Claw

by Skye MacKinnon

  Claw

  Catnip Assassins Book 6

  Skye MacKinnon

  Contents

  A quick word before we get started

  What Happened Before

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Also By

  Claw © Copyright 2020 Skye MacKinnon

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organisations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Cover by Ravenborn Covers.

  Published by Peryton Press.

  * * *

  skyemackinnon.com

  Blurb

  They took her freedom. Now she’ll take their lives.

  Voluntary kidnapping. That’s new even for Kat. Trapped, tortured and without any sign of her sister’s whereabouts, she can only do one thing: release the beast within and hope she doesn’t lose her humanity. Nor her family.

  Relationships will be broken. New alliances will be forged. And yes, there will be more kittens.

  The sixth book in this purrfectly exciting urban fantasy series full of action, suspense and cat puns. A slow burn reverse harem where Kat won't have to choose.

  A quick word before we get started

  As you will know from the previous three books, this series is set in a world very similar to our own, but there are some deciding differences. Technology has developed differently, and while there are many devices you may be used to, such as televisions, there are no mobile phones, cars or the internet. No guns, either.

  This book is written in British English and uses some British expressions and idioms. Please don’t see these as spelling mistakes. We say mum rather than mom, use a lot of ‘s’ instead of ‘z’ (cosy, realise, …) and use ‘got’ as the past participle of ‘get’ (instead of ‘gotten’).

  And finally, subscribe to Skye’s newsletter for updates about new releases: skyemackinnon.com/newsletter.

  You’ll even get a free book for subscribing, so it’s totally worth it.

  For Darwin.

  I hope you have all the dandelions you ever want.

  Thank you for the six years you let me be your servant.

  What Happened Before

  In Lick, the fifth book in the series, Kat and her family packed up their bags and moved to Attenburgh, ready to start a new life. Before she’s properly settled, she gets a mysterious letter offering her the ‘business opportunity of the century’. Obviously, she can’t resist and is soon in the middle of a treasure hunt that brings her employees into danger.

  At the same time, she starts working for the mayor of Attenburgh, Lady Lara, a woman both beautiful and intelligent. While her job is supposed to be protecting the mayor, it’s actually Kat who gets attacked and almost killed by a siren.

  In the middle of trying to find out who’s out to kill her, Kat and her friends manage to steal a diamond at a Jewellers’ Guild Ball (despite some potentially deadly traps), but Kat isn’t very happy when she finds out who gave them the mysterious task: the mayor herself. Lady Lara was out to purge the city of the most successful thieves and assassins, but never intended to harm Kat.

  Grudgingly, Kat agrees to work as the mayor’s advisor and help her use different methods to stop the evil sirens using Attenburgh’s underworld to do their bidding. Before she can start her new job though, a siren appears at her doorstep with Kat’s missing sister/clone, K7. He gives her a choice: he’ll kill her sister unless she becomes his captive. Of course, Kat chooses to save her sister and steps into the cage the siren brought for her.

  Chapter One

  Being kidnapped is no fun at all. Being tortured is even more tedious.

  I’ve lost all track of time. Has it been weeks? Months? My cell doesn’t have a window and the flickering light on the ceiling stays on every hour of the day. In the beginning, I tried to keep count of days, but I quickly lost all interest in that. What does it matter how long I’ve been kept prisoner? All I should focus on is getting out of here.

  Which is easier said than done. The cell door has no lock I could pick with my claws. There is no window to climb out of. My food and water are delivered through a pipe to the right of the door. It’s wide enough for me to stick my arm in, but it’s no means of escape.

  I get food at random intervals. Sometimes they keep me waiting for what feels like ten hours, sometimes I get a new delivery through the pipe while I’m still eating the last meal. I bet they do it on purpose to make it harder for me to adjust to a routine.

  Eating is my only entertainment. I’ve not spoken to anyone since I was voluntarily kidnapped. I don’t know if they keep my sister in the same building. I don’t even know if the siren is here. He’s not come to visit. He was probably watching me through the camera on the ceiling until I covered it in my own shit. It was the only sticky material I had access to.

  Instead of a toilet, they’ve given me a potty. Luckily, it’s adult size. The container beneath is lined with a bag, and when the bag is full, I knot it close and squeeze it into the pipe. It then gets sucked out just before my next meal is delivered. It’s a yucky way of doing things, but I’ve got used to it. What I really miss is a shower. I wash myself with the water I get with my food, but no matter how clean I try to keep myself and my clothes, I’ve started to smell rank. I wouldn’t want to be in my own company, but sadly I’m forced to be.

  And all this time, not a single word from anyone. No guards move outside my door. The pipe is my only contact to the outside world. I’ve shouted into it, hoping it might be connected to other cells, but no luck. For all I know, I’m the only prisoner here.

  I’m not sure what the walls are made of or how thick they are, but no sound filters through them. Even with my cat senses, I have no idea what’s going on around me.

  Basically, I’m bored as fuck. My meal delivery has become the highlight of my day. I savour every bite of the surprisingly good food, trying to distinguish between the ingredients. It’s my game. Sadly, I have no idea if I ever get the correct answer. There’s no one to ask what they put into my food. Today – or it could have been yesterday – I got raisin dumplings along with two bottles of water. I used one of them to wash my hair. It’s a matted mess that resembles a bird’s nest built by a very inexperienced bird. I may have to cut it off once I get out of here.

  It’s not if. It’s when.

  I’m not giving up. My team is out there. My family. I doubt they’ll just forget about me and move on. They’ll be looking for me. Annoyingly, I don’t even know if I’m still in Attenburgh. They drugged me as soon as I entered the cage.

  I could be back home. Or I could be in an entirely different city. There's no way to know. Luckily, all my men are excellent trackers. Lennox especially with his wolf senses.

  Still, I can't rely on
them to rescue me. I'm my own woman. If there is a way out of here, I will find it. When they finally open my door.

  They have found a way to torture me without ever entering my cell. It’s kind of ingenious, if I may say so myself. Loud music that threatens to make my eardrums explode. The floor turning scalding hot while I’m sitting down. It’s why I always stay close to my cot now. Burns heal slowly even with my shifter healing abilities. The worst is the fog though. It comes every few days and fills my cell until I can’t help but breathe it in. It burns my lungs, steals my strength, gives me the most terrifying hallucinations. The worst is that there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I can’t fight an enemy who’s not in the same room with me.

  I sigh and take a swig out of my water bottle. I swirl the liquid around my mouth, moving it in a perfect circle. Yet another one of my new hobbies. There are only so many activities you can do in a room with nothing but a potty and a bed. I glare at the cot. The bedding is the same as when I arrived here and it's smelly as hell. No wonder, since I'm smelly too. I've tried sleeping without the blanket, but it gets cold in here. Some nights - or days, who knows - I shift to sleep, but that is getting ever harder. Without the chance to move and run, my cat is restless. I'm close to losing control of her every time I shift. I've seen shifters whose animal sides have turned crazy. It's not a pretty sight. So I stay human as much as I can, biding my time. Once the door opens, I'll shift and tear apart anyone who stands in my way. They'll regret locking me up. Not that I'll give them much time to feel regret before I'll rip out their throats.

  I lick my lips. It's going to be very satisfying. I miss the smell of blood. And the taste.

  No, that's wrong. I don't want to fall victim to those cravings again. Killing is good. Enjoying my victims' blood isn't. I'm an assassin, not a serial killer. There's a difference. Yes, it's a fine line, but the line exists. Lennox and I had a long discussion about that once before he escaped the Pack. I smile at the memory. It was after his first kill. He was a gentle boy back then, someone who would never have hurt anyone if he hadn't been forced to do so. The Pack turned him into a killer. There's not much left of that innocent boy who decided he was going to be an assassin rather than a murderer. I wonder if he still feels remorse when he kills, or if it's become his normality.

  I've always been different. I enjoy the hunt, the adrenaline, the kill. The moment the life flickers out in my victim's eyes. Extinguishing the spark of life is one of the most exhilarating feelings in the world. Only good sex comes anywhere close.

  Not that I'd ever kill without reason. I'm not a monster. It's my profession to assassinate, and I enjoy it. Killing someone who deserves it is far more enjoyable than randomly murdering someone. I think it's thanks to Lennox that I don't overstep that line. He's made me a better person without even knowing.

  My heart clenches at the thought of him. And of the others. Gryphon. Ryker. My sisters. Bethany, Lily and Benjamin. They're all my family. Growing up, I always tried not to get attached. The pain of losing Lennox had been too much. I'd built stone walls around my heart after he left, unwilling to ever feel that kind of pain again. Maybe it was a mistake to let them crush my walls and let them into my heart. Is the happiness I feel when being around them worth the agony of missing them?

  I'm not sure. Sometimes I wake up on a pillow wet with tears. I bet if I shook my pillow a couple of times, I'd get enough salt from it for an entire saltshaker. I rarely remember my dreams, but I assume they're about my family.

  I drink the last of my water and stick the empty bottle into the pipe. It will be sucked in whenever they decide to bring me my next meal. I’m already looking forward to it. Not because I’m hungry, but because I’m bored.

  In the past, I cut up the water bottles with my claws to make improvised knives and later art. Not that I’m a very arty person, but boredom is bringing out strange sides to me that I didn’t know existed.

  I later destroyed my plastic sculptures in a fit of rage. I guess that’s good. In case I’m rescued soon, I don’t want to leave any evidence of my newfound creative skills. It wouldn’t fit the no-nonsense persona I’ve painstakingly built over the years. There’s never been room in my life for useless hobbies such as art, and that won’t change. Even though I kind of liked my sculptures.

  I pull my blanket around my shoulders and curl up on the bed, trying not to breathe in through my nose. It's hard to relax when you smell your own rancid odour. If it weren't so cold in this cell, I'd stuff the blanket in the pipe. Maybe I should try it nonetheless. They might give me a new one. But I'm not sure I want to risk it. I laugh darkly. Look at me, suddenly afraid to take risks. That's so not like me. Risktaker is my middle name.

  Being in this cell is breaking me. It's a slow process, but I know it's happening. There's nothing I can do about it. I can't escape without someone opening the door. All I can try to do is keep a hold on my sanity.

  One day, that door will have to open.

  Chapter Two

  I stare at myself in the mirror. My hair hangs in dirty streaks, hiding most of my face. I pull one strand back and tuck it behind my ear, exposing my right eye. I gasp.

  No, I don't. Well, I do, mentally, but the girl in the mirror doesn't. She just stares at her reflection.

  She's not me.

  I'm not her.

  My thoughts are sluggish and it takes me far too long to realise who she is. My sister. K7. I'm looking through her eyes. Is this a dream? It has to be.

  I take the opportunity to look at her, take her in. Back when I saw her with the siren, I didn't have the time to properly look at my sister. I recognised her, but that was about it.

  Obviously, the first thing that stands out is her right eye. It's bright silver, almost metallic. I've never seen anything like it. It's natural, I think, not some kind of technology implant, but it's still a little creepy. The rest of her face - at least the parts that peek out from behind her wild mane - is how I remember myself looking at her age. Her lips are pressed tightly together, but that’s the only sign of any emotion she might feel. Her face is blank, especially her eyes. It creeps me out. Despite everything that was done to me, I never looked like that. I never gave up. I fought, I rebelled, I got punished, but I always got back up and continued to fight even harder. It's different for her. Little K7. She's dead inside and I think she knows it.

  She keeps staring into the mirror. I'd love to turn away, but I'm trapped, unable to stop looking through her eyes. Please let me wake up from this nightmare. Now.

  She blinks and I realise she's not done that the entire time I've been inside of her. Creepy. It's what they say about psychopaths, right? That they don't blink as often as normal people. But this has been several minutes. I don't know what's wrong with my sister, but I bet it's a lot. Who knows what they've done to her since she was created. She's not wearing a collar, which scares me the most. She's still here, she's not run away, which must mean she's completely under their control with no need for a collar. I really don't want to doubt my ability to save her, but I'm starting to. She might be too far gone. But no, I couldn't leave her behind. There's no chance of that. When I escape, she's coming with me and I'm going to find a way to turn her into the happy child she should be. Both Caitlin and K8 are more or less rehabilitated. I'm sure it can be done again.

  With another blink, she turns away from the mirror, giving me a view of the room we're in. It's a small bedroom, with a single bed, a wardrobe and a table and chair, but what really draws my eye is the screen on the wall. I would have staggered back if I'd been in my own body. Then I would have covered my eyes and tried to forget.

  But I can't. There's nothing I can do but stare at myself, in the white room, screaming because of the searing hot floor. And the worst thing is that I feel K7 smile.

  It must have been months. I have lost all track of time, but it feels like many, many weeks have passed. Eat, torture, sleep, repeat. I’ve settled into a routine, dragging myself from day to day. The only thing t
hat keeps me going is the thought of my family. They’re out there, somewhere. I have something to live for. I need to keep going.

  The first sign something new is about to happen is the lights flashing brighter. I squeeze my eyes shut as my room is suddenly drenched in something akin to sunlight on a summer’s day. No more dim, flickering light. I always assumed the bulb was faulty, but it seems that was yet another way of them to annoy me.

  I get to my feet, trying to stand as tall as I can without wobbling. The food rations have decreased recently and I'm constantly feeling light-headed. If their intention is to starve me, they're doing an excellent job. My plan had always been to shift as soon as the door opens, but I doubt I'd have the strength to do that now. If I shift, I might get stuck in between shapes, and that could end up killing me. No, I'm going to have to stay human and just hope that I'll be able to get out of here without my cat's additional strength.

  Footsteps approach from afar, echoing in what must be a narrow corridor outside my cell. It's the first time in months that I've heard another person. I always thought I'd do well as a hermit, but to be honest, I'm looking forward to seeing someone else, even if it's an enemy. Now the question is, wait and see what's happening, or attack and run? A few weeks ago, I'd done the latter without question, but I've grown too weak. I don't know how long I could run without collapsing. I grit my teeth in frustration. I've turned from a strong, successful assassin into a pitiful prisoner, too feeble to escape her goalers. It makes me want to cry and scream. And then kill those who've done this to me.