Hunting the She-Cat Read online

  Hunting the She-Cat

  By

  Jacki Bentley

  (C) Copyright by Jacki Bentley, August 2012

  (C) Cover Art by Eliza Black, August 2012

  ISBN 978-1-60394-721-3

  Published by New Concepts Publishing

  Smashwords Edition

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.store.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  The female was pretty.

  While she was still unaware of his presence, Lugar stood in the open door to her office and watched her.

  Her desk was oriented at an angle to the door offering a full view. Standing, legs spread slightly, she rifled through her desktop papers, making noise, looking urgently for something.

  Tall, but fine-boned and delicate, she held herself well, elegant and regal in a red blouse and trim black trousers. Caramel hair fell in large, rolling curls at her shoulders.

  There was an edge of efficient toughness he expected from one of their kind. The air of it emanated from her as she worked. She gave off a sense of focused calm and quiet serenity, a feeling of capability.

  No one besides another Homo tigon could stand unseen at her door. He’d lay his life on that.

  His blood rose. An urge to see her in her natural feline shape came over him.

  He sucked in air, striving for control.

  Closing the door behind him, he turned the lock. The scraping snick seemed to echo into the room, loud and final.

  She jerked, then raised her head to the air at the noise -- the only sign he’d startled her.

  “Leave the door open,” she ordered. She unconsciously fingered the gold necklace she wore at her attractive neck.

  Good. She was not cowed by finding a strange male in her domain then, a sign of her strength and courage.

  “I need to speak with you alone,” he said. “No one can hear.”

  “I prefer it open.” She walked past him in a feminine huff to see to it herself, unlocked and pushed the door open with more force than necessary.

  The scent of her weakened his knees.

  “As you wish.” He grinned, an effort to reassure her.

  “Do you have an appointment, sir?”

  “No.”

  “How may I help you then? I expect a real client any moment.”

  “I am real enough.”

  “Poor choice of words. A scheduled client will be here very soon.” She looked to her shiny wrist band time log.

  “It is I who will help you, female.”

  She raised a brow skeptically, haughty, doubting his words. A wave of anger at her unwelcoming demeanor came, but he suppressed it fast as illogical. She did not know him. He was being reactive. Off balance from her unexpected appeal. An argument with her would not serve his mission.

  “I have no idea who you are.”

  “I came for you. It’s past time.”

  She stiffened. Her amazing golden eyes went as cold as those of a hunting cat. “For me? I must have misunderstood.” Now shaking her head, the soft-looking curls bounced. “Did you say you came for me?”

  “You should know we’d come for you, that your kind would not leave you here forever.” He took a couple of strides to her. “Do you not sense the difference in me? That I am like you. Like your true nature. You are the lost she-cat. I came for you.”

  The female sniffed the air, nostrils flared slightly, and then stepped back away from him, lovely eyes going wide with comprehension and shock, which to her credit, she hid fast behind stubbornness.

  “Yes, that’s it. Use your sense of smell. It will always serve you well.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She did something with her hair then, tucking it roughly behind a tiny ear. Charming. He saw more of her silken jaw line now.

  “None,” she added for emphasis.

  “Do you not have times when you seek the wilds, pretty eyes? Times when the need to run free takes over, calling to your very blood. The need to hunt victims in the dark?”

  “Hey.” She shook her head violently now. “I have enough problems of my own today without your puzzles, Mister. In this law office, we help victims here.”

  Frustration beat at him. She should know who she was. Either she was a good liar or she did not know.

  “Can you tell me you never feel different than the humans around you?”

  Her time here may have driven her she-cat nature under, repressed it.

  Watching her closely, he continued, “We’d wondered how long the team lived, how long they’d had to teach you the complex ways of cat shapers.”

  She held up a hand clearly asking him to stop. “Already said I have no idea what you’re talking about. I have no idea who sent you to play this joke on me, but it’s time you left.”

  “At least you must accept this much, little feline. We are both cats, you and I.” Lugar smiled his most affective and charming smile. He hoped.

  Her eyes narrowed but she did not reward him with a returned grin as he expected. Instead, her petite face turned as hard as stone.

  “I’ve traveled far to reach you. I will escort you home today.”

  “I have two more clients today, even if I allowed strangers to escort me home, I could not today.”

  “Stop this obtuse resistance,” he ordered. “You know I do not speak of home here on this world, Earth.”

  She moved a black notebook around her desk. “I have no idea what you mean,” she repeated. But her eyes betrayed her knowledge. Some knowledge, however sparse was there in her green gaze.

  “Interesting. Perhaps you’ve forgotten then. Your journey here was long, long ago.”

  “I made no journey.”

  “You cannot lie to me, sweet one.” He tried to remain calm and soothing but it became more and more difficult with each passing moment. Was it possible the little she-cat had lost all of her memory of her past, of their world? She’d been only five years old when the mission was lost. Or perhaps the trauma of her difference from the humans caused her to deny it even to herself.

  “You are a feline shapeshifter from Eliava moon of the Aldeen Galaxy. Our people are advanced in culture and technology. We’ve flown the black of space for many generations now. It has taken too long to get back for you.”

  “No. No. No.”

  “Hear me. Two hundred and seventeen years ago, an exploration team landed many … er …,” he struggled for the word for distance she knew. Miles. “Many miles southeast of here, in a place the native people called Tenasi. With you aboard. As a five year old child.”

  She shook her head vigorously but a spark of curiosity flared in her eyes. Then they darkened with determination.

  “Impossible. I am from Tennessee, but I’m not the one you speak of. No. No one can live hundreds of years. No one.” She waved a hand as if seeking words. “This lost cat shaper … er … shifter … woman from another world is not me.”

  “You are.”

  She was. He knew it because, from the exact landing site of their team many years ago, he’d tracked her to this city called, Chicago. The scent had been old and faded in places. She’d traveled hundreds of miles from the remote woodlands chosen for the landing. No doubt about it, he’d found the correct female. The scent of their kind was all over her.

  “Listen to me,” she said in hushed tones. “You cannot go around talking this way. Someone will throw a straight jacket on you and lock you up. With my luck today, they’ll take me with you. I lost a tough case today, one I needed to win. One the
global environment needed me to win, dammit.”

  “Good, you fight for the habitat of all. Good.” On her mother’s side she was of the Wood clan. A female of her power could bring a sea change to his turbulent homeworld. “The Homo tigon species and Eliava can use such fervor too.”

  “Eli … what?”

  The female looked as if a memory stirred.

  “The name of our world is Eliava. I can see it’s familiar to you.”

  “No.”

  “But you know the name, pretty one.” She knew the word. “It may be a dim memory, but you know it. I see that you do. Say it for me.”

  “Eliava.”

  Satisfaction burned through him as she did as he’d ordered, even in such a small thing. His masculine ego roared with the thrill of the accomplishment. But now he watched her rock back on her heels and turn from him.

  She spun back rapidly. “You.” She shook a delicate finger. “Do not look at me that way.”

  “How do I look at you?” He gave her another flirty smile. He hoped the smile came of as flirty and not even more threatening.

  “As if you will devour me whole, that’s how.”

  “Not so. I can’t do so in this human form.”

  “Forget I said that.”

  Lugar threw back his head and laughed at her perception. “Indeed, I’d like to do just that, female.”

  “Stop calling me things, like ‘female’ and ‘honey’ and ‘pretty’. Stop it now. I can almost hear you purr. No one calls me ‘honey’. I’m not sweet. I’m not nice. I’m a lawyer.”

  Her frown was so damn fierce. Any other male with good sense would step away.

  Suddenly uncomfortable in the blasted human skin, Lugar flexed and rolled his shoulders. The furless skin caused him to think, to feel, to want this stranger, to need to bring her to him. Too much raw sensation crawling across his naked skin. Not enough of the cat’s natural sharp instincts in this shape for his own protection. He wasn’t good in social situations with human forms, never had been. Not even with other shifter females, as he knew her to be. She could deny it all week but he knew it.

  To relax and calm himself, he spread his palms, flexing and arching his fingers. How he wanted to let them morph to claws and walking pads.

  Wary and alert, the female followed the movement of his hands as if tantalized by it, curious in spite her better judgment.

  He could use that.

  He took a step toward her, held out a hand, palm out in invitation. “You must come with me. Now. There is need of urgency. And no time for long explanations. We waste our time with talking this way. We have a limited window of travel time.”

  The glimpse of interested female vanished and she placed her hand on a tiny square thing, flipping it open and clutching it like a lifeline.

  “Wait.”

  She stilled, curiosity sparking again in her vibrant golden eyes. She closed the thing back. “Alright, alright. Tell me why you’ve sought me out? The truth this time. Are you from a newspaper or something? I have enemies in the legal community, not many, but a few would like to embarrass me.”

  Exasperation whipped through him. He was done with explaining. She could believe his story or not. Apparently she wanted answers but didn’t like the ones she’d received.

  “The truth should never embarrass.”

  She pushed a weary hand through her hair causing it to tumble and bounce. “But sometimes it does.”

  “Megisha, hear me. I’m not your --” He halted. To go so far as to say he was not her enemy might not be the entire truth.

  “My name is Misha.”

  “You misunderstand. Megisha is from our language, a term for an innocent maiden.”

  “Whoa, I am no maiden, buddy. I’ve had my share of relationships.”

  Hell, he’d somehow offended her female pride.

  He lowered his voice. “It can also mean a child.”

  “Oh, that’s better.”

  “Or, like you would say, an endearment like, what is the word? Yes, like ‘darling’.”

  Her flashing eyes told him not so many lovers and none like he could be to her. But, still, he had to ask, “Are you saying you have an Alpha male?”

  She lifted her pointed and graceful little chin. “I have a boyfriend. Bronson Winston. Bronson.”

  He laughed. “Hah! You say the other male’s name as if a talisman against my own power over you.”

  “No.”

  “Have it your way. But I see the truth of my words in your expression, megisha. Tell me. Is this Bronson Winston committed to you?”

  After a small, thoughtful silence, she continued, “Soon to be fiancé.”

  “Soon to be?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not now? This does not sound so definite to me.” Amusement at her need to protect herself from him with an absent male improved his mood.

  His counterpoint seemed to give her pause. “Oh. It’s not settled yet, but we … er we … we’ve been together for two years. It’s time to think of the future.”

  “Two years is a long time. Young? By now you and he should have young.” His heart pounded with dread of the answer. The calculations showed she neared her first breeding cycle. What if they’d miscalculated the timing? What if it had happened last year and she’d already taken a male and bred with him.

  “Hmm? What. Oh, by ‘young’ you mean children. No, no, not yet.” She waved one of her delicate hands. “I’m far too busy right now. Career, you know, my legal firm, has to get going good before I can afford an extended leave of absence.”

  His heart pumped with relief. “I see. So you are unclaimed and perhaps even unbedded.”

  “No. Hey. This is so none of your business. Who says unbedded anyway?”

  The dread eased. There was hope she was unclaimed then. If she’d been driven to mate for young, there would be no thought to those practicalities. A female with children was hard to budge from their territory much less move off to other realms as he intended for this one. He stepped a bit closer.

  “I am not so good with your language.”

  “Hah. You’re good enough.”

  If he could touch her, examine the pulse points at her wrist or better her neck, he would know much about her, her health, her needs. He closed a fist around her wrist but she jumped and jerked her hand away. A thrill shot through him. The strength of her was like no other female he’d encountered before. “You’re strong. Even for a cat shaper.”

  “I work out. Have to. Too much sitting time at the desk. For God’s sake, why am I telling you all this?” She lowered her voice and muttered, “Those wicked green eyes of yours are hypnotizing me.” But he heard it and laughed. “I need you to leave my office! Now!” She waved to the door.

  “Are you sure that is what you need from me, female?” He stepped into her space, breathing in her floral fragrance in a show of defiance in the face of her loud commands.

  “If we were in the wilds --” He stopped. If they were in the wilds of his home, he would simply bully her; seduce her into traveling with him. Not realistic here. The travelers of his race had been nearly decimated last time they visited this world, over two hundred years ago. Every male had had a gun and walked the woods with it. At the time, they’d lost more than this stubborn small female and her parents. He had no desire to bring down the modern warriors on himself. That little gray flip thing was likely a communicator.

  She was fingering her necklace, looking less of herself now. “How do you explain to the human inhabitants of this world that you are over two hundred years of age? That you show little signs of age?”

  Aha. A nerve had been hit with that. She dropped her eyes for the first time. She began to pace back and forth behind her large wooden desk now, trapped by his knowledge of her.

  “If you will excuse me, sir, I have some pressing work to finish. As I said before.”

  She looked edgy, more than ready to be done with him.

  “I expect a client any moment,’ sh
e continued. “I’m not the woman you seek. Not me. I have no interest in Eliava.”

  Chapter Two

  Faced with the very long-legged male intruder to her world, it was all Misha Red Bird could do to stay calm, to breathe deeply and remain in control of her senses.

  The big bastard had apparently charmed his way past the motherly Mildred out at the front desk with no delay whatsoever.

  The male wore some sort of casual attire that she could not place. The colors were muted tones and the tailored lines of the suit looked elegant and comfortable. She felt herself drawn helplessly into his deep green eyes. The color contrast to his golden blonde hair was amazing.

  God, he watched her with cat’s eyes. He’d just said he meant to ‘take her home’ to Eliava. ‘Back to her true people’.

  This office and the practice of law was her home, her life. Legal matters made sense to her when the rest of the world was wacky and hard to explain. She’d had many years to learn the law’s logic and every nuance.

  She was going nowhere with him alive.

  At first, when he’d barged in and spoke of finding her, she thought he meant her Native American people.

  That her adopted uncle, Joseph Red Bird, was ill and had sent him to her.

  Joe’s great grandfather had found her wandering the mountains of Tennessee and taken her in; fed the young child she’d been then.

  God help her, after a point in each generation, she kept her distance to hide that she did not age, then went back to them to visit to live a time. She was always drawn back to the wild hills of home.

  She shared with no one that she could change into a cat. Never. Not even Uncle. A very large cat. Larger than any species she knew of. She was something like a cross between a lion and tiger with muted, tawny spots.

  When she felt the primal reckless mood take her, she stalked off into the woods and walked among her friends in the native Lynx population. The wild cat was smaller than she but soon learned she meant them no harm, treasured and protected them in fact.

  Dammit, she did not owe this man that sacred truth about herself. She didn’t trust him. He was too large, too slick and confident. She’d like to bring him to his knees, knock him around some. Oh, dear God, what was she thinking? She was not an aggressive individual, not even in her freaky feline form.