Stray

  Abby smelled like baby powder—scented deodorant, surely several days old now, and something young and feminine, and all her own. But pervading her scent was the distinctive, sour odor of fear.

  Miguel had said he liked the smell of fear, which told me more than I ever needed to know about him.

  Cats stalk and hunt for several reasons, including practice, leisure and as an excuse to socialize. But we only kill for food or in self-defense. The smell of fear does nothing to improve our appetites, nor is it an aphrodisiac.

  Miguel’s fear fetish belonged to his human half, not his feline half. It was something he had in common with countless prison inmates all over the world, but not a single zoo cat. He was a human monster, whom some clumsy idiot had armed with lethal teeth and claws.

  I’d love to get my hands on the cat responsible for Miguel’s first Shift, I thought. But knowing Miguel, that cat was probably rotting in peace—or in pieces—somewhere in the middle of the jungle.

  In addition to blood and fear, I identified the residual smell of my own urine in the coffee container. As a cat, the smell didn’t offend me in the least. It was a natural part of my own biology, unlike the metallic smell of the bars and the lingering odor of spilled oil.

  But the only smell I was interested in at the moment came from the white paper bag in the corner. The remains of my dinner from the night before. It wouldn’t be enough, but it was better than nothing. I clamped the bottom of the bag between my teeth and shook my head, scattering trash along with the remaining chicken breast and the scraps of the first. As a cat, I wasn’t bothered by the skin, though I wasn’t particularly fond of the extra-crisp batter. In less time than it had taken me to Shift, the breast was gone, skin and all. I might have crunched through a couple of small bones, too.

  After my meal, I sat on my haunches, cleaning my face and paws. I wasn’t full but was finished nonetheless.

  “Want some more?” Abby asked, dangling her second chicken breast from her thumb and forefinger. I should have shaken my head. It wasn’t right to take her dinner just because she hadn’t been able to Shift. But because I had, I needed food. And she didn’t seem to want it.

  I blinked at her and cocked my head to the side. Are you sure?

  “Yeah, go ahead.” She tossed the chicken breast through her bars, underhand. It landed a foot and a half from my cage. I padded to the front wall of my cell and lay on my stomach, my front right paw extended between two of the bars. Almost there. Unsheathing my claws, I lunged at the breast, turning my head to the side and slamming my ear into the bars as I sank my claws into the meat. It hurt, but it worked. I pulled my meal along the floor and into the cage, then tore into it. It didn’t last any longer than the first one had.

  I purred, staring straight at Abby.

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  Metal springs groaned overhead, and wood creaked. Someone had just gotten out of bed. Based on the pasty color of Ryan’s skin and the dark circles under his eyes, I was willing to bet he hadn’t been to bed in a couple of days. And if he was telling the truth, Miguel and Sean were probably already on the road. That only left one possibility. Eric.

  In her cell, Abby lay staring at the ceiling, oblivious to the activity on the ground level. She’d known Miguel from the sound of his footsteps earlier, but this time she hadn’t heard a thing. On two legs, our hearing was much better than a human’s, but it was nothing compared to that of a cat. As a cat, I could hear frequencies well beyond the upper range of a human, or even a dog.

  I growled softly and Abby looked up. “What’s wrong?”

  I pointed my muzzle at the ceiling.

  “You hear something?” she asked, and I nodded. “Is someone coming?”

  Rotating my ear flaps, I located the direction of the sound and listened carefully. I heard heavy footsteps, then running water. Eric was taking a shower.

  With no way to tell her anything more specific, I settled for shaking my head.

  “Thank goodness,” she breathed, eyeing the ceiling warily. I disagreed. We couldn’t get out without a key, and hours spent wishing for one had done us no good. We needed Eric to come unlock one of the cages. Preferably mine.

  The shower ran for several minutes as I listened, occasionally rotating my ears to make sure Ryan was still watching TV. Or that the set was on, at least. I hadn’t heard him enter or leave the living room, but that was all I had to go on regarding his position in the house.

  The water stopped, and Eric stepped out of the shower. If he took the time to dry off, I couldn’t tell; seconds later he was in another room, searching for clean clothes, based on the sound of wood scraping wood as he opened and closed dresser drawers.

  Okay, time for action. I sat up straight and flattened my ears to my head, preparing to give a good roar. It was the only thing I could think of to lure him downstairs, and though I still hadn’t figured out how to get him to unlock my cage, I’d decided to take things one step at a time. Beginning with the roar. It had to be loud enough for Eric to hear, but not loud enough to alarm the neighbors. Volume was always a judgment call because of the possibility of being heard by humans.

  But as it turned out, I didn’t have to make any noise at all. The footsteps turned toward what I assumed was the kitchen and I closed my mouth, listening. Eric paused, possibly at the fridge, then continued toward the basement door. Apparently he liked a little recreation first thing in the morning. Lucky us.

  Staring at the steps, I growled to warn Abby. She glanced at me, then followed my gaze, her eyes round and her posture tense.

  The door opened, and she leapt to her feet. Fast. I was glad to see she still had a little energy left, since I’d eaten half of her dinner. And since I wasn’t sure I could keep him away from her a second time.

  “Good morning, girls,” Eric called from the top step. “You did know it was morning, didn’t you?” Neither of us replied, and he paused to turn off the light then jogged down the stairs.

  I didn’t care. I could see in the dark far better than he could. But Abby was breathing so hard and fast I worried she’d pass out.

  Eric stopped short at the foot of the steps, staring at me as a drop of water fell from the end of a still-wet strand of hair onto his collar. In less than a second, his face cycled through fear and surprise before finally settling into an amused grin. The first two expressions were closer to how he actually felt, and no display of perfect white teeth could convince me otherwise, even if his canines had been bigger than mine. Which they weren’t. Not by a long shot.

  He smelled fresh and clean, like Zest soap, cheap shampoo and mint-flavored toothpaste. That pissed me off. The fur on my head stood up in stiff clumps, matted by dried sweat and blood, though I hadn’t had fur when I accumulated either substance. I hadn’t brushed my teeth in roughly thirty-six hours, and I’d never needed a shower worse in my life. In a word, I felt gross. On the upside, surely gross was rape-repellent. But even if it wasn’t, claws sure as hell were.

  I paced across the front of my cage, slinking around each time I met the opposite wall, pausing every now and then to growl at him. Eric’s eyes followed me. He was obviously searching for something clever to say and coming up empty. Big surprise.

  “Fur suits you, Faythe,” he said finally.

  Claws suit me better, I thought, eyeing four long, scabbed-over scratches running from the corner of his left eye to the peak of his chin. I licked my muzzle, pleased with my handiwork.

  Eric lurched forward, as if he’d found a hidden stash of courage and wanted to use it all in one careless spending spree. But he stayed well back from my bars. Digging in his front right pocket, he came out with a small silver key, holding it up for my inspection. “As inviting as your cell looks, all littered with napkins and chicken bones, I think I’ll pay a visit to your little cousin this morning. She’s more my type.”

  Cowards always like them young, small and helpless, I thought, wishing I could voice the insult. But all I could do was wat
ch.

  For every step Eric took toward her, Abby took one back, until she hit the wall. She shook her head slowly, tiny fists clenched at her sides, eyes wide with terror. She glanced at me and I growled, not at her, but at Eric. He stopped two feet from her cage, turning to look at me. “What’s wrong, kitty? You jealous? That’s too bad, since you didn’t give me a very warm welcome last time.” He touched the angry slashes on his cheek, and I could swear he knew I was smiling.

  I huffed at him through my nose, inches from my front wall of bars.

  “Yeah, I saw what you did to Miguel,” he said. “Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you? I guess you’ve figured out by now that he’s given up on you. Gonna trade you in for a newer model.”

  I’d hoped he would drop the name of the girl they’d gone after, or at least give me a hint, but he did neither. It did me no good to know she was younger than I was. I was the oldest unmarried tabby in the country. Knowing they would be back by morning told me more than Eric had.

  “I said he could probably still wear you down, but he’s lazy at heart. He’d rather have a girl who doesn’t make too much work for him. Me, on the other hand, I like a bit of kick to my queso, if you know what I mean.”

  I knew what he meant, and I knew it was a lie. If he really liked a challenge, he’d be headed toward my cage instead of Abby’s. But like I’d said, he just wasn’t Alpha material. Apparently Miguel wasn’t either.

  Eric cupped the lock to Abby’s cage in his hand. I growled again, and again he glanced at me. “Sure, you can watch.”

  You chickenshit son of a bitch! Of course, since I was a cat, it came out as a roar, and a damn good one at that.

  “What?” Eric asked, his exasperated tone contrived. He was up to something. “Don’t watch if you don’t want to. Lie there with your paws over your ears, for all the good it does. But as long as you have claws and a tail, there’s no way you can stop me.”

  What? My ears perked up—literally. Was he saying that if I Shifted back I could stop him? I cocked my head to the side. What do you mean?

  “Did you think I was heartless?” he asked, clearly uninterested in an honest answer. “I know you’re a good big cousin and would like to spare Abby any more pain. And I’m willing to do my part. But not unless you Shift back.”

  I tilted my head to the other side. Go on.

  “A simple trade. You, for her. But I’m not into bestiality, for obvious reasons. Those claws look pretty sharp.”

  Yawning, I showed him my teeth were sharp, too.

  “Yeah, and those canines could do some real damage. They’ll have to go if you want to make a deal with me.”

  There has to be some way to negotiate without using words, I thought. I wasn’t willing to Shift back until I knew exactly what he had in mind, other than the obvious. After my Shift, I’d be naked and vulnerable, which was no big deal when surrounded by my own Pride members. But with Eric as my only company, it was nothing less than suicidal.

  “I tell you what,” he said, tapping his watch pointedly. “I’ll give you one minute to decide. You Shift back and agree to play nice, and I’ll leave Abby alone. For now. Or, you can sit with your tail curled around your haunches and listen to how well your cousin likes it. She’s a screamer, you know.”

  Abby refused to look at me. She was clearly terrified, now sitting in her favorite corner with her knees pulled up to her chest. But she wouldn’t ask me to do it. She wouldn’t wish what she’d been through on anyone else. She was just a kid and already so strong—but she shouldn’t have to be.

  “Thirty seconds,” Eric said, barely hiding a smile as he bounced the key in his palm.

  What the hell is he up to? Miguel had said Eric couldn’t touch me. Could that have changed? Or was Eric taking advantage of the boss’s absence? Maybe Miguel gave Eric a chance to try to break me, before giving up on me entirely. That certainly sounded like something Miguel would do, and for him it was a win-win situation. He could send Eric in to wear me down so I’d be too tired to resist when he got back. Even if Eric lost, I’d be exhausted from having fought him off. Plus, if Eric got hurt, Miguel’s injuries wouldn’t be so humiliating by comparison.

  But then the scariest possibility of all snaked its way into my brain. What if this was my fault and had nothing to do with Miguel? What if challenging Eric’s masculinity and embarrassing him in front of the others had made him want to prove himself?

  Shit. With a mouth like mine, who needs mortal enemies?

  “Seven, six, five…” Eric counted, eyeing his watch.

  I growled at him one last time. I’ll kill you if I get the chance. If he understood, I saw no sign. He smiled in ignorance, convinced he’d won. For once, he was right. I couldn’t sit there and listen while he raped my cousin. Again.

  “Do we have a deal?”

  Just for a moment, I hesitated, my heart pounding as I looked at Abby. She still wouldn’t meet my eyes, so I nodded. It wouldn’t be as bad for me as it was for her. Hopefully.

  Eric smiled, and my stomach churned. “Good. You’re a wonderful cousin. Now Shift back.” He glanced at Abby over his shoulder. “I hope you appreciate what your cousin’s doing for you,” he said.

  That was all she could take. “Don’t do it, Faythe,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this.”

  But I did have to. I’d already given my word, in a manner of speaking. Anyway, he’d have to open the door to get in, which was what I’d wanted in the first place. And when opportunity knocks…

  Eric came closer to my cage, still standing well out of my reach. “Get on with it, before I change my mind.”

  I wanted privacy for my Shift but knew he wouldn’t oblige me, even if I had a way to ask. So I Shifted on the rough concrete floor while he watched, ogling each phase as it came.

  At the end of the first phase, Eric came close enough to wrap his hands around the bars. He knew he was safe. If I could have lunged for him, I would have, but I could no more pounce during a Shift than I could sprout butterfly wings and fly away.

  I considered reversing the process, hoping he wouldn’t realize what I’d done until it was too late. In the end, I didn’t do it because I knew it wouldn’t work. And because once I’d tried and failed to kill him, he’d go after Abby, just to punish me. My best shot would come once he’d locked himself in with me.

  Still panting from my Shift, I knelt on the floor, naked and shivering. I was too exhausted to maintain my own body temperature, even in the middle of the summer, because I’d Shifted twice with no water and too little food. And because I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days.

  Eric allowed me no time to recover. He wouldn’t give me another chance to attack him. Not intentionally, anyway.

  He had the lock off and the door opened before I’d even made it to my feet. He wasn’t as fast as Miguel, but I was tired and weak. My body wouldn’t take much more stress and deprivation without serious consequences. Like passing out. I desperately didn’t want to pass out with Eric in my cage. Unlike Miguel, he didn’t want me to fight back. I wasn’t even sure he’d wait for me to wake up.

  He closed the door, and I jumped when he snapped the lock into place.

  So much for bowling him over in a rush for the exit. Instead, I struggled to remain standing. My vision darkened and my head swam. I held my arms out at my sides, trying to maintain my balance.

  “You okay?” he asked, clearly pleased, rather than concerned by how weak I’d become.

  “I’m fine.” I wiped cold sweat from my face with both hands, then realized I had nothing to wipe it on. “Let’s get this over with.”

  His eyes roamed my body, and I cringed, crossing my arms over my breasts. Yes, I knew his eyes were the least of my worries, but the invasion still angered me. And anger was good. It helped clear my head and forced me to focus. As weak as I was, I would only get one shot at him. If I missed, his first retaliatory punch was likely to knock me out. So I would have to choose my moment very carefully.
>
  “Okay, ground rules…” he began.

  “There are ground rules?” I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Imagine how fortunate I felt to have gotten a rapist who had ground rules. But all the rules turned out to be for me. Figures.

  “If you hit, or scratch, or pull any of that kicking shit like you did with Miguel, I’m out of here. I’ll leave you in here to pound dents in the bars, and Abby and I can have another go at it. Can’t we, Abby-cat?”

  I glanced at her, but she had her back to us both. And if I wasn’t mistaken, her fingers were in her ears. Either way, she didn’t respond, so Eric turned back to me.

  “Do you understand?” he asked, and I nodded, because there was nothing else could I do. My moment hadn’t come yet. “So we have a deal?”

  Another nod. But then neither of us moved. He didn’t seem to know what to do next, as if my compliance had confused him, and I wasn’t about to volunteer my understanding of the process. Several awkward seconds passed. Awkward for him, anyway. I was just tired and pissed off. Finally, he put on a resolute face and pulled me forward by my left elbow.

  I jerked my arm free on instinct, pleased and surprised to realize that the pain in my shoulder wasn’t that bad. Shifting back had done even more to help heal my injury.

  Eric shot me a warning glance and a growl. I focused on Abby’s curls, and the next time he took my arm, I let him. He kissed me, and I just stood there. I could taste his toothpaste and smell his shampoo. My veins pumped scalding fury throughout my body, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have the strength to hit him hard enough to hurt him, and if I tried and failed, whatever he did to Abby would be my fault. I’d have to take him out with a single strike. Anything less than a death blow wouldn’t be good enough.

  If I could just figure out how to Shift my teeth…

  I closed my eyes in concentration, doing my best to ignore Eric’s hand cupping my ass as I tried again to make my face Shift. Come on, damn it, change. Nothing happened.