by Nalini Singh
Timeline: This takes place around the same time as Alpha Night.
Wildcat Blues
By Nalini Singh
Part 1
“I swear I’m going to stop contracting my services to DarkRiver,” Zara muttered with a scowl as, arms folded, she stared at the large glass wall that separated the break room from the main workspace at DarkRiver HQ. “I’m an excellent architectural designer. Tons of demand for my services. Why should I put myself through this?”
Mercy, sprawled with catlike languidness in a curved armchair designed for feline tastes, followed Zara’s gaze to the scene beyond the glass. Clay, big and gruff, was tapping the nose of a little girl with pigtails who was bouncing up and down next to him, while an adult woman with a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and a lion’s mane of hair looked on, her expression ablaze with love.
“Yeah,” Mercy said as she bit into an apple, her long red hair pulled back into a high ponytail and eyes of leopard-gold sparkling. “Terrible people, my packmates. Just going around being happy to see each other.”
“That’s exactly it!” Zara pointed a finger at Mercy. “My first contract here, you’re single, Clay’s single, Lucas is single, every freaking person I’m close to except for Tammy and Nate, are single. Now? Not so much.” She tapped her foot. “It’s enough to give a woman a complex.”
“Zara, I just saw that contractor hit on you not five minutes ago.” Mercy raised an eyebrow. “I also saw someone else following the view of your ass as you walked away not long before that. You could be coupled up in five minutes flat if it was just about being one of a pair.”
Zara couldn’t exactly argue—fact was, Mercy was right. Zara didn't think she was a gift to men—yeah no, she was definitely no perfect princess, had a temper for one—but she cleaned up nice.
Her skin was a warm shade of mocha brown, her eyes the gray of rain clouds, and her hair currently a cute bounce of tight curls. More than that, she was smart, good at what she did, and fiercely loyal to family and friends.
“I’m a catch,” she said, more to herself than to Mercy. “I deserve that.” She nodded at how Clay had cupped Talin’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss.
The tenderness in it…it made her heart ache.
“Yes, you do.” An expectedly solemn comment from Mercy. Rising from her sprawl, the taller woman walked over to lean against the counter next to Zara. “Don’t ever forget that, Z.”
Zara exhaled. “The problem is that I’m around all these amazing guys”—she waved vaguely to indicate the DarkRiver pack, which included among its number some whoa-sexy men—“and while I love so many of them as friends, I don’t feel even a hint of a spark.” The same for her pack back home. “I tried a dating app six months ago, figured I’d widen my circle.”
“How’d it go?”
Zara made a mournful face and gave two thumbs down. “I’m fine being alone, but I always wanted the family deal, you know?” It went against her sexy single woman image to admit that, but facts were facts. “My cousin loves being a loner, would hate being tied down, but I’m built different.”
Mercy, a lethal leopard sentinel who’d fallen in love with the enemy and had his babies, gave her a shoulder bump of understanding. “Aren’t you going to the Nest with Tally and Clay?”
Zara nodded. “Yes, thought it’d be fun to visit a farm.” She frowned. “I mean, it sounded good at the time.” Tally’s adoptive parents had a place out in the middle of Nowhere, Iowa. Or was it Idaho? Somewhere farmy that began with an I.
“I’ve never been on a farm. I figured I’d enjoy the fresh air and maybe pet a goat or something. Usually, my cat would eat the goat, but you know, it wouldn’t be polite to eat the farm animals.”
Mercy snorted out a laugh. “You know Tally has two brothers, right?”
“Yeah, Tanner and Sam.” Since so many of Zara’s contracts were with DarkRiver, she spent months at a time with the pack. As a result, she’d become tight friends with many of the leopards and their mates—including Tally. “And she has two sisters.”
“Well, her brothers are both single.” Mercy waggled her eyebrows. “Maybe your destiny lies with a farm boy like in that movie you love.”
Zara burst into laughter. She literally had to wipe tears off at the end. Pointing at her red stiletto heels, which she’d paired with a tailored gray dress that followed her petite curves and matched her eyes, she said, “You think the woman who blew an entire month’s salary on these shoes is going to fall for a farmer? Nu-huh, honey, these heels are meant for walking on city streets.”
“You’re a wildcat changeling.” A dry comment from the redhead next to her. “You live in a forest.”
“In a very nice aerie with all the mod-cons and no cow pats in sight.” Zara shuddered at the thought. “I can also go to the city anytime—which, unlike many of our city-hating brethren, I like to do. No man is worth giving up my daily latte at my favorite café.”
Mercy grinned. “I once said I’d die a virgin before tangling with a wolf.”
“You’re just boasting now.” Mercy’s wolf mate adored her, and their pupcubs were about the cutest babies on the planet. Zara’s ovaries danced each time she cuddled one of the wriggly, happy monsters. She loved them so much that she didn’t care that they inevitably ruined her makeup with sloppy baby kisses.
“I’m just saying,” Mercy drawled. “Those might be famous last words.”
“Yeah, no. I’m going to go sniff some idyllic farm air, eat Pa Larkspur’s famous food, wear a few cute dresses and play farm girl for a few days, then I’m coming right back home to civilization.”
*
“Damn it!” Zara stared down at her brand new boot—no heel, flat and sensible, but glossy black with shiny metal details. And currently smack dab in the middle of some cow dung. Fresh wet cow dung. “Ugh.”
Closing the back passenger door of the people mover Clay had hired to drive them around on this visit, she was glad the kids—Noor and Jon—had raced out as soon as the vehicle stopped, and were already surrounded by hugging arms. Clay and Tally too, were full of laughter and delight as they greeted the small nation that was the Larkspur clan.
Leaving no one to hear Zara’s first word on her “idyllic” farm escape.
“It’ll wash off.”
She jumped, hand to her heart. “You snuck up on me!” It came out an accusation because she was annoyed with herself. She was a wildcat changeling, with a strong sense of smell. Which had been so overwhelmed by the cow dung that she hadn’t caught a hint of the man who’d walked around the corner of a row of trees that marked the entrance to the Nest.
He was big.
And gorgeous.
His skin was lighter than hers, more on the burnt honey end of brown, his eyes dark as night. She couldn’t see his hair under his cowboy hat, but his hands were big and strong, veins prominent on his forearms—visible because he’d folded back the sleeves of his checked blue shirt.
His jeans were faded and worn over muscular thighs that made her want to fan herself, his belt buckle equally nicked and old. He was carrying thick rope over his shoulder with the ease of a man at home with his physicality, and a faint sheen of sweat covered his skin. Right now, his lips were slightly uptilted as he took in her shiny boots, her skinny black jeans, and pretty floral top.
She’d dressed for the environment, had only packed a single pair of heels. Not her fault she wasn’t expecting cows to go around pooping in the drive. “Where’s the hose?” She lifted her foot out of the mess with a grimace.
“Round back.”
The most astonishing thing happened before she could reply.
A huge smile spread over his face, lighting it up from within as he dropped the rope to the ground and crouche
d down. A small dervish ran into his arms at the same moment, crying, “Uncle Tanner!” at the top of her voice.
Grabbing Noor up in his arms, Tally’s adoptive big brother rose to his full height and squeezed the girl tight. “Miss Noor, you’re looking pretty.” His voice was slow and warm, as decadent as caramel heated up on the stove, then poured over ice-cream.
“Look!” Noor showed him her blue overalls, then pointed. “I have daisies on my shoes!”
“I’m not saying they’re not nice and all, but darling, how are you planning to milk cows in white daisy shoes?”
Noor giggled, then mimed what seemed to be milking motions. Not that Zara knew anything about milking cows. Milk came from the green grocer. The end.
“I have dirty shoes too,” Noor said brightly, “so I can help you farm like last time.”
“I’ve missed my helper.” Tanner leaned in to kiss her cheek, before his eyes landed on Zara again. “Come on then, kitty cat. Let’s get your fur clean.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. But since she wanted the cow poop off her shoe, she followed. But of course he had to stop and hug everyone else. Teenaged Jon was already deep in conversation with a man Zara guessed was Tally’s other brother, but Zara was warmly welcomed by Ma and Pa Larkspur, both their daughters, those daughters’ husbands, and dear lord how many of them were there?!
“Zara got cow poo on her shoe!” Noor volunteered loudly from her spot in Tanner’s muscled arms.
Wanting the ground to open up and swallow her whole, Zara tried a breezy smile. “A true farm experience from the first minute.”
Everyone laughed—except for Tanner. He gave her a slow smile instead and things went boomity boom inside her.
Famous last words.
Uh-huh, no way. Zara De Lêon was not meant for a country life or a country man. She was an architectural designer, a wildcat who lived for lattes and designer sales. She did not do bake sales or grow large vegetables or whatever else it was that people did to amuse themselves in the country.
Her cat rubbed against her skin, its fur luxuriant. It nudged at her to go closer to him, get a good sniff. The predator who was her other half wanted a bite of Tanner Larkspur, wanted to hunt him in a way that had nothing to do with food, so much so that she felt her eyes begin to shift into her animal form.
He saw the change, but didn’t back off, didn’t flinch.
Rather, he put Noor down so she could run off to play with the Larkspur grandchildren, then closed the distance between him and Zara. Everyone else was distracted catching up, while Pa Larkspur passed out cold drinks, and Ma Larkspur just beamed and kept on hugging Tally, and it felt as if the two of them were all alone in that moment.
His hat shaded her face as he got close, the warmth of his big body a caress, and his scent a rich intoxication made up of fresh sweat, the sharpness of freshly cut grass, and more. “Name’s Tanner,” he said, that faint smile still on the full curve of his lips and his eyes focused on her to the exclusion of all else.
“Zara,” she managed to get out through a throat gone bone dry.
His smile deepened and it wasn’t the smile he’d given Noor or Tally or anyone else. This was more intimate, intensely male, far more raw. “Zara.” A murmur in that voice of liquid sin, slightly rough edged…just like the fingertip he just barely grazed over her cheek, as if brushing away a speck of dust. “Sure is nice to meet you at last.”
Her toes curled, her cheek hot, and her cat hungry. Starving.
She was in trouble. Big, tall, Tanner Larkspur-sized trouble.
Part 2
Zara jerked awake.
What was that?
She swiveled her head around, the sun that snuck in through the pretty yellow curtains as soft as the first kiss of dawn, and more than to confirm that she was all alone in her rustic farmhouse room with its sloping ceiling and large window.
The window was very important. Zara was a changeling. She didn’t like being contained and shut up and locked in.
“Tanner replaced the guest-room windows with larger ones when we first came to visit,” Tally had said, her cloud-gray eyes warm with so much affection that the amber ring around the gray seemed to glow. “He asked me what would work for my mate, then got it done. He’s the best big brother, you know.”
Of course Tanner Larkspur would be the first thing to pop into Zara’s mind. Hadn’t he haunted her all night in—
“Argh!” She sat up with a bounce as the rooster crowed again. What the hell? Was the thing right under her window? Did it want to get eaten? Zara was a civilized wildcat and was mostly content with getting her food from the butcher but she did have the hunt in her blood and it did need to be released every so often.
“Do not eat your hosts’ rooster,” she muttered, slumping back into bed and staring up at the sloping ceiling of what had once been Tally’s room. She wondered if her friend had put up pictures of crushes on that ceiling, or maybe light-up stars to keep her company at night. Or images of rock stars. Or maybe cowboys.
Like the one who was probably outside doing manly farmlike things.
Her face flushed. Thank the fates Tanner’d had to leave the farm yesterday soon after their arrival to go help out a neighboring farmer who’d lost a cow or something. Or was it to fix a tractor? She didn’t really remember, her hormones dancing so manically that her blood had been a rush of noise through her skull.
Whatever the reason for his departure, it had been a good thing. Because the way he’d been smiling at her, and the way her body had been reacting… She swallowed and, suddenly hot, shoved off the light throw under which she’d been sleeping. Since she was awake, she padded to the window in her panties and tank top, and peeked out through the curtains.
Fog licked the grass, the sky more gray than blue, and no pesky rooster in sight.
“Pretty,” she admitted. “And early.” That part didn’t bother her; she was an early riser and often went for a morning run in the forest in her wildcat form. No forest here, but a run sounded like a good idea.
Too bad she’d terrify the farm animals.
“They’re skittish but used to my scent now,” Clay had told her last night, his leopard a rumble in his voice. “They’ll sweat themselves dead out of fear if you get too close. Keep your distance unless I or one of the Larkspurs is with you to make the introductions. It still might not go well. Don’t take it personally.”
Her cousins would’ve laughed themselves stupid if they’d heard Clay’s warning. To them, Zara—the only female cousin—was about as ferocious as a friendly kitten. It had nothing to do with her gender; rather, it was her size and her refusal as a child to get her clothes or shoes dirty. When she bared her teeth at them, they grinned and said she was cute.
Zara didn’t know why she loved the giant hulking mugs, but her lips curved even now as she thought of them. They’d like Tanner. He might be human, but there was something about him that said he’d handle a bunch of aggressively protective changeling wildcats just fine. Not that he’d have to do anything of the sort. Because he was never going to meet Zara’s joyously crazy-making family.
Ne-vah. Because she planned to KEEP HER DISTANCE.
Zara had nothing against a little intimate skin privileges with a gorgeous hunk, but:
(1) He lived on a farm. Zara did not do farms. This visit was an exception because she’d wanted to get out of state for break, and she loved Tally, Clay, and the kids.
(2) He was Tally’s adopted big brother, and Zara did not make messes in her friendships.
(3) And, most importantly, Zara had reached a point in her life where she wanted true and forever. She wasn’t in the market for a fling.
She repeated that list of reasons inside her head as—having seen no animals outside that she might terrify—she pulled on her running tights, and switched out her sleep tank for a sports tank that helped keep her breasts from jiggling. Not that they were huge, but they were okay for a petite woman. Also, who wanted to be lopsided?
>
Okay, yes, maybe she’d wanted it as a teen, but she’d grown to love her body.
Today, she smiled as she used a soft band to push back her curls. It was bright purple. Jon had laughed when he’d seen it and said she was going back to the 1980s, then shown her a workout video from that era. Zara had informed him that true fashion never went out of style and bought two more in different colors. Now all she needed were the cute leg warmers from the video.
Aside from the purple headband, and a wedge of pink on the left thigh of her tights, her outfit was all black. It made her feel sleek and fast—which she was; none of her cousins could match her. A big reason why she took their ragging. Because they were good sports about her lording it over them when she left them in her dust.
Honestly, they were all—Zara included—hellions who were as juvenile as each other when it came to their teasing. But push come to shove, and she knew she could rely on each and every one without question. They knew the same about her.
The De Lêons stuck together like superglue.
Today, she tiptoed down the stairs with care, so as not to wake those who might still be sleeping. The smells wafting in from the direction of the kitchen told her that someone was definitely up, had brewed coffee, made some eggs. First, the run, then she’d wander into the kitchen and grab a plate of leftovers, or make herself some food if it was all gone.
The air was cool, crisp…and redolent with a thousand new smells that made her wildcat nose twitch. She supposed some of those smells might be termed bad, but to a cat, it was all just smells. And right now, while she might be in her human skin, her mind was of the cat.
She closed the front door behind herself, did a few stretches, then headed out across a field that appeared empty of livestock. The footing was uneven, probably from animal hooves, but it was nothing in comparison to the forest in which she regularly ran. Enjoying the bright, clean air, and the sprawling vista, she nonetheless kept her senses open for any sign of domestic animals.
The last thing she wanted to do was give some poor cow a heart attack.
