by Karen Kelley
Without waiting for her, he started in that direction. She didn’t really have a choice, except to follow. The space was large, with trees that weren’t close enough to the double fence that a cat could escape, but it provided an environment that was more like the animals’ natural one. Sheba seemed satisfied. Callie hoped she was. Although Callie often wondered if she might be lonely. That was one reason why she made a point of visiting the jag. She knew all about loneliness.
As they rounded the corner, the blood drained from her face. There were four teenagers pushing each other and cutting up. That was pretty normal. What wasn’t normal was the kid, who couldn’t be more than fifteen, walking on the top ledge of the second wall. The one that protected the patrons. If he lost his balance, he could fall into the pit. If Sheba attacked, Mr. Campbell would have the jaguar put down.
“You aren’t supposed to be up there,” Callie said in a quiet, but firm voice. “Please come down.”
“Hey, Gary, you got a hot chick begging you. That’s a first.” He guffawed and pushed one of the other boys. “You going to do what she says? You pussy-whipped like your old man?”
Gary looked as though he might have gotten down if his friend hadn’t razzed him. Now he only looked undecided.
“I think you better do as the lady asked,” Rogar said.
For the first time today, she was glad he stood beside her.
“Whatever.” The kid shrugged and started to jump back to the fence closest to the visitors, but his foot slipped. His arms windmilled, then, as if in slow motion, he fell into the pit.
Callie sucked in a breath.
Sheba began to pace back and forth, getting closer and closer to the boy. The boy groaned and raised his head.
“Don’t move,” Callie called out, reaching for her cell phone. Oh, God, she really didn’t want to see the kid ripped to shreds. “Everyone stay calm, and please be as quiet as possible.” She glared at the other boys just to get her point across, then punched in the number of the main office. As soon as the secretary answered, she began to talk. “We have a situation at the jaguar pit. A boy fell in. Get someone here with a tranquilizer gun, and call an ambulance.”
“I’m on it,” Mr. Campbell’s secretary told her.
Callie snapped her phone closed and glanced at Rogar. He’d taken off his shoes. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure he doesn’t get eaten.”
Her eyes widened. “You can’t go in there!”
He grinned. “Watch me.”
In one graceful movement, he jumped to the first stone wall, then across to the next. If she wasn’t scared out of her wits, she would’ve admired his agility. He dropped into the pit as though it were only a few feet down, rather than fifteen. Oh, God, she was going to throw up.
She looked around. A crowd had gathered, but she had to say they were staying very quiet, other than a few collective gasps when Rogar had dropped to the ground.
“What are you doing?” She intentionally kept her voice low. Sheba was already pacing across her enclosure, eyeing the intruders.
Seemingly quite unconcerned, Rogar looked up and grinned. “I’m being a hero. Isn’t that what you said you wanted?” He quirked an eyebrow.
For a moment, he made her forget where they were, and that he was in danger, but then Sheba’s angry cry echoed through the compound, chilling Callie’s blood.
“No, I don’t want a hero.”
He shrugged. “Too late.”
She wanted to throw something at him, she wanted to…Her thoughts stilled as she watched Rogar turn and face Sheba. As he walked toward her, Rogar began to talk quietly in a tongue Callie had never heard. It not only had a hypnotic effect on Sheba, but also the small crowd of people.
He slowly moved toward the cat, then when he was a few feet away, he stopped, and dropped to his knees. Sheba opened her mouth, teeth bared, and cried out again, pacing back and forth in front of Rogar.
“What the hell is he doing in there?”
Callie jumped, whirling around, and came face to face with a man wearing the same color uniform as hers. She didn’t know the man’s name, but he worked at the zoo, and he carried a tranquilizer gun.
“One of the kids was playing trapeze and fell into the pit. He’s moved and groaned, but that’s about it. We need to lower a basket, and a couple of men, while Rogar has Sheba’s attention,” she said.
“If he’ll give me a shot, I can put her down, then we won’t be taking a chance anyone will get hurt.”
“And maybe we won’t need to. He apparently has worked with big cats before or she would have already attacked.”
He raised the gun. “I won’t do anything unless I have to.”
Four medics came hurrying around the corner with ropes and a basket. They worked quietly and efficiently lowering two men and a basket over the side. They didn’t waste any time as they spinal packed the kid, then eased him into the basket. There were enough men up top to pull the basket back up. Both medics were next. They looked relieved to be out of the pit.
But most of the time, Callie kept her gaze on Rogar. Sheba had stopped pacing. Callie wondered if the cat had decided he’d make a good meal.
“Everyone is clear except Tarzan,” the guy with the gun said. “If he’ll move to the right just a bit, I can get a shot, and we’ll get him out of there all safe and sound.”
But Sheba padded closer to Rogar. Callie caught her breath when the cat suddenly rose on her hind feet, and planted her big paws on Rogar’s shoulders.
The crowd gasped.
But then Sheba surprised everyone when she licked him on the face.
Shocked silence reigned over the crowd. Rogar began to pet the cat and laugh, as though Sheba was no more than an overgrown tabby.
The crowd began to chuckle, then clap. The guy with the gun lowered it. “What the hell?” He pushed his cap higher on his forehead. “In all my born days, I ain’t never seen nothing like this. Who the hell is this guy?”
“He’s a hero,” she spoke softly.
Rogar stood. The cat twined around his legs. He patted her neck then leaned down and said something to her. She gave his hand one lick, then in just a few moves, climbed the nearest tree. Sheba stretched out on one of the limbs, purring from deep in her throat, as though she was totally contented at the moment.
Rogar didn’t get in any hurry as he came back to the wall. Someone lowered a rope and he swiftly climbed it. As he joined everyone up on top, people began to shake his hand and slap him on the back.
“What did you think you were doing?” Callie asked when he was finally able to join her. “You could’ve been killed.”
“Sheba would never hurt one of her own,” he said softly.
Callie opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. She raised her chin a few notches. “I still don’t believe that…that you’re an alien who can change into a jaguar.”
“Not even a little?”
She clamped her lips together and turned on her heel. “I think the tour is over.”
“You didn’t answer me,” he said when he caught up to her, after putting his socks and shoes back on.
She didn’t answer him because there was a part of her that did believe him, and if she believed him, then what did that make her? She knew what it made her—crazy.
She stopped and faced him, poking him in the chest with her finger. “You’re a flesh and blood man, not an alien, and certainly not a jaguar.”
“You have a guide who lives in you, too, Callie. Have you not felt her talking to you? She guided you to the zoo, to work where you would be most comfortable.”
“My guide?”
“Yes, you share bodies with your guide.”
“And I can share this animal’s body that lives inside me?”
He nodded.
She laughed. “Bull!”
“I can teach you how to connect with your guide.”
Was this guy for real? Yeah, he was a great magician, and it was obvious he’d
worked with animals. She respected him for that, but she refused to be taken in again.
“The tour is over.” She climbed into the Jeep. As soon as he was inside, she started the vehicle and aimed for the carport. Once there, she wasted no time pulling in and putting the Jeep in park.
“Let’s not do this again.” She got out and walked to the petting zoo without looking back.
But damn, she wanted to take one last look, embed him in her memory banks. She didn’t.
“You’re back,” Gail said with obvious relief.
“Sorry it took so long.”
Gail leaned against the fence, absently petting the cat that came out of hiding. “Did you hear about the kid that fell into the jag’s pit?”
“I was there.”
She straightened. “You saw it? I heard this guy jumped into the pit and saved the boy. He hypnotized the jaguar or something. Everyone is talking about it. Is that what really happened?”
“Pretty much,” she hedged, wanting to drop the subject, but when Gail looked as though she wanted more information, Callie relented. “He’s worked with big cats before. He’s good.”
Gail looked disappointed, but Callie really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Apparently, Gail finally sensed her reluctance, and let the matter drop.
The rest of the day passed quickly. Maybe because Callie kept getting lost in thoughts of how well Rogar had worked with Sheba. The jaguar hadn’t been any more immune to his charms than had Callie.
And maybe Callie had been a whole lot jealous. How many times had she dreamed of petting Sheba?
She clamped her lips together. No, Rogar took dangerous chances that she would never be stupid enough to try. End of story.
When her shift ended, her feet were heavy as she trudged to the employee parking lot. She would probably never see Rogar again. That was a good thing, though. She certainly didn’t want him in her life.
Her car looked forlorn, off to itself, as almost everyone had left for the day. She unlocked the door and sank into the cushioned seat, except it had lost any semblance of comfortable long before she’d bought it off the used car lot. Still, she was off her feet, and that was all that really mattered.
She inserted the key and turned it.
Nothing.
Not even a chugga-chugga.
She let off, counted to five, then turned it again.
Nothing.
This was so not happening.
She turned the key again and heard the soft purr of an engine. No chugga-chugga? Had her car miraculously healed itself? Cool. She frowned. Except the dash lights hadn’t come on.
She looked up. There was a sleek black convertible sitting beside her car—Rogar was behind the wheel. A Jaguar, no less. Her dream car. The one she’d cut out of a magazine and put on her vision board that hung on the wall in her bedroom.
Rogar smiled.
She quite possibly hated him. He’d had the nerve to take the last of her money, then flaunt his fancy clothes and expensive car? Her some-day-in-the-distant-future car! She glared at him, but it didn’t seem to faze him. All she wanted to do was leave, forget about him. She turned the key one more time.
Nothing happened.
Great, just freaking great. She grabbed her purse off the passenger seat and opened her door, slamming it closed after she got out. She didn’t look at his high-dollar car or at him, but instead, marched past with her head held high.
A car door opened and closed, then his hand was on her arm, effectively stopping her. She turned and glared at him.
“Go away.”
“You need a ride home.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Why not?”
She stopped and stared at him. He really didn’t get it. “Because I don’t like you.”
He frowned. “Really?” He looked genuinely puzzled.
A mental picture of how he’d worked with Sheba formed. What he’d done had taken courage. Rogar had probably saved that boy’s life. “Okay, maybe not liking you is too strong—” she conceded, “but I don’t care to be in your company.”
“Then don’t, but at least let me take you home.”
She sighed. “But I’ll still need to get my car at some point.”
“I’ll take care of that, too.”
She didn’t want to accept his offer. What she wanted to do was sit in the middle of the parking lot and bawl. Would she ever catch a decent break?
“Let me be your hero,” he spoke softly, his words like a warm breeze drifting over her.
“I don’t want a hero.” She hated that her bottom lip trembled.
“But you do need saving right now. At least, let me do that.”
What choice did she have? “Okay, you can take me home, but that’s all.”
He smiled.
Why did she feel as though he’d played her just as much as he’d played Sheba this afternoon? But then, what choice did she have? Right now, she really did need a hero.
They walked back to his car, and she slid into the passenger seat. Black leather cupped her body in pure luxury. This was what a real car felt like. God, it was almost an orgasmic experience.
Rogar got in on the driver’s side and started the car. It purred to life. She could almost feel the car’s energy, the sheer power under the hood.
He clutched and shifted, grinding the engine. She flinched.
“You do know how to drive, don’t you?”
“Your vehicles are antiquated compared to those on New Symtaria, but I’m sure it won’t take me long to have everything down.”
“Well, la-te-dah.”
He glanced in her direction. “We push a button and our mode of transportation takes us where we want to go.”
“That sounds like loads of fun,” she mumbled. Superior her foot. He didn’t even realize what he was driving. The Jag was unsurpassed by any other vehicle as far as she was concerned. This was the car that made her drool, and he was grinding gears.
He pulled out of the employee parking lot, not even bothering to stop at the Stop sign.
“You do know how to read English, don’t you?” she asked, sitting up a little straighter.
“Of course.”
“You just ran a Stop sign.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know all of your rules.”
Great, he was going to kill her with his driving. At least she would die in luxury. Not that she was quite ready to die. “There’s a light coming up. You’ll need to stop if it’s red or orange, but you go if it’s green.”
He nodded.
“How did you manage to make it to the zoo?”
“People were nice enough to get out of my way.”
She laughed. “I just bet they were.”
He looked at her. “I like the way you laugh.”
For a moment she couldn’t breathe. No one had ever really complimented her. The workers at the orphanage tried their best, but there were so many kids, and just not enough hugs or compliments to go around. Most of the time, she went unnoticed.
She cleared her throat. “Better watch the road. My turn is coming up.” But even after she pointed it out to him, he drove past. “You missed it.”
“I’m hungry,” he said. “There are places where we can get food.”
“Restaurants?”
“Yes.”
“You promised to take me home.”
“Your stomach is making funny noises. You’re hungry, too, and there wasn’t much food at your dwelling.”
He had her there. Besides, he did owe her for pulling all that crap on her about being an alien. It was time to make him pay.
She pointed him in the direction of one of the most expensive restaurants she could think of. So what if she wasn’t dressed appropriately.
Chapter 5
Callie closed her eyes and savored the juicy piece of steak. This was so good and so much better than the PB&J sandwich she’d planned to have for dinner. She opened her eyes and met Rogar’s gaz
e.
She shouldn’t have let him talk her into going out to eat. Not that he’d had to do that much talking. She’d only justified her hunger with the fact that he owed her. But if Rogar thought he could suck her into his fantasy that he was an alien, he was sadly mistaken.
She laid her silverware across her empty plate. A waiter immediately appeared, almost out of nowhere, and removed it. Another brought a chocolate mousse in a crystal dessert dish and set it in front of her. It looked light as air, topped with a cloud of fluffy whipped cream and decadent swirls of dark chocolate.
“Are you regretting going to dinner with me?” Rogar asked.
She picked up her spoon and dipped it into the dessert. There was a creamy center. She took a bite, closing her eyes and savoring the bursts of cherry and chocolate flavors. She’d never tasted anything like this in her entire lifetime.
“Callie?”
She wanted to look him in the eyes and say yes, she regretted it with every breath in her body, but she couldn’t make the words come out.
“If this didn’t taste so damned good, then yes, I would regret it, but it does, so I won’t lie. There, are you satisfied?”
He leaned back in his chair, looking full of himself. Sexy, but gloating. She’d throw the chocolate mousse at him if it weren’t so delicious.
“Yes, I’m satisfied.”
Before he could get too full of himself, she continued, “But I’m still not buying your alien from another world story, nor that I’m part…” She frowned.
“Symtarian,” he supplied.
“Yeah, I’m not buying any of it. What are you? A bored trust fund baby? Too much time and money on your hands?”
“No.”
“Then where did you get all that money?” Let him answer that one.
“I took the money you gave me and reproduced it.”
The spoon she held clattered to the table, staining the white tablecloth with chocolate. She could feel the color draining from her face.
A waiter hurried forward, quickly cleaning the mess and telling her not to worry about it. As soon as he’d disappeared, she turned to Rogar. “You’re a counterfeiter?” she whispered.
He was thoughtful for a moment, then his eyes widened. “Yes, that’s what I did. I counterfeited the bill you gave me.” He smiled, as though he was proud that he understood what she’d said.