Pride (20 page)

Still, she had the makings of true beauty, and I had no doubt that once she’d put on a few pounds—like, twenty or
so—she was going to break tom-hearts all over the world. And, if she was half as fierce as the gleam in her eyes suggested, she might break a few heads, too.

I liked her already.

I
smiled at the now-human tabby and rose onto my knees, extending one hand to help her up. But as soon as I moved, she scuttled away from me on all fours, hair trailing the floor, eyes wide and frightened.

As she moved, I caught fleeting glimpses of the front of her body, and the enforcer part of my brain kicked in, looking for wounds or scars that could have come from an initial infection. She was almost certainly
not
a stray, but I didn’t want to overlook any evidence in what could turn out to be a landmark case.

Unfortunately, she had no such marks. Other than odd scrapes and several deep bruises, the most serious injury I saw was the medicated gash on her hand, exposed because the bandage had fallen off during her Shift.

When her back hit the corner, the tabby hugged bare legs to her chest and stared at me over a pair of dirty, bony knees. Her focus roamed from my face to my tee, then to my faded jeans, as if seeing them for the first time. She’d seen them before, of course, but not with the full range of colors the human eye dealt with.

Then she twitched, as if with sudden understanding, and her gaze flicked back to mine. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away, hugging her legs tighter.

She was…
embarrassed
.

My Pride—
all
Prides, as far as I knew—paid little attention to nudity associated with Shifting. And even some nudity
not
associated with Shifting. But there
were
some exceptions. My mother, for instance. As with humans, levels of comfort and acceptance varied widely, most of us falling somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, with the odd few on either end.

So it was possible that the tabby’s entire Pride was more conservative regarding gratuitous nudity than we were. But this wasn’t unwarranted bare skin. She’d just
Shifted
. There was no way to do that with clothes on. At least, not without ruining them.

“It’s okay.” I edged closer on my knees. “You did it! I knew you could.” I didn’t play cheerleader for just anyone, but I was hoping the pride and enthusiasm in my voice would be contagious.

The tabby said nothing. She only stared at me with those huge eyes, her chin resting on her knees. She looked shocked. Terrified. And not just of what she’d done. She looked horrified to find herself naked in front of a stranger. That was
not
the typical werecat response. Not even after a first Shift, though that couldn’t possibly have been her first. She’d had to get
into
cat form somehow.

I knee-walked a step closer, and my leg came down on something sharp. “Ow, shit!” I looked down to find a cocklebur stuck in the denim over my knee.
What the hell?
I plucked it out and dropped it on the wood floor, where it landed next to another just like it. Glancing around, I found several more, and only then did I understand. They’d fallen from the tabby when the fur tangled around them receded into her skin.

Huh. Look at that.

Wary now, I scooted around the litter of cockleburs. As I drew closer, the tabby squeezed her legs tighter to her torso, her fingers going white under the strain. Her gaze skipped to my left, and I followed it with my own.

The bed. She was looking at the bed.
She wants the blanket.

Of
course
she wanted the blanket. She was naked, and probably cold. I stood slowly to keep from frightening the tabby with sudden movements. As I pulled the top blanket from the mattress—fortunately
not
the one Colin had slept on—I deliberately turned my back to her, hoping she recognized—at least subconsciously—the demonstration of my trust. A werecat almost never turns his back on someone he doesn’t trust. To do so can get you killed.

I held the blanket high as I turned, showing her I meant no harm. She let me approach, but her eyes didn’t leave mine until I draped the blanket over her and left it for her to arrange it as she saw fit. The bulk of the quilted material pooled on the floor around her, and she huddled beneath one small section, looking impossibly small. Impossibly young.

“Are you warm enough?” I sat cross-legged on the floor, several feet in front of her. The tops of my feet itched, and I rubbed them, surprised to find the imprint of the wood grain still there from when I’d sat on them.

The tabby nodded, even as her teeth started chattering. I wasn’t cold in the slightest. But then, I was neither underweight nor naked. “Just a minute. I’ll send one of the guys to get something of mine for you to wear. We’ll get you something new as soon as you decide what you want. Okay?”

She nodded again, and I smiled, trying to set her at ease as I crossed the room and opened the door just wide enough to slip through the crack, to keep from frightening her with the sight of several strange men. The guys were lined up
against the opposite wall, Dr. Carver clutching his clean, bandaged arm to his chest.

Jace had joined them, and he looked irritated, probably because he’d woken up alone in an empty bed. I knew exactly how he felt. Usually
I
was the one left out of the action.

I closed the door behind myself as I stepped into the hall, and the eagerness in Jace’s eyes died with the click of the latch sliding into place, but Lucas looked annoyingly smug. He was tall enough to see easily over my head and had clearly gotten a glimpse of the tabby. Suddenly I was glad I’d covered her. Seeing her naked would mean nothing special to Lucas—his curiosity was completely innocent—but it would probably mortify her.

“She Shifted!” Lucas’s excitement was practically palpable, but Marc rolled his eyes. They already knew that, having heard every word we’d said for the last forty-five minutes or so.

“Yes.” I glanced from face to face, and my words came out rushed with my own excitement. “I need someone to go get clothes for her from my suitcase.” My gaze stopped on Marc first, because he knew where most of my stuff was and what I wouldn’t mind lending out. But the steel-edged glint in his eyes told me his answer. I should have known better. He wouldn’t go, not because he was worried about my safety—he trusted all the toms present—but because he wouldn’t risk running into my father and having to explain what we were doing.

We’d be in enough trouble once they found out on their own.

But Jace would go. He’d go because Marc would make him. And because I would ask nicely. “Please?” I pinned him with my eyes.

“What? You leave me out of all the fun and now you want me to fetch clothes for you like some kind of fucking gofer?”

“Please,” I repeated. “I’d do it myself, but I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“Whatever.” Jace huffed, his eyes never leaving mine. “What do you want?”

I smiled my thanks at him. “Um…my black pajama bottoms, I guess. The ones with the drawstring. And a black T-shirt. And that soft, cream-colored sweater. She’s in there shivering.”

“Socks?”

“Yeah. Get the fuzzy ones.” Something told me she’d like those. “My shoes won’t fit her, so once I get her sizes someone will have to go shopping.” Until then, she’d have to go without underwear, because I was
not
sharing mine. There was a limit to my generosity, after all. Fortunately, she didn’t have enough up top to need a bra for comfort.

“Anything else?”

“Nope. Hurry, please.” Jace took off down the hall at a jog, bare feet silent on the hardwood, and when he reached the top step I remembered the last crucial detail. “Jace!” I hissed, hoping not to wake the rest of the lodge.

He stopped, one hand already on the banister. “Yeah?”

“
Please
don’t wake up my father. Or Michael.” Nothing in the world could make my father’s firstborn keep a secret from him.

“No worries,” Jace said with that irresistible grin, his blue eyes sparkling like the sea at midday. Then he bounded down the steps, and out the front door a moment later.

“Get her name,” Marc said, his voice the very essence of authority. “You need at least that by the time everyone wakes up, if you don’t want to get us all in serious trouble.”

“I know.”
Boy,
did I know.

My hand was already on the doorknob when Dr. Carver spoke up for the first time. “You really believe she didn’t know how to
Shift?
”

I met the skepticism in his eyes with certainty in my own.
“Yes. I don’t know why yet, or how it’s even possible, but I believe she has no memory of ever having Shifted. Her reactions are too genuine. She was legitimately scared to Shift.” Which I knew because I’d heard her heart beat harder and smelled fear in her sweat as she’d prepared for the transformation.

My eyes were drawn to Marc’s when I felt him watching me. He knew what I was thinking: that Elias Keller might well have stumbled upon the first female stray in recorded history. At least, the first
verifiable
female stray in history.

But neither of us said that. My reputation wasn’t solid enough for me to start spouting the werecat equivalent of conspiracy theories and alien-abduction stories. I’d need concrete proof before making such claims.

“Go on,” Marc said, telling me with his eyes to keep quiet.

I stepped back into the tabby’s room and closed the door, and the first thing to catch my eye was not the small girl still huddled beneath a blanket in her corner. It was the window over the closest twin bed. Or rather, the first rays of sunlight peeking through said window.

Oh, shit.
I glanced at my watch, dismayed when the time confirmed my suspicion. Our privacy was about to expire. Marc probably wouldn’t let any of the tribunal members into the room, but he wouldn’t even
try
to stop my father.

In a blink, my focus shifted from the window to the girl curled up in the corner. My opening line was already on my lips when I saw her mouth stretch open in a yawn much too big for such a small face. She was about to fall asleep. Again. She’d been out cold for hours, but I knew better than most that being unconscious isn’t the least bit recuperative. You need actual sleep to feel alert and rested.

“You want to lie down?” I sank onto my knees in front of her.

She shook her head adamantly, and the harsh motion seemed to wake her up a bit. But it was only a matter of time before sleep would claim her. I didn’t think anyone would
wake her intentionally once she passed out, but I had to find out her name before then.

“I sent one of the guys to get some clothes for you. When he gets back, you can get dressed and curl up in the bed.” She shook her head again, and I conceded. “
Or,
you can stay awake. But before he gets here, we need to talk. You can talk, right?”

She nodded solemnly, and one thin hand went to her throat, as if checking to make sure it was still there. “I thi—” Her voice broke into a hoarse croak after only two syllables. “I think s—” But again her effort ended in a dry strangling sound.

“You need something to drink?” I asked, and she nodded, her hand still pressed to the base of her dirt-streaked neck. Lucas hadn’t brought a glass of anything along with the plate of chicken, and I wasn’t sure we had time to send him to the kitchen again now. But surely one of the first things a doctor would offer a newly awakened patient was something to drink…

I scanned the room, but saw nothing to drink from. No paper cup, no coffee mug, and certainly no nice tall glass of ice water.

The tabby cleared her throat for my attention. “There,” she croaked, pointing toward the foot of the nearest bed. I followed her finger to find the edge of something white and round sticking out from under one corner of the bed. I lifted the sheet to reveal a white plastic cereal bowl, about one-third of the way full of water.

A bowl. Of course.
The tabby had still been in cat form when he’d visited.

When I pulled the bowl out, my hand landed in a small, cold puddle on the floor, and I understood where the rest of the water had gone.

“Here you go.” I held the dish out, and she snatched it from me with both thin hands, exposing the stark lines of her collarbones, a nearly flat chest, and more ribs than I cared to count when the blanket slid from her shoulders.

The tabby drained the bowl in a blink, then held it out to
me, her eyes flashing bright in satisfaction. “Thank you,” she said as I took the bowl from her.

“You have a lovely voice,” I said, and I meant it. Her voice was clear and young, as was her complexion, in spite of having spent at least the past few weeks without access to soap and showering facilities. Her voice, skin and manners gave the only hint that her life had once been something else. Something pure and good, and completely unrelated to the wilderness nightmare that had become her reality at some point.

The tabby didn’t return my smile. She blinked, and that gleam in her eyes was gone. She wrapped the blanket around her torso, tucking it beneath her arms like a towel, likely a habit left over from her life before…whatever had brought her here.

From downstairs came the sound of water running. Someone was taking a morning shower. I had to get her talking
posthaste
.

Struggling to maintain a smile that now felt painted on my face, I set the bowl on the floor and faced the tabby. “Feel any better now?”

She shook her head. “Not much.”

“I’m sure you’re exhausted. But if you can answer a couple of questions for me, I’ll go away and let you sleep for a while.”
Just as soon as the doc has examined you…

That time she didn’t deny her exhaustion—a definite step in the right direction. “What kind of questions?”

I smiled encouragingly. At least, I
hoped
it was encouraging. “Your name, for starters.”

“Kaci Dillon,” she said, and my heart tried to burst straight through my sternum.

Success!
I’d now gotten the tabby to eat, Shift, talk and tell me her name, when she wouldn’t even tolerate the doctor’s presence. No matter what happened next, the Alphas couldn’t deny that I’d gotten the job done. That I had value as something other than an incubator.