She needed space to think. If Silver couldn’t summon sanity again, that changed everything.
Felicia thumped down the stairs and hesitated at the bottom. Privacy was never assured in a pack house. Or around it, for that matter, but her chances of space to think outside were at least better. She headed for the front door. She could use airing out the car as her excuse. Since it was a pack car, to be polite she’d meant to return later and check the perfume had dissipated anyway.
Felicia opened the car door and collapsed to sit sideways on the passenger seat, one foot propped on the curb. The more she thought about it, the more what she’d heard drew over her like clouds covering the Lady’s face, stealing her voice.
Silver might actually get arrested, might actually get locked up for being crazy. She’d been so Lady-damned pleased with herself for nudging Enrique into that plan, and now it seemed it would actually work.
But she’d found out before they’d put the plan into action. She clung to that glimmer of the Lady’s light. She could still do something about it.
Felicia shoved to her feet, slammed the door, and circled the car to the driver’s side. She needed to call Enrique immediately and at least try to stall him somehow. That needed absolutely assured privacy. She drove across the closest arterial to park along a side street the pack would have no reason to travel or glance down. She opened her address book to Enrique’s entry but stopped herself before she connected the call. He couldn’t get Silver arrested in the next two minutes. He was relying on Felicia’s help anyway. Better she plan out what she was going to say, and not sound breathless and panicked.
When she had it straight in her mind, she dialed his number. When he answered, his greeting sounded suspicious. “Has something happened?”
“No.” Felicia licked her lips and closed her eyes to aid her composure. She wanted to sound absolutely nonchalant about this. “I’ve been thinking about your plan. Isn’t it too risky for the Were as a whole to have her talking to the police? When she’s babbling, who knows what she might say that would get someone thinking.”
Enrique snorted a laugh. “Felicia, I thought better of you. Your white tail is showing.” Like a rabbit or deer as it ran away, he meant. “That’s a pitiful excuse. No. We go ahead with the plan, or I show your pack the proof of where your loyalties really lay.”
“Lie,” Felicia corrected without thinking, and then wanted to release a hysterical giggle. Lady. It all came back to those stupid e-mails. Why did Madrid have to be so good at forgery, so they were so very believable? Why did she have to be so stupid as to lie for and get drunk with someone she couldn’t trust?
“Do you want me to do that?” Enrique gave Felicia several beats of silence, and when she didn’t answer, she heard his smile in his voice. “That’s what I thought.
Felicia ended the call, tossed the phone on the seat beside her, and clenched her hands on the steering wheel to stop herself shaking. She shouldn’t have called him. She should have known she wouldn’t change his mind, and now she’d verified for him how good his hold was on her.
Fine. Felicia slapped her hands on the sides of the steering wheel, repeated the word out loud. He had a hold on her, but she was still working against him. Felicia took a few deep breaths to try to think logically. She needed delaying tactics, not direct opposition, which would send Enrique to the pack with his “proof.”
They had to get Silver to go into the house where she’d be trespassing, and it would have to be Felicia who led her there. Silver would never follow a stranger anywhere. Felicia could lead Silver to the wrong place, somewhere she’d be stopped before she even got inside, but that would also be too obvious.
It came to her like frightened and confused prey bolting the right direction directly into your jaws. She could get herself grounded. All she’d have to do is mouth off a little. Then she wouldn’t be able to lead Silver anywhere.
But what would piss Silver off, without getting Felicia kicked out of the house or the pack completely? She knew her father’s buttons intimately, but Silver’s anger was usually deep and hidden and creepy, not something Felicia could chart easily.
Felicia hiccupped with laughter as a crazy idea occurred to her. Why not a pet? Bringing home something weak and preylike that no one was supposed to eat was dumb enough to piss off any Were. Plus, it seemed like just the kind of thing she might have done when she was younger to prove that she could do whatever she wanted.
Felicia started the car and pulled away, anxious to put her counter to Enrique in motion as soon as possible. She knew where the animal shelter was, she’d passed it often enough when driving around.
When she arrived at the shelter and pushed in the front doors, the vet’s office came uncomfortably to mind. The shelter had the same kind of linoleum and the same smell of cleaners and animals packed close together. Felicia bit her lip and tilted her chin up. That didn’t matter. She was doing this. She went right up to the counter and told the shelter employee, a woman with gray in her enthusiastically curling hair, that she wanted to adopt.
Of course, when the woman asked what kind of animal Felicia wanted, she had to think fast. Not a dog. That was just weird. They looked too much like people, but stupid, but still people … Apparently the shelter had rabbits too, which Felicia also immediately discounted. She’d want to eat one if she brought it home, never mind the rest of the pack. But a cat seemed right. The gray-haired woman smiled and gestured her through the doorway beside the counter. She met Felicia on the other side to accompany her.
Felicia had known from the smell that the animals were immediately behind the door, but she hadn’t realized she’d have to walk through the dogs to get to the cats. Both sides of the hall had floor-to-ceiling chain link, with the fenced-off area divided into individual runs for a dozen or more dogs. Felicia didn’t have time to count because the moment they caught her scent, they all simultaneously launched themselves at the fence. Some were wagging their asses off, ready to play, some wanted to challenge her—she supposed she should be grateful that none of the males were intact, to want to mate with her—but they all barked.
The employee put her hands over her ears and stared around her. “They don’t usually do this, except for new animals, I don’t understand—” She had to almost shout to be heard.
Felicia held her hands open. “I did cook bacon earlier today—” She kept her body language as unthreatening as she could without a tail or ears she could move, but the barking just went on and on.
“Shut up!” she finally shouted, and followed it with a bark of her own, channeling her father at his most alpha. She was the high-ranked one here, and they would listen to her, by the Lady. The dogs shut up. She breathed a sigh of relief in the blessed silence afterward.
Of course, then the employee was staring at her. “I saw it on one of those pet psychic shows,” Felicia said hurriedly. “You have to sound like them so they understand you, you know?” She moved on to the next door, the employee trailing uncertainly behind. The last dog on the right, a barrel-chested Lab mix, wagged his tail and grinned at her, as if to say, “Sorry about those noisy morons. Nice to meet you.” Felicia laughed.
The cats had a room of their own, two walls filled with smaller built-in cages, stacked four high. The cats were much quieter about their disapproval, but she could smell the stink of it when she entered. Only one hissed at her, but several more pressed themselves into the back of their cages.
The employee faded to the background, rattling around with empty food dishes in a sink at the back. Felicia bent in front of the bottom cages one after the other. You saw pictures of kittens cuddling with dogs all the time. One of these would accept her, right? Especially a young one without any bad experiences with dogs yet.
On the second row up, a young cat blinked at her from its flop right against the cage bars and then yawned, showing teeny pointed teeth. It was older than Felicia had thought of getting, but it was still small and leggy in a way that told her it wasn�
��t done growing yet.
Indifference seemed promising, given the other cats’ reactions. Felicia crouched to put her face level with that cage. The cat was somewhat fluffy, with little fur feathers on its ears and between its toes, but the color was what caught her attention. The cat had stripes, but not in the stark light and dark gray Felicia expected. Its coat had a smoky, almost purplish cast, the stripes darker bands of the same shade. She hadn’t seen a cat colored like that before, not that she’d ever particularly paid attention to cats. Smart felines stayed away from Were houses.
The association with smoke made Felicia think of what Silver had called her when Tom was hurt. That seemed as close to a sign as you ever got in this world, so she stood. “This one,” she told the employee.
By the time Felicia made it out of the building with her cardboard carrier, she never wanted to see, never mind fill in, another form again. She’d had to lie to the woman in answer to all the questions about her “readiness” to adopt, and whether the kitten would suit her household and lifestyle. In the end she’d resorted to looking the woman in the eye and acting high ranked. It was a rare human who didn’t accept a Were’s word with that backing.
And it had cost more than she’d thought too. With Enrique around, she’d completely forgotten how the neglected job search meant no income until she got a job or her father got home and could be talked into extending her allowance a little.
She set the box on the passenger seat, climbed in, and opened the top just enough for little feathered ears and then a little fluffy head to pop up. “I’m sorry in advance,” she told the cat seriously. It sniffed in all directions and then focused on the fingers she offered. “But it’ll only be a few weeks, and then I’ll give you back. Think of it like a vacation, huh?”
The cat scraped its cheek along her fingers and then gathered itself to spring out of the carrier. Felicia hurriedly closed the box and made sure the cardboard tabs were seated securely. Hopefully the cat wouldn’t be too traumatized at the end of two weeks, but it seemed so mellow she was cautiously hopeful.
When she arrived at the house, Felicia didn’t even make it to the stairs before Tom thumped in, eyebrows high behind his shaggy bangs. “What in the Lady’s name—?”
The cat changed position suddenly, throwing off the balance of the box and forcing Felicia to grab the handle with both hands. “It’s a cat. You’re aware of the species, I assume.”
Tom came close as if to take the box and open it, but Felicia twisted to keep it out of reach. “But … why?”
He seemed honestly confused, not accusing, so Felicia bit back a retort. “I liked it,” she said and tried to detour around him. If she could just get it to her room without everyone gawking—but people were starting to wander up already, as the scent of the new animal drifted around the house.
Silver didn’t bother with wandering or otherwise disguising her entrance. She strode straight into the front hall and gestured for Felicia to open the box for her.
“Roanoke,” Felicia said, and set the box on the floor. Her residual perfume and the cat smell made it hard to read Silver when she wanted to know every nuance of the woman’s emotions. She wanted Silver to be angry, but not too angry. Nervousness made her smash the tabs as she opened the box.
The cat led with its nose as it appeared above the rim. “Why is this here?” Silver asked, her own chin tipped a little as she sniffed too. “You don’t intend it to be a toy, do you?” She fixed a piercing look on Felicia.
Felicia shook her head emphatically. Were who would enjoy hunting something bred to be too trusting to run away at first were disgusting. “No, the shelter had an event. I saw it and I liked it. For a pet, not a toy.” The part about the cat not being prey was true at least. For the rest, including the nonexistent event, she was lucky for the perfume.
Silver crouched to look the cat in the eyes. It flicked its ears idly and said mrp, which didn’t sound anything like what Felicia thought meows were supposed to be. “And you thought it would be a good idea to have a pet in a pack house?” Her face was neutral, but her tone was cutting.
“I’ll keep it out of trouble.” Of course, the moment Felicia said that, the cat grew bored with just looking around. It jumped right up over the high box side and streaked for the living room.
Silver snagged it by the scruff as it passed and held it far enough out to avoid claw swipes from all four paws. “See that you do.” She straightened, dropped the animal into Felicia’s arms, and continued deeper into the house. The cat squirmed and scored Felicia along her upper arm and collarbone before she got it into a position where she could hold its paws down.
Tom came over and set his hand over the cat’s whole head like he didn’t quite see how to scratch behind ears so diminutive. The cat made the mrp sound again. “Are you trying to piss off Roanoke Silver?”
“Silver can deal.” Felicia escaped upstairs before she could see Tom’s shock. She hadn’t thought this would be so hard. She hadn’t really expected that Silver would set eyes on the cat and ground her instantly, but if faking this attitude was hard now, how hard would it be to keep it up long enough to get Silver to that point? She clenched her jaw as she lugged the cat into her room and shut the door. It didn’t matter. It was her fault she was in this situation, so she would do whatever was necessary to get out of it.
14
Felicia did have to give the stupid cat this: she didn’t have any time left to brood, she was run so ragged trying to keep up with it. She left it locked in her room while she went and bought its litter and food, and returned home to find it yowling continuously at her door. “Poisonous” hardly did justice to the looks she gathered from the rest of the pack.
While she set up the litter box, the cat jumped from the bed to her dresser and nearly missed, knocking off everything it could reach as it scrabbled for purchase and scratched the wood. It lulled her into a false sense of security by hiding under the bed for a while, so that the next time she left, it streaked through the door and disappeared into the house.
Felicia tracked it by the cursing and finally ran it to ground in the nursery, where it had stopped to sniff at Edmond, who was on the floor enthusiastically running over his farm animals with his tractor. “Hello, kitty,” he said and made a wide-armed hugging grab for it, as he would his puppy.
The cat apparently objected greatly to being hugged. Before Felicia realized what was happening, Edmond screamed and the cat squirmed away, leaving blood from a quickly healed scratch along his arm. Edmond stomped after it, murder in his eyes, trying to grab little handfuls of fur to yank. “Mean Lunch!”
Felicia caught the cat and lifted it out of his reach. “Don’t touch, Edmond!” She doubted he could hear her over the sound of his screaming. When she didn’t hand him the cat for his revenge, he beat his fists on her knees.
“Edmond!” Susan arrived and scooped up her howling son much as Felicia had done the cat. She examined him and smeared the blood with her thumb to check no wound remained beneath it. Only then did she take in the rest of the situation.
Felicia swallowed. Susan was someone she liked too much to want to piss off as collateral damage. “I’m sorry, he just—”
“I see that,” Susan said with a quiet laugh. Felicia wondered if, as a human, she understood cats better. Maybe she would have predicted this would happen. She adjusted her hold on Edmond to speak to him. “Cats don’t like to be squeezed, sweetie. You have pat them, okay? If they want to be patted. This cat is new, so it’s probably scared, so it doesn’t want to be patted right now.”
“I wanted to hug Lunch,” Edmond whined and pressed his head against his mother’s chest.
Felicia choked, but Susan just rolled her eyes. “Who told you it was named that?”
“Pack Uncle Pierce,” Edmond muttered after a long pause where he apparently had to decide whether he wanted to answer.
Felicia was unsurprised. It wasn’t that the others weren’t all thinking it, it was that Pierce had t
he edged sense of humor that would make him actually say it. The cat had been actively resisting her since she picked it up, but when she adjusted her grip, it finally relaxed, content to be held. Felicia looked down at it, frowning. Maybe this was the way cats were supposed to be held, one hand under their back legs, one hand under their upper body, and it liked that.
“The cat’s not named Lunch. It’s named—”
Susan looked at Felicia, but Felicia was more concerned with Silver’s appearance in the doorway, so the silence stretched long and awkward. She’d thought of calling it Smoke, but it seemed weird to say that now with Silver standing right there.
“Morsel,” Silver said, deadpan.
“Morrie,” Susan told her son. “But you can’t touch it while it’s still scared, okay? It’s going to go away now.” She gave Felicia a pointed look, and she took the hint.
Silver stepped aside to allow her out of the nursery but blocked her way farther down the hall. “Strange definition of keeping out of trouble you have. I don’t think you’re ready for this responsibility, Felicia.”
Felicia didn’t take a deep breath, because that would show, but she took a firmer grip on the cat and prepared herself internally. This seemed like a good opening. Maybe she wouldn’t have to keep this up too long after all.
Lady grant her luck. “Are you sure you don’t want to check with my father on that?”
Silver went very still. “I am your alpha.”
“An alpha who can’t even drive. Or make her own phone calls. Or use a credit card. Or hold down a job like I’m supposed to do. Strange definition of an alpha.” Felicia prayed as she said it. Lady forgive her.
She’d thought Silver had been still before, but that was nothing compared to now. “You have one chance to apologize, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”
Felicia desperately wanted to run, and her tension transmitted to the cat, which started to squirm again. “I’m sorry, Roanoke, for saying what’s true.”
Reflected Page 17
