a Psy.”
She couldn’t imagine a member of the cold Psy race embracing emotion. But changeling leopards mated for life, and the bond between mates was a dazzling beacon apparent even to a human observer. If these women had mated with DarkRiver cats, they were undoubtedly as radiant and as strong as the other women she’d seen. “Will I meet them today?”
“I know Luc and Sascha are coming. Likely Faith and Vaughn will, too.” He turned down a quiet road lined with trees. “I’ll try to get you back by six so you can get ready for dinner, but we might cut it fine.”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I should cancel. I really don’t want my mom to…I would hate for you to feel that—”
“Hey,” he said, shooting her a glance that spoke of the soldier within, “I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Promise.”
Promises are for keeping.
Deciding to trust him, she dug out her phone from the pocket of her jeans. “I’ll tell Mom I’m bringing someone and that we’ll be late.”
“Yeah. It’ll give your date time to find another partner.” That lethal edge was back in his voice.
Her stomach muscles tightened. “Zach?”
“Might as well get this out in the open.” He pulled the car into a small layby and turned to brace his hand against the top edge of her seat. “I’m not real good at sharing.”
She swallowed. “Oh.”
Zach could’ve kicked himself. He’d gone to all this trouble to lull her into a relaxed mood, then the cat had struck out in a burst of primitive jealousy. “Scared?”
Wary caution crept into her eyes, but she shook her head. “You said you wouldn’t bite unless I asked…very nicely.”
Surprise had the cat freezing. He’d forgotten that beneath the blushes and big brown eyes was a woman quite capable of calling him on his behavior. “That’s true,” he drawled, letting the cat out to play. “Come closer and ask me.”
She shook her head again.
“Ple
ase.”
Her cheeks colored, but he knew the heat wasn’t because of embarrassment. Her arousal was a decadent whisper in the confines of the car, a drug his cat could lap at for hours. But what he really wanted to do was lap at her. He moved a little closer.
She held up the phone. “I need to make this call.” Her voice was breathless, her tone jagged.
Instinct urged him to keep pushing, but he didn’t want to make her feel cornered. No, he thought, shifting back into his seat, he’d do his teasing out in the open arms of the forest. “Go on, sweetheart.” He smiled. “I’ve got all day to play with you.”
She sucked in a breath. “Is that what this is? Play?”
“Sure.” He drove them back onto the road, knowing she was talking about more than his teasing promise—pretty, sexy Annie Kildaire thought they were heading for a quick, hot fling. He grinned inwardly. Poor baby was going to get one hell of a surprise when he told her the truth, but she wasn’t ready for that yet. “The best kind of play.”
She was silent for a few minutes, then he heard her coding in the call. With her being so close, he could hear both sides of the conversation. Most humans who lived with changelings tended to get earpieces, so they could have private conversations. He’d have to get Annie one, he thought absently.
“Mom, it’s Annie. About tonight,” she began.
“Don’t you dare cancel, Angelica Kildaire.”
Angelica?
“I’m not,” Annie said, obviously attempting to keep her temper in the face of the sharp response. “I’ll be late, and—”
“We’re doing this for you,” her mother interrupted. “The least you can do is turn up on time.”
Annie pressed her fingers to her forehead and seemed to mentally count to five. “I’m bringing a guest,” she said without any lead-in. “His name is Zach.”
Complete silence from the other end. Then, “Well good grief, Annie. Now you tell me. I’ll have to find another woman to balance out the table. Who is he?”
“A DarkRiver soldier.”
The silence was longer and deeper this time. Zach could feel Annie’s distress at the reaction, but he was proud of her for sticking to her guns.
“Mom?”
“Aren’t you a little too old for childish games?” her mother asked. “I know some women find those rough types attractive, but you have a brain. How long do you think he’ll be able to keep that engaged?”
Zach’s cat smiled in feral amusement. He was used to the preconceptions some humans, and most Psy, had about changelings. The majority of the time, it rolled off his back. But this time, it mattered. Because this was Annie’s mother.
“I am not having this discussion with you,” Annie said, tone final. “We’ll be there for dinner. If you’d rather we didn’t come, just say so.”
“No, bring him,” was the immediate response. “I want to meet this Zach who’s got you ordering your own mother around.” She hung up.
Annie stared at the phone for several seconds before thrusting it back into her pocket. “How much did you hear?”
“All of it.”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry—”
“Annie, sweetheart, leave your mom to me.” He shot her a grin brimming with deliberate wickedness. “Today, I want to lead you astray.”
Her returning smile was a little shy but full of a quiet mischief he figured most people never saw. “Are you sure I’m not already beyond redemption?”
He chuckled. “How could you be with a name like Angelica?”
She made a face. “I’m an Annie, not an Angelica.”
“I prefer Angel.”
“Do you like your women angelic?”
He chuckled. “No, baby, I like my woman exactly as she is.” He knew he’d surprised her, waited to see what she’d do.
“So, this thing…you want more than just a day?”
He wasn’t going to lie to her. “Are you going to run if I say yes?” He pulled into the forest proper, taking a narrow track that would lead them to one of the smaller waterfalls. It was only a trickle right now because of the cold, but it was still a sight to be seen.
“I’m here today, aren’t I?” A question with a slight acerbic bite.
Tasting the piquancy of it on his tongue, he decided he liked it. “All alone with a big, bad cat who’s rethinking his policy on biting.”
Arousal colored the air again, and he sucked in a breath to contain his most primal instincts. “Look ahead,” he said, voice husky.
“Oh!” Her eyes went huge. “It’s a buck,” she whispered, as if afraid the animal would hear her. “His antlers are huge.”
Zach slowed the vehicle to a crawl, but the buck caught his scent and shot off into the trees. “Sorry. They tend to scatter the instant they smell leopard. It’s why I look after the predators—it’s hard for me to check data on the nonpredatories.”
“They know they’re prey.” She looked at him. “Do you hunt them?”
“When the cat needs it, yes.” He glanced at her. “Can you handle knowing that?”
“I teach a lot of little cats,” she reminded him in a prim, schoolteacher voice. “I might not be an expert on changeling behavior, but I’ve picked up enough to know that when in animal form, you behave according to the needs of the animal.”
He couldn’t help himself. He turned and snapped his teeth at her, making her jump. When he began to chuckle, her eyes narrowed. “You’re as bad as Bryan. He does that to Katie all the time.”
“Odds on, he has a crush on her.”
Her lips twitched. “That’s what I think, too. Was the fight about Katie?”
“Sneaky, Ms. Kildaire, but I’m sworn to secrecy.” Laughing at the face she made, he reached over to tug at her ponytail. “You up to a small hike?”
Shadows swept across her face. “You don’t think I can do it?”
He parked the vehicle off to the side of the track and turned. “I don’t know your limits yet,” he told her honestly. “That’s why I’m asking.”
She colored. “Sorry. I’m a bit touchy on the whole subject.”
He shrugged. “If I think you can’t do something, I’ll make sure you’re not doing it.” Protecting the vulnerable was instinct. Protecting Annie would probably become an obsession.
“You’ll make sure I’m not doing it?” The arch sound of a human female metaphorically flexing her claws.
“Definitely.” He held her gaze. “I’m flexible, little cat, but I’m not a pushover.”
Her arousal spiked at his words, but so did her anger. “As if I ever believed that.”
“Annie, you’re used to academic types who probably let you walk all over them.”
“Hold on,” she began, eyes snapping with temper.
God, she was pretty. He reached forward while she was distracted, gripped her chin. And kissed her.
Chapter 6
SHE WAS SOFTER than he’d imagined, more luscious than anything he’d ever experienced. Cat and man both purred inwardly, and when her lips parted on a gasp, he swept inside to taste her. Sweet and tart, innocent and woman, she was his own personal brand of intoxication.
He bit her lower lip, sucked on it, let her gasp in another breath before kissing her again. “Mmm.” It was a sound of sheer pleasure as he indulged his need to touch this woman. Leopard changelings were tactile as a rule—something that translated into sensual affection in a relationship. It didn’t always have to lead to sex. Sometimes it was just about the pleasure of skin-to-skin contact.
When he drew back, her lips were a little swollen, her pupils dilated. He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip and tried to temper his escalating need. She wasn’t ready, not yet. As he’d learned this morning, her soft exterior hid a fierce core of independence—the instant she learned what he really wanted, she’d stop playing with him.
And that was simply not acceptable. “You know how to kiss a man, Angel.” He dropped his gaze to the rise and fall of her generous breasts. The tempta
tion to caress them was so wrenching, he took his hand off her chin and thrust it through his hair. “About that hike…?”
She gave a jerky nod. “I can walk.”
“Tell me if it hurts.”
“It won’t.”
Frowning, he grabbed her chin again and this time, he wasn’t playing. “I mean it, Annie. I need to be able to trust you. I’m giving you that. You give me honesty. That’s fair.”
Her expression shifted again, a true smile curving over her lips. “I will, I promise. It’ll probably ache some, but that’s normal. If it gets any worse, I’ll tell you.”
He wanted to kiss her again but knew full well that if he didn’t get them out of the car quick smart, he’d end up taking her right here—like some randy juvenile in his parents’ car. “Let’s go.” Grabbing her little pack, he thrust his own bottle of water inside and opened the door.
She met him a few feet from the vehicle, her fluffy yellow jacket a dash of pure summer. “I know,” she said, when his eyes landed on her, “I look like a baby duck.”
Not bothering with a coat himself, he took her hand. “No. I like it.” Her hand was small but not weak in his. “It suits you.” Pretty and bright and sunny, that was his Annie.
They walked in silence for a while, and he felt his beast sigh in pleasure. The forest was home, and it called to both parts of his soul. But today, he had a new reason for happiness—Annie. “You’re in shape,” he said after a while.
“Nowhere close to you.” She made a rueful face. “I know you’re keeping your stride shorter for me.”
He hadn’t even noticed, the act had been so natural. “Of course,” he said matter-of-factly. “How would I have my wicked way with you if I left you in my dust?”
Her smile was startled, but it grew until the leopard batted at its warmth, utterly captivated. “I exercise,” she said. “I have to, or the leg will freeze up.”