Puma

by Jorrie Spencer

  “I have noticed he cooks. Does that mean no one else can?”

  “Dev cooks,” Ruth repeated in that newly disturbing way of hers. “Not me.” At Callie’s expression, she added, “That’s what Scott likes.”

  “Uh-huh. Well, I happen to think that Scott will like me to cook.” Callie started pulling out vegetables for a salad. Salads she could handle. Wash and cut, and Dev had stocked up on salad dressing.

  Ruth came up beside her. “Come on, Callie. Don’t cause problems.”

  Callie rose from her crouch, brandishing a cucumber. “Why is making salad a problem? I mean I appreciate that Dev is such a good caretaker, but can’t we help him out?”

  “It’s the way things are done here. Routine is important.” This last bit was stated with a strange intensity.

  Callie eyed her disquieting little sister. “Yeah? Are you quoting someone there, Ruth?”

  “No. It’s just the truth. As you know.”

  Truth? What the fuck? With a sharp shake of her head, Callie gave up talking. Apparently they weren’t supposed to talk anyway and given how the conversations went—they gave her a headache—she was beginning to see why. She made her salad though, despite Ruth’s occasional noises of distress.

  When she was done, Dev came into the kitchen. He looked wiped out, as if he’d been working long, weary hours at a high-stress job. If Callie had known him better she would be concerned. But Callie didn’t get concerned about human males like this one who didn’t want her around. Even if he had gorgeous eyes.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded of her.

  She waited, no longer willing to argue with these two unsettling creatures. God, she missed Trey who was the most practical-minded person she had ever met and who made sense.

  “You can still make the main dish, Dev,” Ruth put in quickly, her tone appeasing. “Callie only tossed a salad. Only to be helpful.” Her words seemed to reassure Dev, and Callie found she hadn’t the heart to try to make something else for dinner in case that unnerved one or both them even further.

  So she stepped away from the kitchen and Dev took over cooking.

  They ate supper in silence. Madison appeared to find this typical. Ruth was rather blank faced, but perhaps that was the new normal. The official cook had made some tasty Indian food, which didn’t exactly go with salad and ranch dressing, but no one seemed to care. Dev glowered while he ate though Callie didn’t know who or what had made him angry this time. Finally her sister felt compelled to speak, perhaps because Callie, having given up on the conversation front, had said next to nothing.

  “Dev’s from India!” This from Ruth.

  Dev slowly lifted his gaze from his plate. “I was actually born here, Ruth.”

  “You know what I mean.” Ruth rolled her eyes and mouthed “very sensitive” to Callie.

  Callie didn’t know about sensitive but supposed she should have known Dev was an Indian name. She didn’t pay much attention to heritage, given she had only the haziest memories of her mother and no idea where she came from. One of her foster parents had decided her amber eyes were from Brazil.

  “The food is very good,” Callie offered, trying to catch Dev’s eye. He gave a curt nod, as if praise was uncalled for, almost ridiculous. “Thank you. It’s kind of you—”

  “Dev doesn’t mind,” Ruth cut in.

  Okay, why was Ruth speaking for Dev now? It was so odd to see this man looking after her sister. Callie didn’t know what to think of it. Fortunately Dev wasn’t made resentful by Ruth’s remark, though his expression did turn wry.

  “Good thing, I guess.” Callie scraped her plate clean. “That he doesn’t mind,” she added when Ruth looked puzzled. “So, what do you do, Ruth?”

  “Do?” That blank look again. Callie reacted with some horror, wondering if these blank expressions of Dev and Ruth were catching and she’d be wearing one soon. She rather dreaded the idea of donning such a mask for whatever reason. In addition to horror, though, Callie also felt irritation. She’d never before itched to smack someone upside the head, had considered it a metaphorical expression. Till now, when she regarded her sister.

  “Well.” Callie swallowed the last of her rice. “Dev here seems to cook and do childcare. What’s your contribution to the household?”

  “Shop,” replied Ruth promptly.

  “That’s funny, because I noticed that Dev went out and brought home all the groceries today.”

  “Oh, not for food.” Ruth’s tone suggested that her shopping for food was a silly notion. “For clothes.” She rubbed the material of Dev’s shirt between her fingers. Callie had the odd impression Dev was trying not to flinch. “Like this T-shirt.”

  “Shop for clothes.” Callie paused. “Anything else? Do you, say, clean the house?”

  Ruth became rather sullen and, acting like she’d been caught out, went back to eating.

  “We share the chores,” put in Dev. His dark eyes conveyed disapproval. Evidently this line of questioning, like all Callie’s other conversational gambits, was not welcome. “Though I do more of the work. Ruth’s been sick, you see, and she’s still recovering.”

  Callie turned her gaze back to Ruth. Having never seen her sister so healthy in her life—the dark circles under her eyes were gone and Callie recalled again that Ruth wasn’t smoking—Callie had to wonder at Dev’s statement. “When was she sick?”

  Dev shrugged and his expression threatened to go trancelike again. Gawd. Callie cast about for something to say to prevent Dev’s zoning out, but then he answered, “A month?” while glancing at Ruth.

  “I don’t know.” Her movements a little jerky, Ruth started clearing the table. She lifted her chin as she announced, “I will do the dishes tonight.”

  “If you want,” said Dev, and Ruth gave a definitive nod.

  While Callie might have felt some satisfaction in goading her sister to pitch in, the circumstances made it impossible. She sighed and shifted to look out the window, feeling desperate for some fresh air, some open spaces, feeling desperate to get away from this claustrophobic house and its unnerving occupants. “I’m going for a walk. When did you say Scott would get here?” She didn’t want to miss his arrival, that’s for sure.

  Ruth turned back from the sink, eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “He said he was leaving after work. So not till nine or so. Maybe later if the traffic’s bad.” She smiled. “I can’t wait, eh, Dev?”

  Dev didn’t react.

  I can’t wait either, Callie thought.

  Callie did wait. She also prowled—as human, of course—the streets of the suburb. By the time she returned, it was almost dusk. Madison was in bed and Dev seemed to be haunting the back porch. Probably where he’d been last night when he’d found her.

  She chose to walk around to the back of the house quietly, taking the opportunity to observe him. Trey would approve of a little reconnaissance, even if technically it was impolite.

  Dev sat on a bench swing, pushing himself back and forth with one foot, staring down at that foot, his face set in stone. It wasn’t a good expression and it actually caused Callie some pain. She hadn’t cared about anyone but Trey and Ruth for a long time, so these feelings of concern, new as they were, for a strange man and the child in his house, put her on edge. She hadn’t meant to think about anyone but Ruth.

  With a jerk, Dev stopped pushing the bench and flipped his face up to run a hand over his eyes—a rather despairing gesture that moved Callie.

  After blowing out a rough breath, he returned to rocking, the slow creak of the wood mesmerizing Callie. His one arm was stretched out along the top of the bench. She had this desire to nestle under that arm, and imagined Dev pulling her close.

  Odd. She was so used to her crush on Trey that it felt awkward to be drawn to someone else. She searched her mind for the reasons for this new and sudden attraction to a human. He was handsome, no doubt, the eyes particularly so. He was fit, muscular, and she liked that. But Callie suspected she was susceptible to the
se feelings because he looked after Madison and even Ruth, though the latter more grudgingly, she suspected. He often seemed irritated by her sister. Well, so was Callie.

  His chest rose and fell, his biceps flexed. He wasn’t quite at ease. Neither was she, but Callie decided that she had spent enough time watching him, that this one-sided observation wasn’t fair, so she stepped forward, out of shadow, to make her presence known.

  He jolted to his feet with a noisy inhale, almost a sound of alarm.

  “It’s me,” she said unnecessarily. She had to speak or be drowned in those large brown eyes made black by the night. She offered him a smile. “Your new and unwanted houseguest, remember?”

  His apprehension subsided. If she listened very carefully, she could hear his too-fast heartbeat, but at least the beat was decelerating. She wanted to protect him. That thought hit her with a bit more force than expected. Especially considering the circumstances, in that she didn’t properly understand the danger to this house, only that there was one.

  So, now she (and Puma) wanted to get Ruth, Madison and Dev away from here. First though, she would identify the source of the danger, or at least, to sound a little less dramatic, identify what the hell was wrong. Because something was very wrong.

  “You should leave,” he said in a low voice. The warning was not a threat, but advice delivered for her sake. Perhaps he believed she was at risk. He couldn’t know her hidden strengths, and she didn’t intend him to. “Scott looks after Ruth, in his own way. It’s not so bad. It could be worse.”

  Callie stepped towards Dev and she had the impression it took some work on his part to hold his ground.

  “Something is bad, Dev, and, what’s more, you know it.”

  He didn’t respond and before he could go into a trance—she saw the danger signs, unfocused gaze, tension in the mouth suggesting he was trying to say something yet couldn’t—she added, “It’s better that I stay and meet Scott. I can take care of myself, you know. I am, as Ruth says, strong.”

  The short lift of his eyebrows before he looked away conveyed complete doubt. He didn’t say anything, just stared off into the distance. After a while he asked, “What were you doing out there last night?” He gestured towards the back of the yard, evidently bemused by recalling how he’d found her in the grass.

  How to explain? Well, she couldn’t. “I wasn’t sure this was the address Ruth was staying at. I didn’t want to be thought an intruder.”

  “But you are.”

  “I guess so.”

  “Look.” Still gazing out into the dark, the words seemed to be pulled from Dev, like he found speech to be an enormous effort. “Don’t let Scott know Madison talks. And don’t”—here his voice became even more strained—“ask me why.”

  “Okay,” she said simply.

  He faced her again, expression wary. “Really?”

  “Really. I like that you want to protect Madison. I want to protect her too.”

  “And how will you do that?” The faint derision in his voice was dampened by weariness.

  “I’m going to confront Scott.”

  He grimaced and spoke through clenched teeth, the whites of them obvious in the darkness. “There is no point.”

  She chose not to argue. If she had learned anything this past twenty-four hours, it was that you couldn’t argue with these two people in this strange house. Either they said something painfully nonsensical or they spaced out. Leaving her with no argument to win. Not that she wanted to win, she wanted to connect, to Ruth, to Dev.

  Despite his unusual behavior, she was drawn to this new human. Maybe because he was strange. Given her own freak status, the normality of other men had always made her uneasy.

  Instead of speaking, she stepped forward. She watched his face stiffen and realized he was trying to hold his place, not back away. She raised a hand, found she wanted to place it on his chest.

  “No,” he said, the word flat, and he turned, barely avoiding her touch.

  Despite his rebuff, Callie spoke to his back. “I wish you could tell me what is going on here. Ruth makes no sense and I think you know that.”

  He drew in a long breath, and for a moment she thought he might speak again. Then he silently entered the house, leaving her alone on the porch.

  Chapter Five

  It was past time to put her excellent hearing to use. So Callie waited on the back porch and was rewarded when, about an hour later, a car pulled into the driveway. She crept around the side of the house, keeping to shadows, but didn’t turn the corner. And she listened.

  As soon as the car door slammed shut, Ruth was on the front steps calling out, quite joyfully, “Scott!” Callie had little time to be shocked by her sister’s enthusiasm before the greeting and its emotion was reciprocated.

  “Hey, sweetie.” It was actually a nice voice—Callie had expected something more sinister—even if she found the “sweetie” rather cloying. “How are you?”

  “Good.” A perky word from Ruth.

  “It’s good to see you.” Then, “Mmm.”

  Callie darted a look around the corner to see they were hugging. Before they could start to make out or even exchange a kiss, Scott placed his hands on Ruth’s shoulders and set her apart. He gave a slight squeeze of reassurance before he let go and stepped backwards.

  “Where’s Dev?” demanded Scott, more businesslike now.

  “In his room.”

  “How is he?”

  “The same.” Ruth sounded bored, making it clear that discussing Dev did not interest her.

  “Overhear any more crying jags?”

  Pause. “Last week.” Here at least Ruth sounded more troubled.

  “Okay. You’re not causing him problems, right, Ruth? He’s a bit fragile right now.”

  “No. I’m good. I swear.”

  Scott huffed out a sigh. “Not sure what I should do about him.” Ruth had nothing to offer, so after the silence dragged on, Scott added, “This new development. Your sister?” Voice lowered. “Where is she?”

  “Out back.”

  “I didn’t even know you had a sister.”

  “Foster sister,” Ruth acknowledged. “Though she’s like a real sister to me. She loves me.” This was said with some defiance, and any aggravation Callie had felt towards Ruth completely evaporated.

  “I’m sure she does,” Scott said soothingly. “You’re very lovable. But Ruth.” Significant pause and Callie was tempted to peek at them again, but decided not to risk it. “Ruth,” he repeated, his tone now stern, “you must tell her to leave.”

  “Oh.” Ruth’s voice was small.

  “Tell her you are very sorry, you love her, but she just has to leave.” Stern words indeed, which pissed Callie off. “Ruth? Respond.”

  “Yes, I will.” She sounded subdued.

  Fuck you, buddy, thought Callie, and as they opened the door to the house, she moved swiftly to the back porch.

  She didn’t know what disturbed her more, Dev’s apparent crying jags or Scott’s way of interacting with Ruth. As if, well, as if he was in total control of her life. Control freak, Callie decided, and that went in the not-good category. Even if he didn’t hit Ruth.

  A few minutes later, Ruth poked her head out the back door to peer into the darkness, looking for Callie.

  “I’m here.” Callie sat on the corner of the porch, arms wrapped around her legs, waiting for what would happen next.

  “Callie?” Ruth stepped out, let the screen door swing shut behind her. She approached, her face set, ready to do something unpleasant.

  “Was that Scott?” Callie asked innocently. “I heard a car.”

  “Yes. Scott.” Ruth bobbed her head once.

  “Where is he now?”

  Ruth considered, before she divulged, “He’s talking to Dev.”

  “I thought we weren’t supposed to talk, or that rule doesn’t apply to Scott?”

  Instead of responding, Ruth just scrubbed her face with both hands, then sighed. “Callie?�
��

  “Still here, sis.”

  She squared her shoulders and looked straight at Callie. “I am very sorry, I love you, but you just have to leave.”

  The lack of inflection and Scott’s exact wording made Callie’s skin crawl. She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts together and working towards answering in a casual manner. She wasn’t going to get in a fight with Ruth, who’d had too many people bully her in her life. “Okay, listen, I won’t stay forever, but a few days longer.”

  While this response made Ruth look less sad, it also seemed to stump her. “But you have to leave.” She paused, face going doleful again, took a breath and began, “I’m very sorry—”

  “Don’t worry.” Callie couldn’t stand to hear the recitation a second time. “I will leave.” She actually smiled at Ruth who, to Callie’s dismay, burst into tears. She leapt up to give her little sister a hug, rubbing her back. “Don’t worry,” she repeated. “Okay?”

  “But Scott—”

  “Tell Scott I’m leaving. Because I am.”

  Ruth calmed at the advice. “Okay, yeah, okay. You’re leaving.”

  “Yes.” Just not right away. Callie gave Ruth another squeeze before she led her sister back inside. “Let’s go up.”

  Ruth acquiesced, which was good. Callie wanted to get upstairs and eavesdrop on whatever conversation Scott was having with Dev, who didn’t much like to talk. Perhaps Dev became chatty when Scott was around?

  Four years ago, she’d been told by Trey that good shifter etiquette meant she shouldn’t eavesdrop on everyone at will with, as he dubbed it, her superhearing. She thought he would make an exception here. In fact, she wished she could consult with Trey now. Maybe he could make some sense of this strange household she’d stumbled upon.

  “What’s going on?” demanded Scott.

  Dev didn’t answer, he just glared, meeting Scott’s gaze, though the eyes had power and it was stupid to tempt the young Minder by looking directly at him. But Dev never could give way on the small things. Just on what was important. Which was why he loathed himself so.