Black Cougar Curse

by Tess MacKall

  Moonface laughed, low and ominous, and glared from Sam to the hook then back again. “Reckon you’ll make a break for it if I take the ropes off. Or attack me.”

  Sam shook his head as though defeated. “Big guy like you shouldn’t worry about anything like that. You’d stop me running. Besides, I’m no match for you. Waste of time me trying to start shit.” And I’ll be honest now. I know things. Things you want to know. And I’m the only one who knows them. “Come on, man. If you string me up I’d likely pass out as weak as I am right now. So untie me. These ropes are cutting off my circulation and I’m getting numb. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  The bastard studied him for a few seconds, arms folded. “Like I’m going to believe that! Everyone talks with a little pressure applied. Everyone.” He shrugged. “We’ll just sit here until you get bored. I have time. Days, weeks, whatever. My boss said as long as I got the information, I had plenty of time.”

  “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be good if you got the information now? How good that would make you look, huh? Think about it. Guy like you needs to rise up the ranks, you know? Untie me. Get the glory.”

  “I don’t need to untie you. You can just tell me what I need to know. You’ll talk. They all do in the end.”

  “Telling you won’t work. I have to show you. I know where the cougar lives.”

  “Say what?” Moonface widened his eyes. “Well I’ll be… Shit. Right now you’d say anything to get out of those ropes and try to take a swing at me.”

  “You’re right. I probably would. But think. I’ve lived in these mountains all my life. If anyone has seen the cougar, it’s me. Do you really think a city girl like Lucia knows a damn thing about it? I’m the one you’re looking for. Not her.”

  Moonface paced, apparently mulling over Sam’s words. He turned to face Sam again. “You don’t need your damn hands untied to walk. Now get up!” Moonface glared hard, his cheeks reddening. “Don’t get me any more pissed off with you than I already am.”

  “We have to climb up that rocky slope at the back of the cabin to get to the trail. I can’t do that tied up, goddamn it! You want the information, you just have to trust me and undo these fucking ropes.”

  Moonface paused a moment, as though weighing what Sam had said.

  Go on, take the damn bait…

  Moonface sighed then flexed his arm muscles. “I’ll take your fucking head off if you so much as move the wrong way, you got that?”

  Nodding, Sam stretched his arms out. Come on. All you gotta do is get these ropes off me, motherfucker.

  Moonface kneeled, maintaining eye contact the whole time he untied the ropes at Sam’s ankles. Sam lowered his arms, letting the guy know he wasn’t about to bring both his fists down on his head. The ropes loosened and Sam eased his legs apart, shifting the bonds out of his way with one foot.

  Moonface stood and nodded at Sam’s hands. “Lift them up. And no funny shit with your feet, either.”

  Sam obeyed, looking the man straight in the eye. Instant relief came as the ropes fell away to the floor. He flexed his fingers and rotated his hands.

  “Thanks.” Sam’s stomach tautened further and his head lightened. Couple more minutes…keep him talking a little while longer…

  “Start talkin’.” Moonface strode away and pressed his back to the door, gun pointed at Sam’s chest.

  Sam turned to him but remained in place. His spirit rose, hovered above Moonface—the place he needed to be when the change completed. “I’ve heard tell of a big cat.”

  “Yeah?” Moonface’s eyes brightened. “And?”

  “But it isn’t a human. It’s just a damn cougar.” At Moonface’s scowl, Sam pressed on. “Never heard of it being a human anyway. I mean, how would that work? It isn’t possible, right?”

  “Might not seem possible to you, but my boss, he reckons some guy’s been cursed. Years ago. Like, couple hundred years. Said his great-granddaddy told him way back when he was a kid. Anything’s possible with you fuckers living up here in the mountains, believing in all that spirit shit. Playing with magic. All that chanting and crap like that.”

  Sam kept a poker face despite laughter brewing inside him. If this man only knew the power the spirits could invoke, he’d shit his pants. Sam’s legs weakened. The transition was escalating. “You mind if I sit down?”

  Moonfaced gestured to the floor. “Go ahead. Just tell me about this cat. And be fucking quick about it so we can be on our way.”

  Sam dropped to the floor. He lay on his side to ready himself. The faint mist of change swished over his body and Moonface frowned, blinked.

  “Where are we exactly?” Sam asked, hoping to distract him. “Maybe I can explain how far we are from where I think the cougar has its den.” Eyes throbbing and burning, he closed them.

  “Not too far from your cabin. Rented this place from some old guy in town.”

  “All right. Gives me a better fix.” The familiar prickle of hairs beginning to sprout overtook Sam and he gave in to it. His soul plunged back into his body, the transformation swift and steady. He whipped to all fours and growled, staring at Moonface.

  The man’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped opened and closed. “Fuck me!”

  He fumbled with the trigger, his hand shaking so violently he couldn’t pull it back. He reached for the doorknob, missing several times before he clasped it, yanked it open and turned to run. Sam dove forward, all four paws landing on Moonface’s back, pitching them into a hallway. The gun slid along the floor out of reach. Moonface’s forehead struck the wall and he slumped down, arms flailing to get Sam off him. Anger rolled inside Sam. He swiped his paws at the man, almost sorry to hear the screams of fright. Would scaring him be enough? Or would he come back to hunt them again? The idea of Lucia being harmed pushed out every other thought and Sam bit down on Moonface’s arm, dragging him onto his back. He stood over him, paws on either side of his body, and drew back his lips.

  Moonface’s steely gaze told Sam all he needed to know—this guy was frightened, but he’d never give up searching for the cougar. His and Lucia’s lives were at stake if Sam let this man live. He would have to kill to keep them safe. A whoosh of cougar force swept through him He lunged, clamped his teeth into Moonface’s neck and ripped it open. A garbled scream died in the man’s throat as blood poured from the wound, soaking Sam’s muzzle. He bit again, ripping out the vocal cords, and backed away, leaving Moonface to bleed to death in agony. Sickened, Sam whirled and sprinted down the hallway in search of a way out. Lucia wasn’t here. Her scent was absent. Stairs led downward at the end and Sam took them, sniffing a source of fresh air. He searched the lower rooms until he spied a large open window in the dining area and jumped outside. In the backyard he stood still, listening for sounds of anyone else in the vicinity. Hearing nothing but leaves rustling in the trees to his right, Sam ran around the side of the cabin and out onto a flat expanse of grassland. After gaining his bearings, he sniffed again, hoping to catch Lucia’s aroma on the wind.

  A faint whiff of her reached him. He took off in the direction of his cabin, speeding across the grass and into the forest. Mulch and earth cold on his pads, his claws sinking into the mud, he darted in and out of tree trunks, sensing Lucia had been near here recently. Moonlight shone between the trunks ahead and Sam ran faster, every sinew stretching and bunching with his efforts. The trunks thinned as he traveled then opened out at the stream where he and Lucia had picnicked. Remnants of her scent were here, so he nosed the ground, pacing the bank in search of a stronger aroma. He thought of his vision—Lucia bruised and bloodied beside the stream. Panic jarred his heart and swelled in his chest. If she wasn’t here, where the hell was she? Why had he seen the vision if it hadn’t come true?

  He splashed across the shallow part, came up on the opposite bank and caught the smell of blood. He sniffed, padding along the edge of the stream, picking up a more pungent stench of the copper tang he sought.

  Please don’t let me find her h
urt. Dead.

  He remembered the vision in the fire in his living room, the future he’d been shown with Lucia by his side. But what if that vision was wrong too? He stopped at a stretch of trampled grass the size of a human torso. Peering into the blades, he spotted a dark patch.

  Blood.

  He darted right and stumbled toward his cabin, lungs straining and muscles flexing with each thud of his paws on the ground. The clearing outside his cabin came into view and Sam slowed, senses keener now, alert to any movement or sound, however small. And then he remembered he mentioned they should meet at the waterfall should they become separated, but he was so close to the cabin, he’d check there first. His breaths clouded the air before him, the night colder since he had been here last. How long had he been out of action? He glanced up at the moon to see how high it had risen. Maybe an hour had passed.

  Shit, Lucia could be anywhere by now.

  A stiff breeze sailed over him, bringing with it the rank odor of blood and the stronger scent of Lucia.

  Sam took off running. A hump on the ground came into view and his heartbeat picked up speed. Was that Lucia down there? He couldn’t tell, couldn’t make out anything except that it was a person. He retracted his lips and snarled. Cold air filled his mouth as he opened it to release a feral yowl. He narrowed his eyes—long dark hair spilled over the ground, obscuring the face. Slowing, Sam caught his breath and prepared himself.

  If it’s her, if the vision was wrong and she’s…

  Inhaling through his nose, he padded closer, spotting a man’s gray suit. Relief spread through Sam, weakening his legs, and he forced himself to investigate further. He still had to find Lucia. Sam nosed the hair away from the man’s face. Deep gouges marred the Indian’s cheek, congealed blood dried there. An exposed, bloody hole gaped at his throat, and blood soaked his white shirt.

  He looked up. Lucia’s clothes lay in a heap a few feet from the Indian.

  Lucia had shifted—and he hadn’t been there to help her through it.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucia had turned and fled as fast as her painful leg allowed, her recollection of the route to the waterfall coming sharp and certain. Her instincts screamed that only Sam was important now—him and their survival—and she rushed on, teeth gritted against the pain. At the waterfall, she limped behind the watery curtain, entering the cool cave, relief loosening her limbs. Curled in the spot where the fire had burned so long ago when Indulala brought Sam to this very place, Lucia licked her leg wound. Luckily the bullet had only grazed her, but shit, it hurt like hell. Finished cleaning, she flopped onto her side and closed her eyes, planning to rest for a short while before going back out in search of Sam if he didn’t arrive soon.

  What if he didn’t come? What if she couldn’t find him?

  I can’t think about that now. I’ve got to remain positive.

  With a whoosh, her soul lifted and she stared at herself below on the cave floor, her fur ruffling, skin undulating over muscles and bones. Her teeth slid upward and her lips pulled back. She noted their familiar human shape and felt every hair slip back into its follicle. Soft stinging pains rippled into her paws as they changed into hands and feet. As though she had never been a cougar, her female form appeared, her calf stained with a fresh streak of blood. Her spirit plummeted, diving back into her body, and she opened her eyes as the full extent of her human self settled back into place.

  I killed two men, I killed two men, I killed two men…

  A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed, bringing her knees up to her chest and clasping them tight. Stones on the cave floor dug into her skin but Lucia ignored the bite, her mind too full of what she had done. Traces of her cougar remained, whispering that she had done what she had to do. Live or die, those were her options, and whether she had been human or not at the time, the fight for survival would have ended with the same results.

  She closed her eyes again, tears stinging, and gave in to the rising emotions. Sobbing, she released the tension and guilt, promising herself this small moment of self-indulgence before rising and leaving the cave to find Sam. She wavered between the two options. If she left here and Sam came to find her gone… But if he needed her… Another question came, one that shocked her upright and sent her giddy. What if there are more men out there in search of the cougar? In search of us?

  She cursed and sobbed harder, the decision too hard to make right now. Weary, she remained still, telling herself this small respite was what she needed in order to give her strength should she need to go out and search.

  * * * * *

  Sam pounded toward the waterfall, the scent of the liquid curtain growing stronger by the second. He prayed Lucia would be there, that she wasn’t hurt someplace he couldn’t find her.

  But I will find her. Even if takes me days, I swear I’ll find her.

  He ran through the forest, twigs crackling under his huge paws, rapid-fire breaths shunting out of him. Breaking through the tree line, he stared at the rugged, jutting rock ahead, the whoosh of pouring water hitting the pool below it thundering in his ears. His senses were so keen the sound pained him and he shook his head to release the pressure building inside his skull. Rounding the base of the rock, he sped through the archway in the stone, the gush of water gaining volume. The short, narrow tunnel closed in on him and he ran faster, wanting to be out of the stone confines. He burst out of the rock and slowed, not wanting to slip on the pool’s edge and tumble into the water. He didn’t have any time to waste. Sam strode behind the waterfall and sniffed, barely picking up Lucia’s scent, the water’s aroma too strong and overpowering. He thought of her not being inside the cave and his heartbeat quickened with alarm.

  What if someone else was in on the cougar deal? What if they had taken Lucia after she’d shifted and harmed the man I found dead at the cabin? A tranquilizer dart would have taken her down, no problem.

  He stepped into the cave, seeing nothing but blackness. His stomach lurched and he cursed in his mind, hoping to keep the shift at bay. He couldn’t switch back now. Not if Lucia wasn’t here. He needed his cougar form to run faster, to use the cat’s extra-perceptive senses. Without them his search for Lucia would take longer.

  A sniffle sounded and he peered into the gloom, vigilant in case someone other than Lucia created the noise. He walked forward, making out a human form on the ground. The smell of blood reached him and he bared his teeth. Head rearing, he fought the urge to release a feral shriek and lowered it again, nose closer to the cave floor with every step forward.

  And he saw Lucia, her back to him, a wide dark smudge staining her calf. He darted forward, rounding her body so he could look at her face and scent her breaths.

  It whispered out of her partially opened mouth, steady and sure—she slept peacefully. Sam slumped to the floor beside her, closing his eyes to allow the shift to take place. It happened quickly and he reached out to push strands of her hair away from her face. She jerked awake, eyes widening fast, and scooted backward, pushing her torso upright then scrabbling to her feet. Bunching her fists, she stared at him as though she didn’t know him or her surroundings.

  Sam sat up and held out his hand. “It’s all right, Lucia. It’s me.”

  Emotion swelled inside Lucia, threatening to send her into a faint. She rushed forward, cradling Sam’s head against her lower belly, her fingers twining in his hair.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. He’s here. He’s safe.

  Sam stood and crushed her to his chest, arms going about her, hands splayed on her back. She pressed herself to him, wanting him closer than was possible, wishing she could merge her body with his so they became one being. Tears spilled and sobs racked her. Sam smoothed his hands up and down her spine, murmuring endearments into her ear. She soaked them all up, whispering sentiments of her own, cupping his shoulder blades and nuzzling the crook of his neck.

  He feels so damn good. So right.

  Lucia lifted her head and clasped his face. Brushing her lips ac
ross his, she slipped her tongue into his mouth. He tasted so fine, so Sam. They kissed for some time, long and sweet and sensual, his burgeoning cock rising to tap her inner thigh.

  He took his mouth from hers and drew his head back a little, looking into her eyes. “You’re hurt. I saw and smelled blood.” He raised one hand and caressed her hair then trailed his thumb down her temple, tracing her jawline. “Let me look.”

  She shook her head and, as if the mention of her wound prompted more pain, she winced at the insistent throb. “It’s fine. I’ll be okay.” She remembered them making love in the pool here and she wanted him like that again, the kind of slow lovemaking that curled her toes and set her soul free. She lowered her hands, searching out his cock.

  “No, sweetheart. Not yet.” Sam’s eyes darkened and his face took on a look of concern. “I need to look at your wound. How did it happen?”

  Lucia cleared her throat, remembering Jacob coming toward her with the rifle. “I was…I was shot.”

  “What?” He gripped her shoulders and a tremor went through him. “You were what?” Taking her chin between fingers and thumb, he stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Who the fuck did that?” His jaw muscles twitched.

  “Jacob,” she said, sliding her arms around his waist.

  “Jacob? Your ex?”

  Lucia nodded and rushed on. “But he won’t hurt me again. I…I killed him.” But did I really? I just didn’t save him… “He was in the deepest part of the stream. I pushed him in there. He couldn’t get free—cried out for help and I just stood there. My cougar—I shifted, Sam, shifted into a damn cat—and…and I turned away from him. Came here. God, I killed that Cherokee guy too. Gouged out his throat for everything he’d done that led to my father’s death.” Tears burned her eyes and she blinked them away, angry that the guilt remained when if their roles were reversed, the Indian man wouldn’t have given her death a second thought. “I keep wondering if he deserved what he got, whether anyone deserves that kind of death. But I just acted on impulse. Followed my cougar instincts.”