by Aliya DalRae
“Talk to me, Kitty. Tell me, who’s marked you.”
Her mind whisked back to that bizarre few days she’d spent in the company of Felino Stivali, and the one passionate night she’d shared with that tall, dark stranger. The encounter had left her feeling empowered, but it also left her with a scar on her shoulder that wouldn’t fade.
She never saw Stivali again, and she often wondered why he had done that to her, marked her in a way that only mated Shifters would do. He didn’t stick around long enough for her to ask, though. When he never returned, she figured it was because he was a gigolo, a Tom cat who collected mating marks like Pokémon cards. Course that didn’t help her in this situation.
She always knew that someday she would have to explain it. Some guy would come along, someone who could heal the tattered shreds of her heart left behind by Malcolm, both in life and death, and this guy would want to know. She never dreamed it would be a Vampire, or that it would be so hard to put into words.
“Kitty?”
Kythryn pulled herself from beneath him and set her back against the headboard. She grabbed the edge of the duvet to cover herself, suddenly feeling more exposed than she had at any time while they were making love.
“Kitty.”
“Why do you insist on calling me ‘Kitty’? You know I hate that.” She was stalling, and he knew it as well as she did.
“Kitty.”
Kythryn blew out a breath, still unable to look her most recent lover in the eye. “Did you ever do something crazy? Something so out of this world that you knew if you ever tried to tell anybody about it, they would think you were lyin’?”
“No.”
“Course you haven’t,” she muttered, but she’d started and she would see it through. She owed him that much. “Well I have, and this scar was the result.”
“Did ye love him?”
Was he nuts?
“The Shifter you allowed to mark you. That’s not something done on a drunken one-er.”
He had no idea how close he was to the truth, but still. “No,” she said, finally forcing herself to meet his eyes. This was one point she needed to make perfectly clear. “I didn’t love him, Harrier. In fact, it was just the one time.”
“Who was he?”
“Do you really need to know that?”
Harrier had followed her up the length of the bed and now sat beside her, his hands folded in his lap. The blanket covering her served as a barrier between them that left her shivering despite its warmth.
“I do.” He whispered the words but with an intensity that sent icy shivers down her spine.
“It was Stivali.”
“Fucking mercenary.” Harrier growled, low in his throat, but it was a rumble that vibrated through Kythryn.
“And if you want to know the why of it, you’d have to ask him,” Kythryn rushed on, hoping to put the conversation to rest. “Although, I doubt you’d ever find him.”
“I don’t want to find him, Kitty. I want assurances he’ll not be coming back and claiming you as his own.”
“He…” Kythryn couldn’t really speak for Stivali. “It wouldn’t matter if he did,” she said instead. “It was a long time ago, and besides,” she nudged Harrier with her shoulder. “I’ve moved on.”
Waaaay on.
She glanced up and was surprised to see that gold light swirling in Harrier’s eyes again.
The Vampire was on top of her in a heartbeat, those glowing eyes staring right into her own as he pressed his forehead against hers. “That’s good to know,” he said. “I wasn’t looking forward to killing the man.”
Chapter Fifty-One
H arrier erased the shock of finding mating scars on his female by taking her again. This time there would be no doubt. The first time he marked her may have been an accident, but this time he was clear about what he was doing. She was his—his—and there would be no sharing. If this Stivali character ever dared to show his face in Fallen Cross again, it would be to meet his end. Any claim the mercenary had on Kitty he’d forfeited the moment he left town.
When he was certain that Kitty was one hundred percent aware who she belonged to, he pulled her into his arms and they slept. He woke to a sharp stinging in his chest, only to find that Kitty had wrapped her legs around him and sunk her tiny kitten fangs into his skin as she rubbed herself against his thigh.
“In case there was any question,” she purred after withdrawing her fangs and lapping at the wounds on his pec. She then straddled him, guided him inside her and rode him until they were both well and truly spent.
The next time he woke was to the sound of his phone chiming. Harrier unwrapped himself from his little cat and went in search of his cell. He found it in the living room, buried in a pile of discarded clothing. The evidence of their mating tugged at his heart as he fumbled with his passcode to pull up the most recent text.
Mason.
Harrier glanced at the time. It was after nine already. He’d gotten so wrapped up in the Shifter in his bed he’d nearly forgotten they had a meeting, like, now.
Not wanting to disturb Kitty, Harrier dressed quickly and headed out. At the door, he hesitated then returned to the kitchen. There he dug through a drawer where he found paper and a pen. The message was brief and he hung it on the refrigerator door with a Perky’s Pizza magnet.
*****
K ythryn woke to an empty bed and a horrible case of cotton mouth.
“Harrier?” she called, but there was no response.
She crawled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. Every muscle in her body gave out a little cry, reminding her that she’d used body parts that had been sadly neglected for entirely too long. The ache in her thighs made her grin.
She flipped on the lights and squinted in the bright LED glare as she found her way to the sink. Her reflection stared back at her from a mirror that spanned the entire wall behind the marble counter. Kythryn leaned in and pulled her bottom lid down to see if her eyes were as bloodshot as they felt. Satisfied that they were presentable she searched the counter, finding what she wanted most in the corner.
She grabbed Harrier’s toothbrush, found the paste in a drawer and took care of the horrible case of morning breath she had going on. She’d hated waking up without the Vampire in her arms, but she’d chalk that up to serendipity. With her breath now minty fresh, she went in search of the guy who had her heart beating out of her chest at the mere thought of him.
She wandered into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and stopped at the hand-scrawled note stuck to the refrigerator door.
You’re Mine!
Kythryn beamed. Yes, she thought as she opened the fridge. She most definitely was.
By the time Harrier returned, she’d had a long soak in the swimming pool posing as a bath tub and filled her empty belly with jelly toast and OJ. She was flipping through the channels on his fifty-inch Toshiba when he walked in the door.
The smile that sprang to her lips at the sight of him faded as she got a look at her male. His hair was a mess, and not from their earlier love-making. More like he’d had his hands through it, a lot, and the sharp V in his brow was cause for concern.
His eyes softened as they lit on her. She’d ignored the bags containing her things from the cabin that someone had dropped off and opted for one of Harrier’s ginormous t-shirts to cover things up until he got back. She had every intention of picking up where they’d left off, but something told her that they’d have to put those activities on hold.
“That’s my favorite shirt,” he said, dragging his hand through his hair, confirming her assumption.
“I could take it off,” she offered.
Harrier sighed. “As much as I would love to have you naked in my arms, I’m afraid it’s going to have to wait. We’re raiding the fur farm. Tonight.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
“I ’m going with you.”
Harrier scrubbed the heels of his palms against his eyes. “As I’ve said a dozen times alread
y, it’s Legion personnel only.”
However, his female wasn’t listening. She stood before him, all five-foot-nothing of that taut little body up in his face, ready to take him on. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’m the one they’re after, the one whose ass is on the line. I have every right to be there when we take them down.”
“We aren’t doing anything. Kitty, I can’t do this. I don’t have time to argue with you and I can’t take you with me. Don’t you understand? I can’t do my job if I’m worrying about you the whole time.”
“Hellooo? Liger! I can take care of myself. That’s what you told your buddies, remember? Or were you just trying to get in my pants?”
Harrier couldn’t help the chuckle. Based on her scowl it was the exact wrong reaction to her argument. “First of all, Kitty, I will always be trying to get into your pants. Now that I’ve had you, I suspect my success rate will be astronomical, but that’s neither here nor there. We don’t believe there are any Sorcerers on location, but we can’t be certain. If it were only the ferals, that would be one thing, but there are too many unknowns.”
He cupped her face in his hand, smoothed a thumb over her determined jaw. “I just found you, Kitty. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
She crossed her arms and her scowl deepened into a snarly frown.
“This is war, Kitty.”
“And I aim to fight. You can’t tell me having a thousand-pound cat on your side wouldn’t be a bonus.”
Harrier dropped his hand from her face as she glared at him. What could he possibly say to that?
~~~~~
K ythryn followed Harrier into the War Room for the second time in as many days. Nights. Whatever. The same group of Vampires sat around the table, only this time they were all decked out in camouflage gear and armed to the teeth. Except for the one with the laptop. He still wore jeans and a t-shirt and his focus was on whatever e-geekery he had going down on that screen.
“What’s she doing here?” It was that Viper guy again. He sure did have a hard on for her and not the good kind. Just as well, as she was one hundred percent spoken for, so Kythryn met his scorn with a smile.
“I’m going to fight.”
Apparently, Viper thought that was the funniest thing he ever heard, as he couldn’t seem to contain his laughter. “What’s she going to do? Run around biting ankles?”
Harrier growled, but Kythryn patted his arm. She had this.
“I think you’ll be surprised what a Shifter can do when properly motivated.”
“Is that what she’s wearing?” He gestured at her jeans and tank top, unwilling or unable to address her directly. “Christ, Harrier. The least you could have done was let me suit her up.”
“She’s brought her own weapons,” Harrier said, apparently done with Viper’s venom. “Though I suggest you not get between her and her prey.”
Viper started to say something else, but the Warlord interrupted. “Enough,” he said. “I won’t keep her from fighting, but she’s your responsibility, Harrier. You’ve cleared this with her Overlord, right?”
“Oh, hell, no!” Kythryn said. “He’s worse than my daddy.”
Mason threw a glare at Harrier. “I’m assuming he hasn’t been informed either.” When he got nothing but blank looks from the both of them, he shrugged. “If she dies, it’s on you.”
Harrier nodded then looked down at her. “If you die, you’d best take me along with you.”
Kythryn swallowed hard, but smiled when he added. “Please don’t get dead, Kitty. Believe it or not, your father terrifies me.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
r esigned to fighting with Kitty by his side, Harrier procured a pickup truck from the Legion’s fleet and a Soldier to drive them to the fur farm. They had a bit of a ride, so Kitty decided to shift on the way to save time. Harrier only had to growl at their driver once to ensure he kept his eyes forward as Kitty stripped down and climbed into the bed of the truck. Harrier joined her, pounded on the roof of the cab, and they were on their way.
He hadn’t been quite prepared for Kitty’s transformation. Sure, he’d seen the liger, but that was after the change, and before he’d had the tiny girl in his bed. Seeing his tiny kitten change into a thousand-pound beast reminded him that there was more to his new lover than met the eye. He would do well to remember that, and gods save any fool who ever underestimated her. Harrier was hoping he was around when Viper finally got a glimpse of his little cat in all her liger glory.
With the shift complete, Kitty stood on four powerful legs and shook out her fur. The movement sent the truck veering across the road as the Soldier fought to maintain control. Kitty dropped to her belly and looked up at Harrier, her big yellow eyes offering up an apology.
He shook his head, but couldn’t hide the grin. Even big as a house, she was still his Kitty. “It’s all good,” he said.
Liger-Kitty crawled to him, laid her head in his lap, and Harrier gave her a rub between the ears. Her fur was so soft, a tawny brown with black stripes running through. She really was quite beautiful like this, despite the oversized head and a body that made him feel small for the first time since he was a boy.
They reached their drop-off point sooner than he’d hoped. He was enjoying the feel of the air on his face and the weight of the liger in his lap. It was peaceful, relaxing. The calm before the storm that was about to rain down.
The truck pulled to a stop at the side of the road, and Harrier gave Liger-Kitty a final pat. “Come on, wee Kitty,” he said. “It’s time to go to work.”
Liger-Kitty chuffed at him, licked his face and leaped out of the truck. Harrier followed, wiping liger slime from his cheek and hoping like hell he’d get the chance to pay her back.
Another vehicle pulled up as Harrier’s ride drove away. A group of Soldiers piled out, only to stop short at the sight of Kitty.
“What the fuck?” one of them whispered.
“She’s on our side,” Harrier growled. “And she’s mine. That’s all you need to know. Get in position.”
The Soldiers moved on, giving Harrier and Liger-Kitty a wide berth. Once they were out of sight he turned to his cat. “Are you ready?”
Liger-Kitty chuffed again and threw her head up and down in a semblance of a nod.
“You sure you want to do this?”
This time she growled.
“Okay then, let’s go.”
Liger-Kitty bumped her head against his hip and followed the Soldiers’ path into the woods.
Chapter Fifty-Four
T he driver dropped Martin and his squad at the edge of the fur farm’s property, where they melted into the trees to take up their predetermined positions. Martin led them through the thick foliage, signaling for them to spread out and maintain radio silence. When they reached the edge of the forest, they held position and waited for the Warriors to make their move.
The house the ferals had been holing up in was something else. It sat at the end of a long lane, about a half mile of tree-lined pavement ending in a circular drive that looped through a porte-cochere. Huge columns made of stone framed the structure, emphasizing the grand entrance. An old car sat off to the side, a Cadillac Coupe de Ville if he was seeing it right, with a license plate that read ANML LVR. Both the car and house had seen better days, but it was obvious they had been spectacular at one time.
The house was more castle than anything, with walls of stone and turrets in the corners. Someone had been living in a fantasy world when they designed the thing. It was totally out of place in Ohio’s farm country, land of the corn, home of the soy bean. The only things missing were a moat and drawbridge, and Martin found himself a little disappointed at the builder’s oversight.
A crackling in his ear piece signaled the arrival of the Warriors as a familiar voice said, “Soldiers at the ready.” Hearing Merlin whispering in his ear sent a shiver through Martin that he hadn’t prepared for, but now wasn’t the time to think about it.
An expl
osion sounded at the west side of the property and a segment of the forest lit up in flames. Seconds later, ferals swarmed from the building, fangs bared and weapons drawn.
“Go! Go! Go!” Merlin shouted into his ear, sending a thrill through Martin that, for once, had nothing to do with the other male.
Martin and the rest of the hundred-odd Soldiers conscripted for this battle teemed from their hiding places. In moments, they had the property surrounded and met the charging brood head on.
Soldiers clashed with ferals and blood flew as fang met claw. Knives and daggers glinted in the moonlight, and Martin’s eyes sparked as he buried his own dagger into the heart of a feral. This was what he’d trained for. This moment of glory when the good guys took on the enemy and brought them to their knees.
He pushed the orange-eyed bastard away and spun to face the male attacking from his rear. A wide sweep with his dagger arm, and the feral’s neck opened in a deep gash. The feral clutched at his throat, no longer a threat as he fell to the ground in a gurgling heap.
Martin took a moment to revel in the battle. The noise was deafening. Battle cries of males fighting to the death, the clash of metal upon metal, the screams of the dying and wounded combined, creating one loud, cohesive sound.
Later, as Martin lay among the dead and dying, he would attribute their failure to his inability to distinguish the dissonance of gunfire from the rest of the clamor. They’d expected a few side arms, maybe even a shotgun or two. But that wasn’t what lay waiting for them in the tops of those turrets.
They’d never seen it coming.
Chapter Fifty-Five
T he snipers in the towers were a stroke of genius, Stone’s, remarkably enough. It became clear to Maxx after one day that most of his ferals were incapable of shooting a gun with any degree of accuracy, and the recruits they’d managed to bring in on short notice were equally incompetent. There were a couple, however, who showed great proficiency, and Stone suggested they use that to their advantage.