I left him on the couch after piling my new cat supplies on the coffee table before venturing to the bathroom. Ten minutes later, I was seated on the floor of the living room, my first aid kit splayed around me, and no idea where to go from there.
“Well, Mr Cat, I’m not exactly an expert here, so please bear with me,” I said. I tapped my lip with the tip of my finger as I took stock. “I could use the gauze to wrap your leg, but I think using something hard for a splint might be more helpful.”
Mr Cat didn’t even blink at me. Apparently he’d decided I was safe enough since he was now fast asleep on my couch.
“Hmmm.” As gently as I could, I took the cat’s left hind leg in hand, pulling it out from under him. His purring stopped immediately, but he didn’t open his eyes yet. Once I had his leg out, I prodded his foot up to the joint, where he suddenly yanked his foot back.
He glared at me through slitted eyes. Dude was not happy.
“Sorry, little guy, I know it must hurt.” I leaned back, not trying to go for his leg again without a plan. What I really needed was someone with experience.
I sighed as I slipped my phone out of my pocket and unlocked it to stare at my recent calls list. Mom was right at the top. She hadn’t left a message, but I knew she’d call again in the morning if I didn’t at least send her a text.
She might be an ER nurse with minimal pet experience, but I knew she’d know what to do. She always did. From twisting my ankle as a kid, to bringing home an injured bird—mom always knew exactly how to handle it. Together, we’d saved that bird, splinting its wing and feeding him in a small birdcage until he could fly once more. I never did see that little guy again, but I still remembered his joyful little chirp as he flew off into the park where we’d set him free.
Shit. I really needed my mom. But how was I supposed to explain two weeks of dodging her calls? Could I blame it on school? I had been busy with my final project, and she didn’t know I’d needed an extension. Maybe I could use that as an excuse.
I bit my lip. Though I knew it wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her, I needed to call and get her advice.
“It’s all for you, Mr Cat,” I grumbled, hitting redial on my mom’s contact before I lost my nerve.
She picked up on the second ring. “Clara! Finally! Where have you been?”
“Hi, Mom.” I smiled. I hadn’t realized how tense I was until her voice forced my shoulders to relax. “I’ve just been busy with school. Sorry I haven’t returned your calls.”
“Weren’t you supposed to be finished a week ago?”
Damn this woman remembers everything.
“Yeah, I was supposed to be, but I had to get an extension from my instructor. I had a hard time coming up with my final design,” I explained.
“Oh, I see. So you’re done now and everything has been submitted?” she continued, using her motherly-interrogation voice.
“Yes, Mom,” I said on a laugh. “I submitted everything last night.”
“Excellent! That’s my girl!” she beamed through the phone. My chest swelled with pride. What can I say; I’m a momma’s girl. “Now that you’re finished, we should celebrate!”
And with that, my stomach dropped. Shit, shit shit! “I don’t know if now is a good time.”
“What? Why not?”
I swallowed hard. Dammit! Should I use the cat as an excuse? No, that’s going to be settled tomorrow. I needed to think more long term.
“I’m, uh… sick! Yeah.” Oh my god, lamest excuse ever!
“Oh no, honey. I’m so sorry. I’ll bring you—”
“No, no! I don’t want to get you sick, Mom!”
“Honey, I’m sure I’ll be fine. You know I never get sick.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not a carrier! You don’t want to get your patients sick, do you?” I spluttered.
“Of course not,” she mumbled. “But you’re my daughter and—”
“Jamie and Gloria have been bringing me soup, and meds and tissues. Really, there’s no need. I don’t want to infect you.”
Mom sighed. “What great friends you have. I’m so happy they’ve been taking care of you, sweetie.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Of course they have. Don’t worry, I’ll be better soon and then we can celebrate.”
“I’m going to hold you to that!”
From the tone of her voice, I knew she meant it. If I wasn’t ‘better’ in a week or two, she’d be showing up at my apartment to drag me out for dinner. “Of course. So, Mom, I called for a reason.”
“What is it, honey?” Her voice rose an octave, worried.
“I was on my way home from the drugstore earlier,” I began, trying to play into the lie that I was sick, while simultaneously hold up my current lies. Damn I hated lying. So many stories to hold onto. “I read up on this nasal spray that’s supposed to work wonders for your sinuses, so I wanted to try it.”
“Honey, if you’re sick you should stay in bed! You do sound pretty stuffed up. The spray must not be working.”
“I haven’t had the chance to try it yet.”
“Oh?”
“Well… on my way home…” I quickly explained what had happened with Mr Cat, and how I’d gotten him home. I detailed his injury the best I could, and told Mom what I had on hand to deal with it.
“Okay honey, you’re going to want to splint that just like you said,” Mom said. She went from Mom Mode to Nurse Mode in two seconds flat. I could almost hear her thinking through the phone. She always hummed and hawed when she was weighing her options. “Using something sturdy would be best. Do you still have the paint stirring stick I left there when you moved in?”
“I think so!” I leapt to my feet and raced across the living room to the hall closet. When I first moved in, the landlord gave me the OK to repaint the bedroom, which had been a gross yellow-green before we painted it a soft pastel blue. I’d kept the leftover paint for touch ups, along with the rollers we hadn’t used, and of course, the paint stirring stick. I dug through my few pairs of shoes, boots and sandals littering the bottom of the closet before I found the remains of our painting operation. “Found it!”
“Good! You’re going to use that to hold the leg in place so it’ll heal properly. I want you to hold the stick on the outside of the leg, and use the gauze in your med kit to hold it in place. That should be good enough until you can get him to a vet.”
“Thank you, Mom!” I gushed. “You’re brilliant. I never would have thought to use the paint stick.”
Mom laughed. “I don’t know about brilliant!”
“Seriously, thank you.”
“You know I’d do anything for you, honey.”
“Of course.”
“Well I’ll let you go. You need to get some rest, young lady.” Stern Mom Mode was back.
“Yes, Mom,” I said, rolling my eyes playfully.
“I love you.”
“Love you too. Talk to you later.”
“Bye, sweetie.”
“Bye.” I disconnected the call and set my phone on the table as I kneeled beside Mr Cat. “I’m going to need something to call you,” I mused. “You do have a Garfield look about you.”
One of his eyes popped open to glare at me.
“Or not. Fine.” I chuckled as I prepared the makeshift splint. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you and tomorrow we’ll figure out where your home is.”
Mr Cat closed his eyes once more, a roar of a purr shaking his whole body. I smiled as I did the work to splint his leg. He didn’t complain, or even open an eye as I worked.
By the time I was finished, I was yawning and oh so ready for bed. “All right, Mr Cat. Sleep time.” I slowly stood, my legs complaining as I straightened them out. I groaned as I stretched the muscles. He opened his eyes once more, and moved to stand. “No, not yet! You should keep your weight off of that.”
I gave a quick look around my apartment. “Okay I’ll set you up for the night, and then it’s bed time.”
&n
bsp; As quickly as I could, I set up the litter box next to my bed, made sure Mr Cat drank some water, and put out a little bowl of food for him. He didn’t seem interested in it, and instead curled up under my covers.
“I suppose you can sleep with me tonight,” I said as I slipped under the sheets. I sighed, stroking his soft fur as he brushed up against me. “Good night, Mr Cat. Sleep well.”
His answering purr had me snuggling closer and closing my eyes. It wasn’t long before I fell into dreams of a pretty cat racing through traffic.
Chapter 3
Warmth wrapped around me, cradling me like sunshine on a hot summer day. I smiled and yawned as morning light crept across my face, making it impossible to fall back to sleep.
What time is it?
I hadn’t set an alarm—with school done and no job, there was no need for one. If the sun was already beaming inside my apartment, it had to be late in the morning.
I shifted to reach for my phone on the nightstand, but froze when I realized I could barely move. My eyes flashed open, and I stared at the naked chest of a man. Heat scorched my cheeks and alarm bells sounded inside my head.
What the fuck?! Why is there a naked man in my bed?
My mind raced and my breaths came too quickly as panic licked up my throat. Some pervert must have snuck into my apartment last night. I had no idea how—I always locked my doors—but maybe I’d left a window unlocked. Someone could have climbed the escape ladder.
Okay Clara, don’t panic.
I tried to take even breaths, but it wasn’t working. This could be a rapist or a serial killer for all I knew. I had to get out of here.
As slowly as I could, I inched back towards the edge of the bed. The man groaned under his breath and shifted slightly. I froze, watching with wide-eyed horror for him to wake up. After a full sixty seconds of listening to my heart beat out of my chest, I realized he was still asleep. Thank fuck.
Gently, I gripped the forearm wrapping around my waist and lifted it up just enough that I could slide out from under it before slowly lowering it back onto the bed.
Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up! I chanted in my head as I slid out from beneath the sheets. The man shifted again, burying his face in my pillow. I didn’t recognize what I could see of him, but his shock of orange hair stood out on the white of my sheets. I didn’t know anyone with hair like that—he was definitely a stranger. But why did he have to crawl into my bed of all places?
I worked my jaw as I carefully slid off the edge of the bed and got my feet under me. My eyes widened as I realized I could smell him all around me. Shit. I forgot I’d taken out the tissues last night.
But his scent of spice and cloves reminded me of something—I had one sure fire way to protect myself.
“Okay please work for me this time,” I mumbled as I inched around the bed towards the door. “Demon Bitch Mode activate!”
Despite all the cartoons I’d seen in my twenty-two years, whispering my power, or spell or whatever, did not in fact make me transform. Cursing, I flung my hand out to my side in a desperate attempt to dig through space and into the void where my scythe lay.
“Oh my god, come on!” I hissed. “Demon Mode activate damn it!”
The soft breathing from the bed finally stopped. The man shifted slightly, peeking out from my pillow with one startlingly green eye.
I yelped and ran. I needed something to protect myself with if my demoness wasn’t going to show. I raced to the kitchen as a heavy set of feet hit my bedroom floor.
“Hey, wait!” he called after me.
Nope! I slid into the kitchen, my chest heaving as I looked for my knife block.
“Hey!” he shouted again. “Where are you going?”
My heartbeat sped up as I leapt for the knife block, grabbing the biggest of the bunch and yanking it out as fast as I could. I spun in time to find the pervert standing in my kitchen doorway completely naked.
“Oh my god!” I almost brought my hand up to cover my eyes, but thought better of it when I realized I’d need to see to protect myself. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”
My hand shook around the handle as I pointed it at his chest. He was only a few feet away and I’m sure could close that distance in seconds. He was fairly tall, at least six feet, and had a lithe, muscled body with a well pronounced V heading down towards—oh god. I still couldn’t believe there was a naked stranger in my home. What is happening?
“I can explain,” he said. His lips curved in a smirk. A fucking smirk!
“Oh yeah?” I tightened my grip on the butcher knife. “Is it something like, you were prowling the streets in search of innocent girls to play with? You can get the hell out of my apartment before I call the police, pervert.”
His smirk grew into a full on grin. Was this guy nuts? “I’m not a pervert, although…” he trailed off as his gaze slid down my body. Of course I was still in pajama shorts and a tank top—not exactly the most badass clothes to be wearing at a time like this.
“Get out,” I demanded. “Now.”
“Or what?” He stepped closer. “You’re far too sweet to stab me.”
I narrowed my eyes. He knew nothing about me. If he tried to hurt me, I would stab him, and he’d be lucky if that’s all I did. With one sniff of his blood I’d probably go Demon Mode. If I did, it was all over for him.
He raised an eyebrow and his toothy smile slowly fell. “Or maybe you would.”
My pounding heart slammed against my ribs. I gritted my teeth and motioned at him with the knife once more. “I told you to get the hell out!” I shouted.
The man raised his hands in surrender, but before he could make a move, the front door to my apartment slammed open, cracking off the wall.
“Clara!” Ryker burst inside, a wild look on his face.
He took two steps inside before he froze. His gaze slid from me, shakily holding a knife, to the mystery man who was completely naked just a few feet away from me.
“Ryker,” I breathed out his name. I was so fucking relieved I wanted to go limp right there.
Ryker turned his gaze back on the pervert and narrowed his eyes. He bared his teeth, an honest to god growl rumbling in his throat. He leapt at the mystery man, murder written all over his face.
The man’s eyes flew wide as he jumped back gracefully, barely evading Ryker’s reaching hands. “Hold on a second!”
Ryker didn’t pause. Instead, he lunged at the man again, landing a punch to his jaw before the man grabbed Ryker’s wrist. He yanked Ryker’s arm hard, twisting him around as he tried to pull him into a sleeper hold. But Ryker was faster, and probably stronger too. He got his arm free and elbowed the man in the gut before slamming him into the wall.
My heart raced as I watched the two fight. Ryker was far deadlier than I’d ever realized. In the short time we’d known each other, I’d never seen this vicious side to him, and it disturbed me to realize that this protective, raging side of him was kind of hot. I never thought I’d be the girl who likes being rescued, but if it was Ryker doing the rescuing then maybe I’d become one.
“Can you hold on a second, buddy?” the mystery man asked, wincing. His cheek reddened from Ryker’s punch, and he seemed to be limping, favoring his right leg over his left.
Wait a fucking minute.
I glanced down the hall at my bedroom door. I didn’t see a cat inside, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t hiding out from all the noise. Still, I slowly looked back at the mystery man with the bright orange hair. His face was long and narrow with chiseled cheekbones and cat-like green eyes.
My eyes widened as Ryker picked up the man by the throat and slammed him down on the tiled floor. The man choked and coughed, but Ryker’s hold only tightened.
“Wait!” I grabbed Ryker’s arm, pulling back on it. “Wait a second!”
Ryker was breathing hard, and it took him a minute to turn and look at me. Our eyes met, but instead of their usual red-brown, they were crimson. “Did h
e hurt you?”
I blinked, for some reason surprised by the question. “N-No. I’m fine.”
The man pushed on Ryker’s wrist in an attempt to dislodge his hand, but Ryker didn’t budge. “Good,” Ryker said. “I’ll take care of this. You should step into the other room and plug your nose.”
My heart leapt. He didn’t mean… “You’re going to kill him?” I gasped.
Ryker’s jaw hardened, and he didn’t answer.
“No!” I snapped. My fingers tightened on his arm. “You can’t just kill him! I think… I think he might be the cat I brought home last night.”
“Cat?” Ryker’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at the man whose throat he was crushing. Cat Man was still struggling valiantly, but seemed to be losing steam.
“Yes,” I sighed, frustrated. “Let him go so we can figure this out.”
Ryker scoffed.
“I’m serious. Let him go. It’s not like he can hurt me as long as you’re here,” I reasoned.
Ryker narrowed his eyes at Cat Man, and then at me. “Are you sure?”
No. “Yes.”
Ryker gave Cat Man one last glare before he stood. In one fluid motion he was on his feet, arm braced in front of me, forcing me to back up into the kitchen.
Cat Man coughed violently as soon as he was freed, turning on his side as he heaved. My insides constricted. If he was the cat I’d helped yesterday, I didn’t want to see him hurt. Hopefully Ryker hadn’t seriously damaged his windpipe.
“Are you okay?” I asked when he finally stopped hacking up a lung.
Cat Man looked up at us, a slow smirk working its way up his face. How on earth could he still smile after that? Ryker had almost killed him. “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.” He winked and stood, clutching his ribs where Ryker had kneeled on his abdomen.
Ryker bristled and took a step closer. “Just who the hell are you and what do you want?”
Cat Man barely spared Ryker a glance before his gaze slid back to me. “I’m Ky. Thanks for saving my life.”
Reaper's Fire Page 3