Under the Midnight Cloak

by S. Y. Thompson

  He had to be extremely careful leaving the narrow tunnel, crawling under the lower level staircase and into the root cellar with the new occupants around. When the woman wasn't home, he had to look out for the damned mutt. He'd considered eating it but, as satisfying as it would be, it would also alert the new owner to his presence.

  The younger woman had taken the old lady's place and the threat of detection grew every day. Eventually, he might have to move to the tunnel itself. The thought held little appeal. He couldn't leave yet because he still hadn't located what he needed.

  He found it difficult to concentrate with these headaches that were getting more frequent. There was relief when he transformed, but even shifting had become problematic. When he changed back, he couldn't always remember everything he had done.

  He reached the entrance to the main house and placed one hand against the wall while he closed his eyes to concentrate on listening. His sensitive fingertips detected no vibrations from the other side, nor did he hear anything that might lead him to believe anyone was nearby. It was so late he didn't really expect the woman or the dog to be awake and moving about the house, but he had to be sure he was alone.

  Cobwebs covered the rusty wall sconce embedded into the brick, but he didn't hesitate to grasp the base and twist sharply. A four by two foot panel slid open and he crawled through. He had always been small for a shifter and had lost weight since the headaches started.

  After moving through the opening, he crossed under the staircase and hurried into the root cellar. His stomach complained noisily and he ran toward the wooden barrels in the back. A grin that was more of a snarl contorted his features when he looked inside. He always kept part of his kills in case he needed food later.

  "I'M SORRY, MOM. That's all I was able to pick up and I grant you, it wasn't much. The storm damaged any evidence that might have been there. All I know for sure is that it was a lion, but there seems to be something unusual about it."

  Jamison listened carefully while Darlene Kessler responded. The cell reception wasn't very good and the static over the line made communication difficult.

  "What do you mean, there's something different? Did the animal smell sick?"

  "Not like rabies or anything, if that's what you mean. It's something else, but sick is the only word I can come up with. Did you talk with Frank Chiesel?"

  Darlene sighed and Jamison smiled, thinking Dinah had her mother's affectations. "He says they haven't had any rogue lions or banishments lately and he can't think of anyone who could be doing this, or what possible motives they might have."

  "You don't sound like you believe him."

  "Oh, no. I believe him. I just don't think he's telling me everything. Maybe there were too many ears listening in."

  "He's the alpha, why should he care?"

  "Politics, dear. It always comes down to politics and a lion pride isn't a very forgiving community. Frank is aging and not gracefully. If he does anything that could be seen as acting against their best interests, someone might challenge his position."

  Jamison thought about that. A challenge for authority in a lion pride usually resulted in a violent altercation. One of the combatants would die and the other would be the unquestioned alpha. It wasn't very good incentive for Chiesel to provide intelligence to an outside group of shape changers.

  "What does the Council recommend?"

  "A face to face discussion. Frank would be well within his rights as pride leader to speak with a visiting shape changer alone and in person."

  "Uh huh, and let me guess who's elected?"

  Darlene laughed. "You really are the most qualified for this sort of thing. You handle individuals outside the Panthera every day. Most of our people wouldn't have the patience."

  "Fine, what are your instructions?" Jamison's shoulders slumped and resignation set in as she listened to what the elders expected of her. She jotted down the address in Newton Falls where she could find the Felidae Coalition.

  She hung up her cell phone and grabbed her keys. It was already nine o'clock in the morning. It would take forty minutes to drive over to the lion-dominated town, more time to get past their security to speak to the leader and then actually talk to the man himself. She rolled her eyes. This was going to take all day. At least she could check in with the beta teams by cell on the way. It was breaking her cardinal rule about talking on the phone while driving, but she wouldn't have any other time if she wanted to speak with them today.

  Just as she sat behind the wheel of her Chevy, the cell phone rang. She was surprised when the caller ID listed Lee's number.

  "Hi, there," she said, a smile brightening her features.

  "Hey. How are you?"

  Lee sounded a little reserved like she wasn't sure she should be calling. It was something Jamison thought was cute and she grinned even harder. "I'm fine. How are things going over at the manor?"

  "Oh, same old thing. I was really just calling to tell you I had a great time yesterday."

  "So did I. Cleo certainly seemed to have fun, too."

  "Definitely." Lee laughed. "She crashed as soon as we came home. Listen, I wanted to ask you something."

  "If it's about the barrels, I'm afraid I haven't had time to get hold of anyone yet."

  "No. It's not that. I was just wondering if you'd be interested in having dinner with me...here...tonight."

  Jamison's heart soared. She had told Dinah she didn't date outside the Panthera population, but she couldn't think of anything she'd rather do than have dinner with Lee. Excluding humans from personal interaction was quickly becoming overrated.

  Or maybe it's just this one human, she considered. She had just taken a breath in anticipation of accepting when she recalled her errand and she didn't know how long it was going to take.

  Damn.

  "I'd love to, trust me, but I have to go out of town on business today. I don't know when I'm going to get back."

  "Oh."

  Lee sounded so disappointed that Jamison couldn't leave the conversation at that. "Can we do it another time?"

  "Sure, it's no problem. I'm sure I can find plenty to do around here. Why don't you just give me a call when you get a chance?"

  Jamison recognized the signs of putting on a brave face when she heard it. She had done it herself more than once. It bothered her that Lee might think she was just making an excuse. "Lee, I really do want to spend time with you."

  "I know. It's okay, just be careful."

  Jamison hesitated a moment. Lee couldn't know she was in the middle of an investigation or that it might be dangerous. "Why do you say that?"

  "I don't know; it's just a funny feeling. I get them sometimes and I usually try to listen to them."

  "Most people would call that intuition."

  Lee laughed. "Or they might call me a nut job."

  Jamison smiled. "Maybe, but I don't think there's anything wrong with listening to your instincts."

  "Thanks. I appreciate you letting me off the hook, but you will be careful driving."

  It wasn't a request and Jamison felt warmed by the concern. "I will. You too." She hung up with a smile on her face.

  JAMISON DROVE THE winding mountain roads to Newton Falls. Though not thrilled to have been handed the task of meeting with the Felidae Coalition's alpha, it just wasn't in her to shirk her duties. She wanted to get this over with quickly and head home. Maybe she could speed things along and still have dinner with Lee. The chances were slim since the Coalition had a reputation for being slow to communicate with outsiders.

  It wasn't that shape changers were antagonistic or petulant, but Jamison knew from her own perspective how territorial they could be. Most jungle cats were. And while the Panthera and Felidae had an alliance, it still wouldn't be a good idea to mosey right up to their doorstep uninvited. Lions, on average, were twice the size of jaguars. They were second only to tigers among the big cats. Jaguars were third, but Jamison thought the Panthera were the most intelligent.

 
; Biased much? she asked herself with a grin.

  Fortunately her mother, an elder, had assured her she was expected.

  The Newton Falls city limits sign made her sit up straight and pay more attention. Darlene Kessler had given her directions to the old plantation house where Frank Chiesel lived and the turn off would be coming up fairly soon. After that she'd have to look out for sentries, what the lion shifters called chasovye.

  The Felidae had migrated from Siberia centuries ago across the Bering Strait. The Panthera were the descendents of Egyptian bodyguards. Their community languages were derived from their respective origins, but it wasn't just their languages that differed. It was their entire philosophies. Lion prides were structured quite differently. Where they were social and preferred many of their kind living together, jaguars were solitary. The Coalition used sentries on a continuous basis; Panthera came together only when necessary and formed hunting parties that broke apart once the need passed.

  That being the case, lions had an alpha to lead them. Panthera wouldn't bow down to a single leader and many were too dominant to even consider it. A pieta was the closest thing they had to the equivalent, but Jamison knew that only made her a leader. It didn't give her the right to determine how other Panthera lived.

  She was so lost in thought, Jamison almost missed where the road veered off. She pressed a little too hard on the brakes and pulled toward the shoulder. Gravel flew out from under the tires and showered a small mile marker. The truck swung a little wide, but she made it. Without her jungle cat reflexes, the results could have been disastrous. The shoulder of the road dropped away into a deep gully and there wasn't a guard rail. She let out a deep breath when seconds later she drove onto a narrow, blacktop lane.

  She'd been told the house was half a mile up the private drive, but she had traveled less than half that when she came to a roadblock.

  A black Nissan Armada with darkly tinted windows sat parallel across the center of the path. A woman wearing a cutoff green t-shirt that showed her muscled midriff, Army fatigue pants and carrying a military issue P-90 stood with her feet spread. The woman stood directly in front of Jamison's vehicle. Her eyes were covered with reflective sunglasses meant to intimidate.

  Two men, similarly garbed, came around the front and rear of the vehicle to join the woman.

  "Nice welcome party," Jamison mumbled under her breath.

  She kept her hands on the steering wheel where they could be seen and rolled to a complete stop. Getting out of the pickup could be seen as an act of aggression so she kept her seat and waited for them to come to her.

  The woman waited just long enough to make it clear who was in charge before she walked over to the driver's side. She motioned for Jamison to lower the window with one hand, but kept the weapon trained inside the Chevy with the other.

  "State your business," the woman said as soon as the glass had lowered far enough.

  "I'm Jamison--"

  "I didn't ask for you name. I said state your business."

  So much for manners.

  Jamison ground her teeth for a second, but bit back a retort. She was out-numbered and out of her territory. If these shifters wanted, they could make her disappear and disavow any knowledge. They could just say that she never showed up and no one would be the wiser.

  "Panthera representative to speak to Alpha Chiesel."

  "We haven't had Panthera here in years. What do you want?"

  From the speculative look on her face, the sentry was fishing for information. Her authority began and ended with security for the Felidae Coalition, otherwise she'd have been up at the plantation house with the community leader.

  "That is between me and the alpha," Jamison said with a slight growl. She might be a guest, but she knew better than to show any weakness. "Now I suggest you do your job and escort me in."

  "Or what?" the woman asked with a snarl.

  "Cody," one of the men called out from where he still stood by the Armada. "Alpha saw her drive in on the cameras. Do you want to explain that you kept him waiting so you could satisfy your curiosity?"

  Like nearly all shape changers, the three chasovye had hair the color of the lions they'd become if the mood struck them, but the male who spoke to Cody also had facial hair reminiscent of his mane. Jamison wondered if he realized that.

  "Fine. Let her pass."

  The one with the mane climbed into the Armada and backed it into the scrub on the side of the path enough to allow her to get by.

  "Take this road straight to the main house. I don't recommend you deviate from that order in any way."

  Jamison pressed her lips together in irritation, but only nodded. She shifted into drive and started slowly up the path.

  Aggressive little lioness. She'd probably love nothing better than to tear my head off.

  Within a few minutes, the large white house came into view. Although built in a bygone era with tall support columns and a wide, sweeping front porch, the dwelling had none of the class Lee's home displayed. Jamison couldn't prevent a small smile from thinking about the other woman. One day in her company and she knew she was completely captivated; every idle moment was spent wondering what Lee was doing or how she'd react to any given situation. Lee was quickly becoming addictive.

  The weeds were high, but Jamison spotted the rough track leading up to the house. Everything about the grounds spelled neglect. If Cody was any indication, humans wouldn't be allowed anywhere near the property so there was probably no need to keep up appearances. She decided the Felidae just preferred a more natural state on their home ground.

  Home ground isn't quite right, she thought a moment later. This isn't his home, it's their headquarters.

  There were two large metal structures near the side and back of the house. She counted six Felidae walking between the buildings and none of them carried weapons so they couldn't be sentries. Two of those stood to either side of the front door and they were both male. A third female chasovye sat on the bottom step smoking a cigarette. None of them seemed to have the slightest interest in her, which she thought very odd considering the reception at the main road.

  Jamison drove into the central clearing and shut off the motor. She sat for a second to see if anyone would approach, but finally opened the door when no one did. She froze with it cracked only a few inches.

  A beautiful golden lioness in full shift stood right next to her.

  "I'm here to see the alpha," Jamison said carefully. She didn't want this five hundred pound cat to attack, especially since it would take a few moments for her to shift and call on her own natural weapons of tooth and claw.

  The lioness chuffed slightly, a signal that Jamison should continue. When the feline took a few steps back to allow her to move, she stepped out of the vehicle and slammed the door. They all knew she was here, so what was the point of being quiet? She figured she might as well act like she was perfectly comfortable.

  Jamison walked up the front steps past the smoking chasovye and onto the porch. It was then she saw another lioness off to her far right. The female was lying down and had been concealed by the railing. Jamison couldn't help but smile when she saw three cubs tumbling around their mother.

  She met the cat's eye. She sent a mental communication to the content lioness. They're gorgeous.

  Jamison sensed one of the sentries move in her direction and she turned her head. One of the males that had been standing in front of the door was watching her closely. Before his P-90 had been held upright against his shoulder, now he gripped it tightly in both hands as he waited to see what she'd do. His actions were protective, his pheromones just short of aggressive, and she thought the lioness might be his mate. Clearly, he'd eliminate her if he considered her a threat to his family, regardless of the orders from his alpha.

  Jamison realized she had come here with some preconceived notions that lion shifters were naturally more violent than jaguars, like the beasts they shifted into. Now she knew she had been wrong. If anything, t
heir society was constructed as it was because they took no chances where the safety of their members were concerned. That being the case, this male would die on the spot to protect his mate. Literally. If he went against the leader's orders and harmed a diplomatic representative, even to protect his own family, the alpha would have no choice but to take action or lose face. The chasovye would be eliminated or banished.

  "I'd never try to harm them," she assured him, looking deeply into his eyes in reassurance. "You have every right to be proud."

  Jamison averted her gaze first, not out of weakness, but so he'd know she wasn't challenging him. Then she started uninvited toward the front door. The sentry still standing there opened both doors and indicated she should pass. She stepped out of the mid-morning sun and into a wide, open entrance. Unlike Mafdet, this foyer wasn't empty and unlike the grounds, what she could see of the house was in perfect condition. Cushioned chairs and settees were scattered along the walls, obviously intended for use by anyone who chose to do so. At the moment no lions were present, but she didn't think it would stay that way long.

  "Follow me."

  The mated sentry led her away from the entrance and down a long corridor. He stopped in front of thick, double doors and knocked twice.

  "Enter."

  The voice was male and full of confidence. No doubt this was Frank Chiesel. That was another point where the lion community differed from them, she thought. This was a dictatorship that would always be led by a man while the Panthera was led by the pieta and a council comprised of both genders. At the moment, the jaguar elders were dominated by women; four to three.