Under the Midnight Cloak

by S. Y. Thompson

  "I wouldn't want you near any cubs; you're a bad influence," she heard Jamison say sharply.

  Her comment told Lee that she knew the beast and that the creature wasn't a common garden-variety jaguar. He was a Panthera. Regardless, that didn't mean he wasn't dangerous. She could see both of them now and was about to call out when the cat struck, catapulting his strong, sturdy body toward Jamison at an alarming rate. Lee screamed out a warning and then froze as events unfolded in a way she never could have foreseen.

  It all happened so quickly, yet at the same time it felt like time was suspended. She saw every detail clearly, heard the sound of clothing torn asunder as Jamison changed before her eyes. Her face flattened and lifted, cheeks rounded as whiskers sprouted, teeth erupted into fiercely sharp weapons of destruction. Lee heard the bones in Jamison's body snap wetly as they reformed. Her spine elongated into a supple tail. The coat was black, yet her rosettes were midnight against the inky pelt, still distinct even in the muted light under the trees.

  Then the two cats were dueling, teeth ripping and claws tearing as each sought to gain the upper hand. Snarls and growls filled the air. Jamison clamped down on the other jaguar's neck but he shook her off, falling onto his back with the effort. The black cat pounced on him, seeking the advantage of having him under her, but the tawny animal was too fast for that. He raised his hind legs and dug in, trying to disembowel Jamison. Blood soaked the ground under the combatants and Jamison howled in pain, but still they fought.

  No, not Jamison. She's one of them?

  Cleo's loud baying distracted Lee from the tableau and she looked down to see the beagle beside her. She must have come out through the dog door and followed her into the woods.

  Lee grabbed the dog and held Cleo against her as she ran back to the house, a strong sense of betrayal flooding her system along with adrenaline and fear. She needed to get away, from Harmon and all this death. From Jamison. Coherent thought was beyond her at the moment. Lee jumped into the battered brown pickup and sat Cleo beside her. She was vaguely aware of her breath bursting from her in agonized whimpers as she dug for the keys in her front pocket. It took three tries to get the truck going, but then she was flying down the dirt lane. Lee didn't check before pulling onto the blacktop and was almost side-swiped by a passing car. The driver lay on the horn and flipped her off, but she wasn't paying attention. What she'd seen in the woods kept playing in her head like a bad B-movie.

  It was a full ten minutes before her heart rate began to slow and her brain began functioning at a higher level than sheer instinct. She was just outside Harmon, her final destination her father's mansion in New York, when she remembered Debbie. The woman was still waiting for an answer from her and though her response wasn't in question, Lee owed it to Debbie to let her know she was leaving town, especially since Debbie was planning to stay until they talked. Now there was no reason for either of them to hang around.

  Lee pulled to a screeching halt in front of the Harmon Arms Bed and Breakfast, garnering a few curious looks. She left the window partially rolled down and ordered Cleo to stay while she went inside. Debbie had told her room number three, but she didn't know what floor that would be on so she stopped by the registration desk. It didn't take long to discover it was on the second floor and wasn't hard to find. Lee took a calming breath prior to knocking. The last thing she wanted to do was panic her ex, but it turned out not to be a concern when no one answered. She tried twice more, knocking louder, but still there was no response. Finally, Lee went downstairs and approached the young woman behind the desk. She looked like she was barely out of high school, with frizzy brown hair. Her nametag read 'Bernie'.

  "Hi, I'm looking for the woman registered in room number three?"

  Bernie's eyes lit up. "The one driving the Porsche? She left early this morning, about six o'clock."

  "She never came back?" Lee was really worried until the young woman replied.

  "No, but Ms. Mason said something about shopping in Lake Placid today."

  Debbie did love Nordstrom and though Lee didn't think anything would have been open when she left the manor, she wouldn't put anything past her. Debbie didn't exactly march to the beat of an everyday drummer.

  "Do you think I could leave a message?"

  "Sure." Bernie grabbed a pad and a pen. "What do you want it to say?"

  Lee considered the question. She couldn't say, I don't love you, but I wanted you to know I've flown the coop and headed to New York. I suggest you do the same.

  "Just tell her I've gone back to my dad's house. She'll know what it means."

  "Will do," Bernie said easily and offered her a smile.

  Lee was still too upset to return the gesture believably, but she tried before she left and got back into the truck headed for the Big Apple.

  THE CHILL OF damp evening air caressed her skin, rousing her slowly. Gradually she felt small rocks digging into her naked flesh. Jamison groaned and struggled onto her hands and knees. She wobbled a little, but finally managed to stand. Pain lanced through her body and she discovered that her torso was covered in blood. It had coagulated and dried, some of it trailing down her left leg. Dalton had tried to eviscerate her and from the looks of it he had almost succeeded. She remembered wounding him in return and then he'd fled into the woods. Exactly how badly he was injured she didn't know. She was more concerned with Lee, where she was and how she was reacting to what she had witnessed. At the moment she and Dalton clashed, Jamison heard Lee's shouted warning. She was also aware of the exact second Lee had turned and run from her, carrying Cleo in her arms. Jamison was desperate to try and explain, to make things right between them but she could barely stand. Everything was blurry at the outer edges of her field of vision.

  Jamison grunted as she gathered her tattered clothing and stumbled back through the woods toward the house. It was the middle of the night and the manor was dark, the front door standing ajar. She really hadn't expected Lee to be here calmly waiting for her to return, but she wasn't sure where she'd gone. Maybe Lee took Sheriff Macke's advice and rented a room at the &B. B

  Leaving damp footprints from the blood and dew across the wooden floor, Jami staggered toward Lee's bedroom. She planned to take a shower, borrow some clothing and try to find Lee. Nothing else was more important. She hadn't managed more than a dozen steps before she started getting dizzy.

  Blood loss, she thought just before she fell unconscious to the floor.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  LEE KEPT WIPING the tears of hurt and anger away as she drove. All along she had been trying to figure out what was going on, running her theories past Jamison while Jamison knew the truth and kept it from her. Did she really plan on telling Lee everything or was it just a delaying tactic while she thought of something plausible that would still throw her off the trail?

  Could she believe anything Jami had said?

  Throughout the four-hour drive Lee kept turning it over and over in her head. She'd already started to come to terms with the Panthera and their abilities. She had accepted an eccentric raccoon and acknowledged that her aunt, and by extension she, herself, was one of the shape changers, and now none of it mattered. She was finished with all of them.

  It broke her heart to think of never seeing Jamison again, but what was love without trust?

  Lee pulled into the circular drive of her father's New York mansion. She stopped and put the truck in park, but it died with a loud backfire before she could touch the key. The front door opened and Davis stepped out with a cautious expression on his face. She got out of the vehicle and offered him a smile.

  "Hi, Davis, how have you been?" Cleo raced past her and wriggled around the man in her excitement.

  "Welcome home, Miss Grayson. I must say, it's been quite dull without you." He bent down and picked up Cleo, scratching her under the chin with his white-gloved hand. "Your father should be home momentarily."

  "Wonderful, just in time," she muttered under her breath. "Can this day get a
ny better?"

  "Miss?"

  "Never mind. Could you see that Hector gets his truck back? This thing is a piece of junk."

  Lee started up the stairs but didn't miss the smile on his face.

  "Of course. I'll see to it. Dinner is in one hour. Will you be down or should I bring something to your room?"

  Eating downstairs meant joining her father in the formal dining room, a chore she abhorred at the best of times. "I'm not hungry. I'll stop by the kitchen later if I want something. All I need is a drink and a hot shower."

  He tipped his head and sat Cleo on the floor. "In that case, I'll just take Miss Cleo for a walk."

  "Thank you, Davis."

  Cleo trotted happily along with him while Lee headed into the library. There was a large snifter of brandy with her name on it. She had just poured her drink and taken a healthy swig when the door opened and her father walked in. He didn't see her at first and Lee took the opportunity to study him.

  Senator Douglas Grayson came from old money and it showed in his genteel mannerisms, the same courtliness that supposedly won her mother's heart. He was an older man, nearer to Aunt Chris' age than to Marina's. His hair more silver than brown, stress lines marred his face. Even now, away from work, a perpetual scowl marred his brow and gave him a stern appearance. Lee knew it was more than superficial though. He had always been a serious man with little time for humor or compassion. She couldn't remember a time when he had truly laughed, every gesture of happiness an affectation for some visiting constituent or the latest fundraiser.

  Would things have been different if her mother had stayed? Would she have returned contrite and begging forgiveness for her transgressions if a car crash hadn't claimed her life five years after leaving? Lee didn't really remember her mother, just an impression of a blonde-haired smiling woman with the bluest eyes. What she did recall left her with the feeling that her mother had been a carefree young woman who enjoyed life and Lee wondered what would compel Marina to become involved with the bitter man standing before her now. They were such opposites Lee could understand her leaving, but why hadn't she taken her daughter with her? Why hadn't she told Lee about the world she came from? Marina could have mentioned the strength that flowed in their veins, stemming from abilities nature had long since taken from the common human. Lee realized that if her mother had mentioned these things at a young age, she might have embraced them rather than run in terror from the woman she loved.

  Her father came to an abrupt halt and looked up, surprised by her appearance and apparently not very pleased about it. The frown on his face deepened.

  "Hello, Father."

  He cleared his throat. "I thought you were hell bent on taking over the Mafdet estate."

  He didn't ask why she had returned, but it was implied. "What, I can't come back to visit?"

  She took another long sip of the brandy, feeling the heat burn all the way into the pit of her stomach. Lee had planned to stay here when she left Harmon, but just a few moments with her father told her that couldn't happen. She refused to remain in a home where she'd never felt welcome. What had been a refuge suddenly became a way-station. Lee had left the manor with only the clothes on her back. She would stay the night and decide where to go in the morning, but she had been presented with an unexpected opportunity. Her aunt's letter implied that Douglas Grayson knew all about the Panthera and didn't approve. Now was her chance to find out.

  "I do have some questions for you, if you don't mind?" Her tone was aggravated and challenging, just the kind to induce someone cut from Grayson's cloth to get his hackles up and make him refuse to back down. "It has to do with Mom's family."

  Douglas helped himself to a brandy and then moved away from Lee to stand beside the fire. Fall in New York was cold by most standards and the flames were welcome in the mansion with its vaulted ceilings.

  "We agreed a long time ago not to talk about that," he said, his back to her.

  "No," she said. "I was just a kid when she left and I never agreed to anything. As usual, you laid down the law and that was the end of it."

  "And nothing has changed to alter that arrangement. She's still gone, dead now. There's no point in resurrecting old ghosts."

  "What about new ones?" Lee said softly. "I found some of Aunt Chris' belongings when I was cleaning out the manor." He stood silently and she realized he was waiting to find out what she knew before he committed to the discussion. "I know what Mom was, what I am."

  "You're nothing like those creatures!" he roared and threw the crystal glass into the fire. Flames shot from the fireplace, dying down in seconds as he spun around to confront her. "When I found out about those people I was disgusted. At first I didn't believe Marina, then she showed me her true form and I thought I would puke. I had lain with an animal, sired a child by her."

  "You told her to leave," Lee realized. "It wasn't her choice."

  "What did you think I would do? She wasn't normal. I told her to get out. She tried to take you with her, but I wasn't going to let her corrupt my daughter."

  Lee felt vindication that her mother wanted her, that she hadn't left voluntarily. All the guilt she'd harbored her entire life, believing that she was somehow to blame, faded away to meaningless vapor. But she was also enraged that her father was so sickened by the Panthera. Lee wasn't very happy with Jamison and the deception, but she thought their ability to change was an amazing gift. That he judged an entire community and found them lacking for simply being themselves was outrageous. How would he feel if he found out Lee had inherited more than her mother's looks?

  She finished her drink and set the glass on the sideboard. "Thank you, Father. What I discovered was so hard to accept, but now you've confirmed it. I just wish you'd told me the truth sooner. I wish anyone had told me."

  "Why? You were an impressionable girl and I didn't want you getting any romantic notions about what your mother was."

  "She was my mother," Lee shouted. "I deserved to know the truth."

  "Well now you do. So what are you going to do about it?"

  The question effectively dissipated the fury and Lee thought carefully for a few seconds. "Truthfully, I don't know, but you won't have to worry. I'll get the rest of my things and be out of your hair some time tomorrow."

  "You don't have to leave, you know." He sipped his brandy. "You're still a Grayson and this is your home."

  "Actually, I'm a Mafdet and this was never my home."

  Lee left him standing by the fireplace. He could take her comment any way he wanted, but she realized her father would probably refuse to accept that her blood could be tainted by an animal.

  JAMISON AWAKENED SLOWLY, her cheek pressed against something cold and hard. It took a moment to realize she was lying naked in Mafdet's entryway. She vaguely recalled going in search of Lee only to find the manor empty. Then the room began to spin and everything went dark.

  She stood and focused on the old grandfather clock, feeling sturdier than she had previously. It was nearing two a.m. and Jamison was desperate to find both Lee and Dalton, though for very different reasons. She looked down to see that the injury was much better, the flesh knit back together but still very raw. Thank the Great Mother for accelerated healing.

  Jamison took a quick shower and borrowed some clothing from Lee's closet. Lee was a little shorter so the pants rode a bit high, but the shirt was a perfect fit. Unfortunately, Lee's shoes were much too small. She had to make a stop by her own house to change anyway before she could begin searching. Lee must have been so frightened, witnessing the shift and the brutal altercation between herself and Dalton. It wasn't exactly the way she planned for Lee to find out. She just needed a chance to explain, to come clean about everything and hope Lee would forgive her.

  What would I say? I got into a fight with a subordinate and had my ass handed to me?

  Jamison didn't have proof of any wrongdoing, only her suspicions. Until she did, she needed to keep all of this to herself. She was ashamed she'd let th
e man goad her into losing control and refused to be caught off guard by him again.

  She limped into the kitchen, thinking about what her next step should be. She was hungry and thirsty from shifting in and out of jaguar form and the first thing she needed to do was recharge her own batteries. Her body burned a tremendous amount of energy converting matter and rearranging her form at the cellular level. She snatched a can of Pepsi from the fridge and downed it in one long swallow, savoring the immediate sugar rush. Then a platter of roast beef covered in plastic wrap caught her eye. She sat it on the table, tore off the covering and devoured half of it with her bare hands. When she finished, she felt a little sheepish about her actions, but so much better that she didn't let it bother her for long. She found a rag by the sink, wet it and cleaned up her mess. Returning the leftovers to the refrigerator, Jamison took another can of soda and drank it much more slowly. She threw both empty cans into the recycle bin and left the house, a plan having formed while she ate.

  An hour later, she drove through the woods north of Harmon toward Aaron Dalton's home. She had tried to call Lee twice, but there was no answer so she'd left voicemail messages, but wasn't hopeful that Lee would respond. She pushed thoughts of the incredible woman out of her mind, determined not to be distracted with something she couldn't change. Aaron's behavior was another matter. That was something she could investigate.

  It was too early in the morning to start checking area hotels, but it was the perfect time to snoop around Dalton's place and find out what he was up to. She thought it was more than a simple matter of a difference of opinion.

  Just thinking of his threats against Lee was enough to set her blood boiling and she had to clamp down on her response. She couldn't afford to confront him again in rage. She would find him, make sure he wasn't involved with the predator and then she would make sure he would never become a danger to anyone else. She owed Lee that much.