by A. C. Arthur
So she’d waited until it was night to slip out of Havenway, which was not easy. And she hadn’t gotten far before she was caught. Luckily for her, the newest shifter captor was a female by the name of Nivea Cannon. She was a guard but she was a female first and recognized the rebellion in Caprise’s eyes. Instead of taking her back or even calling Nick or Rome to tell them where she’d gone, she’d accompanied Caprise to Athena’s.
The minute she heard Rolando’s voice, Caprise reverted to that young girl, in that foreign land, in a foreign body, doing things when she had no idea what their repercussions would be. Her body had shaken all over. All she wanted to do was run. But she was through with that; she reminded herself and the cat that lurked beneath that running was no longer an option. It was time for her to stand.
So on shaky legs she’d come around the corner, watched as X’s large form was about to pounce on Rolando’s. It would be a fight guaranteed to make the front page of the tabloids: a jaguar and a white Bengal tiger battling to the death in the alley behind a strip joint. She couldn’t let that happen. The shadows couldn’t risk the exposure, not because of her.
X found her gaze the moment he turned around and for a split second Caprise felt like there was no one else in that alley. It was just her and this man, and the restlessness that had plagued her for years dissipated.
“Shit!” she heard Nivea say from behind her.
That was about two seconds before the alley was filled with flashes of light. Nivea charged past Caprise, jumping up to kick the Dumpster that was about ten feet away from where Caprise was standing. From behind, a female and a male holding a camera emerged.
“Hey, it’s a free country,” the female quipped.
“If you don’t get your ass out of here you’re going to get a lesson in just how free this country really is,” Nivea replied. Her small frame didn’t look as if it carried a punch, but Caprise figured the way she’d kicked that Dumpster a good distance—it had almost knocked the woman and man on their asses—was a pretty accurate judgment of the damage she could do.
The twosome raced out of the alley, passing Caprise in a blur as they went.
“Go home,” X said, his voice feral as he gazed at her.
“She is home,” Rolando stated, coming from out of the shadows where he’d gone while Nivea did the kicking-trash-can thing.
Her heart tripped at the sound of his voice, and when his hot blue gaze settled on her, Caprise thought she would actually pass out. It had been years since she’d seen him, since she’d left him asleep in the forest.
“You shut the fuck up!” X yelled, pointing at Rolando then turning back to Caprise.
Caprise shook her head. “No, he’s right. I am home. I was born and raised here in DC. This is where I belong.” The words sounded strong and concise. She heard them and wanted to clap for herself, for this step ahead in life she’d taken. But now was certainly not the time.
“I want you out of here,” X said again.
His voice was lethal, his cat’s eyes glaring at her. The body she’d grown so familiar with was bunched with tension, muscles bulging, claws already released.
“She won’t leave, will you, Caprise?” Rolando moved closer. X stood between them.
“You will stay because you know you owe me at least that. You owe me your life,” he told her precisely.
“I owe you nothing,” Caprise told him.
She stood just behind X, could feel and scent his anger building.
“You lied to me and used me. In return, I left your conniving ass in the forest. I’d say that makes us even,” she told Rolando.
Rolando’s head tilted just slightly, his incisors showing as he grinned a malicious smile that almost stopped Caprise’s heart. This was the real Rolando. This was who and what she’d realized he was, only that realization had come too late. And it had come at a great cost.
“You lied to me. Then you ran like a coward. You went to those humans and together you killed my child. Buried him beneath the earth like he was nothing. For that,” he said with a chuckle, “you, my companheiro, must pay.”
The next actions happened in a blur but Caprise knew she’d never forget them. The sounds, the scents, the death. She would store this memory alongside that of her son, Henrique, for the rest of her life.
Rolando’s shift was quick, his cat’s heavy paws hitting the pavement with a thump that rocked the entire alley. It lunged right over X’s shoulders, pushing Caprise back onto the ground. She didn’t have a second to think, to reconsider, or to retreat. Her cat ripped free of her human body with a roar that echoed. Leaning back on its hind legs, it threw its front paws up just in time to catch the first blows from Rolando.
Behind her she heard another cat’s growl. Then Rolando’s head reared back, its mouth opened wide, teeth bared. Another ferocious roar and the tiger was out of her reach. Through her cat’s eyes she watched as X, now in cat form, sank his teeth deep into Rolando’s neck. The tiger roared and tried to swipe back, but X was on its back, jaws locked, eyes focused … on her.
The tiger writhed and roared, tumbling along the ground of the alley with the jaguar fiercely hanging on to it. It was dying. X was killing Rolando. Caprise’s cat roared so loud she thought she might actually go deaf from the sound. She stumbled back, heart thumping wildly.
When X shook his cat’s head, jerking with all his strength, the tiger went down on its front legs. Its blue eyes rolled back and forth then locked on Caprise’s cat. Her flanks heaved with the effort it took for her to watch. There were two big cats fighting in an alley. Both she’d shared herself with. One was dying. The other was killing.
And suddenly the bravado the human had was being chased by the sight of the cats. She backed away, on four legs, slowly moved until the sight of X and Rolando grew blurred. Coolness pelted her fur and she realized it was raining. It came down in sheets as heavy and disfiguring as those in the rain forest. The scent permeated her senses and flashbacks ran rapidly through her mind.
Running through the forest with Rolando, making love beneath the misty canopy, lying beside him in the long night hours, listening to him breathe, wondering if he were her mate.
Realizing he was not who he said, seeing the differences in his eyes, his stance, his claws when retracted. He was no Topètenia. Everything between them was a lie.
She’d run that night, her paws clamping to the bark of trees as she went higher and higher into the canopy then moved fluidly from branch to branch until she was a safe distance away. The cat ran as far as it could before the human had to take over the journey.
Months later there was the pain of labor. The death of a child. Tears and pain she thought would kill her. The eyes of her dead child staring back at her—one brown like hers, the other blue like Rolando’s.
Caprise turned from the alley then, her cat running through the rainy streets of downtown Washington, DC, at full speed.
Chapter 20
“You were seen,” Rome said as calmly as he could manage when X and Nivea returned to Havenway. It was almost dawn. They’d spent hours looking for Caprise before deciding to come back here.
“There were two humans, one with a camera,” Nivea added in a slow, quiet voice.
“What the fuck? Are both of you insane?” Nick asked. “Pictures? There are pictures of cats out there?”
X shook his head. “I hadn’t shifted. Nobody had shifted at that time. Nivea chased them off before any of that happened.”
“So we should be glad they didn’t see you kill a fucking tiger? Is that what you’re saying?” Nick was not in a good mood.
And X was sick of Nick’s bad moods. He was in the other man’s face in a split second, grabbing his shirt and pushing him back a step as he spoke right in his face. “Look, I’m not in the mood for this shit. It happened and I couldn’t stop it. So be it. Let’s move on.”
“Get the hell off me,” Nick said, pushing back at X. “You need to think first, idiot. You were in a public place.�
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“I need to think first?” X asked. “You don’t even want to go there with me, Delgado.”
“Enough!” Rome yelled. “I’m sick of you two bickering like two little girls. Now is not the time for your pissing match. Like X said, what’s done is done. Now we need to do damage control. But you can bet we’ll talk about you disobeying my direct order later.”
“Where’s Caprise?” Nick asked when he stepped away from X and had gone to stand near Rome.
X rubbed his hand down his face and walked away, too. Nick wasn’t his immediate concern. As for Rome’s comment, he’d deal with the FL’s wrath later. What he needed to do right now, before he took his next breath, was to see Caprise.
“I’m going to get her now,” he said, heading for the door.
“I’ll come with you,” Nick said.
X turned slowly. “Stay. The. Hell. Back.”
Rome put a hand on Nick’s shoulder when the shifter acted as if he were going to ignore X’s command.
X didn’t speak again, just walked out, not giving a damn what any of them said when he was gone. Out in the hall he moved quickly toward Caprise’s rooms. She had to be here.
Instinct had finally led him here. He’d been trying to scent her on the streets but he couldn’t. Focusing was definitely an issue right about now. He and Nivea had burned the body of the tiger and left its ashes right there in the alley to be washed away by the rain. He’d known Caprise had run off and had considered giving her some space before he went to her demanding to be told everything.
Because make no mistake about it, Caprise would not walk away from him again without telling him. Something happened between her and that tiger, something that tore her apart. No, it hadn’t torn her apart, it had stolen her innocence. Not the way his had been stolen, but just as traumatizing. A part of her had been missing ever since, a part that had been replaced with the cold candor of the female that had returned to Washington, DC. The chip on her shoulder was more like a boulder that she carried because she thought she had to. He was going to set her straight once and for all.
X lifted a hand to knock on her door. But he couldn’t knock. He stared at his own hand, dark skin he’d been used to seeing all his life, bruised knuckles on the same four fingers as he’d always had. The difference now was how those fingers and that hand shook. With a curse he yanked his arm down to his side. He was shaking. Xavier Santos-Markland was never shaken. Ever.
Except now, he was.
Inhaling slowly, he let out the breath and closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm himself before going in. She didn’t need the angry X. If he went in yelling and demanding the way he wanted to, and normally would have, she’d no doubt fight back and keep everything that was already bottled inside her to herself. That’s not how he wanted this to end, not this time.
So he was a lot steadier when he finally knocked on the door. She didn’t answer. He knocked again because X knew she was in there. Her scent was strong now, his nostrils flaring with the sweet musky smell. There was no doubt in his mind she was standing on the other side of that door. So when he knocked once more and still received no answer, X punched in the code and waited until the lock clicked before pushing his way in. Being the one to reprogram her lock after he’d broken it had come in handy. That’s exactly the way he’d planned it.
She sat on the side of the bed, her back facing him. X pushed the door closed and waited until he heard the locks click back in place before walking quietly across the floor. Then he stopped, his teeth clenching, fists balling at his side.
It smelled like raindrops. The scent broke X down to a level he’d never experienced before. She didn’t move, didn’t even lift her head to see him. But X knew she was crying.
“Caprise,” he said. She still didn’t look up.
X went to his knees in front of her, pulling her hands from her lap and holding them tightly.
“Tell me what happened, babygirl. Tell me what he did to you.”
For endless moments she was quiet. So quiet X wanted to grab her shoulders and shake her. Hair curtained her face but tears fell steadily, staining the shorts she wore.
“I thought he was like us,” she said so softly X almost didn’t hear her. “But he was so angry one day, like he wanted to kill somebody. He kept talking about traitors and sabotage. He said he wanted to go back home but that choice had been taken from him. I didn’t know what he meant, didn’t realize he wasn’t talking about the Gungi, until it was too late.” She shook her head but still did not look at him. “Then I tried to calm him down. He wasn’t trying to listen to me. He walked off and was gone for a while. I followed his scent and I saw him. I saw his claws and his eyes and then he shifted and I saw the tiger.” She let out a deep sigh as if the admission itself had been a tremendous task.
Her fingers were limp in his hand, warm, but still. Without thought X saw his thumbs moving over the back of her hand, rubbing the soft skin in soothing circles.
“I was afraid and I was angry. He never said he wasn’t Topètenia. I didn’t know why a tiger would be in the Gungi but I couldn’t think of any good reason. I wanted to run to the village to warn them. Then I just wanted to run away period. Forever.” Her breath came in slow waves, guiding her along in this long-overdue release.
“I thought he was someone I could count on—that this was who I was meant to be with. But after he lied I knew that was wrong. I wasn’t meant to be with a liar, man nor cat. My parents had already left me because they were cats and wanted more than they should have. I hated everything about shifters, their scent, their looks, their lives. Everything. I wanted to go so far away nobody would ever think I was a shifter again.”
Because he remembered how it felt to be confused and angry, X dropped one of her hands and lifted it to brush her hair back. He cupped her cheek and moved his hand gently so that her head lifted to look at him.
“Where did you go?” he asked.
He swallowed hard after asking her because when he looked into her eyes he didn’t want to talk. All X wanted to do at that point was hold her. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and allow her to cry until she was completely diffused. If he had to watch those tears fall from her eyes, he wanted all her pain and hurt washed away with them.
“There was a village a couple of miles from the forest. I was so tired and hungry and I felt sick. Some missionaries saw that I was American and took me in.”
She looked away from him then and took a deep breath. “I was pregnant by Rolando,” she said finally.
“I stayed with the missionaries until he was born.”
He couldn’t ask her what happened next; his mouth just wouldn’t form the words. So for endless seconds they just sat there, neither of them speaking or moving.
“I gave birth and he looked normal,” she started again, her voice a little shakier.
Tears flowed faster, so fast her eyes didn’t even look like they blinked, just leaked incessantly.
“He looked just like my dad.” She took a deep breath. “I named him Henrique because he looked like my dad.”
The hand he was still holding she pulled back. When she stood and walked across the room, stopping at the window, X could only stare at her. Inside, his cat wanted out; he wanted to rip free and find any and everyone who’d ever hurt this woman and break their necks, the way he had Rolando’s. Instead he stood, folding his arms across his chest.
“He died because he wasn’t normal. He wasn’t human,” she said quietly.
Her back had been facing him but she whirled around so fast she was looking at him in the next instant.
“He wasn’t even part human. He was parts of two different shifters and that killed him!” she screamed.
“Did a doctor tell you that’s why he died?” X asked still trying desperately to remain calm.
“There was a midwife and a shaman. They both looked at him and knew he wasn’t normal.”
“But you said he looked like your father.”
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bsp; She nodded her head vehemently. “He did. Just like my dad. But his eyes were different. That’s how they knew.”
“They knew what?”
“That he was a shifter. The shaman kept saying “shadow” over and over again. But the midwife shook her head. She said something else: abomanción. She repeated that several times before she began wrapping him tightly in a blanket. They buried him that night after the sun had gone down at the border to the forest because they were afraid to go any farther.”
“This midwife, was she an American human?”
“No, she was Portuguese, but she was human. Just like the shaman. When they came back they prayed with me and they…” She hesitated, then took another steadying breath. “They gave me this.”
Caprise pulled down the band of her shorts and pushed the shirt away so that the tattoo on her right hip was visible. X had seen the tattoo before. He remembered the swirling lines that circled into the shape of a heart, something intricately written in the center. He just assumed it was a personal choice to be inked, as his had been.
“It’s his name in Portuguese so that I would never forget. The shaman said to use it as a warning so I’d never mix with another breed or procreate again.”
“You should have told his fake ass to take a hike,” X grumbled, remembering the shaman Yuri who’d actually turned against Ary and the shadows for the American money that Sabar offered him. That had gotten the spiritual medicine man killed. X promised that the next of these bullshit healers to cross his path was getting a bullet through his skull.
She was shaking her head again. “He was mixed with the blood of two different types of shifters. There was no way he could have survived.”