Blood of the Pride

by Sheryl Nantus

  We rolled into Parkdale, one of the poorer Toronto neighborhoods. In a nearby darkened stairwell a man rocked back and forth, clutching his arms around his middle. Probably a heroin addict. It was a popular spot to hide in the shadows, shoot up and then go visiting the gods. My favorite reporter was nowhere in sight when I reached up to tap the bell cord, signaling my stop.

  The 24/7 convenience store had a neon sign announcing FRE H COF E and DO UTS, both of which I sure didn’t need. A trio of teenagers hung out in front of the store smoking cigarettes someone else must have bought for them. One glared at me through long greasy locks screaming for a shampoo and a buzz cut. I glared back and he shuffled closer to the neon sign.

  The walk down the street to the house was quiet and longer than it needed to be, with my thoughts racing all over the place. It wouldn’t be difficult to get hold of the Board and ask for information on all the members who were tall enough to meet my requirements—there weren’t a lot of Felis over six feet high—but it was going to be a bitch to quietly investigate the suspects to find out who killed Janey. I’d end up in more challenges than I could imagine or handle. You can’t just suggest that someone’s involved in the killing of another Felis and not be prepared to back that up with either hard evidence or your fists.

  Unfortunately, part of life in the Pride included challenges. I was pretty sure that was how Jess had received that nasty scar—probably some kit figuring he’d move up in the ranks by taking on the Old Lady. No one actually died in the challenges, but there were some injuries that could last a lifetime. I wouldn’t be able to withstand a single challenge.

  I walked up the small sidewalk to the house, noting that the rose bushes were blooming yet again. Unlike some of my brethren I had little to no skills when it came to gardening, but somehow these red beauties had kept on going.

  The lock was firm under my fingers with the deadbolt sliding back with a resounding thud. It refastened with a swift twist of my wrist after I stepped inside, securing the front door again.

  “Nice place. Although those roses could use a little pruning…”

  I spun around and whipped the taser out of my pocket. It was just slightly illegal.

  “Whoa!” Bran lifted his hands from where he had been standing just inside the doorway. An impish grin spread across his face. “Plenty of space here. I’m not crowding you at all.”

  “How the hell did you get in here?” I glanced back at the deadbolt. “You broke into my house?”

  He let his hands drop down to his sides. “No, not technically. See, I didn’t actually ‘break’ anything. One credit card and the door gave up her secrets willingly.” His hands shot back up as I took a step forward. “By the way, that white cat of yours? Not much of an attack cat. Welcomed me in and showed me where you kept her treats. She’s pretty easy to bribe, that one.” As if on cue Jazz appeared, winding her way around his legs with a loud, gravelly purr.

  “Traitor,” I growled to the cat. “We’ll talk later.” I returned my attention to the grinning reporter. “How did you get here ahead of me?” I kept my finger on the trigger.

  “I took a taxi. Cost a few bucks, but well worth it.” He waved a single finger toward the door. “I’m good with my fingers but not fast. Keep that in mind.”

  “How did you know where I lived?” I didn’t drop my arm a fraction, keeping the weapon firmly aimed at his chest. It wouldn’t kill him but it’d be a heck of an ending to the night.

  “I’m an investigative reporter. I investigated.” Bran dropped his hands. “Now if you’re finished with the temper tantrum, I thought we’d get some rest before striking out on your next part of the investigation.”

  “What?” The Taser didn’t move. “What are you talking about?”

  Bran let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I’m no rookie to this. You agree to let me in on the story, you dump me, you ‘forget’ to tell me what’s going on.” He shucked his duster and hung it on the ancient hat rack behind him in the corner. “You don’t trust me, I don’t trust you but there’s a story here and I’m not going away until I get the scoop on this woman’s killer.” He rubbed his hands together and beamed his best smile at me. “So, how about I make us up some decaf to go to bed with and we’ll continue this in the morning?” One edge of his mouth turned up in a sly smile.

  A deep throbbing started behind my left eye. “We are not ‘going to bed.’ I am going to go upstairs to my bedroom and you are welcome to suffer down here with the cat and a lumpy couch.” I lowered the Taser. “I don’t have any coffee. You’re welcome to some of the herbal teas, for what that’s worth.”

  “Excellent.” He strode through the living room and threw open my office door, continuing to the small kitchen in the back. “Peppermint would be great right about now, I think, unless you have some ginger spice, which is excellent for digestion.”

  I pulled off my jacket, closing my eyes and trying to will the headache away. “Yes, yes it would be.” I hung it on the hook next to his jacket and leaned on the wall with one hand, wondering if I could hide a body as well as I did the rabbit’s foot. With a nasty glare at Jazz, I made my way upstairs.

  The smell of peppermint drifted up the stairs while I changed out of my work clothes into a baggy sweatshirt and sweat pants, dark gray and filled with more holes than a piece of Swiss cheese.

  I put the small baggie on my desk and booted up the computer. Thankfully the files Jess had given me were up here, safe and sound and away from a prying reporter’s eyes.

  I picked up my land phone line, the old rotary I’d rescued from a garage sale years ago. My fingers dialed in the contact phone number Jess had given me.

  “Yeah?” She answered on the first ring.

  “I have something for you. For the Board.” I drew a deep breath. “Janey was definitely killed by one of the Felis, not a human. One of the family. I have a hair sample here that’s definitely not hers.”

  Jess’s gruff voice rolled through the air. “And the cops don’t know?”

  “Even if they found the hair it’s likely it’d be identified as feline and they’d drop it as a lead. No one’s looking for cat people. Well, no one who’s sane.” I picked up the bag and studied the contents. “I also know it’s a male, a tall male.” I pursed my lips before continuing. “And it wasn’t Dennis. I didn’t recognize the scent.”

  “Ah.” There was no surprise in the voice, no disappointment. “And Mike?”

  “Mike says that she wasn’t having an affair.” I left out the part where he almost Changed in public and challenged me. “From what I can gather she was too busy to have one. She was a good wife who got lured into the alleyway by one of the family for some reason and was killed.”

  “Good work.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood at the compliment. She didn’t do compliments too often. “Keep us updated, please.”

  “The killer was the one who took the photograph.”

  A long minute of silence drummed through the phone line.

  “Fuck,” Jess said. “One of us.”

  “One of you,” I replied. “Is there any way you can get me a list of all Felis men that are close to six feet tall?”

  “That’s all you got so far, that he’s tall?” Jess sighed. “I’ll take it up with the Board.”

  “The clock is ticking and every minute means this guy could be getting further and further away from us. You’re not making this easy.”

  “Never said it was going to be.” Her voice drizzled out across the line like slow honey. “Besides, that’s not going to give you much of a lead. Heck, the guy could have been wearing lifts. I’ll do the best I can, but you know how we operate.”

  It was a battle I couldn’t win. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be in touch when I have more.”

  I hung up the phone and put both hands to my temples, rubbing them as hard as I could. The headache was threatening to break into a major migraine and while I had meds to take the edge off, I wasn’t about to dull my senses even for a
few hours. I couldn’t risk it, not if I was going to have to go up against one of my own.

  The aroma of peppermint grew stronger, the richness helping alleviate the pain just a bit. I dropped my hands to my desktop and took deep breaths, closing my eyes and focusing on the pleasant odor.

  The pressure returned to my temples, a light circular rubbing, almost tickling. Except my hands were still on the desk and I wasn’t blessed with extra digits.

  My eyes shot open to focus on the steaming hot mug of peppermint tea sitting in front of me and the man standing behind me, his fingers stroking and pressing in all the right places.

  “Bad headache, eh? I can believe it.” Bran leaned forward, peering at the display on my office phone. “So, who you been calling?”

  I resisted the temptation to fling him over my shoulder and smash the desk with his lifeless body. His touch was just so good on my skin right now, massaging away my annoyance in seconds. “That is my client and none of your business. That whole confidentiality thing? You know?”

  “Oh, sure—throw that in my face.” The pressure ebbed, shifting down to my neck and shoulders where he pressed down, rotating his fingers around on the fabric. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  I drew in a deep breath, tasting the peppermint on my tongue. Mixed in there was the heady scent of Bran, leaning in and whispering the words in my ear. This was not good. More so because I had subconsciously ignored him coming up the stairs, marking him as friend instead of foe.

  “Thanks for the tea.” I stumbled over the words, pushing the pain back into the dark recesses of my mind. “However, I think it’d be best for us both if you went downstairs and took up residence on my couch. Sorry there’s no television down there. There’s a radio if you’re desperate for information.” A shiver ran up my spine, tickling the nerves. It’d been a long time since I’d had some nice touching.

  “No problem. I’ve got one of those newfangled contraption cell phones that gets everything. The internet, MP3 player, the whole shebang.” He stopped kneading my shoulders, now just resting his hands on my gray shirt. “You know, we’d work better together if you didn’t see me as the enemy.”

  I held back a sigh, wanting his hands back on my bare skin. He’d triggered an itch I wanted him to scratch. If he only knew how much he had already worked his way into my system…

  “Until the end of this case you are, by definition, the enemy.” I exhaled the words, hating every one.

  “Your call.” The heat left my shoulders, sending another shiver across my skin. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.” The stairs creaked with his departure. “Just don’t try to sneak out on me. I don’t really sleep these days. I catnap.”

  I couldn’t help smiling, wrapping my hands around the mug and taking a deep pepperminty breath. My eyes flashed for a second to the Winters file, safe on my desk away from Bran’s prying eyes. Last thing I needed was some outsider trying to make sense of a Pride file.

  “This case is going to kill me,” I murmured to the empty room. I picked up the mug and shuffled to the double bed, tossing back the thick, light-blue comforter with one hand and dumping the two pillow shams onto the floor. The mug went onto the nightstand as I pulled the sheet back. I reached for the remote and turned on the television, setting the volume low and finding a local news channel to drone in the background.

  I sipped the tea and pondered my next move. There was no way I could investigate every man who met the height requirement, even if they sent me a list right away. I could petition the Board to have a Grand Meeting, bring everyone together and let me just look across the crowd to see the tallest men, but it was only called for extreme measures.

  Such as declaring one of their own outcast.

  I wondered if a Felis killing another Felis ranked as high.

  I frowned, pushing the memories out of reach. One hand put the near-empty mug on the night table, the other turned the light off. I snuggled down under the thin sheet and tried not to think too hard.

  The alleys were dark, dank and smelled like fresh urine. I ran down one narrow corridor, paused at an intersection and then turned on my heel to charge down the other, feeling the hot breath of a hunter on the back of my neck. He growled once, letting me know he wasn’t in a rush to finish the hunt. A claw reached out and ripped the shirt from my right arm while I charged into another alley, searching for a way out. The moon was full in the sky over us and filled the brick walls with misty shadows and distorted shapes.

  He smelled like garbage, old jeans, sweaty underwear and moldy cheese dipped in turpentine. I coughed, resisting the temptation to drop to my knees and throw up. If I did he would be on me and that wouldn’t be a good thing.

  I skidded around another corner and lost my balance, slamming hard into the wall and falling to the ground. My foot went numb as I struggled to my feet and tried to limp away. The roar grew closer, the scent stronger in my lungs as he approached. All I could do was flatten myself against the wall and hope my first strike would disable him, maybe even kill him.

  He leaped out of the shadows at me and smashed me into the wall with a near-perfect hockey body check. My shoulder popped out of its socket, leaving my arm numb as I collapsed. The hunter was on me before I could catch my breath and straddled me with little effort. I stared up into the feline face, trying to recognize it even while I strained to force myself to Change.

  The mouth opened, the canines dripping with hot saliva. His tongue flicked out once to wet his lips then retreated as he pinned me effortlessly to the ground. He arched his back and screamed at the sky above us and then glared down at me, daring me to try and escape.

  I had nothing. Not even a whisper of extra strength, my weak human body nothing more than a shadow of what it could be. But I still had my senses and I wasn’t going to give up until the very end of this dream.

  I lunged forward and smashed my forehead into the feline face. His nose, more delicate than a human’s, could be a liability in close fighting.

  It worked. He released my arms and brought up both hands to cradle the injured and hopefully broken nose, roaring his muffled disapproval and pain.

  I woke up.

  He was still there.

  Chapter 8

  I bucked my hips up and rolled to one side, falling onto the floor as the attacker pulled his hands away from his face, still feline, still Family.

  Still trying to kill me.

  I crouched into an attack posture, a mixture of what I had been taught as a kit and the result of a few self-defense courses. The television’s dim light illuminated my assailant as he knelt on the bed for a second before scrambling to his feet to continue the attack. Jazz was somewhere in the room, hissing her defiance at this invasion but smart enough not to get in the way. My shoulder ached but wasn’t dislocated. Obviously my dream state had magnified the situation.

  I didn’t recognize him, but that wasn’t surprising. The teenager had a white streak running down one side of his nose, just enough to give him an eerie look in the dim light. His scent was the same as on the photograph, identifying him as the photo taker and Janey’s killer.

  He jumped off the bed and came at me, both paws in the air with claws extended. This wasn’t going to be some play fight at the farm where we both rolled around like kits until one got tired and called it quits.

  I grabbed the arm closest to me, the right, and yanked it past me, wincing as his left hand gouged my sweatshirt to ribbons on the way past. He slammed into the wall face-first, collapsing on the hardwood floor but only for a minute. He scrabbled back to his feet with another yell.

  “What’s going on?” Bran yelled from downstairs. Great. As if things weren’t complicated enough. I stepped forward toward the attacker and shot my fist out toward his throat with all my strength. The Felis moved to one side at the last minute, spinning around to face me. The blood was still gushing from his nose down his black shirt and jeans, strangling his breathing and making it sound even more fearsome.

/>   “Leave me alone,” he rumbled. “Just leave me alone.”

  “I’m calling 911!” The panicked voice matched the pounding footsteps coming up the stairs. My attacker spat out a mouthful of blood before reaching out and grabbing me, pushing me toward the steps even as his claws dug into my skin through the material.

  I began to topple, my bare feet unable to keep hold of the slick varnish. Suddenly my own claws appeared, long enough and sharp enough to embed themselves into his forearms and pull him down with me. I glared at him, a smug smile on my face.

  “Let’s do this,” I said as we spun toward the stairs together. “Let’s do this right now!” His shocked eyes met mine. He hadn’t anticipated that I’d fight back with Felis claws.

  This made two of us.

  We rolled down the stairs like a pair of stunt dummies, bouncing every which way. I hit my head at least five times, if not more, landing on a pretty soft cushion that was both comforting and lumpy even if it was cursing and swearing.

  My vision cleared long enough to see the front door open, letting in the cool night air as a shadow raced through into the darkness. Beneath me, Bran let out a cough.

  “My God, are you okay?” He looked up the stairs and back down again to where we lay in a tangled heap on the landing. “Am I okay?”

  I lost valuable minutes untangling myself. It took a few more seconds to stumble over to the open door and look out onto the empty street.

  “What the hell was that?” Bran got to his feet and then bent over, wheezing. I tucked my hands into my armpits and pushed the door shut with a hip check, gasping for my own bit of air. Instead of dealing with Bran I leaned against the wall, hoping my claws were retracting as quickly as they had escaped my knuckles. The throbbing told me that they were, but not easily.