by R. J. Blain
“My bet is on the guilty clan of cats who want to make sure you have a good time at your retreat. It must be so difficult for you, forced to acknowledge your family loves you. But you are a lynx. You do enjoy making things as difficult as possible.” Sebastian closed the door and engaged the deadbolt. “Once you have unwrapped your present, I’m going to drag you off, as manly lions tend to do, and unwrap my present. And I made sure to bring all of the required accessories needed to keep you tamed and quiet for my enjoyment.”
Meow. “I like you make it perfectly clear what you have in mind, so I know I need to hurry up and see what’s in this basket so I can be unwrapped and become a present.”
“I must send you to your first spa pampering content and purring. I’ll also make arrangements for dinner, as I’m expecting you will be a relaxed mess of a woman by the time the spa is finished with you.”
I looked forward to it. “I don’t normally eat as much as I have been,” I confessed.
“Your virus is going wild taming my virus, just as mine is going wild taming yours. Then there’s the issue of your blood type changing, although it doesn’t have to change by much.”
“How much is not much?”
“I’m fairly certain, after looking over your file, you’re going to be switching from a negative to positive blood type, and the little I was able to look into it from the CDC’s files, this is the fastest of the changes from lycanthropy mating. You should be fully switched within a week or two, especially if I’m taking close care to expose you to as much of my virus as possible.”
I stared into his eyes. “How absolutely tragic for me.”
He laughed. “Go open your present. I want to listen to you purr.”
“Why do you assume I’m going to purr because there’s a present?”
“I’m hoping you will purr because there is a present, and since your family was not expecting me to be joining you, the present is surely for you rather than both of us.”
“The traitors could have called yesterday,” I reminded him.
Sebastian eyed the basket with interest. “It could be a trap.”
“You like presents?”
“I am a proud and majestic lion, Miss Murder Mittens. I do not merely like presents. I love them. Lions require presents to maintain their emotional health. It’s a rule.”
“But is it a rule you just made up?”
“That’s entirely possible, but if you’re the one giving me the presents, I’m guaranteed to be a happy lion, and my happiness is mandatory.”
I liked the playful side to Sebastian I hadn’t seen before, and I rubbed my hands and approached the coffee table. “Whatever this is, it’s big.” I peered through the cellophane at the basket, which was large enough to hold an entire crochet project with room to spare, assuming I installed a nice slick lining to keep the yarn from catching on the reeds. “It looks handwoven, too. This is a nice basket, Sebastian. I will use it for crocheting.”
“That is stunningly practical. You haven’t even checked what is inside the basket, and you’re making plans for the container.”
“Presents are meant to be fully enjoyed, and I’m enjoying the thought of using this for crocheting. I’ll make a nice liner for it, and that will protect my yarn.”
“Do I need to help you open the present? If you stare at the wrapper and the basket itself all day, I will help you open the present.”
“Impatient lion,” I teased.
“After your present comes my present, and I want my present. And if you take too long, I’ll just toss you over my shoulder and carry you to the bedroom so I can have my wicked way with you. If you purr nicely for me, I’ll even help you shower before you adventure at the spa.”
“I sense I’m being trained to purr on command.”
“There are worse things I could train you to be doing,” the lion replied without any hint of shame. “I’m a lion. A selfish, proud, majestic, and egotistical lion, and I need you to purr for me.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are so damned strange, Sebastian.”
“That’s not purring for me or opening your present, Miss Murder Mittens.”
“This should be savored, Mr. Mane. Savored! Presents are rare and must be fully appreciated.”
“Right. Huge family, and that probably boiled down to minimal gift giving at Christmas. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Please, take your time, then. I will also make sure you have plenty of presents to unwrap over the holidays. I will have to research every holiday involving the gifting of gifts and use these as excuses to shower you with presents.”
“What about you? You need presents, too.”
“You are the present.”
“You deserve presents, too.”
“I’m sure you will think of something appropriate to give me. Your complete surrender in my bed makes an excellent present, and you can give that to me every night if you wish. And as I am a noble lion, I will make sure to show proper appreciation for any gifts you give me.”
“Aren’t you being too nice?”
“Not at all. It will take time for you to learn the true majesty of a lion. When I’m finished with you, you will know lions are the true top feline, and that for you to be loved by a lion makes you a treasured jewel of the feline world. This raises the place of lynxes to a close and beloved second.”
“Lynxes are so much better than lions. We can purr. All you can do is futilely roar whenever you don’t get your way. All talk, Mr. Mane.” I plucked at the red ribbon keeping the basket closed, peeling away the crinkly cellophane to reveal a stuffed bear, a ridiculous amount of chocolate, a bottle of champagne, two champagne flutes, and a gift-wrapped box that reminded me of a gift box for clothes, except a little taller than normal. I picked it up to discover it was a great deal heavier than a clothing box and chill to the touch. A little sticker informed me practitioner magic preserved the contents of the box, and the magic would last for a period of five years before it needed to be renewed. My eyes widened. “Sebastian, this box keeps things cold!”
“It probably contains a cheese board, weapons to assault your cheese, and cheese. Boxes like that show up at the CDC sometimes, which leads me to believe your uncle was involved. I bet it’s catnip infused cheese, since that’s the only cheese anyone should give to a feline.”
“Catnip infused what?”
“Cheese, usually an old cheddar to make it extra special.”
My mouth watered at the thought of cheese and catnip mixed together. “This must have cost a fortune.” I peeled off the wrapping paper to uncover a polished box crafted of dark wood and engraved with feathers. “This is really pretty.”
Sebastian sat on the couch and patted the cushion beside him. “Sit and enjoy opening your present. They probably went overboard. The presence of two flutes implies they made this arrangement after I stole you away from them.”
“You didn’t steal me, Mr. Mane. I stole you. And I denied them the right to beat you up at their leisure.”
“I plan on showing up as a lion one day and picking a fight with the entire clan. You can sit on a cushion I provide while a lynx and enjoy the show.”
That got a purr out of me before I could stop myself. As I’d already lost the war, I tore off the rest of the wrapping paper from the box and lifted off the lid.
As Sebastian suspected, the box did contain a cutting board meant for cheese, several wooden dishes bound together with ribbon, cheese knives, metal skewers for hunting cheese, and several blocks and rounds of cheese. According to the first block of cheese I grabbed, someone had gifted me with three pounds of old cheddar cheese infused with catnip. “How good is twenty-five year cheese?”
“Someone likes you a lot. That stuff will crumble when you touch it, and it is exquisite in its sharpness. Your uncle probably contributed to that, because I really like old cheddars.”
“I’m more of a Monterey Jack woman,” I confessed. I checked the next block, and sure enough, someone had made sure I would enter a catn
ip induced coma using my favorite cheese as the vessel for my catnip high. “See? Monterey Jack! But there are more types of cheese in here?” I peeked at the wheels, discovering several types of soft cheeses and one smaller block of mild cheddar. “So much cheese. And this block will keep my cheese cold? So I can take my cheese anywhere without a refrigerator?”
“Yep. In five years, you’ll need to have the magic renewed on the box, but there should be instructions on where to take it underneath the cutting board. Once outside the box, the board will stay cool to keep your cheeses from warming up too much, too. It’s really nice, especially when you have a good cheese like that old cheddar or your Monterey Jack.”
“I like how you called it good rather than cheap.”
“If you love it, it’s a good cheese.” Sebastian leaned forward, peeked into the basket, and reached inside, pulling out several containers of crackers. “Apparently, your family is sending a message about what they think you should be doing.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Catnip can relax cats. Catnip can also make cats very frisky. Two cats high on catnip tend to get frisky. In bed. There’s enough cheese in that box to induce a week long cheese binge, Miss Murder Mittens. There’s also sausage.” He retrieved the sausage and set them on his lap before rummaging through the basket. I grinned as his curiosity took over. “It’s also catnip infused. You should store these in the cheese box if there is space.”
“I think those will fit. This is probably a hint to continue the family tradition of producing a ridiculous number of kittens.”
“You’re not fertile right now,” Sebastian announced. “Judging from your scent, we’ll have to start being careful in a week or two, although I’m not sure how lynxes differ from lions on that front. I didn’t do any research into lynxes like that. I was more worried about other things.”
I giggled. “Lynxes have set mating seasons. My parents just finished theirs. It lasts about two months. My litter is off-season. We’re just starting our season. My brothers are a little ahead of me, but we figure it was based on our conception dates. In-season lynxes are greedy assholes, and we get very grouchy when we don’t have company. I’m known to be pretty aggressive and cranky. My mother just assaults my father at least once a day. We just go hang out on the front porches of our neighbors when they’re going at it. Thus the whole cop thing I told you about earlier.”
“Are you on birth control?”
“Doesn’t work on female lynxes. At all. We completely ignore it. Or our virus wipes it out. But in good news, there aren’t typically any accidental kittens for lynxes.”
“How are there no accidental kittens for lynxes if you’re in-season and randy for two months? Lionesses are always in-season, and have more of a human reproductive cycle,” he informed me.
“My mother asked a doctor at the CDC once, and they gave her a nice check to retrieve a few eggs and do some experiments. She often lets them do something like that every time there is a litter to help cover the hospital fees and anything else if needed. It’s a thing. With as many kittens as they have? My parents need all the help they can get, and the CDC isn’t really all that bad. They pay fairly for things like that. But anyway, lynxes have really thick egg covers, so it takes a lot of sperm to get through it. The CDC asked an incubus and succubus to evaluate one of her eggs.” I shuddered. “And this is where we enter ‘I didn’t really want to know, but I do now’ territory.”
“Let me guess. They gave the number of times the average human or lycanthrope would have to ejaculate to have a chance of pregnancy.”
“Yes, they did. And because my mother is all about sex education, all of my brothers know, as do I. We even have a list for all known cat species. The list is in my email.”
Sebastian fetched my phones and went to work on them. “I’ll just get your phone set up while you continue exploring the box, because I’m now really curious how much prowess I need to display should we want children.”
“Well, the lowest of any of the numbers is thirty-five. I remember that only because upon learning this, my brothers may have gotten on their knees and bowed to my father.”
Sebastian went still. “The lowest number of times is thirty-five?”
“Yes.”
He gently set the phones on the couch beside him, lifted his hand, opened his mouth, and spluttered.
I understood. I still struggled to imagine the sheer amount of effort my father had to invest in order to make certain there were future kittens in the family.
My brothers and I were a lot more than the result of lust, although my parents had more than their fair share of that.
“Is your father a god or does he get medication?” Sebastian blurted.
“Possibly a god, because he is my daddy. But that talk keeps me awake at night sometimes, Sebastian. Thirty-five times? In one night? Hell, thirty-five times in a matter of hours? Inconceivable!”
“Obviously not, as your father has done a very good job of raising lynx numbers,” Sebastian replied in a dry tone.
I stared at him, and I realized I’d inadvertently assaulted him with a horrible pun. “I am so sorry. That was an accident.”
“Well, none of your brothers were accidents to say the least, and I see I have a great deal of work ahead of me. Do you know what this is, Harri?”
“What is it?”
“A challenge.”
“This year, I think we’re going to have to just come to terms with how challenging that challenge is. I mean, that’s…” The insanity that was my parents when they decided they wanted a new litter around befuddled me, and I shrugged.
“My pride demands I prove myself equal to your father, but I am a fan of your common sense. I’m going to need at least a year to strategize, Harri. And possibly a fertility test to confirm how much work I’ll have to do when we decide it’s time for kittens.”
I grinned at him. “Just think about it this way. If we fail at that challenge a few times, we win even when we lose, and we’ll just have to win some more next time.”
“I like the way you think. With that discussed, shall we sample some of that cheese and take this discussion to the bedroom?”
“Yes, please.”
Nine
They weren’t wearing shirts, and I’m not blind.
Sebastian went shopping while I enjoyed my first venture to the spa, where I was treated like a queen. Nobody flinched, and I suspected the front desk had warned the staff about my scars. Whether to enhance the mood or whether the spa really wanted couples to indulge in each other after sessions, I had two scantily clad men attending to me, and they did my nails while chatting about life in general. Their voices could melt chocolate, and the cream they slathered all over my face before adding the cucumbers did an excellent job of hiding my blushes.
I learned they were both wolves, and they’d been mated since before I was born, leaving me to marvel at the nature of the lycanthropy virus. In a matter of two hours, they did a hell of a lot to convince me not all wolves were idiots, and my hands and feet would never feel the same again. As planned, I went for a sexy red for the nail polish, and they even used practitioner magic to ensure the polish would stay pristine for two weeks.
To my delight, the treatment came with a little gift bag, and I fought my desire to bounce out of the spa. As promised, Sebastian waited for me in the spa’s lobby. I held up my bag. “I got a present.”
The lion chuckled, rose to his feet, and picked up a much larger gift bag from the spa. “And I got you a present while waiting. Upon exploration of our room, I decided we need to soak in the tub while we eat dinner, which will be delivered to our room in about thirty minutes. My shopping is finished, and I’m ready to spend the rest of the week enjoying your company.”
“I was attended to by two handsome wolves, and I bet they could melt chocolate on their chests with the power of their voices alone. Does dinner come with a dessert of lion? I need a dessert of lion.” I showed him my nails. “And
this will last two weeks. Practitioner magic. My nails will be beautiful no matter what I do for the next two weeks.”
While he raised a brow, Sebastian chuckled. “I find you to be beautiful with or without your nails being painted, but your nails look as lovely as you do.”
“Blind lion,” I muttered. “Apparently, they have a formula for scar tissue, and it makes it softer for a while. The wolves are also ancient. I think they’ve been attending to the special needs of spa-visiting women for longer than I’ve been alive. They changed my entire beliefs about wolves in one session. If all wolves were like them, I’d want wolves visiting me daily.”
“That conversion didn’t take long.”
“They weren’t wearing shirts, and I’m not blind. And they’re really, really fit. Not quite as muscular as you are, but they were not slackers.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “What’s in the bag?”
“You will find out as soon as we go back to our room.”
“March, lion.” I pointed at the door. My stomach growled, and Sebastian laughed at the sound. “March!”
Rather than march, he wrapped his arm around me and walked with me. “I will accompany you, but I am not marching in shame to our suite. I have nothing to be ashamed of. How was your first session with the spa.”
I held up my gift bag. “I got a present after being pampered, Sebastian.”
“Presents are pretty magical for you, aren’t they?”
“It seems so. Did you have a good time out?”
“I survived and accomplished everything I set out to do, so I consider it to be a success. I may have been seduced with dyed fiber,” he confessed.
“Again?”
“The craft store rose up, blocked my path, and forced me inside. I struggled, but it was in vain. It was relentless. Cunning and cruel, even, forcing me to detour from my clothing shopping to purchase yarn.” Sebastian shrugged. “The storefront sign said there was yarn on sale. I had to go in and check it out. And once I had purchased the yarn, I realized I needed a proper bag to carry it in, and they had yarn totes, so I got two, because I bought too much yarn. I needed enough of the same dye batch, or it wouldn’t look right. And since I’d purchased the yarn, I also needed hooks for the yarn, so I got those, too. Except I wasn’t sure which type I wanted, so I got several different types.”