Wild Card: Wildcats Book 3

by Vincent, Rachel

  She liked me. I could tell that from the way her pulse sped up every time she looked at me. But I had no right to act upon her attraction, when soon she’d have to watch me run. Or see me executed.

  We only had one day. Less, really. But that should be enough time for me to show her that she’s worthy of everything she wants in life and in love—even if I can’t be the one to give it to her.

  Three

  Kaci

  According to the map app, the drive to Houston would take just under an hour and a half. Faythe and Marc started calling about twenty minutes in, but they only called my phone at first, which told me they hadn’t yet discovered that Justus was missing.

  Justus plucked my phone from the cup holder, where it was plugged in and giving us directions to the airport. “You want me to put it on do not disturb?”

  “I’m thinking I should answer it. Maybe I can delay the inevitable.” I flicked on the blinker, then changed lanes a little too fast. “Answer on speaker phone, please, but be quiet. I don’t think they know you’re gone yet.”

  Justus tapped the speakerphone button, then angled himself in the passage seat to face me. Ready for the show.

  “Hello?” I said, loud enough to be heard over the road noise.

  “Kaci?” Faythe nearly shouted at me. “Where the hell are you? Did you take Chris’s car?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, but…I had to get out of there for a little while. I can’t stand the way the guys look at me. As if I’m going to shove up someone’s sleeve and just…take a bite.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing, I just… I’m tired of being the man-eater.”

  Faythe made a furious noise deep in her throat. “I will personally fire anyone who says—”

  “Threats won’t help. They’ll still be thinking it.” I paused for a moment. Then I pressed on, trying to pretend Justus wasn’t listening to me humiliate myself, because I was so close to buying us enough time to get to the airport. “How many times had you been proposed to by your eighteenth birthday, Faythe?”

  Silence echoed from the other end of the line. Then she exhaled. “Kaci, you’re too young to get married. You’re too young to want to get married.”

  “I don’t want to get married. But knowing that no one’s interested? That no one’s ever going to be, because of something I can’t go back and undo? People have wanted you your whole life. People fought over you like you were fu—” I aborted the profanity when I remembered that I was speaking to Faythe. “Like you were Helen of Troy. People won’t even sit next to me at dinner unless there are no other chairs left. Normally I’m fine with it, but tonight, I need a break. Tell Chris I’m sorry about his car, but I’m taking good care of it. He’ll totally get it back.”

  Faythe’s new silence stretched into several seconds, and I was starting to worry that I’d misjudged her sympathy. Or her sleep-deprived, postpartum temper. “Where are you, Kaci?”

  “I’m headed to Angelina Forest. I want to run in peace. Near the lake.”

  “By yourself? Let me send someone—”

  “It’s our territory,” I reminded her. “And I’m grown. I’m sorry I took the car, but maybe this is a good time to revisit the discussion about me having my own?”

  The car discussion was to Faythe what the sex discussion was to Marc—kryptonite. And a guaranteed subject change.

  “We’ll see,” Faythe hedged. “If you’re not in the driveway by three am, I’m sending out the guys. Either way, you’re going to have to make it up to Chris on your own.”

  “Deal. And I will. I promise.”

  “Do not make me regret this.” The exhaustion in her voice made me flinch with guilt.

  “Thanks, Faythe,” I said. “I really appreciate this.”

  “Love you, hon. Be careful.”

  “I will. Love you too.” I glanced away from the road long enough to end the call, then exhaled a combination of relief and remorse.

  “Damn.” Justus whistled. “You knew just what buttons to push. You’re mercenary.”

  “Yeah, and I feel bad about it,” I snapped at him. “So, don’t rub it in.”

  Justus went quiet for so long that I glanced at him, worried by his silence. He was staring at me. No, he was studying me.

  “What?”

  “You weren’t playing her, were you? You really think no one will ever want you.”

  My face burned like it was on fire, but there was no use denying the truth. “You’re too new to understand this yet, but the least lonely people in the world are tabbies. They’re needed. They’re wanted so badly that most of them have had several marriage proposals by the time they hit eighteen. Which is messed up, and not what I want. But there has to be some happy medium between child bride and the way our enforcers look at me like I’m something the dog hacked up under the back porch.”

  I heard my own words as they hung in the air between us, and suddenly I wished I could shove them all back into my mouth. I was driving a stolen car with the first tomcat to ever even look at me twice, and instead of acting cool and funny, I had to vomit needy bullshit all over him.

  I must sound like such a loser.

  Justus exhaled slowly. “Stop the car.”

  “What?” My pulse spiked painfully, leaving a bruising ache in my chest. He’s going to get out. He’d rather hitchhike than ride with me to the airport.

  I flicked on my blinker and shifted into the righthand lane, then slowed as I pulled as far onto the shoulder as I could get. “I know you can take care of yourself, but at least call a cab or something, okay?” The thunk of the gearshift settling into park echoed like regret in my head. “Don’t walk down the side of the highway. Not even shifters can win a wrestling match with a car going eighty miles an hour.”

  Justus lifted my hand from the gearshift and laced his fingers through mine. “I’m not getting out of the car, Kaci. I just wanted to kiss you without causing an accident.”

  “You wanted to…?”

  He leaned over the center console, and our mouths met in a soft press of his lips against mine. His hand slid over my jaw into my hair and he tilted my head one way and his own another, deepening the contact. Prolonging it.

  “Oh my god,” he murmured against the corner of my mouth, while my heart slammed against my sternum hard enough that it seemed to shake the whole car. “You taste so good.”

  Then we were kissing again, an almost desperate exploration of lips, and tongues, and even a little teeth. And when he finally pulled away, his hand slid down my arm and he looked right into my eyes. “I would sit next to you even if none of the other chairs were taken. Hell, I’d just pull you into my lap and share my chair with you.”

  It took me a second to realize I was grinning like a fool, just staring at him. “So…” I cleared my throat, struggling to make myself grab the wheel again. To focus on the road. “Vegas?”

  “Unless you’ve already had enough adventure for one night.”

  No. No I had not. The taste of adventure—the taste of Justus—had merely awakened an appetite I hadn’t even known I’d had. And suddenly I wanted nothing in the world but to satisfy this new hunger.

  * * *

  Justus’s phone started ringing as we were going through security at the airport. The first call came from Vic. Then came one from Marc. When both their texts and their calls went unanswered, Faythe called Justus. Once. Then she called me, but I didn’t answer.

  Then Titus started calling Justus, and I knew the shit had hit the fan.

  “They’re going to kill us,” I whispered as I buckled my seatbelt on the airplane.

  “They’re going to have to catch us first,” Justus whispered back as he took my hand beneath the armrest.

  Then the plane took off, and a spike of adrenaline hit me with such a burst of euphoria that I no longer cared what would happen when we got back. Or how mad Marc and Faythe would be. I hadn’t left Texas except to go to school or Pride functions in more than five years. I’d lo
st my family, and my friends, and my home, and my own name when they'd found me in the woods in Montana, and while I knew they’d done all that to save my life, to save my sanity, taking this trip with Justus was the first thing I’d done for myself—for the Kaci Dillion I’d once been—in my entire life.

  And I’d be damned if I was going to feel guilty about that.

  * * *

  “So, wait, what name’s on your diploma then?” Justus whispered as a man walked past us to get to the bathroom at the front of the plane. First class was pretty nice.

  “Karli Sanders. Officially, I’m Faythe’s cousin, who came to live on the ranch when her parents died a few years ago.”

  “Wow. Was it hard to remember to answer to one name at home and another one at school?”

  I shrugged. “At first, but I got used to it. They probably thought I was living in my own world at school, for a while, because people had to call my name, like, three times before I answered.” It was funny to think back on. Funny in a mortifying, bare-your-soul kind of way. Yet it didn’t feel strange to be baring my soul to Justus.

  “Sir, here’s your whiskey and soda.” The flight attendant set an unopened can, a plastic cup of ice, and a small bottle of Jack Daniels on his tray. “And your soda,” she added as she set another cup of ice and a can on mine. “May I get you anything else?”

  “I’m fine, thanks,” I told her as I popped the top on my can.

  “I’m fine too.”

  When she’d moved back to the galley, Justus opened his tiny bottle of whiskey and offered it to me. “She won’t be able to tell which cup we poured it into,” he whispered. “For all the good it’ll do.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s really hard to achieve a buzz as a shifter. Vic says it’s the increase in metabolism. We process alcohol much faster than humans do, so it doesn’t affect us as strongly. Have you never tried it?”

  “Nope,” I admitted. “I think that’s one of those things natural-born cats take for granted and just kind of assume everyone else knows.” And I probably wouldn’t have been willing to have my first drink on an airplane, if not for that new bit of information.

  “Wait, aren’t you…?” Justus frowned at me, then took a subtle sniff in my direction. “You’re not a stray.”

  “No, but I—” The flight attendant turned her back, and I dumped his bottle into my cup while she wasn’t looking. Then I poured soda over it. “You haven’t heard about my…circumstances?”

  He took the empty bottle and set it on his own tray. “Just that they found you in the woods, and you were… Um…”

  “Eating someone?” I picked up my glass and took a long drink, then coughed when the burn seemed to stretch all the way down my esophagus.

  People across the aisle leaned forward to look at me.

  Justus pounded on my back. “She’s okay. It went down the wrong pipe.”

  That made me laugh, which made the coughing worse.

  “You should probably sip it, at least until you’re used to it,” he whispered when I could talk again.

  “Sorry. That line about eating people felt like something I should punctuate with a drink of something…real.”

  “So, it’s true?”

  “Yeah,” I said as he poured soda into his own cup. “I had a really rough patch at thirteen. But to truly understand that, you have to know that my parents were normal. Human. As was my sister. I’m somewhat of a rare case.”

  “A shifter born to human parents?” His eyes narrowed on me as he sipped from his cup. “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “I told you. Rare. It’s something about recessive genes. You have them. So does Titus. You have to have a shifter in your bloodline somewhere in order to survive being scratched or bitten. People who don’t have that recessive gene don’t live through the infection.”

  “How would I possibly have a shifter in my family and not know it?” he asked.

  “Oh, it could be waaay back. At some point, someone in your family hooked up with a shifter—almost certainly a tomcat—and made a baby. The most common theories involve one-night stands, which is what toms are best at, and affairs. Since most toms never get married, over time they’ve evidently gotten really good at getting…tail. Pun intended.”

  Justus laughed so loud everyone turned to look again.

  I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, yeah, it sounds funny when you put it like that.”

  “You put it like that,” he pointed out.

  “My point is that you have to have the recessive gene to survive being infected. And I am what happens, very rarely, when two people with those recessive genes have kids.”

  “Your sister didn’t…get it?”

  “Nope. And I have no idea why. We did a little bit of basic genetics in biology, but nowhere near enough for me to understand why when she turned thirteen, she got insta-boobs and her period, but I turned into a big black cat.” I took another long sip from my cup and managed not to choke that time. “Seriously, I drew the shortest straw in the entire history of puberty.”

  “Holy shit.” Justus’s smile faded into a look of concern that quickened my heartbeat. “I thought I had it rough, because I didn’t know I was infected. I had no idea I was going to shift—or even that that was possible—until it happened. But I was twenty. I can’t imagine going through that at thirteen. Your family must have been really freaked—”

  The obvious conclusion seemed to hit him all at once.

  “What happened to them?

  “My mother and sister found me behind the house. I’d just shifted for the first time, and I was out of my mind with terror. Obviously, they didn’t know it was me. All they knew was that my clothes were on the ground, ripped to shreds, and there was a big black cat in our yard.

  “They started shouting and swinging things at me, trying to protect themselves, and I…did the same thing. I…” I turned up the cup and drained it, relishing the burn in my throat like penance for a sin I could never be forgiven for. “I’m sorry. I’ve never actually told anyone.”

  “Faythe and Marc don’t know?”

  “They know. Everyone knows. But they found out on the internet. They looked me up once they got me to tell them my name, and the story was…there. My dad was still looking for me at the time. He was convinced for a long time that I’d somehow survived the ‘wild cat’ attack that killed my mother and sister, because they didn’t find my blood at the scene. But eventually he stopped looking. And I let him.” I shrugged. “That was the best thing I could do for him.” I’d let my father mourn me and move on. “I look him up online every now and then. He remarried a few years later. He has two more kids now. Both boys.”

  “Holy shit,” Justus breathed. “I feel like I should order you another drink.”

  “For all the good it would do,” I said, repeating his words, and he smiled.

  “So, did you eat…your…”

  “My family? No. When I realized what I’d done, I was terrified. Traumatized. I ran from my backyard into the woods before my father came home, and I eventually made my way south of the border. From Canada.”

  “You’re Canadian?”

  “Yes. From British Colombia. But ‘Karli Sanders’ is American.” I poured the rest of the soda into my empty glass. “Anyway, I didn’t know how to shift back into human form, or even if I could, so I just kind of lived in the woods. For, like, two and a half months. I wandered into Montana without knowing it, and Faythe and her family found me. They were there for Faythe’s trial, the same place they’re holding yours. It’s the northern free zone, which is considered neutral territory. That’s why they hold murder trials there.” Another shrug. “Not that there are many of those.”

  “Do you remember her trial?” A flicker of fear flashed across Justus’s face—the first I’d seen from him, even though he seemed sure the court would find him guilty.

  “I wasn’t actually there in the room with the tribunal, and I was still pretty…traumatize
d. I really only remember images from that first week or so, after being stuck in cat form for months. Faces. A very confused jumble of emotions. The taste of my first meal that wasn’t raw meat since the day I’d turned into a cat.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah. Faythe was the first person I let near me.” I leaned closer to him over the padded armrest, to keep the people in front of and behind us from overhearing a very strange whispered conversation. “I’d been in cat form so long that I was basically feral, even in on two feet, and she thought I might respond better to the scent of another girl. She had to sneak in to see me. She says I just kept hissing at her, at first.” I shrugged and sipped from my soda. “But she stuck with it. She stuck with me. And she got results, so it was hard for the Alphas to say much about her breaking their rules. Though I suspect they were still pretty mad.”

  Justus shook his head, eyes wide. “It’s hard for me to imagine Faythe not being in charge.”

  “I know. Her dad died a few months after I came to live with them, and she’s been the boss ever since. I hardly remember back when she was just an enforcer, but I’ve heard lots of stories. She broke all the rules. She was a total thorn in the council’s side. She still is, kind of.”

  “She and Marc are the only reason I’m getting a trial,” Justus said. “Strays aren’t considered citizens, and if they hadn’t taken me in, the council could have done whatever they wanted with me.”

  “You feel guilty now, don’t you?” I could see it in his eyes.

  He nodded slowly. “The last thing I wanted to do was piss them off. Or seem ungrateful. I just… I don’t know a lot about the council. I don’t really know anything about natural-born cat society, except what I’ve learned from Vic and the guys, but what I do understand is that the council has a very long history of siding against strays. And it’s hard for me to imagine them doing anything else in my case.” Justus leaned closer to whisper to me, his cup held in front of his mouth, as if to foil any attempt to read his lips. “I mean, it’s not like I’m innocent. I actually infected those people. I actually killed Drew Borden. And the thing is that I don’t really regret it. He deserved what he got. He deserved worse, for what he did, and if I could do it again, the only thing I would change is how mercifully quick he died.”