Untitled

Straw. Barn. Consciousness returned to him. It had been raining, and they'd
been standing in the middle of the corn field. So they sheltered in the barn.
As the storm had raged, they'd passed the time making love in an empty animal
stall in the barn, on fresh, soft straw.


Their loving had started slowly. Soaked shirts removed out of necessity. Her
SATIN bra, too. She traced a HEART along his ribs, another on his back.
Kissing. Lots of kissing. One of his more favorite pastimes. Her perfume
smelled of ROSES, arousing him. She knew it, too, making sure to drive him as
crazy as possible with her touches and kisses. Gentleman he was, he returned
the favor. They both reached orgasm; fell asleep together.


She wasn't there, now. Probably in the house, once the weather cleared.
Morning sickness got the best of her these days.


He donned his boxers, jeans, socks and boots. All of her clothing was gone, so,
he headed toward the farmhouse. Never had he been happy as he had been the last
two years. With a baby due, he only saw happiness ahead.


The screen door clicked gently behind him. On the kitchen table, he noticed a
mostly full glass of water and one bite missing from a COOKIE on a paper plate.
She probably had not been in the house too long. He made a quick trip to the
laundry room to chuck his wet shirt in the direction of the dirty laundry pile
and tossed his hat atop the dryer.


"SUGAR?" he called aloud and walked down the hallway. Halfway to the bathroom,
the sound of a flush answered him. The door wasn't closed. He knocked and
pushed it open the rest of the way.


She was sitting back, now, pushing her curly blonde hair back behind her left
ear, a grimace on her face.


"Ya all right, babe?" He knelt, to meet her eye level.


"Yea," she nodded affirmatively.


"Been here long?"


"About fifteen minutes. Got sick when I got in the door, thought I was okay…got
sick again."


He held her to him. "I'm here for you. Hopefully, this won't go too much
longer."


"I know. It's still. . . yuck." She gave a little giggle at the description.


"Yuck or not, I love you." He held her tighter.


"I love you, too." She stood and gargled quickly with mouthwash.


Together, they walked back to the kitchen, sitting to talk, and see if the
nausea had gone.


Then, it started to rain again.

The End

Rick's Revelation

Rick stood on his apartment’s balcony, looking out across the deserted pool
area. It was a pretty mild night by Texas standards, even for February. He took
a swig from his Shiner beer, then heard a screech from below. ‘THAT DARN
CAT’, he thought to himself. ‘Must be digging in the trash again.’ He
took another swig, then turned back into his darkened apartment. He saw his
phone light up and grimaced. Kylie must not have given up yet. He picked it up
and saw nine text messages from her. He tossed the phone onto the table and
swore. She just wouldn’t give up.

He flipped on the TV and found a Mavericks game on. His phone lit up again and
he threw it across the room, breaking it into pieces. He shook his head, then
shrugged. He’d have to replace it tomorrow, but it was worth it. He turned the
TV off and went over to his computer. He looked over his letter of resignation
one more time. He’d spent the last six years with the Dallas Police
Department, but knew it was time to move on. His aunt needed him and it was time
to pay back all those years she’d devoted to him, taking him in and treating
him as her own.

He glanced at his email inbox and saw three emails from Kylie. “Damn it,� he
swore, slamming his fist onto the desk. He highlighted the messages and deleted
them. There was no point in reading them… he knew exactly what they said. She
was sorry, she hadn’t meant to hurt him, would he give her another chance. She
should know him better than that. He could forgive a lot of things, but betrayal
wasn’t one of them.

Against his will, images from that night a week ago flooded into his mind.
He’d been anticipating seeing her all day. He’d made reservations at the
Mansion on Turtle Creek and had bought some gorgeous yellow ROSES. When he
arrived at her apartment, he’d heard music, but Kylie hadn’t answered. He
figured she was still getting ready, so he used his key to let himself in. He
called out to her as he walked towards her room, pushing the door open as he
said, “Happy Valentine’s Day.� The words had died in his throat as he saw
the love of his life scrambling to throw on clothes as his fellow cop, Marty
Sanders, struggled to pull his pants on.

Rick shook his head, forcing the images to retreat back into his mind. He’d
been a fool to think Kylie Richardson had been the one he would spend the rest
of his life with. He forced himself to forget about the ring he’d thrust into
the back of the desk drawer that night. No, it was time to move on. He was
quitting the Department in the morning and then he’d figure out what his next
move would be. Aunt Willie Mae would be thrilled. In fact, he had an idea
she’d try to get him to take over her various business interests. He knew that
wasn’t really where he wanted his life to go, but for now it would do.

He glanced at the picture collage hanging across from his desk. His aunt had
given it to him when he’d first moved out on his own. There were pictures of
his late parents with him, as well as one from their wedding. He picked up his
beer bottle and walked over to the pictures, looking more closely at their
engagement picture. His aunt had always said it was her favorite picture of
them, and he could see why. It was a candid shot, caught one afternoon on the
seawall down in Galveston. His mother was laughing and his father was gazing
down at her with an expression that was filled with joy. Rick sighed and walked
back out to the balcony. He’d thought he’d found that kind of love with
Kylie, but he had been sadly mistaken. From now on, he was going to focus on
building a new life and a new career, not on love.

The Distraction

Second Season

February 12th

"Amanda!" Amanda King turned as she heard her name
being called down the hall.

"Hi, Lee." She said as her sometimes partner came up
beside her.

"Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" Lee asked
without any preamble.

"Honestly Stetson, don't you know how to say
hello?"

"Hello. Are you doing anything tomorrow night?"

"No. Do you need me for something?"

"Could you come with me to the Swiss Embassy for a
cocktail party? I have to meet one of my contacts."

"Sure."

"Great! I tried everyone else…" Lee trailed off.

"Thank you so much." Amanda replied dryly.

"No, that's not what I meant. I mean I need someone to
distract the escort of my contact. And I didn't want to put you in
that position…"

Amanda glared at him. "Well, since I am your last
choice." She counted to ten in her head just to watch him squirm.
"What time should I meet you here?"

She was amazed when Scarecrow actually looked a little
flustered at her words. "Ummm…Six o'clock?" He gave her
a lopsided smile.

She took a deep breath. "Is there anything special I need
to know before the party?"

"No, you'll be going as my IFF colleague so you'll be able
to mingle freely."

"Well in that case, I'll see you later." With that Amanda
turned on her heel and walked down the hall.

`A distraction, huh?' Amanda thought furiously.
`What do I have that could provide a distraction.' An image
flashed through her mind. `Oh my gosh, I can't wear that. But it
is perfect.' A small but devilish laugh escaped Amanda as she headed
to the file room. `It will provide a distraction all right. Poor
Scarecrow won't know what hit him.' The small smile which formed
at Lee's imagined reaction stayed on her face for the rest of the
day.



February 13th

Amanda began her preparations for the party at 4:00. She changed her
mind about the dress she had chosen three times. She never thought she
would actually have the nerve to wear it. If Lee wanted a distraction
that is what she would give him. She walked out of her bathroom and
reached for a bra until she realized that she would have to go braless
with this dress. Since she couldn't wear pantyhose because the
waistband would be visible, she decided on a garter and stockings. She
took a deep breath and pulled the red SATIN cocktail dress up her body.
She relished the feel of the soft material next to her skin. She reached
behind her and pulled the zipper up slowly making sure that it
didn't catch on her lace panties. The zipper finished right above
the small of her back leaving the back open except for the thin straps.
She placed her feet into open toed black pumps, freshly painted red
toenails barely peeping out. She looked at herself in the mirror and
smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles and approved of the front V-neck
which gave a discreet view of her chest. The hem was just to her knee, a
perfect length.

Looking through her jewelry box, she decided to wear an Alexandrite
HEART pendant that Joe had brought back for her from one of his early
trips to Africa. The pendant's setting was small pink gold flowers
and green gold leaves wrapping around the stone setting off the deep,
dark red glow of the gem.

Amanda gave herself one last look in the mirror. "Okay, Amanda, you
can do this. I know you can. You are just going to a cocktail party. You
are helping Lee like always. Just like always. Nothing more to it."
A knock at her bedroom door halted her pep talk as her mother walked in.

"Amanda…my, don't you look stunning. I wondered when that
dress was going to come out of the closet."

"Thank you, Mother. Since its cocktail reception for some IFF
sponsors, I thought I would wear this in honor of Valentine's
Day."

"Well, you look lovely. It's a shame to waste a dress like that
on sponsors. Oh well, I just wanted to let you know that the SUGAR
cookies for the bake sale are done and the boys are frosting them now.
Now I'm not supposed to tell you, but the boys are making a special
Valentine's Day COOKIE for you."

"That's so sweet of them. I'm really sorry you had to bake
all the cookies. I got asked to attend the reception at the last
minute."

Dotty kissed her on the cheek. "I know, Love. That's why I'm
here, to help out any way I can." She suddenly became animated.
"Who knows? Maybe you'll find some nice man at the
reception."

Amanda hugged her mother. "Mother! That's not why I am attending
the party."

"I know, I know." Dotty acquiesced as she walked out the door.
She popped her head back in for a moment to say, "but never hurts to
try."

Amanda put on her long black wool coat for the drive and grabbed her
black bag as she walked out the door.

She arrived at the agency with five minutes to spare, but as she walked
into the Georgetown Foyer she noticed Lee pacing back and forth.
"It's about time."

She looked at her watch. "Lee, you said six o'clock. It's
not even that yet." Amanda reasoned

"I know, Amanda, let's go." He offered his arm and
escorted her out of the building and to the Corvette. As she sat down in
the bucket seat and brought her legs inside the car, her coat slipped
open and Amanda realized that her dress had ridden up a little too much
and that the top of her stocking and a garter strap were showing. She
looked up and saw Lee look away rapidly and clear his throat.

"Are you in?" He asked not quite looking at her as he
began to close the door.

"Yes, thank you." She looked up at him and shouted,
"Lee, your hand!"

He stopped and moved his hand from the car frame. "Thank
you. Okay. Good." And he closed the door. He didn't get two
steps when Amanda heard the sound of cloth tearing. She looked over and
noticed that Lee had closed the corner of his overcoat in the door. She
stifled a small giggle and opened the door for him. Before she could
close the door again she heard him mutter darkly, "thank you" as
he walked around the car. She used the moment to surreptitiously pull
her dress down to cover her legs.

Lee swung himself into the car and they headed to the embassy.

When they arrived a valet took the Corvette and Lee walked
Amanda into the reception. She discreetly looked for damage to his coat
as he gave their names to the guard. She was relieved to see that the
damage was minimal and right along the seam. She probably could mend it
for him if he wanted. Amanda made a mental note to ask him later. Now
they had work to do.

Lee removed his coat and handed it to the coat check. She took
the opportunity to look at what Lee's attire entailed. Since it was
a cocktail reception, he had chosen one of his black tailored suits with
a white shirt and a red tie. He accented the red tie with a red pocket
square. She smiled inwardly, without even realizing it they wore
complementary outfits.

He returned to Amanda to assist her with removing her coat. She felt him
lift it off her shoulders and begin to slide the coat down her arms when
he suddenly stopped. "Lee?" She asked turning her head to look
over her shoulder at him. He was staring at the back of her dress.
"Lee. Is there something wrong? Lee? Is there something on my
dress?" She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and felt down the
back of her dress to make sure it was intact. She turned and saw him
standing there with her coat in his hands looking at her with his mouth
agape. "Lee, what's wrong with you? Is there something wrong
with my dress?" Now suddenly self-conscious, she ran her hands over
her hips and fanny smoothing out imagined wrinkles.

Lee seemed to snap back out of his thoughts. "Huh? Um...
wrong? No. Uh..no. There is nothing wrong with your dress. You look
amaz…good…really good…fine even."

"Good. If you're sure?" She asked as he handed her
coat to the coat check and escorted her in to the reception hall.



He guided her to the bar to order drinks. While waiting, he
leaned in and whispered, "Katrina is the one in the royal blue
dress. Her escort is KGB but not a guard. When she goes to the ladies
room you need to distract him so that I can talk to her." Amanda
leaned in closer to hear him over the hub of discussion and Lee looked
down, looked up quickly and stammered, "yea…so I can talk to
her…and get her…ummm…information."

"Lee, are you all right? You suddenly look a little
flushed?" Amanda asked straightening up and putting her hand on his.

He removed his hand from hers. "I'm fine. Why don't you
mingle for a few minutes and establish yourself away from me? I'm
going to step outside for a minute."

"Why?"

"I need some air." Lee tugged on his shirt collar as
if he wasn't getting quite enough oxygen.

"You don't want me to go with you?"

"NO!" Lee replied loudly. "I mean, no, just go
enjoy yourself. You'll get too cold outside in that dress." He
turned quickly and left her at the bar.

Amanda watched him for a moment then shrugged her shoulders.
`I can't believe how strangely Lee is acting tonight.' She
reflected. `It must be the meet. The information Katrina has must be
really important.'

She walked over to the hors d'oeuvre table to peruse the choices. A
long stem red rose suddenly appeared in her line of vision as a voice
with a French accent said, "Madame, how is it that a beautiful woman
such as yourself is alone right now."

Amanda turned and came face to face with the second most handsome man
she had ever seen. He wore the uniform of the Swiss military and was as
tall as Lee. His easy smile lit his face and his blue eyes sparkled.
She smiled and took the rose the officer offered. "Thank you,"
she responded, "for the rose and the compliment." She inhaled
the delicate fragrance.

"I am Captain Phillippe Broussard of the Swiss Army and you
are…?"

"Amanda King."

"Ahh, Amanda it is a lovely name. It means one who must be
loved."

Amanda blushed and smiled. "Really, I never knew that. My son is
named Phillip."

Broussard smiled back at her. "Oh, you have a son? Excellent. How
old is he?"

"He's ten and his brother, Jamie is eight."

They chatted for a few minutes about how he liked being stationed in
Washington, his home in Switzerland and his family. Amanda was laughing
at a story of his little brother falling into a pond when Lee appeared
at her elbow.

"Amanda?" Lee questioned looking at her.

"Oh, Lee. Lee Stetson this is Captain Phillippe Broussard of the
Swiss Army. Captain, this is my colleague Lee Stetson."

"Bonjour, Monsieur Stetson. I was telling Amanda about the escapades
of my little brother."

"Je m'excuse Capitaine. J'ai besoin d'avoir un mot avec
Mme King." Lee responded. "Peut-être les deux vous pouvez
parler beaucoup plus tard? Elle sera occupée pour le reste de la
soirée.

Broussard looked at Lee like he wanted to refuse the request but then he
took Amanda's hand, held it for a moment and kissed it briefly.
"Of course, excuse me, Amanda. Perhaps we can speak again before you
leave." Broussard excused himself and walked away.

Amanda followed the captain with her eyes until Lee's
urgent voice brought her back to him. "A-man-da, what were you doing
talking to that guy?"

Amanda was confused by his tone of voice. "Lee, you told
me to mingle. What did you say to him? And why would you say it in
French when he spoke perfect English?"

"I just…look it doesn't matter why I…never
mind. I just told him that I needed to have a word with you and that you
would be occupied for the rest of the evening. Mingle means to move on
to other people." Lee chastised.

"He was very polite…." Amanda trailed off when she
saw Katrina look their way several times and tap her wrist. "I think
Katrina is trying to get your attention."

Lee turned around with a whispered curse and casually swept
the room. Amanda noticed the small nods between the two of them.
"Okay, are you ready?"

"Of course."

"Give me that rose." He took it and left it on the
nearest table. "We don't want him to think that you are
attached. Are you sure you're ready?" Lee asked again.

"Yes, now leave me alone." Amanda answered. `I
can't believe he doubts my ability to keep someone distracted.'
She thought as she walked across the room to a table close to where
Katrina's escort was drinking what looked to be vodka and watching
where she had gone. The arrangements on the table had a variety of
ROSES. She smiled at him, placed her own glass on the table and examined
the flowers. She caressed the soft petals and inhaled the heady
fragrance. She saw out of the corner of her eye that he turned to watch
her.

A brusque deep voice came from behind her in barely accented
English. "I see you like roses."

"Yes, they're very beautiful."

"I am Anton Kostlov. I am a cultural attaché at the
Soviet Embassy."

"Amanda King." Amanda turned and faced the direction
that Lee and Katrina went in in order to force Kostlov to keep his back
to them.

Kostlov looked at her. "Have we met before, you look very
familiar."

Amanda thought for a moment to her interactions with the KGB.
"No, I don't believe so. Maybe I just have one of those common
faces."

"Dear lady, your face is beautiful. You have such classic
features." Kostlov looked at her necklace. "May I?" He
indicated to the stone. She nodded and he picked it up off her chest and
held it in his hand. "This stone was named after Czar Alexander
after it was first discovered in Russia. Have you been there? Did you
buy it there?"

"No, I've never been to the Soviet Union, I have heard
of the beautiful cathedrals and palaces though. My former husband bought
it for me many years ago in Africa." Amanda answered keeping an eye
out for Lee. "I thought the setting was beautiful and since we are
so close to Valentine's Day, I decided to wear it in honor of the
occasion."

"The setting is unique. The color of the stone changes
with the lighting it is exposed to." Kostlov told her as he placed
the necklace back on her chest. They talked for a few minutes comparing
cities in the Soviet Union and United States. As they continued to talk
about Washington, she looked over his shoulder and saw Lee making his
way to her. She shook her head to indicate that she was okay and he
slowed down.

Katrina arrived back at her escort's side. "Have you
been all right without me Anton?" She asked taking his arm and
smiling at Amanda.

"Of course, you weren't gone very long. This charming
lady has kept me occupied." Kostlov put his hand on Katrina's.

"Thank you," Amanda replied. "Oh, if you will
excuse me, I see a friend over by the bar. It was very nice talking to
you." Amanda walked towards the bar to wait for Lee to approach her
again.

While waiting for Lee, another man began a conversation with
her. Suddenly, Lee was at her elbow tugging slightly on it. Amanda
excused herself again and walked away. "What's wrong with
you?" he asked his teeth clenched.

"What do you mean?"

"You are not supposed to be flirting with everyone."

Amanda was indignant. She had done a good job keeping a KGB
agent occupied for nearly ten minutes. She felt a flush of anger at his
words. She whispered in a furious undertone. "I was not flirting
with everyone! I did what you asked. I distracted Kostlov."

"I know. I saw him fondling you." A small muscle in
his jaw pulsed.

"Lee Stetson! He was not fondling me. He was looking at my
necklace. You sound like you're jealous."

"I am not jealous!" Lee replied a little too
adamantly. He took a deep breath. "Look, I got what I needed. I
noticed that you haven't had anything to eat and you have been
nursing that drink for the last hour. Do you want to go and get
something to eat before I take you back to the office?"

Amanda accepted the implied truce in his words. "I suppose
so. I'm not taking you from some pre-Valentine's date am I?"

Lee shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair.
"No. Besides, I also don't like the looks of the men…people
around here."

Amanda ran her hand from his elbow to his wrist and patted his
hand. "I understand, Lee."

He held out his arm and when she took it he brought her close
and placed his hand on hers. He murmured with a weary sigh. "I'm
glad one of us does."

They walked out of the reception and onward to dinner.



Three Years Later –

Lee Stetson stood and looked in the closet he shared with his
wife. He was fresh from the bathroom and still had a slightly damp towel
wrapped around his waist. He was taking Amanda out tonight for dinner
and dancing for their anniversary. As he dug out his black suit and
selected a tie he saw a flash of red in amongst Amanda's dresses. He
pulled out the red satin cocktail dress that she had worn to the Swiss
Embassy party.

Suddenly, memories began to flash in his mind of the glimpse
of stocking and a red garter, her bare back, the slight view of the
swell of her breast as she leaned forward, and her body pressed up
against him as they walked out. He flushed as he remembered that night
was the first time he hadn't seen her as a mother and his friend
first but as a very attractive woman. He could feel blood rushing to a
particular part of his anatomy.

"Amanda," he called, "why haven't you worn
this dress again?"

His wife poked her head out of the bathroom and shrugged.
"I don't know, Sweetheart." She smiled. "Maybe you
haven't needed to be distracted in a while."

"Will you wear it for me tonight?" He made the puppy
dog eyes that always made her give in.

"Sure, if you'd like. Why?"

"Because now I can bring you home and peel you out of it
like I wanted to three years ago." He smiled broadly and sauntered
over to her.

She placed a finger in the towel around his waist and gave a
little tug. "Do you promise not to become too distracted?"

"Honey," he said as the towel fell to the floor,
"I promise you'll have my full attention.

The End

A Silly Scene

A tremor ran down her spine an instant before two hands covered her eyes. It
took a moment for her to recognize the familiar scent of sandalwood, spice, and
man--her man.

His warm breath caressed her neck. Her HEART skipped a beat when he whispered in
her ear, "Guess who?"

She thought she'd have a bit of fun at his expense, "Robert Redford?"

"Guess again." He kissed the nape of her neck.

"Umm . . . Paul Newman?"

"No." He moved to nibble on her ear.

"Oh, I know, Bruce Boxleitner!"

"Who?" He turned her to face him.

"You know that actor from that science fiction film Jamie likes, about the
computers. Never mind." She gave him a quick peck on the check. Not the greeting
she had in mind, but one appropriate for their location—the high school gym.
Since he'd been away on a zero contact mission, she decided to chaperone the
Valentine's dance at the school.

Not quite the evening she had in mind for their first anniversary. But now that
her husband was home, they could do a little celebrating after the dance.
Romantic music, a nice bottle of wine, a red lace and SATIN teddy, and lots and
lots of sex sounded like an ideal way to spend their anniversary.

Her body heated at the idea and she could feel the blush creeping up her neck.
She reined in her lustful thoughts, and returned to the present when she heard
her sons welcome Lee home. He gave them each a high-five before they went back
to join their friends.

He picked up a COOKIE covered in pink SUGAR from the tray on the table and bit
into it. "Hmmm . . . you sure do bake a mean cookie, Mrs. Stetson."

"Thank you, Mr. Stetson. Thank you for the flowers, too. They're lovely, but
unnecessary. I know how you feel about ROSES."

"I couldn't let today go by without sending you flowers. I'm sorry about not
including a card." His lowered his voice and shyly confessed, "I couldn't find
the right words to tell you how much you mean to me."

She cupped his cheek, feeling his five o'clock shadow rasp against her palm. A
shiver coursed through her and she had to suppress a moan when she thought about
how wonderful his whiskers would feel against the more sensitive parts of her
body. "You just did. And quite nicely, too."

His voice took on that gravely quality that never failed to turn her to jelly.
"I know what you're thinking, it's written all over your face. I'm in total
agreement. How much longer until we can be alone?"

She checked her watch. "Another half hour."

He groaned and adjusted his trousers. "It's going to be the longest thirty
minutes in history."

End.

Original Story

The farmhouse stood back from the road, a cement porch with white columns
flanking the front. He pulled the car up on the gravel turnaround and switched
off the motor. Looking to his companion, he grinned. "Are you ready?"

"Yes!" she almost giggled. "Let's see this place you've been blabbing about."

"Blabbing?" he tried to sound offended. Stepping out of the car, he walked
around to the passenger side to open her door. "Oh, how gallant." she took the
hand he offered

They walked down the wide stone steps flanked on each side by peony bushes. The
screen door that he pulled back creaked in that warm, welcoming way and she
hoped he didn't see the tears building up in her eyes.

Taking out an old-fashioned skeleton key from his pocket, he turned it slowly in
the lock, the door swinging open.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in obvious delight as she viewed the room before her. An
antique sofa sat against the wall, a recliner sitting companionably beside it. A
huge cabinet dominated the back wall. She touched it gently, tracing one of the
door carvings with her fingers. The cherrywood felt like SATIN against her skin.

She took in the rest of the room, noting a foot operated sewing machine and
curtains embroidered with ROSES.

"The furniture goes with the house if, we want it," her boyfriend said leading
her out to the kitchen. She loved the Frigidare, "like my grandma had" and
thought the apple-shaped canisters were some of the cutest things she had ever
seen. "What a great place to keep flour and SUGAR and tea." A dry sink stood
against one wall and a glass cabinet on the other. The sink was a single and
the enamel was flaking off. He answered her unasked question-"Yes Rachel we can
get a new one."

The bathroom was small but held all the necessary elements including a built in
linen closet that, when you opened it, smelled like home.

The bedrooms upstairs were large and one still contained a brass bed, gleaming
in the half light. Rachel ran her hands over the frame, imagining the two of
them lying there, her fingers twined around bars as she and Ben made love.

She knew before turning around that he was thinking the same thing. Reaching for
his hand, she pulled him close and kissed him not so gently. "Later." It was a
promise.

Back downstairs and leaving through the mud porch, they walked out into the side
yard. "They said there used to be a garden up there," Ben pointed to a bright
spot past the pine trees.

"Like carrots and peas and potatoes?"

"And green beans, and corn and turnips."

"Turnips?"

"Radishes?"

"Radishes!"

"Okay so we will negotiate on that."

He told her there was one more thing he wanted to show her, "something that
should seal the deal." Taking hands, they stopped by the car where Ben pulled
out a small picnic basket from the trunk.

"Where are we going?"

"Up the hill."

They crossed the dirt road, up the hill, past a barn. "Is that our barn?" she
asked, hope in her voice.

"Yes, it's our barn." he laughed.

They found a nice spot in a meadow of Brown-Eyed Susans or as he liked to say
"Black-Eyed Rachels." They ate a meal of chicken salad sandwiches, apple slices,
Oreos and rootbeer. The two of them talked about the house, the possibilities of
what they could do with 110 acres and how much they loved this spot.

"So, are you ready to talk to the guys?" he asked about going to the real estate
company.

"Hmmm," she leaned back into the sweet smelling grass, closing her eyes.

"Sweetie?" he finally asked.

"I need a COOKIE."

He pulled an Oreo out of the box and handed it to her. She munched it slowly,
before sitting back up.

"Yes!"

"Really yes?"

He pulled her and held her close. "Did I ever tell you how much I HEART you?"

She leaned her head on his shoulder. " Is that something like love?"

"It's exactly like love."


End

That Darn Cat!

He opened the refrigerator, took out a carton of eggs.

Miss Kitty wove around his feet brushing against his legs. He turned to take a step.

“MRRRAOW!”

The eggs dropped splattering all over. His legs slid out from under him, he crashed to the floor banging his tailbone hard and his head against a cabinet. Stars swirled in his vision. Miss Kitty licked her trod upon tail.

Within seconds it seemed like his whole family stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “What happened?”

“That Daa….”

He saw his young daughter and filtered his language.

“I mean THAT DARN CAT!”

An Unnatural Alliance



Part I



“This is useless.” Malik slammed his fist down on the table, making the
computer monitor shake, and then shoved his chair back from the desk in disgust.
“How is it that I can find almost every were panther in the world except my own
son?” He furrowed his brow and scowled at the screen.

Tamara set down the book she’d been reading and came to stand behind her mate.
Placing her hands on his shoulders, she began to knead the tense muscles while
peering at the screen. “Perhaps Lor has had more luck.”

A low rumble of appreciation rose from Malik’s throat in response to Tamara’s
touch. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax and enjoy her attention before
his sense of duty called him back to the matter at hand.

“My dear, you know full well that Lor hates his brother more than my cousin
hated me a hundred years ago.” Malik swiveled the chair around to face his
mate. “Nazeem tried and failed to kill both me and Steven back then. If Lorcan
finds my heir before I do, I doubt there will be a happy family reunion.”

Tam’s face clouded at the mention of the discord that ran in the family. She
tightened her lips and began to pace the small room they’d turned into their
office. It was from here that Malik ruled the were panther world over which he
reigned. With modern communications, he only needed to make the jump to other
communities if a dire emergency occurred or if his regal magic was needed.

“It’s all my fault.” Tam paused by the window and pushed aside the sheer
curtains that blocked the view of the rolling green pastures of their property.

Mal looked at the woman who’d been by his side through the centuries. To him,
she still looked as lovely as she had the first time he’d seen her. The hint of
silver in her red hair did nothing to detract from her beauty, and her figure
was still as alluring as ever. Faint lines graced the corners of her eyes and
mouth, giving evidence that their life together hadn’t always been easy, yet
she’d stuck by him despite it all. His Tam was a feisty woman, thank the
goddess!

“How can it be your fault? You did what you had to do to save Steven’s life.”

“But if I’d been stronger...” Tam sighed and turned to face him. “Lor’s
pregnancy was so difficult. Lizzie and Stephan had gone to be with Ben in
Australia; I was alone. I couldn’t cope.” She twisted her fingers, obviously
still unable to forgive herself for the past.

“And if Nazeem hadn’t made that attempt on Steven’s life. And if I had been
here to help. And if…” He purposely left the sentence hanging and went over to
her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close and tucked her head
under his chin. “Life is full of ‘ifs.’ What matters now is that we have to
find Steven before Lorcan does or we’ll lose both our sons; one to fratricide
and the other to the justice I will have to mete out.”

For a moment they held each other tight, giving and receiving comfort, until Tam
pressed her hands to his chest and stepped back. “Then you’d best get back to
work.”

Malik released her and returned to the computer. Quickly entering a web
address, an image of a wolf appeared on the screen. Below the picture the words
Lycan Link formed. He sat and stared at it for moment.

“How will that site help, Mal?” Tam came closer and peered at the screen.
“It’s for wolves.”

“Do you remember back in 1958, when there was that mess with the wolf sightings
near Mount Leinster?”

“Yes, you helped cover it up. The press finally decided the dead sheep was the
work of a bunch of youths, and the sightings were really just a stray dog. You
did a good job, and it’s all long forgotten.” She smiled at him, and he
wondered why her smile could still melt his insides after more than four
centuries together.

Leaning back in his chair, Mal recalled the incident. “Lycan Link sent over a
young Enforcer to do the job, but he was still wet behind the ears and had no
idea how to deal with the locals. If I hadn’t stepped in, the situation
would’ve blown up in his face and the were communities would have been exposed.”
Malik tapped his forefinger against his lips, then leaning forward, he placed
his hand on the mouse, clicked on enter and the screen changed. “His name was
Fielding. Robert Fielding and…” He scrolled down through the information,
giving a grunt of approval when he found what he was looking for. “The man’s
now in charge of all the Enforcers at the Link.” Another click of the mouse and
an email program opened. “They have resources at their disposal that I can only
dream of. Their whole society is organized like an oversized pack.” Malik
typed a short message and sent the email on its way. “I think it’s about time I
called in a favor.”

“You think the wolves will help? They’re not exactly friendly towards were
cats.” Tam frowned from her position at his side and Mal tugged her down to sit
on his lap.

“It’s been a while, but wolves have long memories. Fielding will help if he
can, but for now, we wait.”


Captain Robert Fielding frowned as he read the email yet again. When he’d first
seen the message on his screen, he’d been more than a little shocked. It had
been over fifty years since he’d set eyes on Malik Colburn. The fact that he
was asking for help after all this time was…intriguing.

The file Lycan Link had composed on Colburn was both thick and impressive.
Apparently, the man had been involved in undercover work for over four hundred
years and could be credited with turning the tide in more than one uprising. He
seemed to have a soft spot for the underdog…

Fielding chuckled at his own wording. Yeah, he’d been an underdog during that
case in Ireland back in the late fifties. Over his head and drowning fast
trying to deal with a bunch of irate farmers. Malik had helped cover up the
presence of a rogue wolf and smoothed things over with the locals before
disappearing without a trace.

He’d always wondered what had moved Malik to help him all those years ago.
Antipathy had always bubbled under the surface between their two races, though
the source of the deep mistrust had been lost in the mists of time. When Malik
had appeared and offered to assist, he hadn’t thought to question why, and by
the time he had his wits about him, the panther king had disappeared without a
trace.

Well, if the man wanted a favor after all this time, it was the least he could
do. And—Fielding flicked a glance out his window to check on one of his men—it
might prove to be just the type of case to distract an Enforcer from other
problems.

He rubbed his chin as he watched the Enforcer in question complete yet another
lap of the Lycan Link compound. Sweat glistened on the man’s body, yet the
exercise was doing little to ease the lines of tension that were so evident on
him. Reno wasn’t dealing well with Damien’s disappearance. He was on edge,
snapping at everyone, taking off without notice if he thought there was a lead
on his partner’s whereabouts. The only thing keeping the man under control was
his mate, Brandi.

Fielding drummed his fingers on his desk and wondered as to the best way to
approach Reno with the case. A request or a blunt order? Knowing how damned
bull-headed Reno could be, only a direct order and a few dire threats would make
the man take the case.”

A smile curled the captain’s lips. He hadn’t had a good fight in ages. Maybe
he’d just meet Reno in the gym and present him with the job there. A couple of
sparring rounds and a shouting match might well be cathartic for both of them.


Reno threw the file down on the desk and paced angrily about his small office.
Fielding had dumped a case on him that no one else wanted to touch with a ten
foot pole. Were panthers! He snorted derisively. Nothing but a punch of
pussies that weren’t even organized enough to keep track of their own members!

He ran his hands through his hair and winced when his fingers encountered a lump
on his head. Damn that hurt! For an old man, Fielding could still hold his own
in the gym. Reno had more than a few bruises and aching joints after their
recent encounter. He wondered what Brandi would say when she saw him tonight.
She’d likely fuss over him and then… No. Given how he’d been acting recently,
she’ll probably laugh, and tell him he deserved every lump and bump he got
because he’d been such a pain in the ass lately.

Exhaling slowly, Reno eased down into his chair. He knew he was being
difficult, but since Damien had gone rogue, concern for his friend was eating
away at him. Maybe the captain was right. Maybe he did need to take a step
back and clear his head.

Begrudgingly, Reno reached for the file he’d tossed on his desk and flipped it
open. The basic facts were that Malik Colburn, a.k.a. Malcolm Colburn, king of
the were panthers, was requesting Lycan Link’s assistance in locating his long
lost son…


Malik carefully closed his laptop computer and pushed it aside while sighing.
Thousands of miles from home, the expanse of the Atlantic separated him from his
mate. He hated being parted from her by such a distance and for such a length
of time. It was too reminiscent of his ‘spy’ career and the years of
misunderstanding that had nearly torn them apart.

However, it couldn’t be helped. The ocean was just too long a distance to
teleport across, so he’d had to resort to human conveyances. He gave a brief
shudder of distaste as he recalled the experience. How they could stand being
packed like sardines in a flying tin can, he couldn’t fathom. And dealing with
the security measures at the airports had nearly tried his patience to the
limit! Well, the worst was over. He had a room in a hotel, had just finished
talking with Tam via Skype, and was now ready to jump to Lycan Link
headquarters. With any luck, he’d be able to obtain the assistance he needed
and return home in a matter of days. Tam had hinted that she’d have a warm
welcome for him upon his return, and his body stirred at the ideas that brought
to mind.

With thoughts of the soft press of Tam’s lips on his, Malik prepared to teleport
to his meeting with the wolf. A quick glance in the mirror revealed he’d erased
all signs of travel weariness; his suit was pressed, his tie tasteful. He
smiled, thinking of how Tam would fuss with adjusting it if she were there with
him. Half distracted by thoughts of his mate and her tender ministrations, he
materialized in the public reception area of Lycan Link with a pleasant smile
curling the corners of his mouth.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to retain that congenial frame of mind. Barely
had he felt the firmness of terrazzo tiles under his feet, when squeals of
fright erupted to his right. Startled, he turned to see a young woman sitting
behind a desk with a look of shock on her face. Before he could even begin to
explain his sudden appearance, a klaxon blared, jarring his sensitive hearing.

All his senses instantly sprang to alert, and he darted his gaze about as a
cacophony of noise came at him from all directions. Pounding feet, shouted
orders, metal security shields clanging shut. A set of doors burst open and half
a dozen heavily muscled and angry men surged into the room. Two of them
immediately transformed into even angrier wolves and began to circle him. Malik
instinctively shifted and snarled a warning at the two smaller animals.

For a moment they were at a standoff, but then seemingly out of nowhere, another
Lycan darted in and nipped at his back leg. Spinning around, Malik lashed out
with his claws and heard a very satisfying whimper of pain as he connected with
his target. The wolf cringed away but its compatriots growled and took a
collective step closer.

Malik let out another warning snarl and tensed, ready to fight when a commanding
voice was raised above the pandemonium.

“Mr. Colburn, would you mind not wounding any more of my men.”

Raising his head, Malik sniffed the air and relaxed. He never forgot a scent
and this was one he recognized; it was the man he’d come to see. In a shimmer
of movement, Mal returned to human form.

With a secure knowledge of who and what he was in the shifter world, Malik took
a moment to adjust his suit coat and cuffs while calmly taking in the appearance
of Robert Fielding. The man had aged well. Lycans weren’t as long-lived as
panthers, but their life-spans were still longer than human ones by a few
decades. Fielding must be past middle age but he looked fit and powerful.
Ignoring the wolves that still stood around him, Malik stretched out his hand in
greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Fielding. I didn’t, however, expect quite
such a reception committee.”

The captain glanced around at the assembled Enforcers and DC officers. “Stand
down, men. Let me introduce Malik Colburn, monarch of all were panthers and
direct descendent of the goddess Bastet.” He gripped Malik’s hand in welcome.
“It’s good to see you after all this time.”

Malik grinned as the powerful man returned his handshake. “You’ve come up in
the world since we last met.” He looked around for the Lycan he’d mauled.
“You’d better get those claw marks treated, panther scratches scar other
shifters.”

The various Lycan employees began to disperse and Fielding gestured towards the
door at the back of the reception area. “Despite the actions of my men, I’d
like to welcome you to Lycan Link. My office is this way.” As the captain
passed the desk, he motioned to the woman who was still staring at Malik as if
he was some kind of apparition. “Julie, when you’ve recovered, would you please
ask Reno Smith to join me in my office.”

The girl nodded but still gaped at him, and Malik chuckled under his breath as
he followed Fielding to his office. He was led through a labyrinth of halls and
security checks and took it all in with interest. Lycans bustled about intent
on their various jobs. Most paused as he passed by, discreetly sniffing the
air, and then casting curious glances in his direction as they recognized his
species. Fielding offered no explanation however, and no one approached with
questions. The discipline within Lycan Link seemed top-notch.

Arriving at their destination, Fielding allowed Malik to enter the office ahead
of him and then moved to sit behind the large mahogany desk. Malik took one of
the visitor chairs, barely holding back a frown as it creaked under his weight.
It had to be the most uncomfortable piece of furniture he’d ever sat in.

He must have given himself away somehow for the captain shot him an apologetic
look. “Sorry. That chair’s my defense against people staying too long. I’ll
get you another.” As he moved to stand up, Malik shook his head.

“Don’t bother. I’ve sat on worse.” He adjusted himself as best he could and
then quirked an eyebrow at the Lycan leader. “Who is this Reno Smith?”

“He’s my top Enforcer. I’ve put him on this case in the hopes that it will keep
him grounded.” At Malik’s inquisitive look, Fielding sighed. “His partner
recently went rogue, and Reno’s taking it pretty hard. He needs a distraction
and your case may be just what he needs.”

As the captain finished talking, Malik heard the door open behind him. Raising
his head slightly, he unobtrusively inhaled, taking in the man’s scent. The man
that had entered was dangerous, that much was obvious. There was latent anger
in the air as well. Turning as the wolf came into view, he took a long look at
him. Assuming this was Reno Smith, he saw a tall, well-built man at the peak of
his strength. And, from the look on his face, dealing with him would be like
handling a prickly pear. Suppressing a sigh, Malik knew his diplomatic skills
were going to be tested to their fullest.

Malik glanced back at the captain in anticipation of an introduction. Robert
Fielding looked him in the eye before turning to the younger man. “Reno, this
is Malik Colburn. Take a seat and we’ll go over the facts of this case.” He
gestured to the chair next to Malik’s.

Reno propped himself against the wall. “I’d rather stand.”

“I said sit!” The captain barked.

With the reluctance reminiscent of a recalcitrant teen, Reno Smith threw himself
into the chair.


Reno forced himself to unclench his jaw, and stretched his long legs out in
front of him. He didn’t want to be here but an order was an order, so he had to
make the best of it. The captain shoved a sheaf of papers his way and he picked
them up without glancing at the contents; he’d read the file.

“So,” Malik Colburn turned to look at him. “The captain was telling me you’re
his best Enforcer.”

Reno grunted. Colburn was talking to him like he was some kid in need of
soothing. He made no effort to bite back the rude comment that sprang to his
lips. “And he’s told me that you’re the reigning monarch of a bunch of
kitty-cats.”

Malik eyes narrowed, but he inclined his head obviously determined to ignore the
slur. For a moment they silently studied each other. Colburn looked good for
his age, considering he was over five hundred years old. Grey silvered his
temples, but the rest of his hair was black as night. Lines bracketed his mouth
and marred his forehead, but the man was still fit and powerful.

Reno had observed his entrance into the Lycan Link lobby through the
surveillance cameras. When the alarm signaling a security breach had sounded,
he’d immediately gone to his command post and watched the altercation, ready to
coordinate the movement of more Enforcers should the situation have called for
it.

The were panther had shifted smoothly and moved with an enviable grace and
fluidity. Reno couldn’t deny the man’s skills. Still, he was a cat and that
fact alone stirred an instinctive caution. He decided to put Colburn on the
defensive and see what the old man was made of.

“You’re known as Malik? But…” He feigned checking the papers in front on him.
“Official records have you listed as Malcolm? Why the name change? Trying to
blur your trail?”

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched. “Actually, yes, I am. Living as long
as we do, panthers have an ever harder time hiding from the human population
than other shifters. Name changes and frequent relocation are necessary to stay
under the human radar. Especially since the computerization of records.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason? You’ve been involved in numerous bits of
espionage. Perhaps some of it has been less than…legitimate?” Reno flicked
idly through the reports, his voice purposely laced with a hint of accusation.

Colburn steepled his fingers. “Legitimate? By whose standards? Governments
come and go, the boundaries between countries change. I do what’s right for my
people, and my conscience.”

“For your people. But what about mine? Just a few moments ago you attacked one
of my men. How do we know you can be trusted?” Reno narrowed his eyes.

“That’s enough, Smith.” Captain Fielding interrupted with a curt comment.
“Colburn is the official representative of his people. You will treat him with
the same courtesy and respect you would any other diplomat.”

“Just letting it be known that I’m cautious, Captain. There’s a history between
our people and we’re all aware of it. Lycan-panther relations are dicey at the
best of times, and I prefer to have all the cards on the table before we start.”
Reno schooled his features into a bland expression.

“Can’t let go of the old dog and cat animosity?” Malik made a gentle gibe then
shook his head. “It’s ancient history, Mr. Smith. Both of our species have
done things to be ashamed of, but isn’t it time we moved on? Living in the past
will get us nowhere.”

Reno opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again. Living in the past was
what the Purists did. Was he letting his own surly attitude color his thinking?
Perhaps. He clenched his fists and then forced them to relax. “My apologies,
Mr. Colburn.”

Malik inclined his head. “Accepted. Actually, I believe we have something in
common. As I understand it, we’re both searching for someone we care about.
You, for your partner, and I for my son.”

Reno was silent for a moment, staring at the floor and thinking about the
feeling that roiled in his belly over Damien’s disappearance. Worry over his
partner’s well-being. Fear that if—when—he was found he’d be too far gone to be
saved. Anger at himself for not somehow preventing the horrific events that led
to Damien’s breakdown. If the man beside him was even feeling half of these
things… He lifted his gaze to find Colburn studying him and a look of
understanding passed between them.

The faintest hint of relief could be seen on Malik’s face, but he swiftly hid it
and eased back in his chair only to frown and readjust his position.

A chuckle escaped Reno. “I’ve sat in that chair enough to know your butt and
back are cursing you right now.”

“Indeed, my…butt…is less than happy at the moment.”

Fielding stood up. “Then perhaps you two could move your meeting elsewhere?
Reno, pull up whatever files we have on Steven Colburn and let Malik have access
to them. Then the two of you can decide where to start looking.”

Reno nodded and led the way to the archives.


“I’m surprised these files haven’t been digitized.” Malik leafed through the
papers Reno had extracted from the files. They were seated in Smith’s office,
on either side of Smith’s desk. The other desk stood empty, and Malik, guessing
that it belonged to the rogue partner, had purposely avoided using it.

“There had been plans to put it all on micro-fiche, but technology overtook us
and now we’re slowly scanning everything into the database. There are a lot of
records however, and it’s slow going.” Smith stood and poured himself a coffee,
gesturing with the jug. “You want some?”

Malik looked up. “What? Oh, no thank you.”

“As you can see from those records, the first mention we can find of your son is
when he volunteered at the New York recruiting office to fight in France in
1917. He was released from service two years later, and then he simply
disappears; we can’t find a single trace of him after that.”

The older man nodded and continued to read the report of his son’s wartime
experiences. “It seems he joined up with a fellow were panther. A Michael
Cooper.” He turned to the last page and his breath hitched. He looked up at
the Lycan. “Cooper died in France. Seems they were part of the Lost Battalion.
Steven was lucky to have survived.”

Reno nodded, “Yeah. Casualties were high. Must’ve been a severe wound if
Cooper couldn’t recover from it.”

“If there were humans around, he wouldn’t have been able to shift to help with
the healing.” Malik shook his head. “Weres should stay well out of human
wars.”

“You didn’t. From the Huguenots in France at the end of the sixteenth century
to Afghanistan and Iraq in this one, you’ve made a business of meddling.”
Again, there was a hint of accusation in his voice.

“Yes. But I do what I do to help bring conflicts to an end, using subterfuge
and cunning. I don’t remember ever using a firearm in anger.”

“So you rule by the tenet ‘do as I say, don’t do what I do’?”

Malik studied the man before him. There was a bitterness about him—the need to
express his inner turmoil by lashing out—but also an inner strength. His
instincts told him that Smith was intrinsically a good man. He decided to let
the comment pass, and inclined his head in agreement. “Sometimes, it’s the only
way.”

Reno stared at him for a moment, then took a swig of his coffee before sitting
down. He exhaled slowly, appearing tired. Perhaps realizing he was being
difficult, when he spoke next, his tone was milder. “What we don’t have in our
records is how and why Steven Colburn ended up here in America?”

“Soon after he disappeared in 1904 I looked for him. I found evidence that he’d
signed on as a cabin boy on a merchant ship bound for North America. Records,
even at the time, were fairly detailed. The ship was due to dock in Georgia.”
Malik ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “I followed the trail, but
after arriving in America I could find no further information.”

Reno checked the file in front of him. “It says here, your son was born in
1892, he must have been very young when he ran away to sea.”

“He didn’t run away.” Malik hesitated. What had happened was really Tamara’s
tale to tell, and he debated whether it was even relevant to the search for his
son. Finally, deciding that Smith needed all the facts in order to help, he sat
forward in his chair clasping his hands before him. Telling an outsider,
especially a Lycan, about the in-fighting within the were panther community was
not something that came easily to his tongue.

“He didn’t run away,” he repeated. “My mate made him go. Forcefully. Against
his will...and hers.”

Reno set his cup down, a frown furrowing his brow. “Wait, back up. Are you
saying you kicked a cub, your own child, out of your home?”

The panther nodded. “To my constant regret, yes, that’s exactly what we did.
He was only twelve years old. It was because—”

Malik was interrupted by the opening of the door. A stunning redhead half
entered and smiled at him before turning a look on Reno that had Malik pining
for his own mate.

“Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready to leave.
Will you be much longer?”

Reno stood and covered the few feet to the female before enfolding her in a hug.
He closed his eyes and the tension in his shoulders visibly lessened, as if her
mere presence was a tonic he needed. With his arm around her waist, he turned
to Malik. “Colburn, this is my mate, Brandi. She’s a DC officer here at Lycan
Link.”

“DC?” Malik raised his brows while observing the woman before him. Red hair, a
nicely rounded figure, eyes dancing with mischief. The woman was so reminiscent
of his Tam, the ache in his heart was almost physical.

She held out her hand and smiled. “Disaster Control. When there are shifter
sightings by humans, I and my team move in and create plausible explanations to
conceal our presence. Some people,” she cast a reproachful look at her mate,
“call us professional liars.”

Mal stood, took her hand and made a courtly half bow. “A reprehensible term to
use when referring to someone as lovely as you.”

“Thank you. And you are?” Outwardly, her inquiry was socially polite but he
could sense the way she was assessing him; the intelligence behind her eyes
undeniable. Yes, this woman was his Tam over and over.

“Malik Colburn, the panther king.” Reno interrupted, his eyes pointedly fixed
on their still joined hands.

Brandi rolled her eyes, removed her hand from his and nestled closer to Reno.
“I’m pleased to meet you. That was quite an entrance you made earlier today.”

“I thought I was expected. However, it seems that you weren’t aware of the
method of my arrival.”

“No, we weren’t. But it gave us an opportunity to test our security procedures
in real time. I guess we should thank you.” She smiled again, and looked up at
her mate before returning her gaze to him. “Would you two prefer to continue
this meeting over dinner?”

“You’re inviting me to your home?” Malik wondered how Smith felt about the
invitation. The man seemed to have a chip on his shoulder where panthers were
concerned. Regrettable, but understandable; ancient history and folk memories
couldn’t’ be erased within the course of one brief meeting.

“Yes, I’ve never met a panther before and it would be an honor if you’d come.”
She nudged her mate. “Wouldn’t it, Reno?”

“Of course.” Smith’s answer was curt, but not totally unwelcoming.

“Then I accept your invitation. Just no chocolate for dessert, or you might
have a serious situation on your hands.”

“Allergic to the stuff are you?” She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m on a permanent
diet; no chocolate allowed.”


Later that evening, Malik sat back with a bottle of beer in his hand, raising it
in a silent toast to the couple at the table. ”That was delicious, Brandi,
thank you.”

Reno raised his beer in reply. The man had been polite but rather quiet during
dinner. However, he appeared more relaxed now and seemed more inclined to talk.
“Earlier, in my office, you were about to tell me why your son left home.”

Malik flicked a glance at Brandi as she cleared the table, and then shrugged.
There was no harm in speaking in front of the woman; she was a Lycan Link
employee after all. “Soon after Steven was born, a messenger came to see me
from Spain.”

Reno nodded. “Your file says you’re from there originally.”

“Yes. Although the family came from North Africa long before I was born; that’s
why we all have Moorish names. I suppose today I should say Arabic names.” He
looked up as Brandi came back in and sat down, a cup of coffee in her hand.

She shuffled her chair which left her sitting closer to her mate. “What did the
message say, Malik?”

“It was from one of my younger sisters. A cousin of mine, Nazeem, had been
bad-mouthing me. Telling anyone who wanted to listen that I was sitting on my
backside living the life of a lord in Ireland.” Malik took a deep breath and
blew it out through his teeth. “That I didn’t care about my fellow weres, and
that I was working hand-in-glove with the humans to rid the world of all
shifters.”

Reno narrowed his eyes. “The man was clever. What he was saying was partially
correct and verifiable.”

Brandi nodded. “A text book DC officer strategy. It’s always best to wrap up a
lie in semi-truths.”

Malik idly twirled the beer bottle in his hand. “Yes. He’d whipped up some
deep hatred of me; more and more people were backing him to have me removed. Of
course, he intended to take over once I was no longer in the picture.”

Reno frowned and pulled over the case file from the end of the table where it
had lain untouched during the meal. Flipping through it, he quickly found what
he’d been looking for. “How could he have taken over? Even if he didn’t know
about your son, you already had an heir. A grandson, Benjamin.”

“Right. Ben was a grown man and newly mated at the time. They had moved to
Australia to help build that country; he saw it as a good opportunity. There’s
a lot of open land down there for a panther to run in. My daughter, Lizzie, and
her mate had gone to join him.” Malik gave a half smile. “This was over a
hundred years ago, remember, and communication was slow at best. By the time
Ben would’ve heard of my demise, Nazeem would have been widely accepted as my
successor. At least that seemed to be his plan. However, unbeknownst to him, I
now had a son. A babe that Tamara and I doted on.” Malik fell silent, his
thoughts reaching back into the past. He could swear that he smelled his new
born cub, felt his slight weight in his arms.

“Go on, Malik. What happened? Did Nazeem come after you?” Brandi’s voice
pulled him back to the present.

“Yes. He came after me but I led him away from the farm. My cousin was so
single-minded, that at the time he didn’t even think of using my mate against
me. And at that point he still didn’t know of the babe. We fought, numerous
times, but I always made sure it was in front of non-shifters. Finally, during
a fight in one of the poorer quarters of Dublin the coward pulled a knife on me
while I was distracted by some humans. It went in deep and I knew that if I’d
not been a were it would’ve been a mortal blow. I feigned death and he was
arrested for murder.”

Brandi’s gasp made Malik look up. “What about the witnesses? If they thought
you were dead, they’d have tried to dispose of your body or taken it to a
morgue. I don’t know what the practice was at the time but surely they wouldn’t
have left a corpse on the street. And your personal effects might have had
identifying information. Did you just get up and walk away when no one was
looking?” She shook her head and frowned. “I suppose you could blame grave
robbers but... Oh my God, Malik. A situation like that is a DC officer’s
nightmare!”

Malik chuckled at her reaction. “Those were simpler times, Brandi. People were
more worried about survival than dwelling on what had become of a dead drifter,
which was the part I’d been playing.”

“I suppose...” She still looked concerned, and Reno playfully tugged at one of
her curls.

“Let the man continue his story, babe.”

Taking another sip of beer, Malik resumed his explanation. “When Nazeem came up
for trial, although there were plenty of witnesses, the lack of a body resulted
in the case being dismissed. Nazeem ran back to Spain and all was quiet for a
few years. I started to work again.” He slanted a sheepish grin at the Lycans.
“Nothing that took me away for too long, but I was away often enough that Tam
resurrected the old tale of me being unfaithful and off dallying with different
women in Dublin, Belfast, and even as far away as London.” He shrugged. “It
stopped the neighbors from asking too many questions. Unfortunately, little
pitchers have big ears and Steven heard the stories, and believed them.”

Reno grunted. “Not exactly the impression a young boy wants to have of his
father.”

“True, but there was no other way.” Malik frowned still regretting how the
necessary subterfuge had damaged his relationship with his son. “To make
matters worse, the rumors began again that Nazeem was still intent on claiming
the throne. However, by now he knew of Steven’s existence and was going to get
rid of my son and heir first.”

Brandi gasped softly and tightened her fingers around Reno’s arm. The two
exchanged a pain-filled glance, and he speculated on what they were recalling.
Had they lost a child or perhaps that of a friend? It was none of his business,
of course, so he continued on with his tale.

“A child is far easier to murder than a powerful adult. In an effort to protect
Steven, I decided to take go after Nazeem, to take the fight to him rather than
sit and wait for him to come and find me.”

“And Steven was how old at this point?” Reno was making notes now.

“Steven had just turned twelve and my mate was in her third trimester of another
pregnancy.” Malik looked at Brandi. “She had gone one hundred and seventeen
years without conceiving; suddenly she managed to give me a son, and to conceive
again only a decade later. To say we were happy would be an understatement.”

“But you left her, pregnant and with a half grown cub.” Reno made more notes.

“We decided it was for the best. We weren’t to know that Nazeem was already in
Ireland and watching the house. After I had left, one of the neighbors came for
tea and gossip; that’s how Tam found out about the man with the strange accent
who had been asking questions about us and the farm.

“Panthers don’t have the thought connection that mated Lycans do; we only have
an empathic link, so there was no way Tam could contact me. She was worried, I
could sense that, but put it down to her usual concern whenever I was away.” He
set down his drink, stood up and began pacing the room. “Tam didn’t know what
to do. She couldn’t defend Steven; in the third trimester a panther can’t
shift, it’s far too dangerous. And Steven was too young and inexperienced to
offer much of a fight; his panther was still only a quarter of its full-grown
adult size. If Nazeem had come for them Steven would have been in grave
danger.” He paused and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Tam made a decision;
one she regrets to this day. She knew Steven wouldn’t leave if she asked him,
so decided to drive him away with verbal abuse, tales that he was no longer
wanted now that a new cub was on the way... It worked. He ran away, no doubt
hating both of us and we haven’t seen him since.”

A tear trickled down Brandi’s cheek. “Poor Tamara, it must have broken her
heart. But what else could she do?” She blinked and wiped her damp cheeks.
“At least Steven was safe. Did Nazeem come to the farm looking for him?”

Malik closed his eyes and fought to rein in the hatred that surged though him
whenever he recalled what happened next. “Yes. And that’s why he’s dead.”

Reno’s deep voice quietly broke into Malik’s nightmare. “What did he do,
Malik?”

“He raped her; left her bruised and bleeding on the flagstones of our kitchen
floor. I sensed her fear and pain and returned immediately but was too late.
She’d been near death and in desperation to save both herself and our unborn
child, she took a chance and shifted. She healed, but Lorcan was born soon
after. He lived, but the magic of the shift affected him. My younger son
is...strange; he has no familial feelings and is driven by a need for power, by
hatred.”

“Hatred of you?”

Malik looked up at Brandi’s words. “No, for his brother. He’s trying to find
Steven and plans to kill him in order to become my successor. And that is why
we need to find my heir before he does.”


TBC.

An Unnatural Alliance



Part II




Several days later, Reno sat at his computer scrolling through the notes he’d
made on Steven Colburn, trying to hold back the rising frustration he felt. The
damned Colburn cub had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. There
was no mention of him in any Lycan records, and on the human front there wasn’t
so much as a whisper beyond his service during the First World War.

No one knew what name he might be living under, what type of occupation he might
have. Hell, they didn’t even have a picture of the man. Reno frowned and
stared unseeingly across his office. What might Colburn look like now? As a
child he’d had a strong resemblance to his father... Hmm. An idea came to mind
and Reno reached for the phone. A quick call to forensics might just be the
ticket.

Two hours later he sat on the edge of Brandi’s desk grinning.

“So this is Steven Colburn?” His mate eyed the picture before her, a smile
curling the corners of her mouth. “Yum!”

Frowning, Reno snatched back the paper and stood up. “Not exactly. It’s a
computerized mock up; a compilation of Malik and Tam’s features based on the
assumption that he continued to favor his sire in looks.”

Brandi got up and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. She then
peered over his shoulder to get another look at the image. “Mock up or not,
he’s still very good looking.” She took the sting out of the words by running
her hands over his chest. “But you’re even better in my books.”

He growled in mock ferocity then twisted around to kiss her. “It’s a good thing
you qualified that statement.” After a very satisfying moment, he regretfully
ended their kiss and pulled away to study the image of the were panther again.
“It’s not much, but it’s more than we had before. Tomorrow, I’ll email a copy
of this to our district offices. That way they can keep a look out for the
man.”

“Good idea.” She took a final peek at the page before returning to her desk
gesturing at the pile of papers covering the surface. “I’ll be a while longer.
Do you want to meet at Clancy’s? I feel like having one of their burgers for
supper.”

“Sounds fine to me. I’ve got a few errands to run. I’ll see you there in a
couple of hours.” Reno pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and went on
his way.


Brandi was late. Reno sat in his usual spot and surveyed the room idly while
sipping a beer. It was too early for anything exciting to be happening. A few
of the regulars had gathered around a table talking. A young couple were
playing pool, laughing and more interested in the each other than the game.
Near the end of the bar a man was chatting with the barmaid.

Reno began to scan the room again and then froze as his brain registered an
important fact. The man at the bar. Damn, it couldn’t be. What were the
chances? Pulling the computerized image of Steven Colburn from his shirt
pocket, Reno glanced from it to the man and then back again. The resemblance
was striking. Mind you, there were probably hundreds of thousands of men in the
world with dark hair and green eyes, however...

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, sorting through the myriad of scents that
met his nostrils. When he’d entered Clancy’s he hadn’t bothered; the smell of
beer, sweat and fried food had hung heavily in the air just like always, as
comforting and familiar as the scents of his own home, but now... His eyes shot
open and a smile curved the corners of his mouth. Cat. And not a domestic
feline, either.

Studying the man out of the corner of his eye, Reno debated his next move.
Should he approach the man? Leave and contact Malik? He decided against the
latter. While there was no doubt that a were panther was in the room, he might
not be the right one.

He leaned back against the bar and began to eavesdrop in the hope of gaining any
information that might identify the man as his quarry. The barmaid was flirting
shamelessly as she leaned forward, her ample cleavage quivering as she wiped
down the polished surface. Apparently she found the man as appealing as Brandi
had. The memory of his mate ogling the panther’s image had Reno clenching his
fists. Damn it, he really didn’t like cats!


“So, are you in town for long?” The girl wiped the bar repeatedly in front him
and Cole smiled at her efforts. She was a pretty thing with light brown skin
and dark eyes.

“Just passing through. Working my way cross country.”

The girl leaned her elbows on the top of the now spotless bar, the action
pushing her breasts together deepening the valley between them. “What do people
call you?”

Cole eyed her chest appreciatively then examined her face. She was definitely
easy on the eyes, with a friendly smile and dark corkscrew curls framing her
face. A flicker of interest stirred within him. He relaxed in his seat,
prepared to see where the conversation went. “I’m Cole.”

“Cole.” She exhaled his name while sweeping her gaze over him. Her smile
widened. “Well, Cole, my name’s Justine.” She gestured at the empty beer
bottle in front of him. “Can I get you another?”

He nodded and accepted the new drink from her, laying down some cash on the
counter. Cole watched her shapely behind as Justine moved over to the register
with his money. She took a moment to write something on a pad before returning
with his change.

She seemed unwilling to move away from where he sat, and started to wipe the
already clean and dry glasses. “Where you headed?”

“A little town in up-state New York. You’ve probably never heard of it.”

“Oh yeah?” She lowered her lashed and slowly licked her lips. “You might be
surprised at what I know. Why don’t you try me?” Her voice deepened on the
double entendre.

“Farmingdale.” Cole watched as her face dropped. He chuckled to himself at her
reaction to his refusal to take the bait.

She recovered quickly however. “Nope. Never heard of it. What are you going
there for?”

“I’ve bought an old property in the area. Thought I’d settle down, put down
some roots.” He took a swig of his beer.

Justine leaned forward, again making sure Cole got another bird’s eye view of
her breasts. “I may never have heard of Farmingdale, but I know this town
pretty well. Like, I know where a person could be private, where it’s really
dark. Know what I mean?” She scraped her teeth oh so slowly over her lower lip
and then winked.

It might be a good idea, Cole thought. It had been ages since he’d been with
someone. A restless, unsettled feeling seemed to constantly plague him. Maybe
Justine’s companionship would provide some relief. “Yeah, I know what you
mean.” He quirked the corner of his mouth.

Justine’s voice became husky and she placed her hand over his where it rested on
the polished wood surface. “I get off at eleven if you’re looking for something
to do later.”

Cole felt the scrap of paper being pushed into his palm. He hesitated for a
moment before closing his fingers around the paper. Perhaps it was time he
started to live life again. “Eleven. I’ll remember that.”

For a moment their eyes met in a silent communication of what was to come. Cole
noted the scent of arousal coming from her, the way her breathing had increased
in anticipation. His own body stirred and he gave a brief nod.

Justine appeared about to speak but some customers called for her attention and
she went to take their order.

Cole glanced at the paper in his palm, at the numbers which must belong to her
cell phone. Pocketing the note, he turned around to survey the customers in the
bar, pleased with his plans for the evening. Justine should prove more
entertaining than reruns on cable.

Leaning back with his elbows on the edge of the polished surface, he took in the
sights and smells of everyday Americana. After traveling all over Europe and
Asia for a couple of decades, it was good to be home. Well, not quite home.
Tomorrow, he’d start the journey that would take him to Farmingdale, but he was
tired and needed to sleep a full night in a bed, preferably not alone.

He inhaled deeply and held it before letting it out very slowly. Intermingled
with the normal odors of a roadhouse was one that had his body instinctively
stiffening in preparation for a fight. Dog. He mentally spat the word out.
And not an ordinary dog either. There was a wolf in the bar. Cole
surreptitiously sniffed the air again to determine where the scent was coming
from. He turned his head and discovered a man watching him from the other end
of the bar. The fellow lifted his beer in greeting, slid off his bar stool and
began to move towards him.

Cole narrowed his eyes as the Lycan came close enough to speak to him. He’d met
a lot of shifters in his travels, and he didn’t trust a single one. Not since
Michael.

“You’re in wolf territory, kitty-cat.” The man’s eyes were narrowed, a trace of
a challenge lacing his words.

Cole barely suppressed an irritated growl. “I don’t have to ask permission of
your Alpha to travel through your territory. I’m not a dog.”

The man stiffened at his words. “No, you’re not. You lot are nothing but a
bunch of pussies.”

Cole snorted. “I bet I could kick your ass.”

“Perhaps.” The man inclined his head briefly. “I can’t deny facts. When you
shift you’re bigger. But I’ll leave you with enough damage that you’ll remember
me long after the fight.”

They eyed each other for a moment while each took a drink. Cole turned back to
the bar and placed his beer on the wood. “What’s your name?”

“Reno Smith. You?”

“Cole.” He didn’t trust the shifter, and saw no reason to give his full name.

“That’s it? Just the one name? Like Rambo?”

“The rest is none of your business.”

Smith slowly put his bottle on the bar and drew himself up to his full height.
Cole could feel the power rippling off the wolf’s body. The man was definitely
an Alpha. His aura of command was tangible.

“Actually, it is my business. I’m an Enforcer. You know what that is?”

Cole quirked an eyebrow. “I’m guessing some kind of K-9 police force.”

“A K-9 force that can whip your ass if you overstep yourself around here. Where
are you staying?”

“Around.”

“For how long?”

Smith’s questions were making Cole uneasy. The interest in the man’s eyes was
too keen. “I didn’t come in here to be interrogated.” Cole stood up and moved
to leave. Smith grabbed his shoulder and Cole frowned as the man’s fingers bit
into his flesh. The damned dog wasn’t holding anything back. Their eyes locked
and nostrils flared as a silent battle of wills was exchanged before a jingling
at the door announced that someone had entered the establishment.

The sound brought them to their senses. Both men relaxed and stepped back. A
quick glance around revealed that no one was looking their way, everyone’s
attention was drawn to a gorgeous red-head who had just entered. She scanned
the room and then hurried their way. Cole watched as she wrapped her arms
around the Enforcer and kissed him. Instinct told him the man was mated to the
little beauty; a bit of envy stabbed at him before he used Smith’s momentary
distraction to make his escape.

Leaving the building, he quickly walked away from the bar. Behind him, he heard
the door open and sensed the wolf watching him. Cole smirked knowing there was
nothing the Lycan could do with humans milling about. He chuckled to himself
pleased to have bested the dog, even in such a small way.


Reno fumed as the cat turned the corner and disappeared from sight. He held
back a growl of frustration and returned to the bar where he’d left a bewildered
Brandi.

“What was that all about?” She glared at him, obviously not pleased at the way
he’d simple walked away with no explanation.

“That, I think, was Steven Colburn.”

“Really?” Her eyebrows shot upward.

“Yep.” Reno put his hand under her elbow and guided her back out of the bar.

“Why are we leaving? We were going to eat here.” Brandi tried to pull her arm
away from his grip.

“We’ll get take-out.” He stopped by their cars, opened her door and ushered her
inside. “You pick up whatever you want, and we’ll meet at home.” He closed the
door and spoke to her through the window. “Right now, I need to contact our
friendly cat king.”


Cole stood in a side alley watching the wolf drive away. Why was the man so
interested in him? Was he just an overzealous watchdog trying to prove himself?
Probably. His experience with wolves in Europe had shown him that they were
entirely too territorial for his liking. Panthers were roamers, setting up home
wherever and whenever the spirit moved them. Staying in one place too long,
having long term relationships... He snorted; that wasn’t the way of his
people. The fact made him vaguely uncomfortable and he shook his head,
wondering what was wrong with him lately. Nothing seemed...right...anymore.

He began to walk down the street, shoving his hands in his pockets. A piece of
paper crackled against his fingers and he pulled it out. Justine’s phone
number. Hmm... Part of him said he should leave town; that the wolf’s interest
in him spelled trouble. But was he going to let a dog ruin his plans for the
evening?

No.

He had as much right to be here as anyone. Carefully folding the slip of paper,
he placed it back in his pocket and looked around. Maybe he’d catch a movie.
That would fill in a few hours while waiting for Justine to finish her shift.


Reno paced the length of his living room waiting for Malik to answer the phone.
While the panther he’d met in the bar had never claimed to be Steven Colburn,
the man’s reticence had raised his suspicions. Cole. Colburn. The names were
similar. And he’d heard the overgrown cat telling Justine he was headed to
Farmingdale. A quick check had revealed that it was the hometown of Michael
Cooper, the man with whom Colburn had served in France. It was almost too much
of a coincidence to not mean something. He’d report his findings and let Malik
decide.

“Hello?” A woman’s sleepy voice answered, as if the phone had awoken her. Reno
remembered the time difference and swore softly under his breath.

“Umm...Tamara?”

“Yes. Who is this?”

“I’m Reno Smith. I work for Lycan Link as an Enforcer and was assigned to
helping your mate locate your son.”

“Oh yes, of course.” There was a rustling sound as if she were levering herself
up in bed. “I’d like to thank you for agreeing to help us. Do you have news?”

“I may have. Is Malik there?” Reno heard a car draw up outside the house, and
flicked a glance out the window. He smiled as he watched his mate removing bags
of groceries from the back seat; her rear end wiggled enticingly as she
stretched to gather her purchases and his body hardened in response. God, would
he ever get enough of her? His mind began to wander as he contemplated how they
might spend the evening, and only the sound of Malik’s voice drew him back to
the present.

“Smith,” Malik’s greeting was brief. “You’ve found out something.”

Reno watched his mate enter the house and then begin to pull containers of
Chinese food out, placing them on the table. He sniffed appreciatively and
tried to focus on his conversation with the panther monarch. “It’s possible.
Earlier today, I had an idea and asked our IT department to work on it. They
came up with a composite picture of what Steven might look like today, using a
combination of factors.”

“Interesting. Could you email it to me?”

“Sure, I’ll do that this evening. But, by some weird chance, I think I found
him.”

“So quick? It can’t be that easy, surely?”

“I agree it seems unlikely, but Brandi and I were going to eat at a local
hangout this evening. I arrived there early and I swear Steven Colburn was
there chatting up the barmaid.” Brandi came over and placed her hand on his
shoulder, her eyes narrowed as she obviously tried to determine what was going
on. “Malik, he says his name is Cole, and he’s heading for a place called
Farmingdale, in New York.”

“New York?” Excitement laced the man’s voice. “Good work. I’m heading back to
the States. I’ll contact you as soon as I’ve got an E.T.A. Thank you, Smith.
I’m in your debt.”

“Not yet, you’re not. Let’s make sure it’s him before you make your move. Come
here first. I’ll have one of the Lycan Link district offices do some discreet
inquiries, and then we can make our move.” Reno snaked his arm around his
mate’s waist and pulled her tight against his side.

“All right. If I blunder into Steven’s life unannounced it would probably do
more harm than good.”

“That’s what I was thinking. I’ll wait for your call and in the meantime see if
I can find out some more about this town he’s heading for.”

As the call ended, a smile crept over Reno’s face. He pressed a kiss to
Brandi’s lips and then picked her up and spun her around.

“What’s this all about?” She laughed and clutched at his shoulders.

“A celebration. I think the cat case is as good as over and then I can get back
to looking for Damien.” He kissed her again and loosened his hold so that she
slid down the length of his body. His groin was pressed against her soft belly
and he rumbled in pleasure when she wiggled against him and slowly drug her
nails down his back.

“If this is a celebration, I know what we can do.” She nipped at his chin and
took his hand, backing towards the bedroom.

Reno needed no further urging and, with a growl, swept her into his arms and
into the bedroom. The Chinese food, that had seemed so tempting before, was
quickly forgotten.


Cole pressed a kiss to Justine’s forehead and rolled away. She murmured softly
and trailed her fingers over his chest before letting her arm drop to the
mattress. He studied her for a moment. Her eyes were closed and already her
breathing was falling into the deep rhythmic pattern that signaled sleep.

Good.

By morning she’d likely have forgotten any...differences...she’d noticed about
him or put it down to the fogged memories of too much alcohol. After watching
her for a minute longer, he slipped out from under the covers, grabbed his
clothes and padded to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and wash up. She’d
insisted on the protection, and he hadn’t felt like explaining how and why he
knew he was disease free. She wouldn’t have believed him anyway.

Cole pulled on his jeans and reflected on the evening. Justine was a nice girl.
He’d enjoyed her company and their romp had relieved an itch, yet... He ran his
fingers through his hair and sighed. The restless feeling inside him wasn’t
gone. There had been too many anonymous women over the decades; too many bland
rooms, too many assumed identities. When had it lost its thrill? He couldn’t
even recall. All he knew was that he was ready to stay in one place for more
than a year or three, to put down some roots. He had always believed permanence
to be against a were panther’s nature. But lately, he had begun to think that
his nomadic life style was the source of his vague feeling of frustration.
That’s why he was going back to the only real home he’d ever known.

Gentle snoring sounds greeted him from the bed as he came out of the bathroom.
Justine, was sleeping, one arm stretched out over the place where he’d lain.
Quietly he walked over to the edge of the bed and pulled the covers over her.

“Goodbye Justine, and thank you.” He whispered the words and brushed a stray
curl from her cheek before letting himself out of her apartment into the cool,
clean night air.

Looking up at the sky, there were few stars to be seen. The town was small but
the light pollution was still bad enough to obscure the view. Rolling his
shoulders, he decided that after a good meal and decent sex, a long run was next
on the list. He needed to stretch his panther’s muscles.

He began to jog away from the buildings, out into the surrounding countryside.
Softly rolling hills covered in long grasses stretched as far as the eye could
see with only the occasional cluster of trees to interrupt the view. As the
glare of street lights dimmed, the inky blackness of the sky became speckled
with bright pinpricks of light.

Looking around to make sure he was indeed alone, Cole transformed. Shaking his
head, he snuffled the ground before him, before lifting his snout and sniffing
the air. Alone. The only scents were those of some small mammals and rodents.
He twitched his ears as he listened to the sound of them scurrying away from the
intrusion of his unfamiliar and dangerous cat persona.

Taking a giant leap, Cole began to run, feeling his muscles bunch and stretch
with each long stride. This was what he’d been missing. The wide open spaces
in North America. Europe was too crowded, too populated, with barely any place
for a panther to roam. In fact, the only other place he’d found comparable
freedom had been in the wilds of Russia. But this...this was home. As pleasure
surged through him, the urge to express his happiness came over him and he
didn’t try to hold it back. As the sound of a panther’s scream echoed over the
miles, he grinned. Tomorrow, he’d return the rental car and make the series of
jumps needed to reach the only home he’d ever known, and the old farmstead he’d
bought there.


Reno grunted at the incessant sound that buzzed in his ear. Damn it, couldn’t
Lycan Link leave him alone for one evening? He rolled over and reached for the
night table, fumbling to find his pager. With a sigh, he heaved himself up
against the headboard and checked the message. Hell. Several calls had come in
to the police, all claiming that a wild animal was screaming outside of town.
The police had dispatched a squad car, but Lycan Link wanted Reno to check it
out as well since he’d reported a panther shifter was in the area.

A growl erupted from his throat. No doubt Cole was prowling around the town.
Didn’t the shifter know better than to go sounding off so near to a human
settlement?

Throwing back the covers, Reno stormed across the room and began to pull on his
clothes. From the bed, he could hear the sounds of Brandi waking and then
sitting up.

“Reno? What’s going on?” She pushed her hair from her face and blinked at him
sleepily.

The sight of her creamy skin and naked breasts had Reno pausing in the middle of
zipping his pants. Memories of the passion they’d shared just hours ago,
flooded him. He recalled the feel of her hot mouth on him, his body trembling
with the need for release. The taste of her on his tongue. Her fingers
clenching his ass, the sound of her keening as he drove into her relentlessly
and pushed them both over the edge... For a moment, he almost forgot he was on
duty. With a sigh of regret, he continued dressing.

“That panther—Cole—might be causing trouble outside of town.”

“Do you need a DC along?” She moved to get up, but he shook his head.

“I’ll call you if I need you, but until I know what’s going on I don’t want you
around. Panthers are dangerous at the best of times and if this one is a
drifter, or worse yet a rogue, I don’t want you near him.” He shoved his shirt
tail into his waist band and pulled on his boots.

“Be careful. I don’t want you coming home whining and complaining and covered
in scratches.” Brandi’s voice was light but he sensed her concern and paused to
press a kiss to her forehead.

“Don’t worry. He’s just an overgrown house cat.”

As he left the room, he could hear her muttering. “Yeah, a house cat with ten
inch manicured nails.”


Reno parked his car near the edge of town and turned off the motor. As the area
plunged into darkness and the hum of the engine faded, he quietly stepped out
and concentrated on his surroundings. The air was cool and damp, promising rain
before morning. A slight wind ruffled his hair and the chirring of crickets met
his ears. There was nothing suspicious in the vicinity.

Taking a quick look to ensure there were no humans about, he shifted and let his
wolf come to the fore.

Time to go hunting for a kitty-cat, he told the beast.

Cat? The animal’s ears perked and a quiver of excitement passed over its body.
Since mating Brandi, the beast had been more manageable, but it still enjoyed a
chance to run free and hunting was a favorite activity.

Without another word, the wolf set off, nose to the ground searching for a scent
on the gravel strewn road. When one was found, the need to howl was almost
impossible to hold back. Senses on high alert, the beast followed the trail
down the seldom used track until it veered off across the prairie. The panther
was making no effort to hide its presence. A path of broken grass stems gave
clear evidence as to the direction it had taken. Most likely, the cat had given
no thought to the possibility that it would become the quarry.

The trail led for several miles, circling the town and then heading back towards
civilization. Finally, near the far side of town, Reno paused. The panther’s
scent was stronger than ever now. He narrowed his eyes and scanned the area.
There, near an abandoned barn, a large black creature was lounging in the
shadows.

Caught you, he thought to himself. Getting to his feet, he crept closer, his
belly low to the ground. The wind was in his favor, carrying his scent away
from the cat. Still, the creature somehow must have noticed his presence, for
it swiftly got to its feet and looked around with an air of suspicion.

Abandoning any attempt at subterfuge, Reno rose and stalked forward, his head
low, a warning growl rumbling in his chest. The cat curled its lip and showed a
set of impressive fangs.

Mere feet apart, Reno stopped and stared at the creature. Its tail slashed back
and forth showing its temper. He raised his hackles and stood his ground. The
cat was bigger than him, but he’d trained at the Academy and had more than one
trick up his sleeve. Slowly, he began to circle around studying the creature,
looking for any sign of weakness.

The panther was sleek and fit—a creature in its prime—with no sign of roguish
qualities. Clear green eyes studied him, intelligence apparent. Perhaps this
wasn’t a case of a rogue causing trouble; perhaps the man was just a careless
son of a bitch. Reno weighed his options, looked the creature directly in the
eye, and purposefully relaxed his aggressive stance.

After a moment the panther did as well and the tension, that had fairly crackled
in the air, dissipated. Of one accord they both shifted to human form.

“We meet again...’Cole.’” He purposely emphasized the man’s one name moniker.

“Much too soon, don’t you agree, Smith?”

Reno nodded. “What are you doing out here?”

“Taking a run. Is there a law against that?”

“No. Not as long as you’re discreet about it. The local police had some calls
about people hearing wild animal screams.”

Cole frowned. “And you know this because...?”

“As a precautionary measure, Lycan Link monitors all police communications.
When they heard this one, I was sent to investigate since I’d reported your
presence earlier in the day.”

“Such an efficient, little puppy dog you are. Someone should give you a doggie
treat.”

“And such a careless pussy cat you are. Someone should beat your ass for that
stupid stunt. Are you purposely trying to expose the shifter world? Or do you
just not give a rat’s ass what happens to us?”

Cole flicked his eyes away and then shrugged. “Sorry. I was enjoying a good
run and thought I was further from town than I was. I guess I didn’t realize
the sound would travel such a distance. It won’t happen again.”

Reno compressed his lips, and then nodded. “Fair enough. But I’m giving you
warning, you will behave while you’re in my territory or I’ll haul you into—”

Before Reno’s eyes, Cole suddenly dematerialized.

Reno shook his head and curled his hands into fists. “THAT DARN CAT!”


Two days later, Malik once again sat in Captain Fielding’s office, trying to
ignore the uncomfortable chair he was sitting on. Perhaps he should gift the
captain with a new set of chairs; something sleek and comfortable. It could be
a gesture of good will between their species. He studied the captain wondering
how he’d receive such an offering and opened his mouth to inquire when the
office door and Reno Smith entered the room.

Malik eyed the file in his hands, all thoughts of chairs—uncomfortable or
otherwise—fleeing as he anxiously awaited the news Reno was about to deliver.
That the panther—possibly his son—had left the area before his arrival pained
him no end, but at least they had a lead. That was better than they’d had two
weeks ago.

“Reno, you said you had news?” Fielding gestured for the Enforcer to sit and he
did so with less reluctance than the last time they’d met in the same office.

Placing the file on the desk, Reno nodded. “We’ve been checking out
Farmingdale; that’s the town I overheard the cat...er...panther shifter mention
while at Clancy’s. It’s a small town, in up-state New York; even with the
surrounding farms the population is only around twelve hundred. No major
tourist attractions or big business. Just local shops, farms and some
vineyards.”

Malik shook his head thoughtfully. “It doesn’t sound like the type of place a
young man of Cole’s age would be drawn to.”

“No, but it is where his friend, Michael Cooper was from.” Reno leaned forward.
“Brandi’s been speculating that perhaps your son might have returned there after
the First World War. Cooper had a family; perhaps Steven decided to look them
up.”

“But that was years ago. Why return now?” Fielding picked up the file and
scanned the contents.

Reno shrugged. “Nostalgia? Maybe he left some personal effects behind and
wants to check on them? Who knows?”

Malik nodded slowly. “Is there anything else?”

Fielding handed him a piece of paper. “Here’s a copy of a newspaper article
from the Farmingdale Gazette.”

“Attempted robbery at local gas station.” Malik read the title and then looked
at the other two men. “Are you saying my son might have done this?”

“No. Your son might have actually ‘saved the day.’” Reno’s face took on a
slightly disgruntled look as he spoke the words, and Malik wondered why. Had
the two had a disagreement?

“That’s correct.” Fielding pulled out another sheet of paper and handed it
over. “This is a copy of the police report. The perp was a small time thief
and drug addict named Kincaid. It states that Kincaid was high and delusional
at the time, claiming that he was attacked by a large black cat that appeared
out of nowhere.”

“A large black cat you say?” A smile crept across Malik’s face. “Then the
panther you met is most likely in the area and, given the other bits of
information—the similarity between Cole and Colburn, his appearance, his return
to that area—I’d say there’s a good chance you have managed to track down my son
and heir.”

Malik rose to his feet, feelings of relief and hope buoying his spirits. He
couldn’t wait to tell Tam the news. “Gentlemen, thank you for your assistance.
I believe the tables are turned and now I am indebted to you.”


Fielding stood up and extended his hand, inordinately pleased with how the case
had turned out. It had kept Reno busy for several days and, more importantly,
it had proven that panthers and wolves could work together. It was an excellent
precedent, and would look well in his monthly report to the High Council. He
cleared his throat and began the speech he’d had his personal assistant prepare
for him. It sounded pompous, but appropriate for concluding the case. “It was
our pleasure to share our resources and expertise while assisting a fellow
shifter. I hope this incident has laid the groundwork for improved relations
between—” He didn’t have a chance to finish the well-rehearsed spiel. Malik,
monarch of all were panthers, direct descendant of the goddess Bastet, had just
dematerialized from his office, leaving him with his hand extended towards empty
air!

The captain let his arm dropped to his side and looked at Reno. The Enforcer
was trying hard not to laugh but failing miserably.

“Go ahead, sir. Say it.”

Fielding compressed his lips and then shook his head. “THAT ... DARN ... CAT!”


End