Walk on the Wild Side

by Christine Warren

  He didn't ease the pressure on her mouth until she melted against him and returned the kiss with equal fervor.

  Swearing silently, Max tore his mouth from hers and glared down at her. "You've been attacked four times in the two and a half days since you've been in Vegas, Kitty. You need to take this seriously. You're the daughter of a Felix someone already wants dead and now you're being linked with his successor. That gives someone twice as much incentive to kill you."

  "Whoever it is doesn't seem to need much incentive," she grumbled, pushing away from him and crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't get what anyone gets out of killing me, though. It's not like I'm heir to the throne. Why aren't they trying to kill you?"

  "Because he wants to take the easy way into becoming Felix. Like I told you before, if Martin dies before the title passes to me, it would be a lot easier to divide the pride and convince at least some of them to follow him. But once you came into the picture, things got complicated."

  "Complicated how? I'm no threat to the next Felix."

  "You are if I take you as my mate."

  Kitty's jaw dropped, and she stared at Max as if he'd just spoken to her in Esperanto. "If you what?" she whispered.

  "It's how Martin cemented his control over the pride when he became Felix," Max reminded her, wishing he could tell if the expression on her face represented shock or horror at the idea. He already knew she was his mate, but he hadn't yet figured out how to convince her of that.

  "I'm not saying I'd force you into something," he tried to reassure her while not appearing to be lying through his teeth. He didn't want to force Kitty into anything, but he had no intention of ever letting her go. "I know you wouldn't want that, and I wouldn't want it either, but there is a history of it among our people, and some people might assume—"

  The door behind him swung open.

  "Forgive me for interrupting, baas, but I have a message for you."

  The tall redheaded man framed in Max's cabin doorway looked about as comfortable as a virgin at a swingers' party. If Max hadn't been standing between them and threatening to beat her, she could have kissed the man for barging in like this.

  "Unless an atomic bomb is about to explode over our heads, David, I don't want to hear it," Max growled without turning his head. "Don't let the door hit you in the ass."

  Max should have turned around, she reflected. That way she would have had the opportunity to signal to this David guy like a convenience store clerk with a robber's gun trained on her when an off-duty cop came in for a cup of coffee and a Slim Jim. But Max never even glanced the other way.

  Of course, neither did David obey Max's order and leave them alone. That struck Kitty as slightly odd.

  "Max," David insisted, his tone low and serious. "This is important."

  Cursing, Max swung around and glared at his pride mate. "What's the matter?" he barked.

  "It's Martin. He's taken a bad turn," the redhead said quietly. "Dr. Reijznik said you should come up to the house. Right away."

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-two

  THE HOUSE SEEMED ODDLY QUIET, EVEN WITH THE crowd of vehicles out front and the crowd of bodies inside. David had warned Max that Nick had gone to spread the word to the rest of the pride while David went searching for Max and Kitty. Apparently, Nick had a real gift for efficiency.

  Bodies parted in front of Max like the Red Sea before Moses, and Kitty followed along at his side, clinging to his hand as if it were the only stable thing in her universe because, frankly, that's what it felt like. They made their way slowly down the hall toward Martin's suite. No one tried to stop them, but occasionally someone would murmur something to Max in a low voice and earn a nod or a pat on the shoulder as they passed. None of those people tried to speak to Kitty, but more than one stared at her with blatant curiosity. She did her best to block them out, but it wasn't easy. Her mind was constantly searching for something to distract her from the knowledge that her father lay in the bed where she'd visited him the day before, quietly and inexorably slipping away from all of them.

  When they finally reached the bedroom door, which was guarded by a huge man with long blond hair and a busy red beard, Max pulled her to a stop and gently tipped her chin up until her gaze met his.

  "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

  Kitty nodded, then swallowed and shook her head. "I guess. I don't know." She looked up at him and wished fervently that he would just take her back to the cabin, take her back to bed, and make her forget about all of this. "Max, I… I don't know what to do. I don't know how to act. When Mamaw died, it was terrible, but I knew I had to be strong. I knew she wouldn't want to see me making myself sick crying or anything like that. But she raised me. She took care of me all my life. I just met my father."

  Max reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears, and she realized it must still be tangled and tousled from their encounter outside. And she never had gotten a chance to shower. She was filthy. She closed her eyes in embarrassment. How on earth could she stand at someone's deathbed looking like this? Mamaw would have whupped her good if she could have seen it.

  "Are you worried because you don't know Martin well enough to know how he'd want you to act?" Max asked quietly. "Kitten, it's okay. You don't have to stress yourself out about it. Just be yourself. That's all he'd expect from you."

  "That's not what I meant," she confessed, shaking her head and feeling like she would burst into tears at any minute. If she didn't throw up first. Her stomach was lurching again, just like old times. "I don't know him, Max. He's my father, but he's still a stranger to me. I'm sorry he's dying, but I can't mourn him like he deserves to be mourned. Like a father. Maybe you should go in alone."

  Smiling, Max used the pad of his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek. "Just be yourself, kitten," he repeated. "That will be more than enough for Martin. I promise."

  She didn't get time to launch another protest. Max wrapped his arm around her waist, nodded to the guard at the door, and then guided her through when it opened to admit them.

  The room looked so different than she remembered. Though it was still light outside—she had noted with amazement as they drove over that it was only a little after 3:00 P.M.—the curtains had been drawn in this room, creating a dim, cavelike atmosphere well suited to death. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was nearly empty. She recognized the nurse she'd seen yesterday, the one who'd kicked them out of the house, and Dr. Reijznik, but other than the two of them, and her and Max, the only other figure in the room lay still and quiet in the room's only bed.

  Kitty forced her gaze in that direction and saw that all but one of Martin's monitors had been turned off. Only the cardiac machine still functioned, and its sound had been turned all the way down to silence the electronic beeps that accompanied every beat of its patient's weary heart.

  Martin looked even smaller than he had yesterday, thinner and paler. His body barely formed a mound under his thick blankets, and the head of his bed had been lowered so that he lay flat on his back like the effigy on the top of a stone sarcophagus.

  Kitty shuddered at her own thoughts and swallowed against the roiling in her stomach. She didn't want to think of him that way, didn't want to think of death at all, but in this room it seemed impossible to avoid it. She felt like she stood enveloped in a giant funereal shroud, and the coldness of that image seemed to penetrate clear to her bones. Instinctively, she moved closer to Max's reassuring warmth.

  He murmured something reassuring and the sound caught the doctor's attention. He looked up from his place at Martin's bedside and nodded to them, gesturing them closer. If he noticed that Max had to use the pressure of his arm around her to urge her forward, he pretended not to notice.

  He rose from his chair as they approached and met them a couple of feet from the foot of the bed. "I'm glad you're both here," he said quietly, but his attention had focused on Max. "He's been insisting on seeing you, and he's asked several times after his daughter."
>
  Max nodded and rubbed his hand over the gooseflesh covering Kitty's arm. She found his touch reassuring, gave thanks for it, but she didn't think anything could warm her just then. She felt frozen through to the core.

  "How—" Her voice broke, and she had to clear her throat before she continued. "How much longer… ?"

  She trailed off, unable to finish, and pressed a hand to her belly.

  Dr. Reijznik glanced over at her and opened his mouth to reply but seemed to catch himself. His sharp gaze swept quickly over her, then darted to Max before he collected himself and shook his head. "I can't say for sure, but I'm guessing no more than a few hours. Probably before nightfall. Definitely by morning. He's growing weaker almost by the minute."

  She nodded and leaned heavily into Max's side. It wasn't fair of her, she knew. She should be the strong one, the one supporting him. After all, he felt closer to her father than she ever would. Max would suffer the greater loss, not her. But he felt so strong and solid beside her that she couldn't resist. She felt so lost, and he glowed beside her like her own personal North Star.

  "Is he in pain?" Max demanded, keeping his own voice low. Trust him to get straight to what was important.

  The doctor hesitated. "I'm not sure. I increased his morphine as much as he would let me, but he refused to allow himself to fall unconscious until he'd spoken to you."

  Max nodded once and tightened his arm around Kitty. "Then let's go talk to him."

  He guided her across the thick carpet to the foot of the bed. He stopped there, his gaze on the man he'd said he thought of as his father, and stood still and silent for a long moment. Kitty tilted her head to look up at Max and saw that he had his blank mask firmly in place again.

  In that instant, she understood what that mask was all about. The only times she had seen him use it had been when he was dealing with someone he didn't trust or when his strong emotions threatened to overwhelm him. It was his defense mechanism, protecting him from the pain of open vulnerability.

  Her heart contracted in her chest, and she felt a rush of strength infuse her. She released her arms from their defensive position across her chest and slipped one of them around the waist of the man beside her, the man she loved. From the first moment she had met him, he had never hesitated to run to her rescue. She'd come to rely on him utterly without really realizing it, but now he needed her almost as much as she needed him. There was no way she could ever allow herself to let him down.

  When her arm squeezed, Max tore his gaze from Martin's still form and glanced down at her. She managed a smile and a whisper as she urged, "Go on. I'll wait here. You deserve the chance to talk to him alone."

  Max didn't protest, just searched her expression with warm copper eyes before he nodded. Bending to her, he pressed a lingering kiss against her forehead, hugged her close for a second, then released her and moved the last few steps to his foster father's side.

  Those were the hardest steps Max had ever taken, he realized as he sank down on the edge of Martin's bed and took the older man's cold, thin hand between his own. Harder than the ones that had taken him away from his birth family, harder than all the ones that had helped him cross the 270-odd miles from Los Angeles to Las Vegas, harder than the ones that had forced him to chose between fear and the new home he hadn't realized he'd needed until it had been offered to him.

  They were even harder—infinitely harder—than the ones that had taken him over the cliff and landed him heart deep in love with a half-human wildcat with a face like an angel, a body like a goddess, and an accent like Scarlett O'Hara.

  Because these steps brought him face-to-face with the greatest loss he'd ever had to endure.

  He forced himself to concentrate on his breathing—slowly, evenly, in and out—and to ignore the sharp pricking at the corners of his eyes. He wasn't ashamed to cry, but he didn't want that to be Martin's last sight of him.

  Like Kitty, Max wanted to be strong for the person who had always been strong for him.

  The warmth of Max's hands began to penetrate the cold of Martin's, to take away the worst of the chill. The older man must have noticed, because even as Max thought it, Martin's eyelids flickered and lifted and he peered up at his visitor with green eyes still as bright and vivid as springtime. But the sparkle in them was gone, and when Max saw that he knew the doctor had been right to send for him. It was nearly time.

  He didn't waste time on platitudes, didn't bother to ask how the other man was feeling. He didn't need to. Instead, he gently pressed the frail hand between his own and spoke softly. "I hear you wanted to talk to me, pa."

  Martin nodded, his head barely shifting on the pillow. "Kitty?"

  Max tipped his chin toward the end of the bed. "She's standing right there. She came here with me, but she said you and I should have time to talk alone."

  The thin, bluish lips curved as Martin sighed in satisfaction. "Knew it," he whispered. His voice was thin and weak, nothing like it had sounded yesterday when he'd threatened his natural son. "Knew she'd… turn out right. In spite of her mother… knew I was right to… leave her… with her grandparents."

  "They did a good job," Max confirmed, even though he knew he was biased. "She's strong, smart, courageous, honest." Sexier than Aphrodite herself. "Everything a man could ask for."

  Martin's gaze sharpened for a moment. "Everything… you could… ask for?"

  The question took him by surprise. He hadn't bothered to hide his attraction to Kitty, even when he'd brought her to meet her father yesterday, but Max hadn't thought he'd been that obvious. Martin had never given any indication that he'd seen—or even looked—beneath the surface. But now he waited for Max's answer with intense concentration, as if something very important depended on what he said.

  Gradually, the light dawned. "You devious old coot," Max said slowly, shaking his head in disbelief. "How in God's name did you know it would work?"

  The older man smiled, truly smiled, his happiness obvious. "Didn't," he whispered. "Hoped… took a chance… am a gambler… after all."

  "Well, you hit a royal flush this time, pa." Even Max found a smile over that. "I can't believe you set me up."

  "Good reason." Martin curled his fingers around Max's, and even though his grip was disturbingly weak, his intensity came through clearly. "Needed someone… to look after her. Some-someone… I could trust. Family… won't like it… when they find out."

  Max nodded. He already knew that. Martin had mentioned his new will earlier, the one leaving the bulk of his fortune to Kitty, and it didn't take a genius to realize that certain members of the pride wouldn't take it very well when Max claimed Kitty openly as his mate. The list of things the family wouldn't like was getting longer by the second.

  "Knew you'd… handle the pride," Martin continued, struggling to draw enough oxygen into his diseased and failing lungs. "Never worried… about that. And… maybe Kitty… won't want to… stay. But… want her… to have the choice. Family… won't give her that."

  "She'll stay," Max whispered, leaning forward and pressing Martin's hand. "I promise she'll stay. She's going to be my mate, pa. Just as soon as I get around to mentioning it to her."

  He saw the flash of joy in Martin's eyes, whether at the thought of Max and Kitty forming a mate bond or at Max's affectionate and automatic use of the Leo word for "father" he wasn't sure. It didn't matter. He felt tears sting his own. "I wish you could stick around for a while. She's going to give me beautiful cubs, pa."

  The older man pulled his hand free and lifted it until he pressed the trembling palm against Max's cheek. "Always wished… I'd been your father," he whispered.

  "You are."

  Martin smiled and patted the son-of-his-heart on the cheek. Then the frail turned his head and looked toward Kitty, standing silent at the foot of his bed. "Tell her to join us."

  Max nodded and held out his hand. Immediately, Kitty moved toward them, taking his hand in hers and letting him pull her to his side. She stood awkwardly for a
moment, but Max had other ideas. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he tugged again until she tumbled into his lap. He kept her there with a firm grip, but she must have been concerned for her father to risk struggling.

  "I wanted… to apologize," Martin began, but Kitty shook her head firmly.

  "You did that yesterday. It was enough. I'm not angry with you anymore," she reassured him.

  Her father smiled. "Not for… that," he whispered. "For… leaving so soon. I… I had hoped… we'd get more of a chance… to get to know each other."

  "Me, too."

  She reached forward and took the hand Max had warmed with his own. Lifting it gently, she bent her head and pressed a kiss against the back. Touched and proud, Max reached for her father's other hand, forming a circle among the three of them.

  Martin gazed up at the daughter he barely knew and the son he'd never had and Max could see the light of true happiness in his eyes.

  "This," the Felix mouthed, the words barely audible. "This… is the best ending… any man could want."

  Then his eyes drifted closed.

  Max heard Kitty's soft gasp and hugged her reassuringly. "It's okay," he whispered. "He's just unconscious."

  She leaned back against Max and shivered. "I suppose it's silly of me. I mean, we all know it's just a matter of time."

  "It's not silly. It's who you are."

  They sat silently for a few minutes, each holding a thin, cool hand, before Kitty stirred.

  Max looked down at her, his expression questioning.

  "I know you want to stay with him," she said softly, "but I don't know if I should. I'm sure his family is on their way, and they won't like me being here."