Have Tail, Will Travel

by Nancey Cummings

  “Not at all. Honestly, it’s nice to have someone do all the tedious stuff like peeling. Do you think he’s too little to learn how to chop?” She buttered a thick slice of bread, dipping the crust into the soup.

  “It’s never too early to hone your knife skills.”

  She snorted. “Anyway, the coughing’s stopped, so they should sleep through the night. I think they’re well enough to go to school tomorrow.”

  Merit looked at his mate. She pushed around a spoon in the bowl but didn’t eat. Dark circles hung under her eyes and she had worn the same tunic two days in a row. His memories from when he was feverish were fuzzy at best. In the last few days, when he had been awake, so had Kal. She spent her time either sanitizing the house for germs, forcing fluid down his gullet, or cooking huge pots of soup. She kept the kits entertained and produced a tissue at the first hint of a sniffle. She doled out cups of tea thick with lemon and honey for their sore throats and coughing. Not once had she complained. Not once had he caught her napping.

  “And you? Have you slept? There’s no point in you wearing yourself out,” he said.

  “I’m resting now,” she replied, eyes on her soup.

  “No, you’re chaperoning me, so I don’t do something silly.”

  “You are prone to fits of absurdity,” she said in a dry tone before cracking a smile.

  Like the sun emerging after a storm, his mood lifted.

  “I’ve got a book I’d like to finish reading,” she said. “How about you chaperone me to ensure that I’m resting?”

  He agreed. After clearing the table, Kal sat at one end of the sofa. He stretched across with his head in her lap.

  “This is nice,” she said, stroking his hair. Her fingers glided over the fine hairs of his ears, causing his tail to curl with relaxed pleasure.

  “No one’s stroked my ears since I was a kit,” he said.

  “I’d suspect that’s why you’re lying like this, but in reality, it’s part of your devious plan to make me sit still, right?”

  “Yes, my head on your lap is to thwart any devious acts of industry. Now tell me what you’re reading.”

  “Oh, just a silly book,” she said. “What kind of books do you read?”

  Her misdirection made him all the more curious. “Read to me, please. I cannot concentrate, but I’d like to listen to your voice.”

  “Okay, but no laughing.”

  “I would not.”

  “This is a type of story called a gothic romance. This girl is destitute and must take a job as a governess for the wards of a doctor that everyone thinks is a murderer. He’s not, because he’s the love interest, but he acts suspiciously. She just started working at his house, and the maid tells her about the governess who vanished, the one the heroine replaced,” Kal said. She held her reader in one hand, flipping the pages until she found a good spot to start reading.

  Merit quickly found himself engrossed in the story. The weather always seemed to rain, with thunder violently clapping and lightning illuminating shadowy figures in the hallway. Every doorknob rattled. The steps creaked at night from unseen visitors. The doctor took the carriage out in the middle of the night and returned covered in blood. A portrait of a dark-haired female hung above the mantle, his long-dead love. Merit envisioned Kal as the lost love, with her dark hair loose about her shoulders and eyes filled with sorrow. It was just as easy to picture himself as the doctor, a male haunted by his past.

  Despite believing the doctor to be a dangerous man, the governess found herself falling in love.

  Falling in love. That’s what humans called it when they carried each other’s hearts, Merit learned, filing the phrase away.

  Love and fear of the doctor torment the governess in their conflict, until she finally confronted the male. He explained some of the damning evidence, but the governess knew he withheld some of the truth. She despaired because if he truly loved her, he would trust her with his secrets.

  Merit jolted with uncomfortable recognition.

  Idiot.

  If he could go back in time a few weeks, he’d take his younger self by the ear and force himself to kneel in submission. Amity had warned him. He was a massive fool.

  “Are you still listening?” she asked.

  He sat up, the blood rushing to his head. “I owe you an apology.”

  “If it’s about playing nursemaid, don’t fret. Kids get sick. It’s all part of the better-or-for-worse deal,” she said.

  He slid to the floor, kneeling at her feet. He placed both hands on her knees.

  “Are you okay? What’s going on?” She pressed a hand to his forehead. “You’re a little warm, but I don’t think the fever is back.”

  “It is not a fever.” Not in that sense. “Do you remember the night you overheard Amity and me?”

  “I remember,” she said, caution in her voice.

  “I am like the doctor in your story.” His tail wrapped around her ankle, despite for contact and forgiveness. His ears pressed flat with shame.

  “Sure, you’ve come home covered in gore a few times, but it’s not a big deal.”

  “I have not been entirely honest with you,” he said. She tensed under his hands. “During the war. No, that’s not the beginning. There is a mutation in some Tal that allows us to gain strength in battle.”

  “Go on,” she said.

  “A person with the mutation produces an excess of hormones. It changes their body. Makes them stronger, increases their endurance and accelerates their healing. We call it bloodlust. When it happens, a warrior becomes unstoppable. Our oldest myths and legends celebrate warriors who had this trait. But the mutation is rare. The government wanted to create their own bloodlust warriors.”

  Concern flickered across her face. “I don’t like where this story is headed.”

  “I was young and wanted glory, so I volunteered.”

  “Did it work?”

  He nodded. “Better than they expected. I am transformed. I gain muscle mass and grow a few inches taller, if you can believe that.”

  “I really can’t.”

  “But there’s no off switch,” he said. “The serum was supposed to diminish with time, but in certain males, like myself, my body kept producing the hormones. It builds up until I must purge it from my system.”

  Her hands covered his. He looked up, hopeful. Her eyes searched his face. “I’m assuming that a purge is violent?”

  “Yes. Any small irritation can set it off. That is why I moved to Corra.”

  “To fight mornclaws,” she said, understanding dawning.

  “Better them than an innocent. The incident–” He paused, reluctant to share his darkest moment but committed to honesty with his mate. “My leg was not injured by rebels. It was friendly fire.”

  Her brows lifted in surprise. “Your own squad shot you?”

  “I couldn’t stop, you see. The bloodlust had me, and I was so far into the red that I didn’t care who I fought, so long as the fight continued.” He had not been that out of control in several years, but he often went alone on mornclaw hunts, just in case. “The bloodlust continues until there is no one left. They had to stop me.”

  Kal put the pieces together quickly. “It still happens, doesn’t it? That’s why you vanish for days, and no one at the Watchtower seems bothered. They know.”

  “They know. They use drones to keep track and record me. I’m not safe to be around when I’m lost to the red.”

  “The day you came back after the storm, you couldn’t retract your claws,” she said.

  “Yes,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “The bloodlust craves not only violence but also sex. I should have told you. Forgive me.”

  “It is something you should have mentioned before we made love. What a shitty thing to do,” Kal said, irritation creeping into her voice. She tried to pull her hands from his, but he held her tight. “Were you dangerous then? Now? Are you going to lose it if we have a row?”

  “No. Never with you.�

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  Her eyes narrowed. “You just told me that your government used an experimental serum on the man I love and turned you into a killing machine with no off switch. You expect me to believe you’re as harmless as a basket of kittens?”

  His ears perked, and his tail wagged with excitement. She loved him, but he could not rejoice. Not yet. He had one last confession. “Originally, I planned to keep my distance. Like the doctor in your book, I wanted a governess for the children, nothing more.” His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. “But I was drawn to you immediately. I wanted more than a governess. I wanted you, body and soul. I fell in love.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Are you only telling me all this because you’re whacked out on decongestant?”

  “I’m a poor excuse for a mate, I’ll admit, and I need you more than you need me. You deserve respect, and I should start showing some.”

  Her hand drifted to his ears again, stroking the fine hair. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her hand. “I already told you I’m not interested in being your nanny.”

  “I know.”

  “And I don’t like the half-truths,” she said. “But now a lot of things make sense. Did you know that Sigald and Ulmer keep checking on me? Trying to determine if you’ve gone nutty, I imagine.”

  “I did not know.” His tail had a mind of its own and slid around her ankle.

  “And that was a shitty thing to do. To be honest, we were going to shag that night, and didn’t have time for a biology lesson, but I don’t appreciate you dropping this bomb and immediately telling me that you love me. It feels manipulative.” Before he could explain, she continued, “I know I have a history of overreacting. I had a humiliating date, and I decided to marry a stranger.”

  Much to his benefit.

  “Did you really think I’d reject you because of your injury?”

  “The bloodlust is not my injury,” he said.

  “Yes, it is. They changed your body, as irrevocably as shrapnel to your knee, but they didn’t change your heart.” She pressed the flat of her palm against his chest. “And I love your heart.”

  “You carry my heart.” He said it from the start, and it grew truer every day. He loved her completely and would love her until the light left his eyes.

  He dug his fingers into her plait, working her hair loose. She shook her head, and her hair tumbled down around her shoulders. He groaned at the sight.

  His beautiful Kalini.

  “I love you, too,” she said, pressing a tender kiss to his lips.

  “You don’t care about the bloodlust? I go into an uncontrollable rage. You’re not safe with me.”

  “I’ve seen you plenty upset with Amity and at your wits’ end with the kits. You haven’t turned into a murder machine yet.” She glanced over his shoulder, toward the stairs.

  Did she hear the kits get out of bed? His ears swiveled back, listening.

  “Besides,” she continued, “if you really believed that, you’d have sent the kits off with Amity, instead of fighting to keep them. So, no, I don’t believe you’re as dangerous as you say. Not to the people you love.”

  She believed that now, but Merit knew that if she saw him, the real him, she’d pack a bag and run away for good.

  He nearly lost her once by doing what he thought best to protect her. She didn’t know what she asked for, but if he kept her at a physical and emotional distance, he’d lose her just the same.

  He found himself in a no-win situation. Their halcyon days would eventually end. The best he could do would be to enjoy them before the bitter winter arrived.

  He surged up and pushed her back until she lay flat. He planted a hand on either side of her head and loomed over her. Already hard, he ground his cock against her. Her hips lifted, interested.

  She stared up at him and licked her bottom lip. “You’re still recovering.”

  “Kitten, I have a fever, and the only cure is you.”

  Her eyes went wide, and she let loose a gorgeous laugh. With one hand, she pushed him off. He rolled to his side, gracefully rising on both feet.

  “Let’s go to bed before you ruin the mood with another cheesy pickup line,” she said.

  At the foot of the stairs, she paused, her back rigid. “Oh! I just realized.”

  She dashed into the kitchen and retrieved a tablet. Her fingers flew across the screen, numbers scrolled by. “I’ll need to double check the translations, but I think I managed it correctly.”

  He tried to make sense of what was on the screen, but she worked her way through the figures too quickly.

  Finally, she looked up. “Someone is stealing from you, Merit.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kalini

  Two Weeks Later

  Kal double- and triple-checked her figures. She didn’t doubt her math, but she doubted her translations. After poring over purchasing invoices and spreadsheets, she knew the written Corravian for nearly everything in the Watchtower. She claimed a desk and pulled in people to help her understand how supply requisition worked. Other than the medical clinic and the canteen, everything went through Merit, which was a terrible system. He spent more time in the field than at a desk. Requests took forever because he simply never looked at them.

  “This is chaos,” she told him, from across the desk in the office she acquired. She settled in with her tablet, notebooks, and teacup, and no one questioned her. In fact, the other Hunters acted as if she had always been part of the team, dropping in to see if she wanted anything from the canteen. At first, she suspected it was because of her relationship to the boss. As purchasing requests started arriving, it became obvious the attention was due to the Hunters’ genuine excitement to having their requests processed quickly. They needed someone to manage inventory, and she fell into the role.

  “Does anyone actually track what comes in?” She pushed a stack of invoices toward him. “Someone signed off on these as having no issue, yet the figures don’t tally. We pay for a certain amount, we’re shipped less than what we pay for, and no one thought to open up a crate and count?”

  “We’re busy,” Merit replied. He thumbed through the invoices before tossing them back on the desk. “They say they ship the correct amount, I believe them. I’m not wasting my time double-checking.”

  “No, you’d rather waste your time and credits ordering more,” she picked up the top slip of paper and enunciated each word carefully, “bendable LED lights.”

  “Those get damaged,” he said.

  She sighed. “Fine. Some of these are consumable but what about the windscreens? You ordered two, and they only sent one.”

  “It broke.”

  “What?”

  “The replacement already broke,” he clarified.

  Kal shuffled through the invoices, searching for the windscreen. “That shouldn’t be. The material is rated for space travel. It can enter the atmosphere and not suffer a scratch, but you managed to break it in a month?”

  “The mornclaws pack a wallop,” he explained.

  “Yes, and you kill them with your claws. How can they shatter a windscreen that can go into orbit? Do they spit acid?”

  “Not that I’m aware.”

  She pinched the brow of her nose. This problem had so many facets. Even if she tamed the ordering and inventory system, the Hunters legitimately went through supplies like water. “Then all I can think of is that you’re not getting what you paid for. Someone is replacing parts with a cheaper version, a knockoff.”

  Merit shifted forward in his seat. “Someone here?”

  Kal paused, considering his question. “No. I wouldn’t think so. Everyone knows about your, um, condition. They wouldn’t risk it.”

  If they were smart. Someone dumb and greedy might risk it. And how smart did they really have to be to scam Merit? He loathed paperwork and signed practically anything. Maybe the thief didn’t need to be smart, just short-sighted and greedy.

  She needed to get a better idea of where the money vanished before she could start speculating as to the culprit, or culprits.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Sigald answered. “Hey, boss. We’re heading out to the shindig. Don’t forget.”

  “I will not,” Merit said.

  “Is Belith on her way?” Kal asked. Belith took the kits that morning and promised to bring them to the festivities to celebrate the unification of Corra. All schools and businesses were closed due to the holiday. Drac held a community-wide celebration with games, entertainment, and friendly competitions held near the Crystal Caverns. It sounded like a fun fair to Kal, which she wholeheartedly embraced.

  “Yes, but I should warn you that she is not happy about you working on a holiday,” Sigald said. “Something about a workaholic and an enabler.”

  Merit growled, but Sigald ignored him. “Did you get my purchase request, Kal? I want to stock up on the necessities. Summer’s nearly over, and winter comes fast. Sometimes the roads are impassable.”

  “I don’t actually work here,” she said.

  “But you ordered it, right? I don’t want to ration kava again this winter.”

  She tossed a look to Merit. “It is like your tea,” he explained. “Sigald is addicted.”

  “The caffeine is necessary for a long shift. That swill the Corravians drink is nothing compared to good, strong Fremmian kava,” Sigald said.

  “Meaning it’s so thick you can stand a spoon up in it,” Merit said. He waved a hand at his friend. “We’ll order it, but it’s for the Watchtower, not just you. Share.”

  “If you’re male enough to drink it, I’ll share. I know you prefer your herbal teas.” Sigald grimaced, like he had a bad taste in his mouth.

  “Because I respect my body. I am a fine-tuned, highly trained warrior,” Merit said calmly. “You, you’re just big.”

  Sigald belted out a laugh, his entire body shaking. “That’s what your mother said last night.”

  A look of distaste crossed Merit’s face. His ears went flat, and he rumbled in warning. Sigald went a bridge too far. Kal pushed her chair back, the tension making her antsy.

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