Prey

I growled beneath my breath. Two months earlier, I would never have believed a thirteen-year-old could be harder to deal with than an infant. I guess that’s why nature starts most women off with babies and lets them grow into teenagers.

Jace took charge of my bag, and I gave him a quick hug. “How’s the leg?” he asked, eyeing me carefully when I pulled away.

“Just a little sore. But these make me look badass, huh?” I pushed back my sleeve to show off my new battle scars, and he whistled in appreciation, then laughed. “Where’s Ethan?” I asked, tugging my sleeve back into place.

Kaci grinned, pulling her MP3 player from her front pocket. “He’s trying to hook up with the girl at the Starbucks counter.”

I scowled. “Hook up with her?” I wasn’t sure whether I should be more bothered by Kaci’s too-casual phrasing, or my brother’s obvious disdain for the concept of monogamy. Guess he was getting tired of white rice.

Kaci nodded sagely. “Yeah, but I don’t think he’s really after coffee.”

Jace grinned sheepishly at me over her head, and I rolled my eyes. “Let’s go home. And no more hanging out with Ethan. You’re supposed to be under the supervision of your mental elders.”

We retrieved my brother from the food court, where he sat in front of a tall cup of something slathered with whipped cream, across from a girl in a green Starbucks apron. He grinned all the way to the car.

During the three-hour drive from the airport, Kaci fell asleep against the car door, her earbuds in place, blasting the latest teen-angst anthem. I watched her breathe, amazed by how peaceful she looked, all things considered.

Because Kaci Dillon had not led a peaceful life. Not even for a werecat.

Kaci wasn’t born into any Pride. In itself, that wasn’t incredibly unusual, as the ever-growing population of strays might suggest. But Kaci wasn’t a stray. She was a rare genetic anomaly—a werecat born to two human parents.

And so far, she was the only one of her kind we’d ever found.

We’d only known for about six months that, in spite of generations of belief to the contrary, it was indeed possible—if unlikely—for a werecat and a human to procreate. The children of such rare unions were humans whose DNA contained certain recessive werecat genes. Those genes would have no effect on the child unless they were one day “activated” by a bite or scratch from a werecat in cat form.

Normal humans can’t survive a werecat attack. Their bodies fight the “virus” and eventually they die of the infection. So all strays were once humans who already had the necessary werecat genes before they were attacked.

Kaci’s parents both carried those recessive genes, though they never knew it. Their unlikely pairing resulted in one daughter who didn’t inherit any werecat genes. And in Kaci, who got them from both sides. She was a full-blooded werecat, born of two humans, and she’d had no idea until puberty brought on her first Shift.

I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. So much unexplainable pain and an unfathomable transformation. In the height of her pain and terror, completely ignorant of what was happening to her, she accidentally killed her mother and sister. And in the process, she’d temporarily lost most of her sanity.

Kaci had wandered on her own for weeks, stuck in cat form because she had no idea she could Shift back, much less how to do it. She did what she had to do to survive, mostly out of instinct, but when we found her and showed her how to regain her human form—and with it, her sanity—she was horrified by what she’d done on four paws.

So horrified that she’d sworn never to assume her feline form again, convinced that if she did, she would hurt someone else.

But by refusing to Shift, she was only hurting herself.

Watching her sleep, I was shocked to realize Kaci was nearly as thin now as she’d been when I first saw her. She was slowly killing herself, and I had to do something to stop it. To help her help herself.

It was nearly four in the afternoon when we pulled through the gate onto the long gravel driveway leading onto my family’s property. The Lazy S ranch lay before us, winter-bare fields on both sides of the driveway. Deep tire ruts cut into the eastern field at an angle, leading to the big red barn, quaint with its gabled roof and chipped paint. And at the end of the driveway lay the house, long and low and simple in design, in contrast to the buildings my father designed in his professional life.

Jace parked behind Ethan’s car in the circular driveway, and the guys disappeared into the guesthouse, where my brother Owen was setting up a Rock Band tournament.

I grabbed my bag and headed for my room, not surprised when Kaci followed me. My mother had fixed up the bedroom Michael and Ryan once shared for her, but the tabby did little more than sleep there. She spent most of her time shadowing me, convinced that if she could learn to fight well enough in human form, she’d never have to Shift again. And no matter what I did or said, I couldn’t convince her otherwise.

In my room, I dropped my duffel on the bed, and Kaci plopped down next to it on her stomach, her legs bent at the knee, feet dangling over the backs of her thighs. “Hey, you wanna go see a movie tonight? Parker gave me twenty bucks to vacuum the guesthouse a couple of days ago, and I’ve barely been off the ranch all week.”

Groaning, I unzipped the bag and pulled my shampoo and conditioner from an inside pocket. “Kaci, don’t clean for the guys! They’re perfectly capable of picking up their own messes, but if you act like a maid, they’ll treat you like one.”

She frowned, her feelings hurt by my reproach, and I cursed myself silently. It should not be so hard for me to talk to one little girl. But then, I’d never expected to be someone’s mentor. Hell, I’d probably never even be anyone’s aunt.

I grinned to lighten the mood and took another shot. “Besides, if you feel like vacuuming, there are plenty of perfectly good floors in the main house. Like mine, for instance.” I made a sweeping gesture at my beige Berber carpet, which could certainly use the attention.

Kaci laughed, and all was well. “So, what about the movie? You buy the tickets, and I’ll buy the popcorn.”

I walked backward toward the bathroom, hair products in hand. “It’s a school night.”

She swirled one finger along the stitches in my comforter. “I don’t go to school.”

“You could….” I left that possibility dangling and turned into my private bathroom, the only real advantage to being the sole daughter out of five children. Kaci pouted at me through the open doorway as I set the shampoo and conditioner on the edge of the tub. “You know how to make that happen.”

The original plan had been for Kaci to start eighth grade in Lufkin, at the beginning of the second semester. My father had acquired the necessary documentation—birth certificate and shot records under the name Karli Sanders—and she would be his niece, recently orphaned and left to our care. She’d picked out a new haircut and color—long, dark layers—and we were relatively sure that with those precautions taken, no one would ever connect Karli Sanders with Kaci Dillon, who’d disappeared from her home in southern British Columbia during an attack by a pack of wild animals.

Of course, it helped that Kaci’s family was no longer looking for her. She was presumed dead in the same attack that had killed her mother and sister. Her father had erected a memorial headstone for her months earlier, and by all accounts seemed to be trying to come to terms with his loss and grief.

But in the end, none of that mattered because by the time the spring semester had started a week earlier, Kaci was too weak to go. She got winded just walking to the barn, and took several naps a day. Her skin was pale and sometimes clammy, and she got constant migraines and occasional bouts of nausea.

She couldn’t go to school until she’d Shifted and regained her strength. Until then, my mother was homeschooling her in the core subjects.

Neither of them was enjoying it.

“I can’t do it.” Kaci’s frown deepened as she rolled onto her back to stare at my ceiling, rubbing her forehead to fend off another headache.

“Yes, you can. I can help.” I went back to the bag for my toiletry pouch and hair dryer, still talking as I set them on the bathroom counter. “Dr. Carver says that once you’re Shifting regularly, you’ll get better very quickly. Then you can go to school like a normal kid.”

“Normal!” She huffed and rolled her head to the side to meet my gaze. “What the hell is that?”

I groaned at her language. How the hell had she managed to pick up all of my bad habits and none of my good ones? “You know you can’t talk like that in front of the Alpha, right?”

Kaci rolled both big hazel eyes at me. “You do.”

Damn it!

From somewhere near the front of the house, my mother laughed out loud, having obviously heard the entire exchange. She’d always said she hoped I had a kid just like me, but neither of us had expected that to happen quite so soon.

But Kaci was right, of course. I sank onto the bed with a frustrated sigh, and she rolled onto her side to look at me, her face in one hand, her elbow spearing the comforter. “Kaci, you do not want to model your life in this Pride after mine. A smart girl would learn from a few of my mistakes, instead of choosing to repeat them all just for the experience.”

She frowned and stared down at the comfortor. “My dad didn’t let me cuss, either.”

My heart jumped into my throat. Kaci hardly ever mentioned her father, or anything else from her previous existence, as if it were easier not to talk or even think about them. Though I understood that, I also knew that ignoring her problems wasn’t the healthiest way to deal with them.

But before I could encourage her to go on, she changed the subject with a sudden shake of her head. “Besides, you look like you’re doin’ okay to me.”

“But you could do better. You could do anything you want. Starting with public school.”

Kaci sighed and flopped back over to stare at the ceiling, her hands folded across her stomach. But I could see wistfulness in her eyes. She wanted to go to school, no matter what she said to the contrary. I’d been in her position—aside from the whole refusing-to-Shift thing—and knew exactly how badly it sucked to be stuck in one place, under constant, nagging supervision.

At the end of the bed again, I dug in the duffel and pulled out my bloody, ruined jeans, tied up in a white plastic Wal-Mart sack.

“What’s that smell?” Kaci rolled onto her stomach and sniffed the air with a spark of interest as I dropped the bundle on the floor. That night I would have to fire up the industrial incinerator behind the barn and toss the whole mess inside.

Hmm. I wonder if it’s still hot from the recent mass cremation….

“You’re probably smelling the stray who slashed through my jeans,” I said, glancing at the bag in irritation. “That was my favorite pair.”

“No, that’s not it.” She stuck her nose into my duffel and sniffed dramatically, and when she rose, the zipper pulled several strands of thick brown hair free from her ponytail to hang over her cheeks. “It’s Marc.” She shoved the loose strands back from her face. “Your underwear smells like Marc!”

I flushed and pulled my bag off the bed. When I was thirteen, there was no older woman around for me to ask about guys, other than my mother. And I wouldn’t have asked her about sex if the future of the species depended upon my understanding of the process.

Which, according to my mother, it did.

Caught off guard by the questions I could practically feel her forming, I crossed the room to upend the rest of the duffel into my regular hamper, a purple ribbon-trimmed wicker thing my mother had put in my room when I was twelve.

I stared at the hamper critically, suddenly perplexed by its presence. What kind of enforcer’s hamper has ribbons threaded through it? I needed something else. Something utilitarian. Something big and sturdy, and not at odds with the blood- and sweat-stained clothes it would be holding.

Like, a big metal trash can. Or a barrel.

I turned toward Kaci, intending to ask her if she wanted the girlie hamper, but she was already talking before I could get the question out. “So, how long have you been with Marc?”

“Um…we were together for my last two years of high school, then we broke up for about five years. And we got back together last summer.”

“Why did you break up?”

Because I’m an idiot. I tossed my empty duffel into my closet and kicked the door shut. “It’s complicated, Kaci. Things get weird when you grow up. Enjoy being a kid while you can.”

“Whatever.” She rolled onto her back again. “Being a kid sucks. People tell you when to get up, when to go to bed, when to eat, what not to wear…”

I glanced up from my dresser, onto which I’d been emptying my jeans pockets, to see her watching me in obvious—and incredibly misplaced—envy. “Have you met my parents? In case you haven’t noticed, they still tell me what to do. All the time.”

“Yeah, well, at least you get paid for it.”

“Not this year.” Enforcers drew a small salary, in addition to free room and board. But as part of the “community service” sentence handed down to me from the tribunal in November, in addition to teaching my fellow enforcers to do the partial Shift, I had to forgo my salary for an entire year. All I had now was what little money I’d saved since college and the business credit card all my father’s enforcers had. And that could only be used for official enforcer business. Which apparently did not include a pint of New York Super Fudge Chunk. Or a trip to Starbucks.

Oops.

“You love Marc, don’t you?” In the mirror, Kaci’s reflection stared at me, one cheek pressed into the comforter.

Surprised, I turned from the dresser to find her watching me in undisguised curiosity, as if my life served no other purpose than to entertain her. Yet I wasn’t irritated, as I would no doubt have been if my mother were the one interrogating me, because Kaci had no ulterior motive. She wasn’t trying to talk me into anything, or manipulate me. She just wanted to know… everything.

Sighing, I crossed my bedroom and sat facing her on the bed, my legs folded beneath me, yoga style. “Do I love Marc?” I repeated, and she nodded, sitting up with her back against my headboard. I pulled my fluffy pink punching pillow into my lap—if I was going to voluntarily engage in girl talk, I might as well be properly armed.

“Yes, I love Marc.” So much that it hurts not to see and touch him every day.

“What about Jace?”

My chest tightened, and my heart seemed to be trying to beat its way free. “What about him?”

“He likes you. Like Marc likes you.”

“What makes you think that?” I gave her my best blank face.

“He watches you. All the time. If you need something, he brings it to you. And when he looks at you, his heart beats really hard. I can hear it.” She smiled slyly, and her big hazel eyes glinted. “Like yours is doing right now.”

Damn it. I resisted the urge to close my eyes, or otherwise betray my frustration, which she would probably notice, like she had my heartbeat. “Kaci, that’s really… complicated.”

“Because you don’t like him like that?” Bald hope flooded Kaci’s features, and suddenly I understood. This wasn’t about me and Marc. It was about Jace.

Kaci had a crush on Jace.

Oh, shit.

An interest in boys was a nice, normal development for a girl her age, and might go a long way toward convincing her to Shift, so she’d be healthy enough to start dating—with several huge, protective chaperones. But Jace was nearly twenty-five, and Kaci was only thirteen. She needed a boy her own age to crush on.

Yet another reason to get her enrolled in school.

But as for her actual question… “Kaci, I’m with Marc.”

“So, Jace is single, right?”

Kaci frowned again and glanced at my open bedroom door. Then she turned back to me, and when she spoke, her voice was a barely audible whisper. “How old were you when you and Marc first…”

Mayday, mayday!

Alarms went off in my head, and my eyes snapped shut in denial. I was not ready to have this conversation with Kaci. And somehow we were back to her looking at my life as a blueprint for her own. I didn’t want that kind of responsibility! I wanted the freedom to mess up and know that my mistakes wouldn’t screw up anyone’s life but my own.

Unfortunately, I’d kind of given up that privilege when I became an enforcer.

“Whoa, Kaci, back up a bit.” I shook my head and made myself meet her frank gaze. “You’re waaaay too young to be thinking about sex.”

She rolled her eyes, and the gesture was eerily familiar from my own adolescence. Okay, also from what little of my adulthood I’d survived so far.

“I was talking about kissing,” Kaci said, in that exasperated tone she usually saved for my mother, during homeschooling. “I just meant, how old were you when you first kissed Marc? But since you brought up sex…” Her eyes glinted with a spark of mischief. “Same question.”

Damn it! “Way older than you are.” My head was throbbing and pain was shooting through my chest. I was having a panic attack. The little whelp was giving me an aneurism!

I was a firm believer in telling the truth, but some of my truths weren’t suitable for such young ears, and I did not want to screw up someone else’s kid!

I had to redirect. Change the subject. Turn the conversation back onto her before my mother decided to step in. But Kaci was still talking…

“Was it your idea, or his?”

Oh, shit. But she wasn’t done yet.

“Does it hurt? ‘Cause I heard…”

Okay, this has to stop.

I threw up one hand, palm facing her, in the universal sign for halt! Then I took a deep breath and glanced at the open door again, this time thinking of escape, rather than of being overheard. But that was the coward’s way out. If I could stand against multiple strays in cat form, wielding only a shovel, surely I could face a single thirteen-year-old and her birds-and-bees inquisition.

And, if not, I could procrastinate with the best of them.

“You’re throwing an awful lot of questions at me all at once, Kaci. And asking for a lot of very personal information.”

Her face fell, and she tugged aimlessly at the frayed cuff of her jeans. “You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

I sighed. Answering her questions—at least some of them—might go a long way toward getting her to truly trust me. Which might help me convince her to Shift. But no true compromise was one-sided. “I tell you what. I will answer three of your questions—any three you want…”

Her eyes lit up in expectation.

“…after you Shift.”

Kaci scowled. Then she stood, more color draining from her already pale face, and stomped across my room and through the open doorway.

“I take it that’s a no?” I called after her.

She slammed her bedroom door in reply, and I flinched.

Well, that went well…

Seven

“Again!” Ethan wrapped both bare arms around the heavy punching bag to steady it, and I shot him a look meant to scorch him from the inside out. Or at least to shut him up. “Harder this time. And a little higher. Hit his knee from the side, and he’ll go down. Then it’s all over but the beatin’.”

“He doesn’t have knees,” I snapped, wiping sweat from my forehead with an equally sweaty forearm. There was a clean, dry towel hanging over a folding chair near the bathroom, but I was too tired to cross the basement for it. “He doesn’t even have legs.”

“Oh, you got jokes?” Ethan grinned amiably, his green eyes flashing in challenge. He dropped his arms, then stepped around the bag, his sneakers sinking into the thick blue mat with each step. “If you’ve got energy to be funny, we’re not working you hard enough. Right, Kaci?”

“Right.” The young tabby tucked her legs up onto her folding metal chair and sipped from a covered mug filled with hot chocolate. Then she grinned at me and set her drink back on the bench press serving as an end table. The night before, she’d officially forgiven me for pushing the Shifting issue so hard. Still, she didn’t seem to mind watching Ethan kick my ass….

Little traitor.

Our basement was unheated, but was naturally insulated by the earth surrounding it, so the slight chill seeping in from the high windows was no problem for me or Ethan. After only half an hour of moderate lifting, he and I were both covered in sweat, even wearing only light workout clothes. In fact, he’d shed his shirt several minutes earlier.

But Kaci shivered beneath long sleeves, jeans, and a light blanket. She didn’t have enough energy to exercise with us, and she lacked the body fat to keep herself warm, but no amount of begging, coercing, or threatening on our part could convince her to go back upstairs, where my mother waited with more cocoa and an algebra textbook.

I could probably have made her go up, but I’d decided not to push the issue because she was still mad at me over the unanswered sex questions. Besides, we’d be heading up for lunch soon anyway.

“You’re not working me at all.” I reached up to catch the towel Ethan tossed me. “You’re practicing with me, not on me. Or do you need another reminder?”

“What I need is an actual challenge, smart-ass.” Ethan winked at Kaci, who grinned, enjoying our banter. “Think you can manage that?”

“Oh, you’re asking for it n—” Before I could finish the sentence, Ethan charged.

I lunged to the right, but I was too slow. His shoulder clipped my arm, knocking me off balance. I hit the thick pad on my hip and rolled out of the way. He slammed into the mat where I’d been, but I was already on my feet.

I dropped onto his back and planted my knee in his spine. Ethan howled and bucked. I straddled him for stability. My hand closed around his flailing right arm and I dug in the pocket of my workout pants for my cuffs.

Ethan’s left hand brushed my leg, then closed around the back of my knee. He tugged me forward. I leaned back to counter and snapped one cuff over his right wrist. He pulled harder, and I slid onto the mat with my left leg folded beneath me.

My brother tossed his weight over me, and we rolled. His elbow hit my ribs. His skull slammed into my right cheekbone, but I held on to my cuffs. Dizzy now, I stuck one knee out to halt our roll. We stopped with him facedown, me straddling his back again, and this time I didn’t hesitate. I pulled his left arm back and snapped the other cuff closed over his wrist.

Then I stood and backed away, waiting for the sparks. Waiting to gloat as he ranted and raged, demanding to be let loose.

Instead he shook with laughter.

I stared at Ethan for a moment, a little disappointed, then turned when I heard Kaci giggling behind me. “That was awesome!” she yelled, on her feet now, the cocoa forgotten.

“I agree.” Ethan’s words were muffled with half of his face pressed into the mat, and I turned to find him watching me, now lying on his right shoulder. “That was damned impressive.” He smiled, looking almost as pleased as he would have been had our positions been reversed. “But let’s not tell anyone, ‘kay? We’ll keep this a private victory, just between the three of us.”

“No way!” Kaci shouted, grinning so hard her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Or maybe with the cold. “Faythe owns you! I wish I had a camera. Wait till Jace—”