Hunting the She-Cat (5 page)

O’Hare was large and urban, but Misha’s
senses clanged, warning her of many dangers just as they did when
she was in the open wilds. But here it was overload, painful. Like
any other cat, alert senses gave her an edge, kept her
alive.

Pursued. She felt pursued.

She had the creeping, itching feeling
the large cat followed her, silently padding along behind her. The
fine hair at the back of her neck seemed to stand at attention.
Silly, silly imagination. Impossible. No man, not even one as
forceful and demanding as Lugar could follow her today. She’d been
careful to see to it. Well, no normal male could.

Heavens, he was no normal mortal male.
She might even be falling into his hands or, that would be, claws
and fangs.

The urge to leave her belongings and
run past the airport guards was nearly overpowering. She forced her
self to relax, be calm. In her life, she’d faced worse threats than
a male who made her want sex. Hadn’t she? Maybe not.

Casually, she turned, looking all
around behind her. No one there.

She sighed and smiled politely as they
let her into the boarding gate concourse area.

Minutes later, when she settled into
her seat on the small commuter express plane, the same fight or
flight feelings washed over her in waves, sharpening her senses.
She could hear every word the pilots said in the
cockpit.

She sank into her seat, staying low, as
if she were the prey and not the predator today. She forced herself
to close her eyes and rest, lulled and quieted by the steady hum of
the engines. She preferred that to eavesdropping on the
pilots.

Two hours later, she walked into the
arms of Uncle Joseph Red Bird. He’d aged. His walk was stiff, his
shoulder popped as he hugged her close.

“It has been too long my Misha girl.
Too long you have stayed away from these hills of home.” He patted
her with the awkwardness of a father. “We’ve missed you,
love.”

“You too. You too.”

“Then why stay away?”

She shrugged. Damned if she knew. Other
than her work and a handful of friends, or the purring excitement
of Chicago days, why indeed?

“You will stay at Bear Track Cabin, as
always? I can not talk you into staying in my home?”

She grinned weakly and nodded. “I love
my cabin. Thank you for taking care of it for me. I need to think,
Uncle. I can think and unwind there.”

“You need to hide and lick your
wounds,” he refuted. “You will come by for a good meal with all the
family before you go back to the Wild City?”

“That’s Windy City, Uncle. Yes. If I
can. I’ll try.”

“Good. If not, we’ll come to
you.”

When she said nothing more, he went on,
“The big cat walks again, Mish. Saw the tracks by the creek myself.
Take my dogs up there with you.”

“You mean the one they say is
unnatural, oversized tracks?” She blinked rapidly. “That was a
kid’s prank. Years ago.” How could the cat walk the woods when
she’d been in Chicago all last week?

“Right, bigger tracks.” His dark eyes
pierced her. “Always believed in the cat myself. Felt it. The beast
learned to cover its tracks and hide better. She was a baby then.”
Did his eyes carry a warning?

“Listen, Mish. These are even bigger
tracks. Male.”

“No cat, Uncle. There is no
supernaturally big cat.”

“The great magic of this world is hard
to deny. No kid could get up where these signs were. Near the old
cave.”

Dear God. The stranger who’d come to
her office? Or another like him? So much for running, he would
scent her. Hell.

“When? Exactly when?”

He nodded as if he approved her taking
this more seriously now.

“Three days ago.”

Lugar had already been here before.
Well, he’d said he tracked her. She was running stupid. Not
thinking. Shit. Shit. Shit.

“You’ll take the dogs,
then?”

“No. Not the big dogs. I’ll take
Gix.”

“Hell, Misha,” he scolded. “He’s only a
Boston Terrier and a small one at that.”

“He’ll warn me of intruders though. He
trusts me. That’s all I need.”

“The big ass damn cat will eat him and
spit out the seeds.”

“I won’t allow harm to come to him.
I’ll keep him in or go out with him.” Hmmm. Before there had been
no doubt that the cat would not harm Gix, because she was the cat.
Now she had to wonder if she could lose little Gix to the
unpredictable, strange male cat.

“Even Gix should stay at home. I’ll be
fine alone,” she added.

“Nope. I want a dog to go with you.” He
scratched his head. “The little hellion, Gix, would be honored to
die in your defense, if that’s what’s worrying you.” Uncle Joe read
her far too well. “I wish you’d take my, Mals, Jake and Paul
too.”

“Taking your favorite two Belgian
Malinois won’t be necessary.” She smiled lovingly. Uncle Joseph
imported, bred and trained the dogs for police work. Placing them
all over the country.

“I insist.”

“Not necessary.” Her heart jerked in
her chest, the beat of it distracting. That the two dogs might be
big enough to harm the big male in cat form, made her fear for
Lugar. Irrational, inexplicable. Man, she was crazed by the male.
The point was to run and hide from him not protect him.

Still, she did not want him hurt in
this insane, misguided quest of his to take her to his
leader.

“They will want to protect
you.”

“Not this time, Uncle.”

“I see.”

* * * *

Lugar landed what appeared to be a
Piper on nearby landing strip at the Nashville airport. The small
plane was not as it appeared, but was the ship he’d landed on Earth
in just a few days ago. His people had learned to be wary of the
earth humans three hundred years ago and acted accordingly.
Discretion and common sense suspicion was warranted.

His senses told him she was near. Misha
walked through the airport, very close by. Her scent called to
him.

Time to check in with home. He pushed
the button on his wrist com. He walked a fine and dangerous line,
trusting no one and being truthful with no one.

Things were not proceeding as planned.
He was only a few hours delayed. The she-cat’s instincts of
self-preservation served her well while his own were shot all to a
black hell and back.

She had him on the hunt, running after
her, when he anticipated having her halfway home by this
time.

“Commander, the queen awaits news from
you. You have tracked the lost female?”

“Not much to report yet.”

I must inform you our sources tell us
one of Gald’s men is only hours behind you, perhaps less,” Cord at
Eliavan command center said.

“Why would he become personally
involved?”

“Unknown, sir. We intercepted covert
communications from Gald to the ship as it left Eliava. Thought
you’d want the info.”

Damn. Lugar knew Gald too well for the
cruel fool he was. His very blood roared up. Gald would not have
the female.

She was his now. Under his protection
whether she wanted it or not.

* * * *

“You think the commander will kill the
she-cat?” Zeff Harro asked the question as their plane flew just
above the cloud cover, fast and straight for Tennessee less than
one hour behind Eliavan Special Forces commander, Lugar
Rova.

“That’s his mission, Harro,” Vadeen
Sneal answered. “Competent warrior. He has never failed the Eliava
before.”

“True. Commander is a top fighter. But
he never had to kill a female before, I imagine.”

“Hunnh. These are unusual
circumstances. Normally the Law teaches us a female is to be
protected. What would you do in his tracks? Destroy one little
she-cat? Or lose the flipping kingdom of wealth offered in
payment?”

Zeff nodded, but felt his lips stiffen
in revulsion. Finding it hard to keep an unreadable expression, he
looked away. “Lot of power and wealth on the line alright.” He
looked out the window, down at the glimpse of the ground below as
the clouds folded away, trying to hide his abject revulsion. “But
no damn challenge or honor in killing a girl. Especially the
legendary lost young one.”

“Sometimes the cost of one death is
required for the good of many.”

Zeff turned his eyes back to Sneal.
“She’s a baby by the standard of our life expectancy, probably
hasn’t shifted more than a dozen times yet. Young, unsure of her
power and strength.”

Zeff observed the larger and older man
a long moment. Not for the first time, he noticed Sneal’s eyes were
cold and dead, a man who had his uses but was without the normal
compassion of their people. “Maybe so. Maybe so,” he conceded.
Maybe so.

“The disappearance of this one female
reversed Gald’s family fortunes for the better. She returns, claims
what’s hers, and all that goes back to the old status quo. No
knowing what upheaval will come if she makes it back home. Now that
Gald has located her positioning necklace, we can strike
first.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gald’s a truly evil one,
he thought. “They say Gald enjoys the kill too much.”

Sneal’s eyes sparked with annoyance.
“Rumors. Lies. He wants only the best for all.”

Hmm. A spark of something like life
flamed in Chief Sneal’s black, soulless eyes. He should back off.
He realized he was pushing Sneal too far.

“Time to have a male lead us into the
future, Gald is the right male to do it. Ruthless, don’t forget who
you work for, Harro,” Sneal said.

Ah, so that was it. Interesting piece
of information Sneal just gave. So, he definitely was not working
for their queen. Urgently, Zeff moved the conversation onward, not
letting on he’d heard. “You see the pictures of the lost female
sent back by the surveillance team?” Shift the subject now, learn
more without confrontation. Gald was a freaking mad man. He’d
learned that much on this trip. But no one was brave enough to say
it to his face. Unless maybe Lugar. A man could hope so anyway.
“Pretty golden eyes and tawny hair just like her mother, Pride Lead
Woman, Ladia,” he went on. “Beautiful, the girl is. Even in that
long-legged, Earth human shape. Imagine her as a cat.”

“Yes. A male should toy with her for a
while first, then.”

What? Zeff’s stomach lurched and turned
with disgust at the idea. Before killing her, Sneal meant. Cold.
Flipping cold bastard. “Not very honorable.” He risked jeopardizing
his mission to say that much. Sneal was showing his true nature and
it was not a good picture. Harro saw why the queen assigned him to
go undercover and keep an eye on this one.

Sneal glared at him now, giving him a
disgusted look. “Honor is overrated,” he spat. “A useless trait
from our primitive past. Not needed in the new future of Gald’s
power. The commander will do what it takes. Earn her trust
first.”

“What if she’s not dark evil like her
family? What if she’s innocent? What if she’s not Tryth’s daughter?
No threat to Gald at all.”

“Stupid notion. She is no innocent.
She’s Tryth’s daughter alright, as sure as Gald is his nephew.
Tryth captured her mother, didn’t he? All of us know this. Her
grandfather was Kew, the Butcher of Verine. That blood will run
true in her veins. Always does.”

Illegally abducted her mother, you
mean. Crazy bastard, Tryth, was criminally insane. “I
see.”

“She will naturally want what Gald
earns. Her sacrifice will be made worthy when Gald is in full
power.”

A chill went through Zeff as there was
an odd, admiring, nearly worshipful, light in his eyes when Sneal
spoke the name, ‘Gald’.

“Maybe she’s had better nurture here on
this backward world. Intervention. Positive focus.”

Sneal shook his head and smiled a strip
of snarl. Zeff swore he saw bared fangs. “Idealism. You’re a damn
romantic dreamer, Harro. Straighten up.”

He shrugged and smiled a friendly
smile. “Maybe I am.” Didn’t like the way the Sneal eyed him. He’d
need to back off and keep his mouth shut now. Said more than enough
already. Learned exactly what he needed to know.

The console pinged. “There we go,” Zeff
said. “Got a reading on the location of the commander’s
transporter.”

“Good. Steady then. Keep him on our
screen,” Sneal snapped.

“South fifty kilometers.”

“Good. Match the heading to his. Tail
him. Keep us in his blind spot. Back off enough to be beyond his
scanners.”

“Don’t like spying on our
Commander.”

“Suck it up. Can’t take the chance he
gets soft on the female. We need a backup plan.”

“Hah. Would not like to fight the
Commander either.”

“It will not come to that. However if
it does, we will prevail.”

Chapter Five

Misha settled in, deeply and
irrationally relieved to be in the sanctuary of her mountain home,
deep in the woods with the high cliffs to her back. After stashing
some food supplies, she was on the sofa, knees up with a cup of
green tea and an old patchwork quilt over her shoulders. It was
unseasonably cool today. Her uncle’s small black and white Boston
Terrier lay on the sofa by her side, every bit of him snuggled
under her quilt.