Wild Card

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by Rachel Vincent


  “Kaci!” I called again. “I know you’re out here! We have to go!”

  Something moved in the trees above me, and I looked up to find her staring down at me through a familiar set of hazel eyes, more green than brown in cat form.

  Relief flooded me, and a little of the tension in my chest eased as she worked her way down from the tree, purring softly. “Come on. Jared’s trying to fend off some do-gooders who saw the crash, and I’m sure the cops are on the way. We need to get out of here.”

  Her head bobbed, then she suddenly leaped gracefully onto the ground at my feet with a soft thump.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, and she rubbed her cheek against my calf. That was more of an affectionate greeting in cat-speak than an actual answer, but I’d take it, for the moment.

  “I missed you too.” I scrubbed the fur between her ears, more like you’d pet a puppy than a one-hundred-ten-pound cat, but I wasn’t sure how else to express physical comfort when I was in human form and she was not. “If this is what happens when I let you out of my sight, you can bet that’ll never happen again.”

  She rubbed the entire length of her body against my left leg, then made her way back up my right, evidently telling me that she was fine with that plan.

  “Let’s go.” I threw her clothes over my arm and led the way toward the rental, careful to keep an eye on her as we picked our way through the thin foliage, because in addition to a cut on her left front leg, there was a shiny patch of still-wet blood on her head, above her right eye. Though it wasn’t bleeding as badly as the laceration, it could actually be the worse of the two wounds.

  “I’ve got your stuff in the car.” I kept up a dialogue as we walked, trying to think of everything she would probably be asking me, if she had the use of her human tongue. “Your phone’s fine; just a little scratched up from hitting the concrete. And we’ll get you some food as soon as we can. I’m sure you’re starving after your shift.”

  She stiffened a little at that, and too late, I realized that post-shift food was probably a touchy subject for a cat whose peers called her a man-eater.

  Bastards.

  “I parked as far from the wreck as I could, to keep us from being seen. Jared’s hurt, but still capable of causing trouble,” I said, and her snort in reply sounded distinctly curious. “His leg was pinned between the steering wheel and his seat when I got to him, and I think I dislocated his knee pulling him out of the car.”

  Every few steps, she paused to lick her injured leg, and I remembered what Vic had told me about cat-form saliva helping to keep wounds clean. And according to Dr. Carver, it would also promote the growth of new skin cells, which helped animals’ wounds heal faster than humans’ wounds.

  Though nothing would be as good as stitches, some antibiotic cream, and a big bandage, once we got far enough away from Jared that it would be safe to stop for first aid.

  “You okay?” I asked when she stopped for the millionth time to lick her wound. She bobbed her head at me, but she looked a little woozy, so I picked up the pace, worried that her concussion would lead to her collapse before we made it to the car.

  If that happened, I would damn well carry her.

  We stepped out of the woods just feet from where I’d parked the rental, and I opened the back door for her. She climbed into the bench seat and gave the upholstery a regretful look, considering the blood and dirt she was covered in. Then she noticed the fist-sized dent in the dashboard.

  “Yeah, I got a little frustrated earlier,” I admitted. “I really should have bought insurance when I rented the car…”

  She huffed in amusement.

  I slid into the driver’s seat and looked back at her. “You rest, but try not to fall asleep until I’ve had a chance to look at your head wound. I’m going to get us out of here, and as soon as it’s safe, I’ll stop for food.”

  As I pulled onto the highway, headed deeper into the free zone and away from the Southwest territory, she sat up on the rear floorboard, holding her head just high enough for a glimpse of Jared and the wreck she’d caused as the first police car pulled to a stop along the side of the road, his lights flashing bright blue and red. As we passed, I waved to Jared, who was sitting in the back of an ambulance, his left leg splinted beneath jeans cut open to his thigh, while an EMT examined the wound on his head.

  Then I took off to the east at five miles over the speed limit, before anyone could notice the big black cat riding in the back of my car.

  A few minutes into the drive, I realized Kaci’s breathing had grown slow and even. I tilted the rearview mirror down until I could see her, stretched across the floorboard in spite of the hump pressed against her midsection. I hadn’t meant to let her go to sleep with a concussion, but as long as I could hear her breathing, I figured she was probably okay. And she was clearly exhausted.

  A couple of minutes after that, I remembered to call Marc back. He answered before I even heard the phone ring. “Please tell me you have her.”

  “I have her. But only because she made Jared wreck the car. She’s got a gash on her left front leg and another one on her forehead, but she seems okay, other than that. She’s asleep in the back seat.”

  “And Jared?”

  “When we pulled away from the scene of the crash, he was being treated by EMTs and the cops were pulling up. He’s going to have to think quick to explain the plexiglass barricade he rigged up in the back of his car, and all the blood on the rear windshield.”

  “How much blood? Is she still bleeding?”

  “I think so. I was going to stop for some first aid supplies as soon as I find a pharmacy.”

  “Wait until you get out Nevada, if you think you can,” Marc said. “Then I want you to head back to St. George, rent a room at a different hotel, lock the door, and wait for Vic and Chris. They’re still on their way from Phoenix. I don’t want the two of you traveling by yourselves after this. You shouldn’t have been in the first place.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “Tell that to Kaci, when she wakes up. And to Faythe, when you get back.”

  That, I was not looking forward to.

  “Okay. I’ll call you back with an address when we’re settled in somewhere.”

  “Take care of her, Justus. Everyone else may be judging you for what you did in Mississippi, but everyone who matters will be judging you on what you do now.”

  “Understood.”

  “And by the way, you’re fired.”

  No longer an enforcer. I’d known that was coming, yet the words stung more than I’d expected.

  As soon as we crossed back into Arizona, I began searching for a pharmacy, but because our route would only take us across the tip of the northwest corner of the state, I didn’t find any good place to stop until we’d made it into Utah, and all the way back to St. George. And I have to admit that as I drove past the same small town I’d raced through that morning in search of Kaci, I felt like we were now farther than ever from our forever island.

  Not that that would ever happen now. The safest place for Kaci was with her family. I should never have taken her off the ranch.

  The GPS on my phone led me to a pharmacy a couple of minutes from the highway, and I parked at the back of the lot, hoping no one would get close enough to see the giant, sleeping cat in the back of my car. Then I rushed through the store and came out with food, a case of bottled water, a case of soda, over-the-counter pain killers, antibiotic cream, a light blanket, and every kind of bandage I could find.

  Kaci was still asleep when I got to the car, and when I was sure she was actually breathing, I pulled onto the street, then into the first decent-looking motel I found. Though I’m fundamentally opposed to the very concept of a motel, I couldn’t very well sneak a big cat up the elevator and down the halls of a hotel.

  “Hey.” In a parking space at the back of the lot, I twisted in my seat to stroke her head gently. “Wake up, Kaci.”

  She blinked hazel cat eyes at me, her pupils
round like a lion’s, rather than pointed like a house cat’s. She started to sit up, but I shook my head.

  “Stay down. We’re back in St. George, at a hotel. I have to go get us a room, but I don’t want to leave you here without telling you where I’m going.” She nodded, and I pulled the new blanket from the pharmacy bag on the front seat. “I’m going to cover you with this, and I want you to just stay hidden until I get back, okay?” I shook the blanket out, and she nodded again. Then she laid down, folding her paws beneath her head on the hump in the center of the floorboard. Which was already grimy with blood and dirt.

  “Okay I’ll be right back.” I covered her, then got out of the car and locked it.

  I requested a room on the first floor, at the back, which probably made the clerk immediately suspicious. But my platinum card seemed to smooth that over, and since we were no longer on the run from both my Alphas and my brother, there was no reason not to use the card.

  The clerk gave me two keys, and I parked as close as I could get to our room. Then I unlocked the door, did a cursory exam to make sure the room was acceptable, and threw the bolt over with the door open, to keep it from closing while I went back for Kaci.

  When I was sure the parking lot was empty and no one was watching from any of the motel room windows, I opened the back door of the car and escorted Kaci into the room. I went back out for our luggage and the pharmacy bags, and when I returned, I found her in the tub, shifting back into human form.

  While she finished her shift, I called Marc and gave him our motel information, for him to pass along to Vic and Chris. “How’s she doing?” he asked.

  “She’s shifting back. I’ll be able to ask her in a minute. I got food and first aid supplies, so we’re going to get her cleaned up, then eat and rest while we wait for the guys.”

  “Justus? I’m going to take a shower,” Kaci called from the bathroom.

  “I heard that,” Marc said over the phone. “Tell her to take a bath instead, until you’re sure she won’t faint from blood loss or the concussion. Help her if she needs it. And do not take advantage.”

  “I would never,” I growled, beyond caring whether or not that would be considered rude to an Alpha.

  Marc actually chuckled. “I believe you. But I have to say it. She’s like my daughter.”

  “She’s like my wife,” I shot back, irritation building inside me.

  “No,” he said. “She’s not. She’s like a teenager who made a stupid mistake.”

  “I—”

  “Shut up and listen,” he snapped. “Faythe and I are not going to try to separate the two of you, because we know that will only make you cling to each other harder, and because no matter what you think, we don’t believe in thwarting young love. But we do believe Kaci’s too young to get married.”

  “Didn’t you try to marry Faythe when she was eighteen?” I probably should have reassessed my confrontational tone, but he had no right to an opinion on my marriage—new though it was.

  “Yes, and that was a mistake, and I paid for it for the next six years.”

  “It was Faythe’s decision not to marry you then. Just like it was Kaci’s decision to marry me two days ago,” I growled.

  “Agreed. But I suspect there’s a reason this hasn’t yet been…consummated. Don’t you?”

  I let silence answer for me.

  “Good. Now take care of her as if she’s the most important thing in the world—”

  “She is.”

  “—but do not start thinking of her as yours, in any sense of the word.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Marc’s pointed silence on the other end of the line reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to use profanity when speaking to an Alpha. Oops. “Justus, I’m going to give you some advice,” he said at last. “Because as new as you are to the biological demands and hormonal impulses of a Shifter, you’re even newer to the realities of our society, and the point where those two aspects converge is particularly difficult to navigate for a man in your position.”

  I sank onto the side of the hotel bed, still listening with one ear for any sounds of distress from the bathroom. “What point of convergence would that be?”

  “The point at which an adopted stray falls in love with a tabby. I may be the only man in the world who understands exactly what you’re going through right now. Those conflicting impulses. That irrational anger when someone who outranks you gives you an order. That consuming drive to protect her from any- and everyone—even the other people who love her. Even if she doesn’t need your protection.”

  “Titus has been in my position.”

  “In love with a tabby, yes. But an adopted stray? No. When your brother fell for Robyn, there was no one around who outranked him. There was no other authority to rankle his fur.”

  “What the—” I bit off the profanity with a roll of my eyes. That was a stupid rule. “What are you talking about?”

  “From a hormonal, instinctive perspective, falling for a tabby makes a tom feel like he’s above the rules. Like no one else has any right to tell him what to do. That’s because historically, all the way back to our cave-dwelling ancestors, the tom who gets the girl rules the whole Pride. Kaci has accepted your advances, at least on some level. Your hormones are preparing you to…well, to take over. To become an Alpha. But your hormones are writing a check your body can’t cash.”

  “All I want is to be with Kaci. I don’t care about being an Alpha. That’s literally never occurred to me.” I didn’t even know if I was going to be alive in a week.

  “Yes. I’m sure that consciously, that’s true. But beneath that, on a primal level, your body chemistry is pushing you to reject authority. To become the authority, in order to establish the strength that would have historically been necessary to protect your family. To gather a Pride around you, to help you protect that family. Times have changed. As a society, we’ve learned to listen to our human halves over our feline halves in matters of gender equality—though admittedly, the women learned that faster than most of the men. Hell, some of the men still haven’t caught on. In part, that’s because our hormones haven’t progressed as fast as our brains.”

  “If you’re worried that I’m going to try to get Kaci pregnant or challenge you or something—”

  “No.” Marc sighed over the phone, and I realized this wasn’t any easier for him to say than it was for me to hear. “I think your head will prevail in those particular areas. Though in case I’m wrong, let me take this opportunity to remind you that I will end you if you fuck this up.”

  “Noted. If that’s not the problem, what are you worried about?”

  “That instinct to argue. To shrug off orders. To do things your way. You lack the experience to make those calls, no matter what your body is telling you. That could get Kaci hurt. That could get both of you killed. So, when Vic and Chris arrive, I expect you to remember that they outrank you, and they have Kaci’s wellbeing in mind just as much as you do.”

  I found that last bit hard to believe. No one cared about Kaci like I did. No one was better prepared or more determined to protect her.

  Wait, what?

  The very strength of that thought made me wonder if Marc might actually have a point…

  “Is it always like this?” I whispered into the phone, suddenly conscious of the fact that Kaci might be able to hear the whole conversation, though the bathroom door. “You’re saying every tom who falls in love with a tabby goes through this?”

  “No. Just the ones whose advances are accepted or encouraged. Jace went through this when he and Faythe were…a thing. But Brian didn’t, back when he was engaged to Abby, which should have clued all of us in to the fact that their relationship wasn’t going to work out. But all of the others—the natural-born toms—know how to deal with this. They grow up expecting it. The only exception I know of is Owen. He’s shown no Alpha tendencies, even though he’s been with Manx for years. But I suspect they’re the exception that
proves the rule.”

  The sound of running water came from the bathroom. “I have to go. Kaci’s starting the shower.”

  “Okay. Don’t forget to call me with updates.”

  The unnecessary reminder from Marc rubbed me the wrong way, and the realization that my reaction was likely hormonal in nature only further irritated me. I didn’t like being manipulated by anything—even my own body. “I won’t.”

  “Hey Justus, before you go…”

  “Yeah?” I stood, already heading for the bathroom.

  “There is a bright side to what’s happening between you and Kaci.”

  Other than his unintentional confirmation that Kaci evidently felt something real for me? “What’s that?”

  “If your connection with her is strong enough to have triggered a hormonal reaction, then there is truly nothing in the world you wouldn’t do to keep her safe. Even if that means putting yourself in danger.”

  I huffed into the phone. “I could have told you that without this entire, weird discussion, Marc.”

  “Yes.” He chuckled. “But now I can actually believe it.”

  Fifteen

  Kaci

  “Hey.” Justus knocked on the door just as the shower was starting to warm up. “Marc says you should take a bath, until we’re sure you won’t pass out from blood loss.”

  I’m not going to…

  Although I did feel a little unsteady. “Damn it. Okay.” I flipped the lever in the tub, and the shower spray became a deluge from the faucet. But even when I flipped the other lever for the stopper, water seemed to be draining out of the tub. “Shit.”

  “Do you need help?” Justus called, and I jumped. I hadn’t realized he was waiting by the door.

  Did I need help? Bathing? From the gorgeous guy whose mouth was like candy and whose touch made me want to tackle him and rip his clothes off with my teeth?

 

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