by Holley Trent
The moment he stepped into the kitchen, however, his plans got diverted.
Eric stood at the sink, hands on his hips, staring up at a television bracketed into the corner. He cast his dark brown eyes at Felipe, studying him for a moment, then looked up into the corner again. He said nothing until the television volume ratcheted up as the station segued into a commercial.
“You can set those dishes on the counter over there. You could have left them in the room. Maid would have got them in the morning.”
Felipe did what he said, but first stopped at the trashcan to scrape the remnants in. “Sarah did not finish. The smell probably would have been unpleasant by morning.”
Eric lifted a brow of incredulity and turned his back to Felipe to tend to the dishes in the sink. “Sarah didn’t finish? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“She’s tired.”
“She works too hard. I keep getting on her to take a break, sit still for a while. Even offered her a room here for as long as she wanted it, but she wouldn’t have it.”
“Thanks for dinner.” Felipe started backing out of the kitchen, but the commercial break ended and Eric said, calmly, while elbow-deep in sudsy water, “I would watch this if I were you.”
Felipe turned around just in time to see Eric’s head cocking toward the television. Felipe looked up and studied the headline tacked to the bottom of the newsfeed.
Circus owner pleads for public help in locating missing acrobat.
“Missing acrobat?”
On screen, an overenthusiastic reporter in a taupe pantsuit stood between Jacques and an annoyed-looking Fabian. She nodded consolingly as Jacques prattled on and on about Felipe’s “mysterious” disappearance. He went so far as to suggest foul play. Fabian said nothing. He stared at something or someone off-screen and held his arms crossed over his chest. Even with the small size of the television, Felipe could still see his brother’s jaw grating side to side as he ground his teeth. If anyone in the public thought Fabian was concerned, they weren’t good at reading people.
Fabian was saying all he needed without saying a word. He was wearing his cross. That wouldn’t have meant a damned thing to Jacques, but meant a change of plans for Felipe.
Dammit, little brother.
“If you have any information about acrobat Felipe Castillo, please call Buncombe County Police or the Merveilles Sans Fin circus’s answering service at the number below,” the reporter said.
Eric reached a soapy hand to the remote control and turned the television off. His stare asked a thousand questions, but Felipe wasn’t in the mood to answer any of them. The only thing he was in the mood for at the moment was getting in a car and going after his brother.
That cross Fabian wore meant he was likely about to do something very rash, and maybe he didn’t know for sure Felipe would see the broadcast, but he’d put that rarely-worn relic on just in case he did. This sign meant, “I’m nearing the end of my rope.” The last time Fabian had worn it was when they were doing a weeklong stint in St. Petersburg, Russia. Jacques had booked Felipe and Fabian into a personal show for some socialites with money to burn. Jacques had very nearly become their pimp that night, and the only reason they hadn’t gone through with it was because Fabian had delivered some very tidy insults to two of the ladies in attendance.
Jacques made sure Fabian regretted it later, but Fabian had had his revenge. Jacques didn’t know it, yet. Perhaps it would be years before Jacques found out what Fabian had done, if ever. He’d deprived the ringmaster from acquiring another wind walker—a little Russian girl with stars in her eyes.
Fabian had scared her away, sent her running back to her parents with a note of warning.
Whatever Fabian was about to do, Felipe wanted to be there to temper the fallout. Felipe didn’t think it would be something so magnanimous this time.
“I try to stay out of Shrew business as much as I can,” Eric said, casting a speculative look toward Felipe. “Astrid prefers it that way. But that look on your face tells me you’re about to cause my friend a heap of frustration.”
Felipe shifted his weight. “I plan on doing no such thing.”
“Oh yeah?” Eric chuckled and shook his head. “’Cause if that were my sister up there on that screen wearing a suspicious look like the thing they’re reporting about is a goddamned lie, I’d probably be reaching for my truck keys. But, you know, I know Astrid better than anyone.”
“Your point?”
Eric shrugged and wiped his hands dry on the half-apron he wore tied around his slim hips. “I’m guessing the fact you’re here with Sarah is indicative of the fact you’re not actually missing.”
“And?”
“And your brother didn’t look too concerned about you being missing, either. You two on the outs?”
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” Eric reached around his back and unknotted the apron. He said nothing as he balled the fabric into a compact wad and tossed it toward a laundry bin. “So, I’m going to make an educated guess here. Either you’re going to wake Sarah from the sleep she desperately needs or you’re going to walk into the trap alone.”
“What makes you think it’s a trap?”
Eric groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I may try to stay out of Shrew business whenever possible, but Astrid and I have a lot in common. Even before the mutations, she was a naturally suspicious sort. So am I. We get that from our dad.”
The mutations? Everyone kept pussyfooting around that subject. Just what had happened to these women? Eric didn’t know Felipe didn’t know, and Felipe wasn’t ready to admit it. He wanted to pry—use Eric as his Sarah encyclopedia—but that seemed like cheating in a way. Sarah was a woman who needed to be opened up petal by petal, so he’d broach the subject with her when the time was right.
“Let me go with you,” Eric said.
Felipe started. He hadn’t expected to hear such a proposition. If anything, he expected Eric to chew him out about his association with Sarah. Then again, the night was young, so perhaps that was still forthcoming.
“Come with me?”
“You know you were thinking it. You’re going to run off to deal with it, and if I’ve learned anything at all from the Shrews, I’ve learned you should never go anywhere without having someone at your back if you can help it.”
“And you want to watch my back?”
Eric rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’m itching for some action. I’m holed up in this lodge day in and day out. I could do with a bit of danger in my life.”
Felipe shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I refuse to take responsibility for any harm you may come into.”
“That’s what you’re worried about? Don’t. I’m a grown-ass man. I was all-state wrestling champion in my weight class back in high school.”
Is this guy kidding me?
Felipe eyed him from head to foot. Eric wasn’t a big guy by any stretch of the imagination, but he wasn’t scrawny, either. “How are your reflexes?”
“I could catch a fly in the palm of my hand.”
“I am sure that’s a very useful trick in the real world.” He sighed. “But get your keys anyway.”
Eric pumped his fist and jogged past Felipe. He froze in the doorway and pointed at his guest, his eyes narrowed. “Do me a favor and don’t tell Astrid about this. She’ll kick my ass.”
Felipe closed his eyes, rubbed them, and groaned.
___
Sarah awoke in the dark with a start and reached for her gun. With her fingers wrapped around the handle, she stilled. Listening. The room was too quiet. The only sounds were the loud cranks of the ice machine down the hall and the dogwood branches scraping against the window in the wind.
She blew out a breath and sat up, squinting at the alarm clock.
Three a.m.
She stretched her arms over her head, letting her tight muscles unclench as she scanned the room. Instinct told her that bold Feli
pe should have been on the bed beside her, but he wasn’t. That side of the bed was still made with the sheets tightly tucked and the pillows unmolested.
“Damn him.”
She tossed the sheets back and crawled to the other edge, thinking perhaps he’d slept on the floor near the window.
Nothing there but carpet.
“Fuck.”
Now on her feet, she hurried to her pile of clothes near the bureau, but tripped over Felipe’s backpack. She stopped her fall by slamming her arm against the dresser top.
His backpack still being there meant he couldn’t have gone far. He wouldn’t have left behind everything he owned that had value. “Maybe he was thirsty and went out for another drink.”
But that was assuming he’d returned from getting the first drink, and she suspected he hadn’t.
She slipped into her jeans and reached for her phone.
Dana answered on the second ring.
“What are you doing up?” Sarah asked.
“We’re on shifts. Not trying to agitate you or anything, but we’re on code orange here. Gut feel says someone’s trying to get the drop on us. I don’t know if it’s the Bears or someone else. What’s up? You should be resting.”
“I should be, but I had a natural wake-up and found Felipe missing. His bag’s here, though. I’m putting on my shoes now and I’m going to go check the building. Maybe he’s just watching television down in the great room or something.”
“If you really believed that, you wouldn’t have called me.”
“Honestly, I have no idea why I called you. Must be psychic Shrew shit.”
Sarah padded out into the hallway, shut the door quietly, and headed down the staircase into the great room. Save for a couple of lamps, the room was dim. Vacant. There was no one on the sofas. No one in the nooks.
“I wonder if it has anything to do with that news report from earlier,” Dana said.
Sarah paused with her hand on the kitchen door. “What news report?”
“I think it was the seven o’clock broadcast.”
“I must have fallen asleep around seven. Felipe went out to get rid of our dishes.”
“Oh. Jacques was on the news with Fabian.”
The kitchen was dark. Sarah swore an oath under her breath and tracked to the rear door. She looked out the window and confirmed that Eric’s big beast of a truck was missing. “Shit.” She pounded the security code into the keypad and shouldered the door open. “Eric’s truck is gone. I’m going to run up to the house and see if he’s there.”
“Honey, don’t bother.”
Sarah stopped mid-stride. “Why not?”
“Astrid just radioed up from the gate. Felipe and Eric are here with our missing Cats.”
The meaning of that flicked through Sarah’s mind like frames from an old movie reel. “Are they, now?” she said, voice dry as she stepped back into the kitchen and shut the door, resetting the intruder alarm.
“Yeah, they’re coming up the drive. I need to go wake Patrick and call Billy. You stay put.”
“What? I will not just sit here and twiddle my thumbs while—”
“I mean it, Sarah. You stay there. We’ll deal. You go back to bed and I’ll send Felipe to you.”
“Well, don’t do me any favors.”
Dana had already hung up.
“Fuck!”
___
When Felipe returned to the lodge, he hoped to find Sarah still asleep.
He padded into the room at five a.m. and heeled off his shoes near the bathroom. He hardly made a sound as he tracked across the foyer carpet toward the dresser.
Something rustled on the bed, and he figured it was Sarah rolling over or pulling the sheets. No such luck.
Sarah sat with her back against the headboard, arms crossed over her chest, eyes wide open, and casting him a withering glower. She drummed her fingertips along the sides of her biceps and ground her teeth. That was evident even in the dim light.
“Hola,” he said lamely.
She scoffed. “Why don’t you go hola yourself, and far away from me, while you’re at it?”
Her legs were crossed at the ankles, and the top foot bobbed angrily.
He couldn’t know for certain why she was angry, but he was smart enough to know it didn’t matter. “I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, and tried not to let the sight of her smooth, brown legs in the dark distract him from the apology she apparently sought.
“Where were you?”
He suspected she already knew, but if she were going to play a game, he’d join the fun.
At the bedside, he watched her angry expression shift to a milder one of annoyance as he unbuttoned his pants and let them fall to the floor. Five a.m. or not, he hadn’t gotten any sleep. He had planned to catch a few winks before breakfast, which Eric promised would be far better than cold cereal.
He slipped beneath the sheets and fluffed the pillows before responding.
Judging by the hard set of her jaw, Sarah’s patience was wearing thin.
“Why don’t you get under the covers? You look cold in my shirt.”
Her response was a long blink, which may have actually been an eye-roll.
He settled on his right side and propped his head up on his fist, locking his gaze on hers. “When I took the dishes into the kitchen, there was a news report—”
“I already know that part.”
“Okay. Spare me some words, then. How far forward shall I jump?”
“How about you fast-forward to the part where you thought it would be okay to go swashbuckling without me?”
Swashbuckling? The confusion must have been marked on his face, because she said, “Astrid is going to kick your ass from here to Kentucky for taking her brother out.”
“Ah.” Felipe suppressed a laugh and shook his head. “No, no, no. He took me out. He volunteered. And, yes, Astrid was angry. When we left, she was still yelling at him. I am certain when she gets it out of her system, she’ll turn her angst next to me. No worries, though, Eric can hold his own in a scuffle.”
“I’m aware of that, but why was there a scuffle?”
“Can we talk about this in the morning?” He clasped his free hand over his yawning mouth.
“It is morning.”
“So it is, but how about let us wait until a civilized hour? I’ve already been…what is the word? De—”
“Debriefed?”
“Yes. Debriefed. I’ve already been debriefed twice. Once by Dana and then by Patrick.”
“Not by Billy?”
“No. Why?”
She scoffed. “Of course not. That Cat is good for nothing. Useless.”
She sighed, pushed down the covers, and stretched her legs beneath the sheets. Once she’d squirmed down low enough that her chin met the blanket, she said, “Don’t worry about it. If Dana knows, there’s nothing further to say.”
“What is this about? You’re not my bodyguard. You’re off the case, yes? Right now, we’re here because you’re supposed to be getting some sleep, and I’m here because I said I would stick around and help. And that is what I did.” He raked hair out of his eyes and blew out a breath. “Although we may have made some things worse in the process.”
“Like what?” She turned on her left side and propped her head up, too. The annoyance had leeched from her face and all that remained was concern.
Clearly, he wouldn’t be getting any sleep until he quelled her curiosity, but he didn’t mind so much as long as she stayed that close to him. She was so near, he could feel the heat from her body beneath the covers.
He cleared his throat and averted his gaze from the low dip of the shirt at the top of her cleavage. “Eric snuck onto the premises to scout out Fabian because I can not get close. Eric recognized the sound of a baying Were-cat, and found a pair locked in one of the campers. Jacques had forced them to shift. That’s what he does. Makes them all learn to shift on command so they can pretend to be real animals in the shows. The crowd l
oves it when the so-called animals go wild.”
“Forced shifting. Damn. It’s hell on the cells. Patrick avoids it as much as he can. Most of the Cats won’t even shift in a fight against the Bears unless they run out of options.” Her forehead furrowed and lips slightly parted while she thought.
Lovely.
Her intelligence did it for him nearly as much as her looks. She was a woman who should have belonged to someone. He wondered what the fuck was wrong with American men. He was more than happy to be the brave volunteer tasked with pinning her down, but recognized she might not take kindly to the idea. He was a man who had absolutely nothing to his name. Nothing to offer. He wasn’t even sure he had a valid passport.
He cleared his throat again. “Yes, Patrick explained that. Anyhow, I was standing near the fence waiting for some news from Eric, and that’s when I heard the bears.”
“The bears? Real bears?”
“No, querida. What Dana would call capital-B bears. When I heard them, I told Eric to run, thinking it might have been some Visas doing security in their beast forms, but he signaled for me to be quiet. He walked to another camper and pointed to it, then hid in the dark until one of the circus hands went in with a box of supplies. When the circus hand was distracted with the Bears, Eric let the Cats out. They didn’t seem to understand what was going on…”
“Hence the scuffle.”
“Sí.”
A swath of her black hair fell over her eyes, and Felipe reached in, tentatively, and brushed it back from her face. When she didn’t draw away, he let his fingers linger there, looping around a length of her hair.
“Some of the staff ran out to see what the trouble was, so I had to run in. I don’t know if they saw me before I went invisible. I had to make sure Eric saw me before I phased so we didn’t get in each other’s way.”
“So, after the Cats recognized Eric, you all ran?”
“Yes. I didn’t have time to search further for Fabian. Jacques will catch wind of my presence there. I suspect because of that, the circus will move soon, and not using its planned itinerary.”
“Maybe that means before they pull up stakes, we should run in with guns blazing and rescue any other folks who need it.”