Hunting the She-Cat

by Jacki Bentley

  “Ouch,” she moaned. Having a bad week all around.

  She always left the door ajar when she ran as the she-cat, to facilitate a quick reentry. She’d been so sure she could beat Lugar here, at least outpace him enough to close the mudroom door in his face. But he was right on her tale, shoving his huge paws in the doorway even now.

  She turned to him and hissed, baring her teeth, lip curled in angry warning to stay away from her.

  His response was a cat’s laugh, rumbling and challenging. His nose wrinkled upward in threat.

  She felt an almost uncontrollable urge to swat him in the whiskers. “I did not invite you in here.”

  “Too bad, female.” The tone of his grumbles were rough and abrupt. He stepped toward her, menace in every line of his sleek body. “I grow weary of reasoning with you. Time wastes. I need you to come with me.”

  “I need you to leave my place. Now.”

  He shook his head and roared. The sound caused her to jump back a body length.

  Lugar crouched back on his haunches and leapt at her, tossing her roughly to the floor. With more nerve than she knew she had, she kept him at bay with her claws. Not digging in viciously but firmly.

  She swore he laughed. “You push me too far. I’m here for your own good.”

  “So you say. I’m doing fine taking care of my own good myself. Get. Off. Me.”

  In a flashing change of intent, he nuzzled her neck, purred to her, nipping softly, gently trapping her to the floor with one large shoulder.

  “Female you drive me to the unusual.”

  A surge of answering feminine response shook her frame.

  “I have never held a female more compelling.” He made to climb aboard.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

  “In this form there are not the formalities as with human forms and cultures.”

  “Hey, excuse me. With me there are.” But, god in heaven, she loved the feel of him sliding over her, pressing his weight down, down, down. The warmth, the gentle bristle of his tawny haircoat, the contrast of it to her lighter fur.

  The feel of him against her was glorious, sensual. She reached back and bit his neck. Then his chest, munching on him, getting him shiny-wet with her tongue.

  His grumbling voice came again, moaning. “That’s it. Now we’re making progress, female.”

  His confidence angered her. She hissed and spat at him, squirmed under him just for putting him in his place.

  He drew back, but not from fear. Peripherally she saw him step away, laughing at her. After a long moment spent just watching her, both of them breathing rough and hard, he came back to her. Slowly, testing his welcome. When he reached her, he nipped at her butt now, one side then the other. Small sexy nips, ruffling the fur backwards.

  Again she snarled and hissed.

  Then he nuzzled her there. Heavens. “No. No. No,” she moaned, shaking her head.

  Still, his tongue took her, demanding her response. She yelped, then whimpered a wordless plea that he end the waiting, the wanting more.

  “Now. Now?” she asked.

  “Good. From, ‘no’ to ‘now’ so quickly. I’m pleased with you. I will reward you for that.”

  “Huh.” She resented his power over her.

  But instead of claiming her fully with his body as she expected, he went back to touching her with his magical tongue.

  “Mmm. Mmmm. Er. This is … so wrong. We … don’t know each other this well. Not at all.”

  “You know enough. Now stop talking.” He rose over her and sought to mate with her now. Welcoming him, she sank back into him, helping.

  “I have a fiancé.”

  He bit her hard on the shoulder, punishment for talking at a time like this, she knew. “No. You chose me over him. Last night. He knows it. I know it.”

  “Nonsense. I … made no such choice.”

  “You stood in front of me and warned him away.”

  Inexorably, he pulled her even tighter in his hovering embrace. She inched back into him, allowing it, wanting him to complete their joining. Soon.

  But she shook her head, meaning to indicate that no she had not warned Bronson away. Her face took on a mulish look. She knew it.

  “Do not lie to yourself. You know exactly the moment I speak of.”

  “I … ”

  “You did.”

  Lugar raised his head, alert to sound from beyond the door.

  “Misha? Mish? Are you home in there?” a man’s voice came from the woods, the backyard.

  She caught her balance and came to her feet at once.

  “G’Ram.” Lugar said, then growled his frustration but stepped away from her.

  From his dour glowering look she gathered he’d just used a highly valued and expressive swear word, on a par with ‘god damn it’ or the ‘eff’ word. She felt his pain. Sexual frustration beat at her, throbbed in her blood. She closed her eyes and strained for control. She wanted nothing more than to tell Matt to come again another time.

  “Who is the male that calls your name?”

  “Matt Red Bird. My adopted cousin. Be nice. I think of him as a brother. “Shift.”

  “What?” he asked. “Oh. Of course.”

  They shifted back to human shape together. The unusual speed of the process jarred her, made her slightly sick to her stomach and caused her joints to ache a moment. As a beginner at this, she’d learned to take it slow and easy, to allow her metabolic system to realign to the second form. It was safest to do so as she fell asleep at night. No after affects that way.

  Straightening his clothes Lugar shoved the female back and looked out the widow panels in the door.

  “Four people. Two males, two females.” Something about the formation they kept as they walked the stone walk made him think of the cats they’d encountered. Her friends. “G’Ran.”

  “What?” Her gorgeous eyes looked into his, then out the window. Then back.

  “Your pride is here.”

  “My? Oh, God. They’re shifters?”

  “Damn right they are. You didn’t know?”

  She had her eyes squeezed shut.

  “Right. I guess you didn’t. How have you survived without me, female? Hmm?”

  “Arrogant jerk,” she muttered but her eyes watched the people approach.

  The male voice came again, “Brought you some food, little sister. Can’t have you go hungry.”

  Opening the door, she yelled, “I have company, Matt. Can’t just go away, can you?”

  “Nah, can’t so it. Dad wants to see if you’re okay. Won’t stay long. Come out in the yard to greet us, will you.”

  “They know you’re here.”

  “Of course they do. We met already.”

  She stiffened and drew herself up. “No. No. No. You’re mistaken, I’m sure you must be.”

  All this she said in a little rush of doubt.

  “Whatever.”

  Matt and the others were standing in the clearing, politely waiting for them.

  “Dad sends love and food but was too tired to walk up here with us.”

  Lugar stepped out after her and came to stand beside her. His blood buzzed with frustrated desire. With half a reason he’d fight the intruder. The two males were tall, dressed in casual attire. But they had long blue-black hair of the indigenous American people. And there was a suspicious warning look in the one she called Matt’s eyes. The one that did the talking for the group. The alpha in his father’s stead.

  “Hey, I’m Tayan,” said the other man. He raised a hand that carried groceries in a cloth bag with a long-necked bird and the wording The Nature Conservancy on it. “We did not mean to intrude.” Dad’s worried about his not-so-little-anymore niece here. His sister’s daughter is of great importance to our family. We look after her when she’s in our home area.”

  A lot of veiled meaning and Lugar got most of it. Territory. Females must be protected and defended.

  The first spokesman, the one called Ma
tt smiled in a flash of teeth meant to charm.

  “I see,” Lugar said.

  “She forgets to eat,” one of the females said. “I’m

  Diwa, by the way.” She tossed her inky black hair over her shoulder.

  “Never has brought home a stray male before though.” The second female stepped closer; still walking, she seemed to be mounting an inspection of him, getting too close. He growled but stood his ground.

  “Ooooh. Possessive and guarded, are you? My name is Galilahi. I like to be called Gali. Now you need to know this, our Misha will not respond well to that macho stuff. She’s an independent working woman. I like it myself,” she winked and smiled seductively, saying all this with a predatory gleam in her large, brown eyes.

  Unable to stop himself, Lugar took Misha’s elbow and shoved her behind him. His haste made him clumsy and rough, she had to catch her balance. Why, he wasn’t sure, but the second female did not love her as the others did. Little affection in her look, but jealousy drifted from her like scent. Envy could be a powerful and dangerous emotion if not controlled.

  “What are you doing that for?” Misha demanded in a voice only for his ears. “This is my family. I trust them completely.”

  He forced himself to allow her to step away from him and go to greet the others. “I don’t know them well enough to trust any of them.”

  She gave him an exasperated look before pulling away and running to them.

  “It’s been so long since I saw you guys,” Misha called to them, smiling and laughing. “Come here. Hugs needed.”

  They rushed around her, hugging, laughing, all talking at once. Lugar stood off and watched.

  The second female took part in the greetings, but watched him through it all. A look of feminine challenge filled her eyes. He had a sinking feeling she was going to make his life hell.

  Chapter Seven

  “So what are your intentions toward our girl?”

  Matt leaned against the brown granite counter with a beer in his hand and appeared to be watching the others as they put away the groceries.

  “I came to take her home,” Lugar answered frankly.

  Matt Red Bird halted with his beer halfway up to his mouth and looked into Lugar’s eyes. “Now hell, you say.”

  “You know where her home is?”

  Matt’s expression tightened. He knew something.

  “Shit. We’ve always known she was not from around here. Hoped she’d stay with us when her time in the city was over. When?”

  “I haven’t talked her into it yet.”

  Matt laughed in a humorless disgusting know it all way, shaking his head, enjoying this admission. “I’m so not surprised, man. I’d wish you luck but my loyalties are with Mish. Whatever she wants we want.”

  “That’s as it should be.”

  “Listen, lookouts tell us there are more of your kind on our ridges today.”

  Lugar looked at him in surprise. “How do you know they are my kind?”

  These woods are like a small town community, we know all the other wildlife. These are large cats, like something bred in the jungles of South America or the plains of Africa. Not your local native North American cat.”

  “How many of you are there?”

  “Not as many as the last time your kind came here.”

  “You have memory of the last time our kind came?”

  “We have stories told late at night when the young sleep. But then everyone knows how stories grow with the telling of them.”

  * * * *

  “You can not stay here tonight.”

  He leaned back in the recliner lifting his arms over his head, staring at her. Gix, the little traitor sat in his lap, fully relinquishing his alpha animal role to Lugar.

  “Why not? I will keep you safe.”

  “From whom? You?”

  He shrugged and a sexy light came in his eyes. “Maybe not from me. Here. Take my chair.”

  “Your chair?” she asked, highly annoyed that he’d claimed her own favorite chair and then kindly offered it back to her.

  “The chair. Take the chair female. I make no claim on your furniture.”

  “Fine.”

  “Your brothers brought meat, I will go to the kitchen and prepare something for you to eat.”

  Her mouth fell open. “You? You will prepare a meal for us?”

  He waved a hand. “In our culture the male hunts the meat and cooks it for the female. An old respected ritual.” He held out a hand, searching for words. “Providing for her needs is crucial to our continued survival as a species.”

  Holding her gaze, he nodded in a salute. That’s what it was, a salute.

  “Hmpf.” For some reason the word ‘needs’ brought back the steamy episode in the mudroom on the rugs. Heavens, the heat of it still scorched her. Without thought, she picked up a magazine and fanned herself briskly. She should demand he leave. Go sleep in the trees or a cave. Instead, she watched him work in her kitchen. The way he’d said ‘keetchen’ indicated the word was unfamiliar to him and reminded her he just might be from some other world as he’d said he was.

  At the moment, he seemed to be having no problem finding what he needed. He paused every now and then as though he sniffed the air to locate items, herbs and spices.

  At that moment, he looked up. “You like your meat rare?”

  She sighed. “Of course.”

  At that, he smiled as if they shared a bond.

  “Sit.” He had a hand around her wrist like a vice. She’d made to get the plates.

  “You’re so serious, a woman might think this was some kind of wedding ceremony.” She laughed. He didn’t join her in the humor.

  “A courting ceremony would not be far from the truth of it.”

  “It is more important than paperwork. More so than verbal promises. I take action for you in feeding you.” His eyes grew serious, dangerous. “I ask you to always judge me by my deeds and not my words.”

  “Fair enough. As long as the deeds do not involve murdering me in my sleep.”

  He jerked his gaze to hers in shock. “If I were to kill you, she-cat, it would be done with honor, with your full knowledge.”

  “Oh,” she said, laughing before she continued, “that’s alright then.”

  “You laugh at my code of honor.”

  “Well, no. I suppose so, yes. But only the way you worded it.”

  “Even with a hundred year cycle of study, I do not understand the nuances of your language and culture.”

  “Neither do we. Tell me about Eliava.”

  She’d changed the subject. But he was gratified she wanted hear more of her homeworld. Still deeply offended she might worry he’d kill her in her sleep. If she’d proved evil and in need of destruction, he would’ve allowed her the knowledge of it. He’d have told her the truth.

  “Where will I sleep tonight?” he asked, needing to know.

  “Uh, I … well--”

  “Where?”

  “You will sleep in the guest bed in the loft area. There.” She motioned above their heads.

  He had not expected her to invite him to her bedding spot, but he’d hoped. At least she had not said outside.

  “There is a phone up there. Call me on my cell phone if you have trouble finding towels, something.”

  “Sellaphone?”

  “They’re new since your … our….”

  “…tigon were here last,” he finished for her.

  “Wireless telephone. Convenient.” She gave him her number.

  She snuggled back in her chair and he came close to sit on the stool before her.

  “Back to Eliava,” she prompted.

  “She is a blue, rock planet such as this one is, blessed with all the things for life. She hangs in the heart of the black, with only her sun nearby, the third galaxy beyond this one. Eliava has been better treated than Earth from the beginning, her rich resources protected with our lives as they should be.

  She adjusted in her seat, becoming
even more alert, intrigued.

  “Good. I’m a resource lawyer. I work to see our waterways, our wetlands and natural areas are improved, nurtured, allowed to live.”

  He nodded his approval. “It is as it should be.”

  “Yes. The mother planet is all a civilization has to sustain it like a Petri dish in the lab, you know?”

  Her eyes lit with passion for the topic. He felt himself stir in response. The female was extraordinary. An unexpected gift after long years of searching for a mate.

  “I do know how fragile life is,” he said, taking her hand in his, stroking the silk of it with his thumb.

  “Tell me what you’ve done to sustain Eliava?”

  He launched into speech, telling her everything he knew about the protections Eliavan scientists employed. She was fascinated with the revelation of domed villages, completely self-contained, no harmful emissions allowed to escape. Of wide expanses of privately owned and cared for nature preserves. “The natural gifts are everyone’s business. I will bore you to sleep.”

  “No, no,” she said, but a huge yawn belied her words.

  “We must rest. It has been …,” he sought the correct words, “... an eventful and troubling day cycle.”

  She laughed. The tinkling soft music of her sounds caused him to close his eyes to savor as the beat of it battered against his defenses.

  “You underplay the reality of it, I think. It was a very strange, strange time.”

  Her eyes became serious, troubled, darkening with dread. “If I believe your story, will I be a fool?”

  Anger hot and quick fired in him. “Does not matter if you believe me or disbelieve me. Believe your own memories, little cat. Search them for the answers.”

  She watched him, shocked at his abruptness. “G’Ran. I will check the perimeter of your territory before we retire.”

  “I will go with you.”

  “No. Stay here. Rest. I will be gone a while. If I do not return, go to your brother.”

  She stood from the chair. “Why? What do you think is out there?”

  “Two of my kind have followed me here.”

  She gasped. “How do you know this?”

  “Matt saw their tracks on the ridge where we encountered your family.”