Driving Force (8 page)

“Outlaws,” she mused, and he grinned.

“Not any longer. The decades have reformed us. The original people who came here for whatever reason are long dead and we, their descendants, have adapted to this world. We’re all law-abiding now, and for all that our culture might be a little different from yours…”

“A little!”

“It’s still based on and around yours. Your world is all we know.”

She thought about that. Except for the ability to shift forms, he was no different from any other person in town.

“Are you sorry?” she asked curiously.

“Yes…no…maybe. We don’t know enough any longer what our original culture is.”

“That’s sad.” To lose all knowledge of the history and customs of one’s people, to be forced to submerge oneself in a totally alien culture.

He gave her a crooked smile. “That’s what immigrants do, isn’t it? Become part of the melting pot?”

She had to laugh. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“I was born here. Generations of Raeders were. All of us these days were born into this world. It’s our home, and though our society might be a bit different from yours, it still interlocks with yours, the same way a Chinatown or a Little Italy interlocks with the city it’s in.”

“Got it.”

“Except for Arrhan.”

“Ah!”

“A little while back, a Gate opened. We don’t know why or how. As far as we know, a Gate hasn’t opened in a century. Arrhan came through.”

She nodded, beginning to see. “Old school, you said.”

“The old way of thinking. The other culture. He’s a lion and he thought he could challenge for the lordship of the pride, the same way the lions of the Serengeti do. But we don’t live in the Serengeti and our culture has changed. The rules of the other dimension don’t apply here. The pride refused to allow the challenge.”

“And he didn’t like that.”

“Had a cow. Also doesn’t like other cat breeds living in the same territory. Should be all-lion, you see.”

“So he’s trying to force the rest of you out.”

“You got it.”

“He challenged Kurt, didn’t he? Are all the Lowes lions?”

Doc had given that away and now she thought about it, she realized they had to be. All those tall, powerful individuals with their manes of tawny hair.

“Figured it out, have you?” He sighed. “Don’t know how they’re gonna take to your knowing.”

“And Abel Painter’s a cougar.”

Ian laughed involuntarily. “Doc will never make a good undercover agent.”

Sierra grinned. “He started to say Abel twice, I think. And the mention of the Glock 22 confirmed it. Police-issue handgun that a cop would normally be packing. Had to be Abel. Nick Korda’s the tiger, right?”

“Now how did you guess that?”

“His size. And that weird mixed-color hair. Brown, red, black and even white in there. Your hair’s pale yellow, but you’ve got other colors mixed in. So does Neal. It’s a giveaway, once I knew you were a cat.”

“God, you’re quick! Yeah, it is a giveaway, but since nobody suspects Shifters exist, it usually doesn’t matter.”

“Simon’s got black hair.” That had seemed odd in a blond family. But that had been back when she’d thought they were fully human. Now… “A melanistic leopard. Black panther, right?”

“Right.”

Her brain was busy making connections. Many of the girls she had seen Ian go out with—there was a certain resemblance between them.

“That summer you and your brothers spent in the San Juan mountains, back when you were nineteen…”

“What about it?”

She grinned at the wary look on his face. “That pack of wild girls that you three were running with…”

He was shocked. “How the hell do you know about that?”

“Whole town knew. Neal bragged a bit when he got back.”

He sighed. “He would have been around sixteen then. Figures he’d shoot his mouth off.”

“They were Shifters too, weren’t they? Cats as well?”

“Wolves.”

“So you’re not species-specific. Interesting.”

“Not in human form, no.” He glared at her. “Clinical much?”

“Twyla Gevlin is a cheetah, isn’t she?” She watched his gaze jerk betrayingly away from hers. “Streaky gold-brown hair, amber eyes and that lean runner’s build. That means all those Gevlin girls are cheetahs. You went out with every one of them. And with Maggie Kindle’s daughter too, before she went off to university. So the Kindles are…?”

“Snow leopards. Dammit, Sierra!” He looked appalled. “Just because I went out with… How do you know whom I dated anyway?”

“Everybody does. It’s a small town, remember?”

He flicked her a sudden sharp glance. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d pay that much attention to my doings.”

She flushed, realizing she might have given away her interest there. “If you walk up and whack a horse on the nose, he won’t like you, but he’s gonna pay real close attention to anything you do after that.”

He shut his eyes. “And I whacked you on the nose at fourteen.”

“Yup. But I’ve got a better opinion of you now. There I was thinking there wasn’t a girl in the state you hadn’t stuck your dick into…”

“
Sierra Wallace!
” It was a full-throated roar.

“Everybody thought that. But here it turns out it was only Shifter girls. A little better. Not much, but a little.”

He rubbed his hands over his face. “And here I thought you couldn’t get more annoying than you were already.”

“What? I’m just curious.”

“I know you. You just want to give me a hard time.”

“This is true. But I’m also curious.”

“God, you can be a brat, can’t you?”

Sierra grinned. “Thank you.”

There was an interesting flush of color across his cheekbones that did not come from the fever. She had embarrassed him. She smirked, enjoying that. It wasn’t often she got the upper hand.

“What’s it like, making love as a cat?”

“I have no idea. I’ve always stayed human.”

She was surprised. “Even with Shifters?”

“Can’t make love with another species Shifter in animal shape. The scent is wrong. Best to stay human even with your own kind. Make love to a feline Shifter as a cat and you’ve got cubs.” He grinned wryly. “No condoms, you see. They’re hard to put on when your hands are paws.”

“And you don’t want the responsibility of cubs. Ties in with what I know about you already.”

“You don’t know damn all about me,” he said harshly.

She didn’t bother taking offense. She was getting to him for once and she was enjoying that mightily.

“Have you ever slept with a human?”

“No.”

“Why not? There’s some awfully pretty ones around. Haven’t you wanted to?”

Something moved behind his eyes. He looked away abruptly.

“Shifters are strong,” he said curtly. “Things might get too rough.”

That sounded reasonable, but she could tell it was an evasion. “Some women like it rough.”

Not that she really knew. Peter hadn’t been very adventurous. And she didn’t have any other experience. Hadn’t been that tempted to get more, either. The truth was that she had found sex unsatisfactory. Peter had seemed to get more out of it than she did. It was okay, but it wasn’t as though the earth moved or anything, as the books and the movies said was supposed to happen. She didn’t know what the fuss was about. But everyone made a big deal out of it, so maybe there was just something wrong with her.

“Sounds as if you’d like it rough,” said Ian. His eyes were suddenly blazingly green.

She realized with a jolt where the conversation had taken them. She had only meant to kid him a little. But now things were cutting too close to the bone. She rose abruptly.

“This is not about me.”

“You’d have fangs even in bed, wouldn’t you, Mouse?”

She was the most boring person in bed who existed. Peter hadn’t exactly said so, but he’d made it pretty clear. But she wasn’t going to admit that to Ian.

“You’ll never know,” she growled, moving hurriedly to the door.

“Shifters can’t get humans pregnant and we don’t catch STDs, not even in human form,” he said softly behind her. “Just in case you’re still curious.”

She stopped abruptly and swung around to glare at him. “I’m not going to be one of your women, Ian Raeder! And don’t say you weren’t thinking that!”

“Oh, I was thinking that. Won’t lie to you. But I’m still the one who whacked your nose when you were fourteen and kept on whacking it. You wouldn’t have me if I was the last man on earth, would you?”

“Damn right.”

She had an order for bowls that she should have been working on yesterday. She busied herself with that now, wedging the clay by hand, tearing off small lumps and whomping them down on the worktable to force out the air. Bashing the clay like that got rid of some of her exasperation. It wasn’t his fault. He was just being himself. The man couldn’t help making passes at any female in sight. It was her own fault, letting him get to her like that.

She worked the clay smooth and even in texture, then began to knead it slowly and rhythmically. Handling the clay was always soothing. She fell into the familiar pattern, shaping the bowls one by one on the rotating wheel, then cutting them free and placing them on the shelf to dry before she could glaze and fire them. Time and her own concerns vanished as they always did when she was lost in concentration.

When she looked up again, the light falling through the wide windows had turned into the rich gold of late afternoon. She washed her hands, then went to check on Ian. He was fast asleep under the covers, his temperature almost back to normal when she laid her hand lightly against his forehead.

“What?” he muttered, surfacing at her touch.

“Want something to eat?”

“Steak?” he asked hopefully.

“Broth.”

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re gonna have broth and like it. Doc’s orders.”

“The two of you are sadists.”

Grinning, she went and made some for him. She put it into a big mug together with a straw for him to drink it with. She wasn’t sure whether he was up to handling a spoon yet, the way his hands had been shaking before, and she knew darn well he would balk at being spoon-fed.

He was sitting up, leaning against the headboard again when she came back into the guest room. When she held out the mug, he glared at it in disgust.

“Broth.”

“Enjoy.”

She shoved it into his hands and went out, smirking. As usual, working on her wheel had made her forget to have lunch, so she decided to fix herself a sandwich.

“And you stuff your face with roast beef!” Ian called from the bedroom while she was eating it.

“You’re creeping me out, cat.” It was a little nerve-racking that he could smell that even in human shape.

“Good.”

They were both trying to recover the old antagonistic dynamic. It wasn’t working. She was far too aware of him now. And she could sense that he was on edge as well.

A little while later, she heard the small television in the guest room turn on. He was watching some sort of news show. She went to check on him a couple of hours later and found him asleep again, sprawled out with the covers tangled about his hips. The TV was off and he had obediently finished the broth, which was a relief. The reddish-brown claw marks down his side were starting to fade. She could understand why Doc was so envious of Shifter healing abilities.

After some thought, she quietly unlocked his manacles and slipped them off. He would be more comfortable that way and even Doc thought them unnecessary now. It was only Ian who was worried about his cat side. When he woke up without his fetters in the morning, he’d see that he wasn’t going to turn feral.

She didn’t need to sit up with him tonight. She hadn’t napped during the day because she hadn’t wanted to throw her body clock out, but she did go to bed early after making sure he had everything he needed.

The next morning he came into her workroom, moving slowly and with care. His hair was damp, so she guessed he had showered, and he was wearing his usual black tee and jeans, though his feet were bare.

“You shouldn’t have taken off my shackles,” he said, frowning.

“You didn’t need them.”

“It wasn’t a good idea.”

She frowned right back at him. “Don’t know whether your taking a shower was a good idea, either. Should you be up? You don’t seem strong enough.”

“Bit shaky on my feet,” he admitted ruefully. “But Doc did say I could shuffle around today. Can I watch?”

“Sure. Sit down before you fall down.”

He reached for one of the wooden kitchen chairs that were scattered around the room and set it down opposite her at the small adjustable table that held her wheel. Hands on the table, he started to sit down, then stopped abruptly.

“Can I put my weight on this or will that damage something?”