Cat Scratch Fever; Blue-Collar Werewolves V

by Buffi BeCraft

  “Don’t worry about that. She’s covered.” As one, their steps slowed as the buzzing agitation from this morning increased in Matthew’s head. A hulking male stepped into their path. Longish ragged dark blond hair, in desperate need of a cut fell around the hard planes of the werelion’s face. An over-wide nose and dusky skin hinted at a mixed heritage that gave the impression of a lion even in his human form. More about him clicked into place for Matthew while he studied the situation from between Brandon and Nathan. His bodyguards closed ranks for his protection.

  The werelion was the source of Matthew’s agitation. The male’s anger and frustration buzzed at Matthew. Two younger males hovered nearby; their loyalty to the lion evident by both their feelings and the way they kept glancing to the more experienced guy for direction. They reminded him of the nomad lions from TV nature shows. Sometimes the prideless males, especially the younger ones, banded together for survival. Were-people were turning out to be a fascinating mix of human and their animal counterparts.

  Matthew focused on the leader. He thought about a more friendly approach and crossed his arms over his chest to wait instead. Less than a minute into the standoff, the werelion didn’t disappoint. “So you’re the one who thinks he’s the Leo,” sneered the lion. On either side of Matthew, Brandon and Nathan tensed imperceptivity at the slight. To the clans, they appeared calm and alert.

  “I am Matthew Ridley.” Despite the lion’s hulking appearance, he didn’t look quite healthy to Matthew’s eye. There was a slight sag of tiredness to the lion’s posture. A rimming of red in his creased and tense eyes. “It looks like you’ve been on the road for a while. You can get a meal in and a shower at the house. Accommodations are still in the camp-out stage.”

  “We don’t need your charity.” The lion’s lip curled distastefully around the last word. “The clans are free. We scrape and bow to no one.” His gaze raked over Matthew. “Least of all a pencil-pushing lab mistake.”

  Matthew’s small rumbling growl made him reach out with a gentle psychic touch to the panther. Nathan immediately stopped. Matthew could feel him waiting, however impatiently for his Leo to get on with things. He felt Brandon constantly assessing the situation, confident in his ability eliminate his enemies while defending Matthew.

  “Survival is never a mistake.” With a shrug, Matthew turned his attention to the younger ones, effectively dismissing their leader as he approached worse off of the two leaning against the truck’s shiny chrome cattle guard. He reached out a hand to the young werelion that couldn’t be more than nineteen. “Hey. Come on. We’ll get you a hot meal and a place to rest.” Not to mention, Matthew would look into the reason behind the kid’s sickly, underweight appearance. Damn it. The clans weren’t free nomads. They were abandoned and homeless. Closer to street people than the popular romantic ideal of gypsies.

  “Nooo!” The massive werelion roared and charged. Beside him the young werelion cringed. In the split second it took for Brandon and Nathan to block the lion’s lunge, Matthew Changed. Power and magic flowed through Matthew’s veins. The werelion lunged against the hands gripping him, then stopped, staring as the Change bulked up Matthew’s body. His shirt seams gave up under the pressure, swept from his tiger striped chest by a spotted plate sized claw. Jeans and shoes met the same fate.

  He embraced the pleasure-pain of the magic reshaping his body, leaning into the push of jaw and nose. The explosion of teeth in his mouth. Hair flowed down his head covering his shoulders in a dark mantle. He revealed the Leo to his people in a gasp of awe.

  The werelion’s mouth dropped in disbelief. Matthew indicated for his men to let him go. After only a tiny hesitation they did, taking one step back. Matthew motioned once more with his hand, very aware of their disapproval even as they moved further away as he approached. “How about this,” Matthew crossed his arms again and controlled his aggravation; he wanted to tear this fool apart. Only the twitch of his tufted tail slapping the ground gave an indication of his mood.

  The werelion’s eyes focused on that bit of movement, then back at Matthew when he spoke again. He enunciated with care, the shape of his muzzle and the sharp teeth were becoming more familiar with each Change. “I’ll give you the chance right now to prove what you believe I am or not.” When the werelion just stood there, Matthew tilted his head and flicked his black tipped ears in annoyance. “What? No takers?” he shook his head as if disgusted and turned back to the younger werelion.

  In that moment, Matthew felt his opponent’s intent as well as his own. Sidestepping the open armed tackle, he shoved the werelion out of the path of the younger weaker lion and moved into the space between them. The werelion rolled to his feet, his body finishing up the Change into his half man-half lion form.

  In the wild, lions charged and grappled when they fought. Each biting, trying to penetrate the thick protective manes and clawing to cause maximum damage. Going with an almost-remembered instinct, Matthew brought his clawed foot up and kicked, sidestepping again out of the way.

  The werelion rolled to his feet again, snarling, his brown lip curling, showing sharp loin’s teeth designed for ripping and tearing. The werelion charged again, aiming his approach more to the right.

  Matthew listened to his body and waited, dropping one knee and thrusting his shoulder under his opponent. He rose, flipping the werelion behind him. Matthew twisted, his spine as flexible as any cat’s. His long, sharp claw buried into the werelion’s mane as he hit the ground and pinned the lion on his back. Matthew leaned in, accepting the bite of the others claws in his flesh as he went nose to nose. He found and pressed lethal claws against the lion’s jugular. “This ends now.” His voice was gravel over water. The horror the man in him would have felt at his willingness to kill was pressed into the void where survival reigned supreme. “Yield or die. Your choice.”

  The werelion struggled against the hold, his eyes meeting Matthew’s. His opponent’s will was strong. His intent was less self-serving than Matthew had originally thought. He’d tried and failed to keep the younger lions in his care. Matthew understood and sent the feeling to the other male. Sent him the feeling that all would be okay, whether the werelion set aside his personal pride or not, the younger ones would be tended to. Matthew would take care of them. They’d be safe.

  The werelion sagged, the disbelief in his eyes turned to confusion, then teared with emotion as he finally understood. “Leo,” he whispered. He broke eye contact. Sensing the change in attitude and the choice, Matthew stood and offered his hand-claw. “The name’s Matthew,” the lion hesitated then accepted help.

  “Laton,” there was a distinct pause. “My Leo.” Laton met Matthew’s eyes, this time there was no challenge.

  “Okay, Laton. Why don’t you and your friends get something to eat?” Matthew didn’t relish the time this had taken away from his meeting. He had to find clothes and get on the road, sensing Nathan’s urgency building. “I’d like to talk to you, but really have to be somewhere.” Laton nodded, moving out of the way in a chagrined motion. Matthew waved. He hoped the fairy lord wasn’t a stickler for punctuality.

  * * * *

  Pulling a fresh shirt over his head, Matthew replayed his asinine behavior with Naomi for the hundredth time. Part of him was still aggravated that it had taken so long for her to concede that he had his mental faculties together, but he didn’t have to get pissy about it then sulk like a child.

  His hormones bemoaned the very real possibility that he wouldn’t be getting laid again anytime soon. Thinking about how perfect she fit in his arms, and other parts made him want to claw his way out of the truck and run back to the house to beg for the forgiveness he would no doubt have to work for. Did werelionesses like flowers? Or would a steak be a better gift? Jewelry? He frowned, feeling pretty stupid at how right hunting down an antelope or deer. No woman he’d ever dated would like a kill laid at her feet.

  “Here.” Matthew’s reflexes reacted as fast as the object headed his way registered. He
turned over the cell phone in his hand. The inexpensive model appeared sturdy rather than on the cutting edge of communication technology. “You need one of those,” Brandon said and leaned against the door frame. “Plus, that one is one of those prepaid accounts. BioPet will have a harder time tracking you down.”

  “I was going to order a replacement from my service provider.” Matthew didn’t like the idea of his people taking on his bills or providing him with his basic needs. He’d been relying on himself alone for too long to become a mooch this late in the game. He tried to hand the thing back but Brandon ignored the effort. “I’ll take care of my own account.”

  “Later.” Nathan poked his head in the door. Matthew was beginning to become used to the lack of privacy, especially from his two self-appointed bodyguards. “Right now, we’re regrouping. If I were those assholes at BioPuke, I’d be monitoring your accounts and phone to get an idea where you were.” The notion was plausible. Disturbing, yet entirely within the realm of possibility. “Take the phone Leo, so we can all rest a little easier. You’ll be pulling more than your own weight soon enough.”

  Matthew shoved the device in his jeans pocket with a sidelong look at the panther. He still didn’t like the idea of someone else taking care of his business. Awareness, brought his head up. He met Naomi’s hesitant, but still angry green-gold gaze. “Get out,” he told the men. They complied without a word, slipping away silently.

  Naomi stood her ground. Her chin tilted up defiantly. He could feel Jillian hovering nearby with one of the lionesses. The females’ protective aura was as distinctive as Brandon and Nathan’s.

  “I’m not sorry about wanting you safe,” he said. Inside he wanted to haul his mate into the room, tie her to the bed, and never leave. Her raised eyebrow didn’t let him off the hook, but he wasn’t backing down either. “I did warn you that I can be an ass. I’m probably going to be one again if your safety is in question.” He held out a hand, inviting her in. Matthew hoped she’d at least meet him halfway. “I’m hard-headed and my family doesn’t have a great track record in the relationship department. But you’re not going be able to get rid of me.” He watched her eyes widen and felt…shock? He frowned, remembering the cats’ penchant for wandering. Did she expect him to leave or want him to? That kind of pissed him off. He took his hand back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean it, Naomi. Marriage is important. Our people are important. They need both of us. Leaving is not an option.”

  Emotion swamped Matthew. He shifted uneasily, uncomfortable as he tried to sift through her emotions. Finally, tears spilled over her cheeks, pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around her sweet, soft body, pulling her tight. He also felt Nathan’s impatience to get going, to gain some kind of security for their people.

  Inwardly, he sighed. Who was he kidding? Screw the meeting. His woman’s was the most important thing in his life. Matthew laid his cheek over Naomi’s short, cute hair. “Shhh, baby. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  She gave a watery laugh. Her emotions were just as jumbled. “I just needed to know that you really meant to stay.” She shrugged, but tightened her arms around his chest, speaking into his shirt. “I’m hard-headed too, and our whole species has a bad track record in relationships. So what now?”

  “Well, in a little bit I’m going to have to go do my job as Leo and kiss a lot of political ass.” He struggled, trying to find the right words. “I need you, Naomi. More than I need air to breathe. The idea of losing you kills me.” Matthew confessed, leaning back to gauge how well she took that.

  “I love you,” Naomi tossed the words down like a dare. “My king; my Leo.”

  “I love you too.” He brushed a finger against the purple love bite from last night, already looking forward to his welcome home from the meeting. “Naomi, my heart. My queen, my Lia.”

  The feeling of déjà-vu made him look at her harder than he intended. Reality shifted, and for a moment he was the Mathais from his dreams. Love and loss made a man do drastic things.

  He hoped not to make a mess of it this time around. Resolve steadied Matthew, renewing him with purpose. For the first time in a very long time, he belonged. From the inside out, Matthew felt whole as he accepted all the aspects of himself, tools that were at his disposal. Giving a mental nod to his fate, Matthew relished the feel of his mate in his arms and the growing feeling of the clans in his consciousness.

  This time around, he had no intention of failing Naomi, Bastet, or their people.

  The End