When she realized, she jerked in surprise, but his arms wrapped around her, holding her close. “It’s okay. It’s me.” He kept his voice low, almost a whisper. And she knew it was him. That was the problem.
“What ... what time is it?”
“Late.” He held her tighter, and she realized all the lights were out and it was pitch black outside. Lord, how long had she been asleep? “Do you hear it?”
“Hear what?”
But she did hear it now. Sissy heard that persistent, demanding howl through the darkness.
“Sissy ...”
“It’s okay, Mitch.”
Resting her hands against his chest, she pushed until she sat up. The central air conditioning had kicked on, and the loss of Mitch’s body heat made her feel like she was freezing.
“What is it?”
“Family stuff.”
“Your brothers?”
She wished. They were easy. Easy and stupid and she had no problem handling them, even when they made her angry.
“No. Not my brothers. I’ve gotta go.” She stood, but Mitch grabbed her hand. “I can go with you.”
How could she not have realized it before? He was so sweet. Really. Just ... sweet. She’d never known anyone sweet before. Although in her family, sweet translated to wuss.
“I’ll be fine.” And if he came along, he wouldn’t be. There were some parts of this town that cats could never go to. Not if they liked breathing.
“I won’t be long.”
“Okay.” He smiled. “I’ll be here when you get back ... hungry.”
Her arms dropped. “Again?” She’d fed him earlier ... food that should have lasted days was quickly disappearing in a night.
“Yes. Again. So don’t be long, okay?”
The concern he showed made her feel kind of warm inside—or she was getting a rash. She got those when she came home to visit.
“Okay. I’ll even try and bring home something bloody.” She handed him the .45 she’d taken from him earlier.
“If it’s still moving and bloody, that would be great.”
Sissy left the house and headed into the woods surrounding her parents’ territory. She shifted as she walked, shaking off her clothes before breaking into a run.
She never thought she’d think this, but she missed her parents. She didn’t realize how much family crap they protected her from merely by their presence.
Sissy ran on. She felt safe in her parents’ territory, even though if she went too far west, she’d cross from Smithtown into Barronville. Cat territory run by the vicious backwoods Barron Pride that even Sissy avoided unless she had her She-wolves with her. If she went too far south, she’d cross into bear territory. They were much more welcoming than the cats, but Sissy had a reputation there that didn’t exactly make her a welcome canine in their town.
But go too far north, and she crossed into territory that few ever ventured into. Not the Pride, not the bears, not the wolves. And a good deal of the Smiths didn’t go there either. No one. And with very good reason.
Sissy knew the moment she crossed into that territory, too. She felt it in her bones. In her soul. The power of it infused the ground beneath her feet. A place of power. A power that was neither good nor evil. Instead, it was how that power was wielded that was the problem.
They waited for her about a mile in. Sissy stopped ten feet from them. She didn’t shift until the first one did.
“Gertie,” she said after she’d shifted.
“Sissy Mae.”
The three other females shifted, but none of them came near her.
“So, what do you want?”
Gertie shrugged. “Just wanted to see you. Thought you’d like to come up for some sweet tea.” She gestured behind her. “She’d love to see you.”
“Forget it. I ain’t goin’ up there.”
“Sissy, you know she wouldn’t harm you.” Harming her wasn’t what had Sissy worried.
Everyone called her Grandma Smith, but the most she was to Sissy was a great-great aunt. No one knew for sure, but they said she was a teen during the Civil War. She didn’t choose sides since she considered all of that “full-human business,” but Lord forbid some soldier from either side strayed on Smith territory.
Even Sissy’s daddy feared her, and the man didn’t fear many. As old as the hills and as mean as a snake, Grandma Smith was a powerful witch and shifter who led by fear. She didn’t like males much, and she took Smith females with power from their mommas and raised them herself. And to hear Sissy’s aunts tell it, Grandma Smith had wanted Sissy and had come down from her precious hill to get her. It was Janie Mae who backed her off. And in that one move, ensured her place as Alpha Female and the eternal enemy of one cranky old bitch who lived up on the hill.
“Look, I’m just here for a few days. Then I’m gone again.”
“We know what your momma’s told you about us, but she doesn’t know anything. You’re a Smith female of the bloodline. One of us. We’ll always have a place for you here ... among us.”
Sissy forced her body not to move. Not to run. Even as they moved closer, she didn’t back down. She kept her voice calm. “I’ll never belong here. You know it. She knows it.”
“That’s your momma talkin’, Sissy Mae. You know better. You know where you belong.”
“I know I’m done with this conversation.”
“That whore has turned you—”
Sissy didn’t even know she’d do it until her claw slashed across Gertie’s cheek. Blood sprayed across a tree trunk, and the others snarled, fangs extended.
“Call my momma that again, Gertie, and that’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Then Gertie was there, her forehead resting against Sissy’s, her fangs bared. “Remember who you are, little girl. Remember who you come from.”
Keeping her fangs in and sheathing her claws, Sissy said flatly, “Get off me.”
She could see Gertie deciding what she wanted to do, but a low howl from higher up on the hill had the four females looking nervously over their shoulders.
Gertie stepped back. She stared at Sissy. “We’ll talk again.”
They walked away from her, but they never turned their backs on her. At least not until they were out of her sight.
Mitch had worked his way through most of the cereal Miss Janie had in her cupboards before he realized that Sissy had made it home.
He found her sitting on the porch swing, her legs tucked up under her, her eyes focused out into the dark.
Sitting down next to her, he got the swing to rocking gently. He’d never been on a porch swing before. He liked it.
“You all right?”
“Yeah.”
“Sissy ...” Mitch blew out a breath. “I’m much stronger now, and I’m going to leave tomorrow.”
“It’s not about you, Mitch.” She looked at him. “Me sitting here, thinking. This isn’t about you. But you do need to promise me one thing.”
“Anything.”
“Don’t go up that hill.” She pointed to the freaky hill with the scary woods surrounding it that she had run into earlier. “Don’t ever go up there. And if anything calls to you, like a dead uncle, or if you think you see a pet dog you once loved when you were ten, ya know ... ignore it.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sissy had nothing to worry about. Some places a man instinctively knew not to go. That hill was one of those places.
Mitch scratched his chin. “So can we get back to me now?”
Sissy smiled, looking relieved he hadn’t asked more questions. “Yes, we can get back to you now.”
“Me being here is not helping you with your family, is it?”
“Other than your frightening appetite ... you’re the least of my problems when I come home.”
“Then what is it?”
When she only shrugged, Mitch patted her thigh. “I’m a very good listener.” When Sissy only stared at him, he added, “I have very soulful eyes. Women love that shit.�
��
“It’s nothing really,” she finally told him. “It’s just disappointing when you realize that nothing has or will ever change. Just like my grandpa used to say ... same shit, different day.”
“You can’t let your family get to you.”
“Easy to say. Your family adores you.” And she rolled her eyes at that.
Mitch scratched his head. “Who are you talking about?”
“You. Your mother adores you. Brendon brags about you all the time. And your sisters haven’t tried to kill you once.”
“Hold it.” Mitch held both forefingers up and rolled them back. “Let’s rewind. Who brags about me all the time?”
“Brendon.” Sissy turned on the swing to face him. “You do know he brags about you all the time, don’t you?”
All Mitch could do was shake his head. His brother? Bragging? About him?
“How could you not know?”
“What does he say?”
Now fully annoyed at Mitch, she began checking things off on her fingers. “That you were a football star at your high school. That you graduated high school and college with honors. That you’ve been awarded citations or whatever in your little police department.” Only Sissy would dismiss the entire Philadelphia Police Department as that “little police department.” Christ, he liked her.
“How proud he is of you. And how you’re his brother. Blah-blah-blah. His chest puffs out when he’s talking about you, and he’s already a large man.”
“Wow.”
“You really didn’t know?”
“Nope.” Resting his chin against his fist, his elbow on the back of the swing, he asked, “And Marissa?”
“Let’s not ask for the unobtainable, hoss.”
“Good point.”
“So while your siblings are running around bragging about you and sobbing over your lifeless body, I’m stuck with my crew.”
“Is it that bad?”
“One time I told Travis I was thinking of applying for a receptionist position at a law office, and he said, ‘Don’t they usually hire pretty girls for that?’”
Mitch gritted his teeth. He hadn’t even met Travis yet, but he already hated the man.
“Luckily, I already know how amazing I am, otherwise I would have been devastated.”
“And he’s just jealous.”
“Jealous? Of what?”
“He’s jealous of you.”
“Is that right?”
“Of course! Because no matter what he does, when he puts on your shorts and one of your bras, he never looks as cute in them as you do.”
And keeping her laughing for the next hour made Mitch feel amazing.
Chapter 6
Sissy woke up about one in the afternoon ... alone.
They’d gone from the porch to the family room and spent a good portion of the night watching late-night television and laughing. The last thing Sissy remembered was resting her head on Mitch’s shoulder while they discussed the benefits of doing an infomercial for Mace and Bobby Ray’s security business and how disgusted both former Navy SEALs would be if they even tried to suggest it—which meant they would.
And now she woke up on the same couch but with no Mitch. Maybe he’d gone back to bed. She hoped so. The man needed sleep. Real sleep, not simply unconsciousness from blood loss.
Sitting up, she rubbed her face and stretched until she heard all sorts of pops and snap noises that did nothing but make her worry about her general bone health. Then her stomach grumbled, and everything else took a backseat. Throwing off the blanket she had on her legs, she stumbled into the kitchen. She pulled open the refrigerator, determined to get to the food before Mitch had a chance to clean her out, and froze. There was nothing left but a carton of rancid Chinese food her parents had left behind. She went to the overhead cabinets and checked there, but all the cereal and Pop-Tarts that her parents kept for their grandkids were gone as well.
Selfish feline!
Annoyed beyond reason, Sissy stomped upstairs, hoping to wake his big cat ass up with the noise. She took a quick shower and went to her room to get clothes. Once she’d pulled on a pair of denim shorts, bra, and T-shirt, she stomped down to Bobby Ray’s room and threw the door open. But the bed was empty.
Sissy turned back toward the hallway. “Mitch?”
No answer, so she ran down the hallway and stairs, calling out for him.
As she slid into the kitchen, she noticed for the first time the folded notebook paper on the table.
Starving. Went into town for food. We need supplies, woman! You’re not caring for me properly.
Then an annoying smiley face.
Her eye twitched.
Went into town? By himself ? What is wrong with that man?
Sissy charged outside, running full speed toward town, her rental car completely forgotten since she walked most places when she visited anyway.
It had never occurred to her that he might wander off on his own, but she should have remembered that he’d never go hunting if he could help it. Male lions were scavengers at heart. Used to being taken care of by the females in their life. Since Mitch didn’t have his own Pride to feed him, he spent most of his time in restaurants or getting his food delivered.
Sissy cut through the woods far opposite from the part of the woods she’d traipsed into last night.
She cut through several of her relatives’ backyards, waving to the ones who yelled out greetings while she ignored the small deer that leaped into her path. Her stomach growled, but she kept going until she hit the main road that led into town. Of course, that’s when she slammed right into the side door of a bright red ’78 Camaro, the impact tossing her back into the woods.
Times like this, she was grateful to be a shifter.
She heard tires squeal when the person driving hit the brakes. A few seconds later, a door opened, and a gruff female voice called out, “Hello?” Then Sissy heard sniffing as the She-wolf tried to track her.
“I’m over here,” Sissy responded while pushing herself up until she was on her hands and knees.
Footsteps moved closer, and then she heard, “Hey. Sorry. Are you ... wait. Sissy Mae?”
Sissy lifted her head, and her gaze traveled up a long, powerful body wearing worn jeans, a worn T-shirt, and not much else. But when Sissy saw that face, she grinned. “Holy shit. Dee-Ann?”
“Figures,” Dee-Ann sighed. “I’ve killed my own damn cousin. Momma’s gonna have a fit.”
Laughing, Sissy grasped Dee’s hand and let her first cousin drag her to her feet. Dee-Ann was her cousin twice over. Her mother, Darla, was Janie Mae’s sister, and her father, the infamous Uncle Eggie, was the older brother of Bubba Smith. She was three years older than Sissy, but they’d had some very good times back in the day.
“Well, don’t get any ideas. You are not in my will.”
“Damn. I had it all planned out, too.”
The pair hugged, and Sissy let out a relieved breath. “Dee, I didn’t know you were home.”
“Only been back a couple of days. I’m out for good now, Sissy,” she finished on a murmur.
Sissy tamped down her desire to grill her cousin on how she felt and instead said, “Well, darlin’, you missed the wedding of the century.”
“So I heard. I am real sorry I missed it.”
“Don’t worry. Bobby Ray understands.”
Together they walked back to the main road, and Sissy glared at the still running Camaro. “And you have the nerve to be tooling around town in my car.”
“Oh, no, no, no.” Dee shook her head. “Don’t even try it. I won this car fair and square. Besides, I look much better in it than you ever did.”
“I still say that race wasn’t fair.”
“Ignoring you,” Dee stated flatly. Of course, she stated most things flatly.
Sissy laughed, giving her cousin another hug. “Take me into town, bitch,” she said as she walked around to the passenger side.
“All right. But you owe me
from where your big, fat head dented my driver’s side door.”
“Maybe if you weren’t speeding.”
Hands slapping against the roof of the car, Dee stared at her. “You didn’t say that. Those words didn’t come out of your mouth.”
Sissy gave her most innocent expression. “Why, cousin, I don’t know what you mean.”
The waitress placed another hamburger with fries in front of him and stepped back.
“Anything else?”
His mouth filled with food, Mitch held up his empty glass.
“More milk,” she said. “Got it.” Grabbing several empty plates, the waitress let out a little sigh and gave a small shake of her head before she walked away.
Why everyone was staring at him, Mitch didn’t know. He was hungry, dammit; that didn’t make him a freak.
As he dove into his seventh Smithtown Diner’s Mighty Burger, the rumbling sound of a modified muffler caught his attention, and the sweetest cherry-red Camaro tore past the big front window of the restaurant. Tires squealed, and the car returned, practically diving into the empty space right in front.
He really shouldn’t have been surprised when Sissy laughingly stumbled out of the passenger side, nor when the waitress placed his milk-filled glass down and said, “Oh, Lord. Here comes trouble.”
“There you are!” Sissy said as she walked into the diner, another woman right behind her.
Mitch had to admit he liked how Sissy walked into a room. Every male became instantly aware of her. But Sissy either never noticed or she went out of her way to never notice. Mitch didn’t know, but he enjoyed how oblivious she seemed, annoying every male in a thirty-foot radius.
She pulled out a chair and dropped into it. “Next time when you leave the house, why don’t you just wear a big bull’s eye on your chest?”
“What does that mean?” he asked around his burger.
“I’m trying to protect your dumb ass, and you go wandering off.”
“You weren’t fulfilling my needs,” he said simply. “And I have big, demanding needs.”
“You’re a glutton,” she snapped and took a fry off his plate. He snarled at her, but she only snorted. “And stingy.”
The Mane Attraction Page 10