by RJ Blain
“Bullshit. You don’t go anywhere near water or trees.”
If she knew how many times I ran through the few forests near Los Angeles as a cheetah, she’d never forgive me for refusing to go out with her.
I liked trees and water well enough when I was by myself to enjoy them.
When she was sound asleep, I had every intention of running as long and fast as my spirit beast allowed me to, until I couldn’t run a step farther. I’d end up limping all the way back to the cabin, but it would be well worth the price.
“Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a scout.” The way she hissed her words implied I lacked honor as well, but I pretended not to notice her tone.
Some fights weren’t worth having.
“I booked about a year ago, since the lodges tend to be in high demand. It’s late season, so some of the tourist attractions are closed, but it’ll be quiet at least.”
“We’re really going to a lodge? In the woods?”
“There’s even a lake. From what I understand, it’s a pretty big one, too.”
“Why?”
Leaving Idette had been on my mind when I had made the reservation, and the chance to salvage what we had once enjoyed together had committed me to one final attempt to make our marriage worth keeping. Raising my voice wasn’t the way I did things, but I couldn’t keep the sharpness out of my tone when I replied, “I thought you’d like it.”
Idette never apologized for anything she did. In my idiocy, I chose to believe there was some sort of plea for forgiveness in her silence. It was pride, pure and simple, but I hated admitting it.
Admitting meant I had willingly remained trapped in a bad situation bound to get worse before it got better. When Idette found out my intentions to divorce her and cut her permanently out of my life, she’d snap.
If I didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire, I needed to make my great escape.
Begging for my cheetah’s help and running into the hills, as far as I could go, was sounding better and better.
We spent the rest of the ride in silence. Well, Idette did.
I listened to my spirit beast’s unhappy wails the entire trip. When spitting curses at my wife didn’t appease the feline, he took to pawing at my hair, which I had to ignore to avoid criticism and suspicion from Idette.
When—if—I made it back to Los Angeles, I’d have to sit down with Marcello and admit he had been right all along. With Idette, my best wasn’t good enough, and it never would be.
The whole idea of a trip was a mistake, but there was nothing I could do about it. If I had been wise, I would have used the stalker’s photographs of me as an excuse to cancel. There was nothing I could do about it, so I’d do what I always did. I’d make the best of a bad situation and hope everything worked out.
Whether satisfied by my thoughts or tired of trying to annoy me, my cheetah retreated, stretched out on the back seat, and huffed his disapproval.
The lodge wasn’t nearly as remote as I was hoping, but our log cabin was large and faced the lake, not far from where the water lapped at the beach. As I had requested, a pair of kayaks waited for us. Inside, there would be a bottle of wine and groceries for the weekend in the fridge.
Idette turned in a slow circle before staring out over the water. “I like it.”
It was the closest I’d gotten to gaining her approval in months, and I basked in the glow of not being on her bad side for a change. “I’m glad.”
It was the truth; if she was happy, maybe I wouldn’t end up with another set of bite marks to match the ones healing on my shoulder.
My cheetah rubbed against my legs and purred, but I couldn’t tell if he was purring because he was happy to be out of the car or if he was trying to comfort me. With my wife’s attention fixated on the lake, I risked lowering my hand to scratch my spirit beast between his ears. He bumped my palm with his head and purred louder.
Soon, sometime after nightfall, we’d stretch our legs and run. I longed for the feel of fur and four legs instead of two, for however long my spirit beast welcomed me. My cheetah’s purring intensified, and his pleasure at my thoughts warmed me.
“Let’s walk around the lake when the moon comes up tonight,” Idette said, spinning around to face me. Her cheeks were flushed and her dark eyes reflected the sunlight. “You’ll come, won’t you?”
I wanted to sigh, but I swallowed the urge. My plans, all of half a minute old, crumbled to dust with her question. After a walk, she’d probably be far too energized to want to sleep, leaving me unable to slip away until the wee hours of the morning.
I’d try, but I’d probably have to put off my plans to run as a cheetah until the next night. “Sure.”
“Really?”
“If you want to walk along the lake after dark, we can.”
Did Lake George have bears in the woods? I wondered what sort of beasts we’d run into on our walk. They didn’t concern me much; natural animals found my cheetah’s presence disconcerting, so they left me alone. While he couldn’t affect the real world, he did a good job of keeping me safe enough in the wilds. He also affected domesticated pets, but I didn’t mind; with my cheetah for a companion, I didn’t need or want affection from other sources, Idette included.
Then again, I hadn’t had much interest in women after the first couple of times she had bitten me. Pain was a good deterrent and far more effective than a cold shower at smothering any desire I might have had for my wife.
I wondered if I’d end up a proper man once I was divorced from Idette.
The way my cheetah purred at my thoughts, I nursed the hope I would.
“I’m going inside.” Idette strode up the steps, paused to scrutinize the deck, and entered the cabin. Spitting curses at my wife, my cheetah swiped his claws in her direction despite her being beyond his reach.
“Patience,” I whispered, both as a reminder to myself and to my cheetah, who hissed at me for daring to criticize him.
Cats. I couldn’t live with him, and I didn’t want to live without him. Under the guise of heading for the cabin, I flicked my cheetah’s ears. Maybe we wouldn’t get to run, but I looked forward to when he would hop into bed with me and keep me warm.
Next week, everything would change, and I looked forward to starting a new life, one without Idette.
Chapter Four
Idette ignored my presence, which baffled me. Hadn’t I given her what she had wanted? If her complaints over previous vacationing spots were to be believed, I had bundled up as many of her desires and presented them to her a silver platter. I sighed and carried our bags into the cabin before making myself at home on the porch on a rocking chair, which looked out over the lake.
Maybe I hadn’t wanted to go somewhere wild and free with her, but that was as much her fault as it was mine. In that, I was a poor husband.
I didn’t want her spoiling nature for me with her volatile reactions to everything—even when she got exactly what she wanted. Grumbling curses, I propped my feet up on a nearby chair.
Taking advantage of the extra lap space, my cheetah jumped up and made himself comfortable, remaining there until the sunset lit the water with crimson fire. The door creaked open behind me.
“You’ve been out here for three hours,” Idette scolded.
My cheetah jumped off my lap, hissed at my wife, and bolted down the steps, his ears flattened and teeth bared. Manners dictated I should have at least made the effort to face her, but the way my spirit beast bristled kept my attention. “Did you need me for something?”
“Are we still going to walk along the lake?”
“Yes. I packed your hiking boots in your bag.”
“I found them.”
“I’ll get changed and we can go now if you want.” I got to my feet and turned.
Idette stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest, watching me with narrowed eyes. “What’s your deal, anyway?”
There were so many things I wanted to say, includ
ing parroting her question right back at her, but determined to make the weekend nice for at least one of us, I said, “After such a long trial, I wanted a change of pace.”
“I guess the other lawyer won, huh?”
I snorted, easing my way by her to get into the cabin. “Something like that.”
In a way, Andrea had won. I hated myself for being the cause of her scowl. Without the heat of the moment influencing me, without Marcello around to remind me why losing the case wasn’t an option, I loathed my victory despite having convicted a rapist and a cop killer.
I wanted Roberts to stay gone, imprisoned for the rest of his life for his crimes, but facing Andrea each day had given me a reason to get out of bed. If the past was any indication, it’d be months—maybe a year—before I had a chance to see the defense attorney again.
Her firm didn’t send her to the courthouses in my division often.
“Want to talk about it?”
“What, you weren’t watching the news?” I laughed and hunted down my bag, digging for my hiking boots. I shouldn’t have worn a suit, but old habits died hard. Changing wouldn’t accomplish much of anything, and suits could be cleaned, so I didn’t bother.
Wearing boots instead of oxfords was enough.
“The case was on the news?”
At the dismay in her voice, I looked up from shoving my feet in my boots. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Three-time rapist who killed a cop. It was a long trial, so the media gobbled it up. Reporters love the violent ones.” I tied my laces and stood. “Instead of an easy ride, I got a multi-month monstrosity. High profile, and the defense was determined to make me work for it.”
“You won?”
The surprise in Idette’s voice angered a yowl out of my cheetah, and his rage heated my blood and made me lust for the hunt. Instead of acting on my spirit beast’s desire for violence, I checked my pockets to make sure I had my cell, my wallet, and keys. “It does happen from time to time.”
Maybe if she paid a little more attention to what I did, she’d know I liked winning and did so as often as possible. It wouldn’t surprise me if Idette had scheduled Douglass Roberts’s transfers so he could appear in court. While the nuances of her job within the prison system eluded me, I was aware she had been assigned to scheduling several months ago.
I shoved my hands in my pockets and stepped outside, again easing by my wife. “Shall we?”
“It was really a high profile case? Was that why that woman picked up your phone?”
“Yes. I left my phone with Captain Ramirez. It was one of her cops who had been murdered. There were a few things dealing with the criminal the police wanted to talk to me about, and it took longer than I expected. Sorry about that.”
“She’s really a police captain?”
“You can check the LAPD website for her if you’d like. She’s the real deal. Pretty smart woman, and not someone I’d want arresting me. She doesn’t take bullshit from anyone, especially not some upstart district attorney.” Mindful of the fact Idette tended to fly off the handle at the thought of other women in my life, I made a point of shuddering, shaking my head as I walked down the steps to join my spirit beast. “She’s tougher than nails. She might chew them up and spit bullets for all I know.”
“Do you like her?”
I certainly liked her vodka, although I was still feeling remnants of the hangover from my stupidity in her office. “That’s like asking a mouse if he likes a cat. Of course I like the cat, as flattery might prevent me from getting eaten for a little while.”
I earned glares from my wife and my cheetah.
“So you’re not a fan, I take it?”
Even in court, I hated lying. I liked Captain Ramirez on many levels, and she was the type of woman I’d want at my back—and investigating cases for me. “She’s a fantastic detective, but I don’t know her on a personal level. As far as former detectives go, she’s stellar. I can’t tell if the force made a mistake or not by promoting her to captain, because she had a great eye for detail.”
“Detail is pretty important to you.”
“Typically, it is for a prosecuting attorney.” I headed for the water, halting where it lapped at the beach. The sun dipped beneath the horizon; despite being a quick drive to the highway, the area surrounding the lake was dark. “I hope this is remote enough?”
“Far better than I was expecting,” my wife admitted. “Let’s take the kayaks out and find a more private place along the shore.”
While some cats hated the water, my spirit beast viewed it with elegant disdain and tolerated it on my behalf. I enjoyed swimming as a feline; the way my cheetah’s body moved through the water had a wild feel to it, which let me disconnect from reality for a little while. Instead of answering Idette, I headed for the kayaks. Feeling her gaze on my back, I hauled them both to the water.
“Have you ever done this before?” She regarded me and my suit with a raised brow.
“I’m sure I can figure it out.” To prove I wasn’t completely incompetent, I shoved my kayak into the water and hopped in, coasting out to deeper water with a few shoves of my paddle. I rowed to the end of the dock so my cheetah could hop on without getting wet.
It never ceased to amaze me how I perceived the feline’s weight, but physical objects, including my kayak, didn’t react to his presence. He decided to ride with his hindquarters resting on my shins while his front paws stretched over the bow.
He purred, and I suspected he was happy Idette couldn’t share the kayak with us.
“Since when have you been kayaking?” Idette demanded as she pulled up alongside me.
While her question was reasonable, I hated the way she spoke. At least I had a good excuse for my experience. “Remember three years ago when I had to go to a convention in Grand Rapids? Kayaking is a bit of a thing there, and I got roped into going with a bunch of fellow lawyers. Disgracing myself in front of my colleagues was not an option.”
“Oh. I remember. You had seemed a bit cranky about the trip.”
“Kayaking in the rain is not my idea of fun.”
In truth, all I had really wanted was a chance to run with my cheetah, but as happened all too often, I had been thwarted at every turn. My spirit beast sighed his agreement.
“Let’s go over there,” my wife said, pointing her paddle towards the other end of the lake.
“Sure.”
Idette was a better kayaker than I was, and she deftly glided over the water, leaving me to follow in her wake. The thought of competing with her annoyed me, so I took advantage of her facing away from me to stroke my cheetah’s back.
I wondered when she had gone kayaking, but I decided it didn’t really matter. In a week, I wouldn’t be under any obligation to care what she did, had done, or would do, and the knowledge soothed me even more than my spirit beast’s contented purrs.
The spot Idette picked was so remote the only signs of life were a few lights on the other side of the lake. She hauled her kayak onto shore, and I followed after her, glad my hiking boots provided some protection from the chilly water. When I was satisfied my kayak wouldn’t float off, I tossed my paddle into it and stretched.
My back creaked and my muscles were sore, but the exercise had done me good. I was in better shape than the lawyers who didn’t go to the gym, but my cheetah was responsible for that.
Maybe he was incorporeal, but I was convinced he kept my body lean no matter what I ate. Magic worked in mysterious ways; I didn’t exactly have anyone I could ask about how—and why—I had a ghostly feline haunting me all the time, or what sort of things he did to me as a result of his presence. At least the runs we took kept me fit enough.
Idette smiled, and the tenderness of her expression reminded me of the woman I had fallen in love with so many years ago. “It’s quiet out here.”
“I tried to find somewhere you’d like.”
“What do you think is in the woods?” She spun around, staring into the dark
trees. If we wanted to go into the forest, we’d have to break a trail. My cheetah purred at the idea, striding to the tree line to wait.
“I suppose we’ll have to find out,” I replied. A blast of warmth from my spirit beast filled my chest, strong enough I was torn between wincing from the discomfort and smiling at his enthusiasm.
“You’re not scared?” Idette smirked at me before heading for the trees.
“Should I be?”
“There might be wolves,” she taunted.
“In a resort area? I really doubt it, Idette.”
“If we meet one, you’ll have an interesting story to tell your lawyer friends.”
“True.” The last thing I wanted was an interesting story to tell anyone once I returned to Los Angeles. With a stalker waiting for me at home and a divorce looming on the horizon, dull and boring meant safe; I doubted I’d be able to enjoy the illusion of security anytime soon.
To pretend I was a normal human, I had to fumble around in the dark despite my cheetah granting me good night vision. I didn’t need to take his shape, either. As long as I had at least a little light, as long as he remained near me, I had no trouble making out the detail of the few leaves still clinging to their branches, the rocks half-buried under decaying foliage, and the skittering of small animals fleeing our presence in their woods.
Idette slid through the trees and brush, leaving no evidence of her passage. Growling his discontent, my cheetah bumped against my legs, his fur standing on end. I soothed him with a few strokes of my hand, and narrowing my eyes, I followed after my wife.
A hunting feline’s instinct was to prowl in silence, stalking after prey. My cheetah wanted to rid us both of Idette, and his desire for violence stirred my blood, tempting me to free myself in a very permanent way.
He encouraged me to act, and in his urgings, I was aware of something else, a promise of freedom in the wild. Once we were released from Idette, we could run and avoid the human world, leaving it behind for the hunt.
His body wouldn’t age, and he would share with me until no one remembered Sean Scott had ever existed. The idea of becoming an unsolved mystery intrigued me.