Hunting the She-Cat

by Jacki Bentley

  “Taking your favorite two Belgian Malinois won’t be necessary.” She smiled lovingly. Uncle Joseph imported, bred and trained the dogs for police work. Placing them all over the country.

  “I insist.”

  “Not necessary.” Her heart jerked in her chest, the beat of it distracting. That the two dogs might be big enough to harm the big male in cat form, made her fear for Lugar. Irrational, inexplicable. Man, she was crazed by the male. The point was to run and hide from him not protect him.

  Still, she did not want him hurt in this insane, misguided quest of his to take her to his leader.

  “They will want to protect you.”

  “Not this time, Uncle.”

  “I see.”

  * * * *

  Lugar landed what appeared to be a Piper on nearby landing strip at the Nashville airport. The small plane was not as it appeared, but was the ship he’d landed on Earth in just a few days ago. His people had learned to be wary of the earth humans three hundred years ago and acted accordingly. Discretion and common sense suspicion was warranted.

  His senses told him she was near. Misha walked through the airport, very close by. Her scent called to him.

  Time to check in with home. He pushed the button on his wrist com. He walked a fine and dangerous line, trusting no one and being truthful with no one.

  Things were not proceeding as planned. He was only a few hours delayed. The she-cat’s instincts of self-preservation served her well while his own were shot all to a black hell and back.

  She had him on the hunt, running after her, when he anticipated having her halfway home by this time.

  “Commander, the queen awaits news from you. You have tracked the lost female?”

  “Not much to report yet.”

  I must inform you our sources tell us one of Gald’s men is only hours behind you, perhaps less,” Cord at Eliavan command center said.

  “Why would he become personally involved?”

  “Unknown, sir. We intercepted covert communications from Gald to the ship as it left Eliava. Thought you’d want the info.”

  Damn. Lugar knew Gald too well for the cruel fool he was. His very blood roared up. Gald would not have the female.

  She was his now. Under his protection whether she wanted it or not.

  * * * *

  “You think the commander will kill the she-cat?” Zeff Harro asked the question as their plane flew just above the cloud cover, fast and straight for Tennessee less than one hour behind Eliavan Special Forces commander, Lugar Rova.

  “That’s his mission, Harro,” Vadeen Sneal answered. “Competent warrior. He has never failed the Eliava before.”

  “True. Commander is a top fighter. But he never had to kill a female before, I imagine.”

  “Hunnh. These are unusual circumstances. Normally the Law teaches us a female is to be protected. What would you do in his tracks? Destroy one little she-cat? Or lose the flipping kingdom of wealth offered in payment?”

  Zeff nodded, but felt his lips stiffen in revulsion. Finding it hard to keep an unreadable expression, he looked away. “Lot of power and wealth on the line alright.” He looked out the window, down at the glimpse of the ground below as the clouds folded away, trying to hide his abject revulsion. “But no damn challenge or honor in killing a girl. Especially the legendary lost young one.”

  “Sometimes the cost of one death is required for the good of many.”

  Zeff turned his eyes back to Sneal. “She’s a baby by the standard of our life expectancy, probably hasn’t shifted more than a dozen times yet. Young, unsure of her power and strength.”

  Zeff observed the larger and older man a long moment. Not for the first time, he noticed Sneal’s eyes were cold and dead, a man who had his uses but was without the normal compassion of their people. “Maybe so. Maybe so,” he conceded. Maybe so.

  “The disappearance of this one female reversed Gald’s family fortunes for the better. She returns, claims what’s hers, and all that goes back to the old status quo. No knowing what upheaval will come if she makes it back home. Now that Gald has located her positioning necklace, we can strike first.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Gald’s a truly evil one, he thought. “They say Gald enjoys the kill too much.”

  Sneal’s eyes sparked with annoyance. “Rumors. Lies. He wants only the best for all.”

  Hmm. A spark of something like life flamed in Chief Sneal’s black, soulless eyes. He should back off. He realized he was pushing Sneal too far.

  “Time to have a male lead us into the future, Gald is the right male to do it. Ruthless, don’t forget who you work for, Harro,” Sneal said.

  Ah, so that was it. Interesting piece of information Sneal just gave. So, he definitely was not working for their queen. Urgently, Zeff moved the conversation onward, not letting on he’d heard. “You see the pictures of the lost female sent back by the surveillance team?” Shift the subject now, learn more without confrontation. Gald was a freaking mad man. He’d learned that much on this trip. But no one was brave enough to say it to his face. Unless maybe Lugar. A man could hope so anyway. “Pretty golden eyes and tawny hair just like her mother, Pride Lead Woman, Ladia,” he went on. “Beautiful, the girl is. Even in that long-legged, Earth human shape. Imagine her as a cat.”

  “Yes. A male should toy with her for a while first, then.”

  What? Zeff’s stomach lurched and turned with disgust at the idea. Before killing her, Sneal meant. Cold. Flipping cold bastard. “Not very honorable.” He risked jeopardizing his mission to say that much. Sneal was showing his true nature and it was not a good picture. Harro saw why the queen assigned him to go undercover and keep an eye on this one.

  Sneal glared at him now, giving him a disgusted look. “Honor is overrated,” he spat. “A useless trait from our primitive past. Not needed in the new future of Gald’s power. The commander will do what it takes. Earn her trust first.”

  “What if she’s not dark evil like her family? What if she’s innocent? What if she’s not Tryth’s daughter? No threat to Gald at all.”

  “Stupid notion. She is no innocent. She’s Tryth’s daughter alright, as sure as Gald is his nephew. Tryth captured her mother, didn’t he? All of us know this. Her grandfather was Kew, the Butcher of Verine. That blood will run true in her veins. Always does.”

  Illegally abducted her mother, you mean. Crazy bastard, Tryth, was criminally insane. “I see.”

  “She will naturally want what Gald earns. Her sacrifice will be made worthy when Gald is in full power.”

  A chill went through Zeff as there was an odd, admiring, nearly worshipful, light in his eyes when Sneal spoke the name, ‘Gald’.

  “Maybe she’s had better nurture here on this backward world. Intervention. Positive focus.”

  Sneal shook his head and smiled a strip of snarl. Zeff swore he saw bared fangs. “Idealism. You’re a damn romantic dreamer, Harro. Straighten up.”

  He shrugged and smiled a friendly smile. “Maybe I am.” Didn’t like the way the Sneal eyed him. He’d need to back off and keep his mouth shut now. Said more than enough already. Learned exactly what he needed to know.

  The console pinged. “There we go,” Zeff said. “Got a reading on the location of the commander’s transporter.”

  “Good. Steady then. Keep him on our screen,” Sneal snapped.

  “South fifty kilometers.”

  “Good. Match the heading to his. Tail him. Keep us in his blind spot. Back off enough to be beyond his scanners.”

  “Don’t like spying on our Commander.”

  “Suck it up. Can’t take the chance he gets soft on the female. We need a backup plan.”

  “Hah. Would not like to fight the Commander either.”

  “It will not come to that. However if it does, we will prevail.”

  Chapter Five

  Misha settled in, deeply and irrationally relieved to be in the sanctuary of her mountain home, deep in the woods with the high cliffs to her back. Af
ter stashing some food supplies, she was on the sofa, knees up with a cup of green tea and an old patchwork quilt over her shoulders. It was unseasonably cool today. Her uncle’s small black and white Boston Terrier lay on the sofa by her side, every bit of him snuggled under her quilt.

  “Some tough guard dog you are, Gixie,” she said. “Relaxing on the job.”

  She closed her eyes. What was it Lugar had said to her with his exotic green eyes so serious? ‘I came for you’. That was it. “I came for you, female.” All imperious and bossy. She shivered a bit as she remembered his commanding voice.

  From out beyond her windows she heard a wild cat call. Her old friends knew she was here and welcomed her back with joyous cries.

  Pushing the blanket aside, she went to the window. Night was falling. Did she dare transform and take a quick run? Blood bubbled in her veins at the thought.

  But she was here to hide, to lick her wounds, to lay low until the big monster, Lugar, gave up and took his cat self back to whatever nut house he came from.

  “But he’s right, Gix. I am a shifter. A she-cat,” she whispered. He was not crazy about that much. She flexed her shoulders and neck, resisting the overpowering urge to shift shapes now and leave the safety her cabin walls, to explore the beloved woods and trails of her childhood.

  Another invitation came from the lynx pride. She closed her eyes and sighed.

  “What the hell?”

  She grabbed Gixie and took him to the safety of his little crate in the mud room off the kitchen. “Sorry, bud. I’ll be back ASAP.” He whined a protest until she tossed him a treat. “Uncle would say I spoil you.”

  Once on the back porch, she locked the door behind her. She launched herself up to the railing and shifted in midair. A little dramatic and foolish but she felt wild and foolish tonight.

  A full, white moon climbed the starlit sky, outshining the stars.

  Misha called back to her friends and ran, galloping over fallen logs and through the deep woods, exhilarated, her vision so much better in this form. Her sense of smell enriched ten thousand times over.

  The freedom and the exertion of the run was blood-pounding good. She’d held herself in human form so rigidly without a shift for over two years. The risk of being caught, even here, grew each year with high-value vacation homes being built in these hills where the land was once hers alone.

  Also, she’d never felt total control in she-cat form, as heavenly tempting as it was. She feared her own power and strength. The wild nature was too near the surface, the need to hunt prey so powerful.

  * * * *

  “By Eliava’s seas,” Lugar whispered, awed. The female was stunning as a cat, more amazing than he’d imagined. Still in human form himself, his hands flexed on their own, the need to change and go after her clawed at his self control. He shook his head wildly. A low moaning growl came from him before he could stop it.

  As he watched her leap and climb the rocks with the perfect agility of, well a true cat, he smiled. She looked about her with sensible caution, checking to see if she was being followed.

  “Good, girl.”

  But in the next moment the smile fell from his expression. As soon as she reached the wild cliff’s plateau, a pride of cats came out of nowhere and surrounded her. His heart pounded in his chest, his blood boiled. He swore under his breath in his native language. He couldn’t reach her in time to save her, but he jerked into action, moving to try to protect her.

  He chose the straightest course, ignoring sharp scratches of low branches and the sting of wild rose briars.

  With cataclysmic awareness, he knew he would not survive finding the precious female only to lose her so soon.

  As he drew closer, he realized the breed of the other cats was unknown to him, smaller than she but there were five of them. Judging from size differences, three males and two females.

  Feathered tufts of hair adorned the points of their ears and they had almost no tail at all. How strange that was, unheard of in his world. He’d had to hurry his research but he should have paid attention to the native cats. He did know their claws and teeth were as impressive as any he’d seen.

  By the time he broke over the edge of the cliff he’d shifted to cat form, growling fiercely. He’d lost sight of her for about a hundred yards now as he climbed and dreaded like hell to find her torn up.

  When he was near her he said, “Get behind me,” unaware he’d used his native language until he saw the confusion in her eyes.

  “Shit,” she spat.

  “I said get behind me,” he repeated in English. Primal drives demanded he just shove her back the way they’d come. He resisted.

  “Back off,” she hissed. “How on earth did you find me so damn quick anyway? It’s not possible. Damn it, I thought I’d have at least a day or two to myself before you caught me.”

  Aggravation. “I can smell you, baby, remember? Cat.”

  Meanwhile the indignant foreign cats bristled and snarled at him, pacing in warning. Then they did the group thing and began a slow stalk toward him, soon would try to get around behind him no doubt. Damn. He backed up using the cliffs edge to stop them from surrounding him.

  Then he heard their calls to her and realized what they meant. They knew her, loved her even. Hellfire. He could not make out the language, but the affectionate tone of their feline speaking was universal.

  And now they wanted him dead, all of them. Saw him as the threat. Except maybe the blond female to the right who eyed him with something very different in mind.

  Misha spoke in the language of the other cats. Hopefully she’d be telling them, ‘Wait. I know this male’.

  The leader spoke to her, questioning her, apparently arguing. A part of Lugar admired the male’s clear desire to protect Misha from himself.

  “I can’t vouch for him entirely but he’s not here to kill me. I don’t think. Are you?” Then she repeated her words for him in English, a longsuffering sigh in her voice.

  “I would like to beat you for risking your safety with this pack, but I will not kill you.” He realized the irony of his promise in light of his mission for Gald.

  He stepped nearer the big male.

  “I said, ‘back off’, Lugar. My friends bristle when you speak to me in that haughty-male-bossy-tone damn thing you do. Stop it and you may survive this meeting.”

  “Tell them to leave us.” He stepped toward her menacingly, shaking his head. He could show her true bossiness.

  The pride bristled and growled, showing fangs at him as one.

  “I will not insult my friends by doing so. It’s been too long since we’ve seen one another. You can suck it up and accept their hospitality for a few hours and then I will return with you to my cabin.”

  Hell with her so-called friends. He put his face to hers, muzzle to muzzle. He inhaled the sweet smell of her breath.

  “Arrrrgh. I should let them have you for dinner.” Now she bared fangs.

  Stubbornly immune to her attempted browbeating, he used his body to corral her, shove her gently to show the other two males she belonged to him alone.

  Her eyes glowed with angry fire now and she screamed a warning and struck out at him in anger with unsheathed claws.

  The sound of it hit him right in the gut and in the depths of his groin, arousing him painfully.

  Perhaps he overplayed this.

  The males still bristled and growled and paced, ready to strike at a word from her. By the look of both, they were ready and able to fight.

  And then she did something amazing. She drew a breath, calmed and said, “Lugar. Stop this.”

  The sound was rolling growl, but the two words were human language. No one could manage that. No one on Eliava spoke as a human in cat form.

  The other cats leapt back away, alarmed by the feminine voice.

  “Sorry,” she purred in their direction, in their language. “Sorry.”

  To them she expressed her regret but not to him.

  “Now see what
you made me do?” she asked of him. “With all that macho posturing you made me talk human in cat shift.” She was shaking her head.

  “I do not see trying to save your life as posturing. Verbalizing as you did in human speech should not be possible while a cat.”

  “It’s difficult. It took me a long time to master it and I’m not perfect. One or two words I can manage. I’ve had a lot of time to practice.”

  She spoke to the others, “I will go with Lugar now.” She glared at Lugar. “Of my own choice. Another time, friends, we will visit longer. Catch up.”

  With that, she took off back the way she came, faster.

  Left to face the pride alone, Lugar nodded. “Ah, well, I suppose I’d better try to catch her.” He knew they had no idea what he said.

  On a steep ridge two large cats stood watching.

  “Seems like he missed a good opportunity to kill her,” Harro, in tawny cat form, said. “Make it look like those other cats there did it. Nothing left of her for the human scientists to tear apart under their scopes. If anyone came along, they’d see bits of fur and bone and know it as a cat fight in the wild.”

  Sneal, in tigon form, did not look happy. “He has his plans. The others might have had a small chance of disrupting his kill. A male can never underestimate another cat, even a small one like you. Much less a pride.”

  Mmm. Right, sir.”

  Beyond the lost opportunity, the commander had also looked possessive and protective of their pretty lost female. Harro hid a smile but this observation he thought best kept to himself. No need to bother Chief Sneal with that much information. Sneal was a lunkhead, not the type to notice details like the sexual interest the Commander showed the woman.

  “We’ll follow them. Watch from a distance.”

  “Sure thing, Chief.”

  Chapter Six

  Misha tore into the mud room of the cabin at an outrageous and reckless pace, bumping her hip on the door frame.