The Magical Christmas Cat

by Lora Leigh

  ey was over the coming snow.

  Haley looked around the nearly deserted library. The two-story glass-and-metal building was incredibly beautiful. Donated by an effort between Sanctuary and several of its supporting companies, the building had the look and feel of beautiful wood, without the cost. Even the metal-and-steel shelves had that old-wood look, and housed the thousands of paperback and hardback books beautifully.

  The electronic books were housed in the main data boards and e-readers were plentiful for those who needed to check them out if they didn't have their own. But it was the paper feel of the books that Haley cherished. The history and the bridge between the past and the present that always drew her.

  The library was deserted this evening. The last college student had left more than an hour before, and no one else had come through the heavy glass doors.

  "Why don't you go home, before the storm hits," Haley suggested. "It's only another hour before closing, and I can take care of that myself."

  "Or that handsome Noble Chavin, should he arrive before closing," Patricia teased her. "When do you think he's going to get up the nerve actually to do more than follow you home every night?"

  "With Noble, who knows." Haley turned away from her friend, tucked the keys to Patricia's car in her purse, and hid her expression.

  Noble, unknown to the curious, wasn't courting her in any way, and she knew it. He was watching her, just as breeds from Sanctuary often watched her. Just to be on the safe side, she had been told after she had told Callan Lyons and Jonas Wyatt about the meeting that had taken place in the library room of Sanctuary the month before.

  Jonas had promised her it was a precaution only, but that precaution still had the power to make her mouth dry with fear.

  "I think I'll head home early then," Patricia decided, as she moved behind the counter and pulled her coat on. She flipped her shoulder-length gray-and-brown hair over the stiff black collar and stared back at Haley worriedly. "You're sure you don't mind about the truck?"

  "As long as you don't scratch her," Haley reminded her, but her smile was quick. Patricia was excessively careful with everything, no matter to whom it belonged.

  "Should I throw a quilt over her before I go to bed?" Patricia laughed.

  "If you don't mind. And don't forget the pillows for her tires," she reminded her playfully.

  Patricia rolled her eyes as she grabbed her purse and headed for the door. "I'll be sure to remember both," the assistant teased her. "Perhaps I should park her where she can watch television as well."

  Haley laughed. Okay, so she loved her truck. Everyone teased her about it.

  As Patricia left the library, Haley moved from behind the counter, picked up the remote, and flipped the news on again. There was all that fat fluffy stuff headed her way. Piles and piles of snow. A snowman in her yard, the Christmas lights around her house twinkling against it, it was going to be the best Christmas ever.

  A smile was curving her lips when the world exploded around her. The blast filled the air, glass shattered as a wave of heat knocked her from her feet and flung her several feet away to where the children's reading nook was sectioned off. She bounced over the low shelves, cried out in shock and pain, and crumpled on the floor as a wash of red seemed to fill the library.

  Sirens were howling. Something red was flashing, flickering and the scent of burning paper filled the air. It was hell on earth.

  Haley dragged herself to her knees, shaking her head as she felt the ground shake again, and another explosion rock the air.

  She cried out, covering her head with her hands as more glass exploded, and the cold seemed to battle with a surge of heat.

  She staggered to her feet, shock, disbelief and horror filling her as she realized the books were burning. Piles of books. Flames licked at them, consumed them. The tables, counters, and much of the interior of the library was wood or a facsimile of it, and it was all burning.

  Smoke poured around her, choking her, making it nearly impossible to see as she fought to get her bearings. She stumbled through the debris-littered section, nearly falling as another, smaller explosion ripped across the earth.

  What was happening? A strike? Some sort of attack? Sanctuary wasn't far from Buffalo Gap, and she knew that it was prone to attacks from several different racist societies, but no one had ever attacked Buffalo Gap.

  She choked and stumbled again, falling to her knees as her eyes burned, and she fought for breath. She wasn't going to get out of here. Tears filled her eyes, and fear filled her mind as she tried to crawl, fighting to figure out which way to move, which way to go.

  "I have her!" someone yelled, a second before strong arms wrapped around her and dragged her to her feet.

  A moment later she was slung over a broad shoulder.

  "Was anyone else in there?" another voice called out.

  "No one," she choked. She couldn't breathe, even as the cold outside wrapped around her, and she tried to blink the stinging pain from her eyes, still fighting to breathe.

  "Haley, where's Patricia?" She was deposited on the hood of a car as someone shook her shoulders. "Is Pat in there, Haley?"

  Haley shook her head, blinking as the fierce visage of the sheriff filled her vision. She shook her head again. "Gone," she coughed. "She left."

  "Her car is still here," Sheriff Zane Taggart barked into her face.

  "My truck," she coughed again. "Gave her my truck."

  Silence met the information. She coughed again, blinking, gazing around frantically until her eyes found where her truck had been parked. Right there, in front of where the big windows had been, where a fiery blazing hulk sat in the middle of melted pavement and the burning vehicles left in the parking lot by several city workers that worked nearby.

  Her truck. Her truck had sat right there. And Patricia had been in her truck.

  "No," she whispered, horror filling her, streaking across her mind. "No!" she screamed. "Oh God, Patricia."

  She tried to jump to her feet and ended on the ground. Her legs folded beneath her as the sheriff tried to catch her.

  Her nails dug into the frozen earth, and she stared at the blazing vehicle in disbelief and agony. Oh God, Patricia had been in her truck.

  The report came across the radios within seconds of the blast. Noble was just coming off a twenty-four-hour shift and heading to the barracks when it crackled across the comm links.

  "All available enforcers, be aware. Explosion at the Buffalo Gap Library. One dead, one injured. Officers en route. Sheriff Taggart requesting enforcer backup."

  He didn't wait for the order. He heard the names called to backup, the enforcers being pulled in to head to Buffalo Gap, and he didn't care if his name was on the list or not.

  "Comm one, this is Chavin," he reported to the dispatcher. "I'm heading from Sanctuary en route now." He jumped on his motorcycle, revved the motor, and shot out of the driveway next to the barracks. "Advise Alpha leaders one through four, we have a compromise."

  "Enforcer Chavin, order received and being forwarded. You'll be met by enforcers Warrant, Savant, and Crayven. Be advised, Director Wyatt will be en route."

  Sanctuary's heavy metal gates swung open as he approached, the headlights of his motorcycle piercing the darkness and highlighting the faces of the ever-present protesters.

  He shot through the opening, hit the gas, and tore through the press of bodies that threatened to surge against him.

  "Heli-jet is being prepped and en route," the dispatcher reported.

  "Any report of the casualty?" he yelled into the link.

  "No report as of yet," he was informed.

  He hit the accelerator with one hand, felt the power surge beneath him and, with the thumb of his other hand, hit the integrated traction control and advanced speed protocols before he pushed the specially designed all-terrain cycle to its limits.

  Thankfully, the curvy mountain road was more or less free of traffic. The cycle's warning system alerted him to traffic and
allowed him to streak around it safely.

  As he sped to the town, all he could see were Haley's wary gray eyes and pale, worried face the night she had overheard the plans Brackenmore and Engalls had discussed with the breed attempting to sell them information. All he felt was the echo of the knowledge that there was the chance that someone besides himself and the Breed Cabinet would find out what she had overheard before the hearing she was due to testify at.

  He powered down as he hit the city limits, though he still pushed the cycle faster than the posted speed limits allowed.

  Haley, with her bright red hair, her soft scent of desire, couldn't be gone. He knew he should have never left her protection to any other breed. Something had warned him, some strange foreboding had told him that her life would be in more danger than one silent bodyguard could defend her against.

  Damn Jonas. Noble had warned him they couldn't keep her safe like this. She needed to be sequestered, at the very least pulled into Sanctuary until the hearing next month against Brackenmore and Engalls.

  The bastards. The drug they had created to attempt to control breeds had resulted in two deaths in the past few weeks, and they had nearly lost Dr. Morrey as well.

  And now, they could have lost Haley.

  He couldn't imagine a world without Haley in it. He refused to imagine such a thing. It was impossible, it couldn't happen.

  He hadn't kissed her yet. He had barely even touched her. He hadn't yet figured out why she drew him as no other woman ever had, though in the past week, he had begun to suspect exactly why.

  He hadn't yet had a chance to decide*if he could risk taking her, making her his, or if he should force himself to leave the situation as it stood.

  The hunger eating at him was still controllable. The need driving him could still be buried in another woman. The heated lust could still be pumped from his body, and though satiation was never complete, it was satisfying.

  He was still his own man.

  For the moment.

  Once he knew Haley was safe, once he made her life his primary objective, he would no longer be able to claim that singular independence. And he knew it.

  He raced into town, slowing the cycle and easing it around traffic, bending over the padded chest rest and gearing down as he glimpsed the flames that blazed around the library.

  And he felt the roar that discharged from his chest at the sight of the twisted, ruined, blazing hulk of Haley's truck. A roar of bloodlust and animalistic rage. Someone was going to pay. Dear God, if she was in that truck, if she was gone forever, then blood would flow.

  Chapter 2

  Haley shuddered in the blanket Zane Taggart had wrapped around her. The sheriff was kneeling in front of her as she sat sideways in his cruiser, her feet on the ground, the heat from the vents blasting over her upper body. Still, she shuddered from the cold and the fear.

  Zane was one of those men in Buffalo Gap Haley had known almost since the cradle. He was a few years older than she, so he had always been a little protective of her. Zane was protective of all women though. He wasn't in uniform, so he must have been off duty when the explosion happened. He was dressed in jeans, a dark flannel shirt, and a heavy quilted overshirt.

  He was staring at her silently as she gripped the cup of hot coffee he had pressed into her hands seconds ago, his expression concerned.

  "You should let the paramedics look at you, Haley." He reached out and brushed her hair gently off her forehead.

  "I'm fine." A sob hitched her breath, shuddered through her body. "Patricia's not okay, Zane." More tears leaked from her eyes.

  She couldn't seem to hold them back. Patricia was gone, and it was all her fault. Because she had let Patricia borrow her truck, had given her the keys because it was going to snow.

  Lazy fluffy flakes were already drifting through the air, but they no longer held the magical appeal they had only a few hours ago.

  Flames still burned inside the library. The fire blazing around the building and the vehicles that had caught fire were more important than the books inside a building that would contain its own flames.

  "No, Patricia's not okay, Haley." Zane sighed and stared through the windshield before turning back to her. "You have to tell me what happened, honey."

  "I don't know." She stared back at Zane in shock. "It was going to snow. You know how pitiful Patricia's car is in the snow." Another sob tore free. How pitiful it had been. The explosion had destroyed several other vehicles as well, Patricia's being one of them.

  She lowered her head, fighting the sobs that shook her shoulders as Zane patted her knee.

  "Come on, Haley." He lifted her chin until he was staring back at her. "You gave Patricia your keys, right?"

  She nodded unsteadily. "So she could get to town after the snow. She hates being snowed in."

  "Yes, she hates that." Zane nodded. "Go on."

  "That's all," she whispered. "She went out to leave. I turned the television back on. I wanted to see the snow." Her lips trembled. "They were showing the snow in other states, and I wanted to see it. And then . . ." She blinked and shook her head.

  She had to stop crying. She had to remember what Jonas Wyatt and Noble had told her. She couldn't tell anyone what had happened at Sanctuary until the hearing. But she knew, oh God, she knew Patricia had died because of it. Somehow, some way, the Breeds' enemies knew what she had seen and overheard. She knew it. She could feel it crawling over her skin, digging its way inside her brain.

  "Haley." Zane stared up at her, his blue eyes sharp, concerned, but knowing. "You have to tell me what's going on here, honey. Someone blew up your truck. That wasn't an accident. You and I both know it wasn't an accident. Now, you have to tell me why."

  She shook her head. She couldn't lie to Zane. She was a horrible liar, and she knew it. And she couldn't look him in the eye when he was staring at her like that. Determined and worried, compassion and pain glittering in his eyes.

  She looked at her truck, and her stomach ached with the sobs and the fear she was holding in. Her chest felt constricted, tight, and filled with pain.

  There was nothing left of Patricia. She was gone, while the snow drifted through the air, and the flames billowed around them.

  Firefighters were working to put out the blazes, several twisted hunks of vehicles were nothing but charred skeletal remains of what they had been.

  "We found a breed, Haley," Zane told her then.

  Her head jerked around in terror. Haley could feel the rest of the blood leeching from her body, agony tearing through her.

  "No." Sometimes Noble came in late. Returned books, helped her lock up.

  "He was shot behind the library. Someone killed him. Now tell me what the hell is going on, or I'm taking you in for your own protection."

  "Who?" The word wheezed out of her as her stomach churned sickeningly. She was rocking, slowly, back and forth, and didn't notice as the coffee cup slipped from her grip and crashed to the ground.

  She was going to throw up.

  "Who was the breed?" She nearly pushed Zane back as she forced herself to her feet. The quilt dropped behind her. "Where is he?"

  She was shaking so hard she had to grip the open door as Zane grabbed her shoulder.

  "Haley, dammit, tell me what the hell is going on."

  "Was it Noble?" she screamed back at him. "Tell me, damn you. Who was the breed?"

  She tried to tear away from him, the sickening fear of Noble, gone, dead. No, it couldn't be Noble.

  But it had been time for Noble. It had been. She had been waiting for him.

  She stared around and jerked away from Zane.

  "Where is he?" She sobbed again, stumbling around the door and gripping the side of the car as she tried to force her legs to move.

  He had said behind the library. Dead behind the library. She wasn't crying now. The fear and the pain was going too deep for tears. If Noble was gone, she couldn't bear it. Not Patricia and Noble. It couldn't happen. Not like this. Not bec
ause of her.

  As she forced herself around the front of the vehicle, she heard a sound so wild, so animalistic, her head jerked up. It was Noble. She knew it was. She couldn't accept anything else.

  "Noble!" She screamed his name and heard the sound again.

  It rocked the night. Like the wild lions that patrolled the borders of Sanctuary. If the night was quiet, sometimes, you could hear them. And now, it sounded as though one had stepped into the city itself.

  Her head jerked around, staring into the parking lot, watching as the flames flickered around it. And she saw him. All that wild black hair blowing back from his savage face. His lips were pulled back into a snarl as he pushed a police officer attempting to hold him back to the side.

  Black-leather pants and heavy motorcycle boots. A leather jacket that he was unzipping as his gaze caught hers. He moved like the jaguar he was bred from, a hard, graceful shift of muscle, a ripple of danger.

  "Noble." His name tore from her lips again as he snarled. The sight of it, the sound of it, should have been frightening. The flash of his canines, the hard edge to his black eyes, should have frightened her as much as it did the officers and bystanders.

  She tried to make her legs move. Tried to run to him but they weren't functioning as they should. She stumbled again and heard his throttled growl a second before he jerked her into his arms.

  Warmth covered her. She was only barely aware of his jacket going around her shoulders, because he was holding her, jerking her against his chest and swinging her off her feet.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against him to block out the sounds, the sight, and the smell of the fire.

  He smelled like the night. Like winter. Like the snow that was drifting around them. There was no death around him. There was nothing of the nightmare and chaos around her.

  For the first time since the night had turned into hell, Haley finally felt safe.

  "Chavin, be advised of reinforcements landing," the comm link crackled with the information as Noble buried his face in Haley's hair and held on to her. His arms tightened around her as he let himself rest against the hood of the sheriff's cruiser and let himself soak up the knowledge that she was alive.

  As he held her, he was aware of the breed heli-jet landing on the other side of the parking lot, and of the sheriff moving closer to them.

  His head jerked up as Sheriff Taggart pulled the edge of Noble's jacket over her shoulder. He flashed a feral snarl at him, the thought of the man touching her finally sending him past the limits of what little control he felt he possessed.

  Taggart lifted his hands, his eyebrows arching.

  "She was afraid the dead breed behind the library was you," the sheriff told him, his blue eyes knowing as he watched Noble.

  Noble tensed and let go of Haley just enough to activate his communicator.

  "Jonas?"

  "I have you. We're on scene."

  "There's a breed behind the library, apparently dead." Silence filled the line for long seconds. "Fuck. We had Jason covering her."

  Jason was young, but fully trained. He wasn't inexperienced.

  "I want her out of the open. I'm bringing her to the heli."

  "Negative. We have vehicles coming in and a civilian in the heli. Transfer her to one of the secured SUVs."

  Noble grimaced. No doubt, the first Leo was in the helijet, the breed who only a few knew was a breed, and an interfering bastard at the moment, had decided to check things out himself.

  That meant there was no way to transfer Haley to Sanctuary. Not and preserve the secrecy of Leo's identity from her.

  He listened through the link as Jonas sent Mordecai Savant and Mercury Warrant to check the body and prepare it for transfer.

  "You guys are going to fuck with my investigation, rather than just helping me secure the scene, aren't you, Noble." Zane tucked his fingers in the belt of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. "You know that's not going to go over with me. Right?"

  "Talk to Jonas about it," he snapped. "My concern is Haley right now, Taggart, and where she's concerned, then your best bet is just staying the hell out of my way."

  He turned and carried her to the vehicles pulling into the outer edges of the parking lot. The library was pretty much lost. The books had fed the flames that had whipped through the windows as they burst. It was a wonder she was still alive and relatively unharmed.

  Relatively. He could smell her blood, her pain. He could feel her fear and her disbelief, and it was enraging him.

  Clamping a firm hold on his control wasn't easy. As he carried her to the SUVs and slid with her into the backseat of the nearest one, he could feel that rage pumping through him.

  Someone had dared to harm her. To attempt to kill her? The attempt was against her; otherwise, the young lion breed, Jason, wouldn't be dead, and her beautiful truck she so loved wouldn't be a hunk of twisted metal.

  "They killed Patricia." Her head lifted from his shoulder as the door closed behind them. Her eyes, that dark ring of blue spreading into the gray, darkening them further.

  He saw the pain and tears in her eyes. Noble let his arms tighten around her for long seconds as he watched Jonas stride to the SUV. Beside him, was the taller, broader form of the Leo, barely disguised in a hooded jacket, and his son Dane Vanderale. Evidently, neither of them were content to wait in the heli or at Sanctuary.

  Behind them, the sheriff followed more slowly, his rugged face set in a scowl as breeds moved between them. That damned sheriff wasn't going to be content to let this go, he thought, as the others moved into the long seat across from Noble and Haley, and the doors closed behind them.

  The combined stares of the three powerful men didn't bother Noble, but evidently, there was something about them that made Haley self-conscious.

  Her head lifted, her expression flickering with wariness.

  "Someone found out, didn't they?"