Wild Cat

by Christine Feehan

  "I heard more gunshots."

  "We saw a man disappearing through the connecting door, over there." He indicated the door behind her grandfather. One had to have intimate knowledge of the house to know the door existed. It looked as if it was part of the wall.

  "A man?" she echoed.

  "We were fairly certain Elijah Lospostos would retaliate, but this soon?" Paolo shook his head.

  She shook her head. Now he wanted to make her believe that she had sex with the man who murdered her grandfather. She couldn't tolerate his touch one more moment. "I need to sit down, Paolo. I think I'm going to pass out."

  He immediately led her to a chair just outside the door to the sitting room. Alonzo had already let in the police. Paolo and Alonzo immediately turned over their guns and gave their stories. She knew the bullet that had killed her grandfather wouldn't match either gun. Still, she knew Paolo and possibly Alonzo had killed him.

  The first questions the police asked after inquiring if she had seen anything or anyone were about what had happened to her to get the cuts and bruises on her face. She made up a story about working out with Paolo in the gym, boxing earlier, and she'd taken a couple of hard punches. They discovered the state-of-the-art gym complete with boxing ring and martial arts equipment and they seemed to believe her. Paolo raised his eyebrow at her and nodded as if he was pleased with her story when the detective went to him to confirm what she'd told them.

  Hours later, after answering question after question, her ribs burning and her head throbbing, after crying her eyes out until she was certain she had no tears left, her grandfather's body was gone and the detective was still talking to Paolo and Alonzo. She knew it was now or never. Paolo was watching her like a hawk. Her grandfather's murder had been about her. About her declaration that Antonio find her another man to marry because she wouldn't accept Paolo or Alonzo. She knew her grandfather had known she meant what she said and he argued with Paolo about it.

  Maybe the two men had conspired to kill her grandfather in order to take over his business. And they needed her to do it. She was directly responsible for her grandfather's death. There was no other way to look at it. She knew Paolo had mentioned that her grandfather was in a feud with Elijah Lospostos. She knew because she had been questioned closely. She denied knowing anything about it, because she didn't know they were in a feud. Only that her grandfather had sent a hit man to kill him, and no one mentioned that.

  "I'm exhausted and I need to lie down." She looked up at Paolo as if for permission. As if she were looking to him now that her grandfather was gone.

  Instantly satisfaction crept into his eyes. Solicitously he went to her, taking her arm to help her out of her chair. "The house is a crime scene, cara. You will have to sleep in the guesthouse. The detective said the gatehouse and the guesthouse can be used. You take the guesthouse. Alonzo or I will be watching over you."

  She bit her lip and looked up at the officer who had come over to stand beside her. "I'll need clothes," she said, her eyes filling with tears again. She had to allow Paolo's hands to steady her when her ribs screamed at her and her legs shook. "I don't know what I'm going to do." And she didn't. She felt more lost than ever.

  "I'll go up with you," the officer said gently. He looked compassionate.

  "Alonzo, keep an eye on her," Paolo said. The officer raised an eyebrow, and Paolo shrugged. "We're not losing her too. They shot him right under our noses."

  Alonzo trailed after them. She packed as many clothes as she could without looking suspicious. Most importantly, she packed one of her best suits, and went out to the guesthouse with the policeman and Alonzo. An idea for escape had formed. Two years earlier, on a visit home, she had overheard Paolo and her grandfather talking.

  Her grandfather had mentioned a man named Drake Donovan. The reason the conversation and name impacted her so much that she remembered was because Antonio sounded admiring. He had told Paolo that Donovan headed a security company and the man was incorruptible. He said if any of Donovan's team or Donovan himself was involved in any way in security or any of the problems the man took on, everyone else should stand down and walk away, no matter the cost of losing to him. She'd also heard that Donovan was a friend of the local billionaire, Jake Bannaconni. She had no idea where to find Donovan, but Bannaconni had offices in downtown San Antonio.

  The moment she was safely in the guesthouse, she took a long hot shower, wincing as she lifted her arms to try to cope with the mass of wild hair falling past her waist. So much of it. She thought about grabbing scissors and whacking it off, but it would only grow thicker and longer and drive her crazy, so she left it down to dry after squeezing all the water out of it with a towel. Very, very carefully, she applied makeup over her bruised, swelling eye and the lacerations at her temple. Thankfully, most of the damage Paolo had done couldn't be seen when she wore clothes.

  He would come to check on her, or Alonzo would, so she left her bag packed, slipped into the bed and waited, praying they would come while it was still dark enough for her to slip away. She couldn't drive her own car because the garage she'd parked in was attached to the house and part of the declared crime scene, but there was another garage down by the winery where the cars her grandfather collected were installed. All keys were hung in that garage and she had the password to the lock.

  She sat for a long time, her hair falling all around her, afraid to actually go to sleep. She hadn't been lying when she'd said she was exhausted, and she couldn't miss her opportunity. By tomorrow, Paolo would have her grandfather's army of men looking for him to give the commands, and he would assume that role. He would also act as if she belonged to him, and the men would take it for granted that she did.

  She tried to take a deep, calming breath, but her ribs protested and she forced herself to just sit, mapping out every move of her escape. They didn't know about her leopard. That would be her first line of escape, but she had to find a way to take clothes with her. When she heard the soft footfalls--and it was more a feeling than an actual sound--she slid between the sheets, swung her head to allow her hair to fall over her face, closed her eyes and feigned sleep.

  Paolo stood over her for a long time and then his fingers brushed at her hair with surprising gentleness. "Siena?"

  She lifted her lashes instantly, but didn't move her head. "Is something else wrong, Paolo?" Her voice trembled. She knew she gave the appearance of being broken. Fragile. Lost. Because she was. Letting him see that vulnerability aided her this time.

  "No. I'm just checking on you. The doctor said he could give you a sedative."

  "Please tell him thank you, but I'm so tired I think I'll sleep for a month. I don't want to face this. What will I do without him?" Her voice broke, and it wasn't even feigned.

  "I'll look after you, Siena. Go back to sleep."

  "Paolo? If he was a leopard, a shifter like you, won't they find out when they do an autopsy?"

  He brushed back her hair with his fingers. "Don't worry, cara, your grandfather's body will never be autopsied. There will be a fire tonight. Now, go to sleep."

  She closed her eyes obediently and was a little surprised when his thumb slid over the bruises on her face and the two cuts, as if he could erase them. She waited until she sensed he was gone and then she waited a half hour more, her heart pounding. If she did this, if she tried to escape and he caught her, he would be furious, worse than when she'd come home with Elijah's scent on her.

  She could stay. Stay with a man who beat women. Who murdered her grandfather. Who wanted her for the money and power she could bring to him. Siena threw back the covers and sat up gingerly, one arm around her middle. It wasn't happening. She'd rather die trying to get out than be forced into a situation that would be that intolerable.

  She packed her clothes, rolling them into a tight pile and slipping them inside a backpack she'd found in her closet when she was packing. That had given her the idea. She included her driver's license and credit cards and all the cash she
had in her wallet. Makeup, hairpins and a brush followed, and there was really no room for anything else.

  Stringing the backpack loosely around her neck, she stripped and moved to the window, raising it up quietly. She stood there listening. Scenting the air. She knew Alonzo was out there, on the other side of the house, by the front door. Outside the bedroom window, the manicured lawn stretched out for several feet to the strips of plants and then behind that, the wilder, bushier plants before the roses and grapes of the vineyards extending behind that.

  She called up her leopard, uncertain what she was doing. Coaxing. Needing. At once the animal responded, pushing to the forefront. Siena had forgotten the agony as the cat pushed against her sore ribs. It hurt so bad this time she saw spots on a field of black and had to blink rapidly to clear her vision.

  Then the leopard stood where the human had been, the backpack hanging around her neck, heavy, but doable. She wanted to roar with elation. Instead, she directed her female out the window and across the lawn. The cat used a slow, freeze-frame stalk, crouching low, to cross the lawn. In the distance, she caught sight of Alonzo, but the wind was blowing in the opposite direction and if he was a cat--and she suspected he must be or he wouldn't have been named by her grandfather as a possible spouse--then he could catch the female's scent if the wind shifted.

  Siena wanted to scream at the cat to hurry, but she left the leopard alone, allowing it to make its way safely across open ground. They made up time in the heavier foliage and then used the vineyard. The leopard made a wide circle, backtracking to the large building on the other side of the massive winery. She sent her leopard a million thanks, lots of warmth and shifted back to her own body. She found herself on her hands and knees, her body aching, her joints painful, but she was free--or almost. The door to the garage was right in front of her and she punched in the code without even dressing first. Once inside, she hurried to the bathroom there, dressed hurriedly in her suit, left her heels off, put her hair up, and flung the backpack on the front seat of the Mercedes.

  She grabbed the car keys, didn't bother with lights, hit the door opener and backed out, using the road that led to the back side of the property. Once she was off the estate, she drove fast, putting the hill country behind her so that she could hit the city early. She wanted to be there first thing in the morning when Jake Bannaconni got to his office. If he did. Her heart tripped double time. He had to go into work. She knew he had a helicopter pad on top of his building and used that to get to and from work. If he wasn't there, she planned to have his secretary call him. She couldn't imagine that he wouldn't know her name. Her grandfather's winery was very famous.

  She parked her car in the underground garage of Jake's building, hoping that Paolo didn't find the car right away if he was tracking her. She hoped he wouldn't realize she was gone for another few hours. Surely he would wait to let her sleep in after such a terrible trauma. She waited through dawn, to working hours, watching out for anyone coming after her. Finally, she was able to go into the building. Using the ladies' room on the lower floor to touch up her makeup and hopefully cover up most of the bruising, she stared at herself in the mirror. She barely recognized herself.

  She'd been innocent when she'd gone to Elijah's house. A woman with her master's and several other degrees and a good background in her chosen field, but still, she'd been innocent. In one night, everything had been ripped from her. Every single thing, including her self-esteem. "Who are you?" she whispered. "Because I don't know anymore."

  She lifted her chin and went to the security desk. "I don't have an appointment with Mr. Bannaconni, but please call up to his office and tell him Siena Arnotto is here and it's an emergency. I really, really need to see him. Immediately."

  That was the best she could do. The security guard at the desk looked at his consoles, into each screen as though she might be a terrorist bent on Bannaconni's destruction, then at her, the door, and lifted the phone, speaking into it briefly. When he put it down, she honestly couldn't tell if she'd been granted an audience or not. The one thing she did know was that Jake Bannaconni was in his office.

  Her leopard suddenly reacted, going on alert. She turned her head and saw two men in dark suits closing in on her. She waited.

  "Come with us." One of the men motioned her toward the elevator.

  She went with them, taking shallow breaths. Every single step seemed to jar her injured ribs. Her ribs really, really needed attention. She had bruises and knew they were still visible in spite of her makeup, because both men scrutinized her face carefully and she could see the look they exchanged. These men were not happy, and they would never believe the boxing story.

  In spite of the fact that she couldn't hide the beating she'd taken, she had dressed carefully for the occasion, her best dove gray suit, the one that made her look all business in spite of her age. Short jacket with a series of ruffles from waist to the middle of her bottom, flowing over her matching skirt with her soft pink shell. She loved that shell because she could match it to her favorite high heels, the ones that made her legs look long when they really weren't. She had put her hair up in a thick intricate braid that wound in a figure eight at the back of her head. She had armor, and right now she really needed it.

  Bannaconni's secretary looked up as the security guards walked her through the enormous outer office with its artwork and comfortable furniture. She waved her hand and reached for the phone, presumably to inform her boss she'd arrived. The man who had spoken opened the door for her, stepped back and indicated she go in alone. Siena didn't hesitate. She lifted her chin and walked in. The door closed with a soft snick and she found herself in a large corner office with glass for two walls, overlooking the city.

  The suite was so large she couldn't see into every corner, but her leopard went wild, suddenly edgy, as if she might be in danger.

  "Miss Arnotto," Jake said, standing as she entered. He indicated a chair. "Please sit down." His eyes jumped to her face and narrowed, his darkened gaze studying her carefully. "Do you need medical attention?"

  He was observant, and she knew, in spite of the fact that she tried to hide that she could only breathe shallowly, he noticed.

  She shook her head. "I don't want to waste your time, Mr. Bannaconni. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I'm grateful."

  He walked around his desk and leaned one hip against the granite top, his eyes on her face. Seeing the bruises in spite of her makeup.

  She ignored his frown. "I know that you are friends with a man named Drake Donovan, a man who runs a security company. I once heard my grandfather say he was incorruptible and if he or his men were involved in something, that everyone else should walk away. My grandfather was very admiring, and he didn't admire many people. I need to find Donovan." She didn't feel she had conveyed the urgency of the matter fully. He didn't look in the least as if he was going to help her. His expression hadn't changed. She leaned forward, her fingers twisting together until her knuckles turned white. "Immediately."

  Bannaconni studied her face. He didn't blink. The edgy restlessness began to hurt, to burn. Her temperature soared. She tried breathing the feeling away, but her ribs prevented that from working very well.

  "You'll have to do better than that, Miss Arnotto."

  "My grandfather was killed last night. Murdered. I'm not safe . . ." She broke off as her leopard leapt, surging forward. She turned her head toward the shadows.

  Elijah Lospostos walked out. He looked as gorgeous as ever. Not at all like she looked. Not as if one single thing had been ripped from his life. He walked like a jungle cat, and he stared at her bruised face with the same unblinking focus as Jake Bannaconni had.

  She was up, out of the chair and across the room instantly, shaking hand on the door. "I'm sorry. I made a terrible mistake in coming here."

  Jake Bannaconni was associates with Elijah Lospostos. That meant he was part of the underworld her grandfather had alluded to. She could barely breathe. Worse, with her
cat raging at her, and the way their eyes had changed, she feared they were also part of the shifter world.

  "Siena." Elijah said her name and her stomach lurched. She couldn't face him. She wouldn't. Not after what she'd done with him. Not after the things he'd said to her. Not after knowing that he was right and she'd been whoring herself out for her grandfather as a distraction for his hit man.

  She yanked the door open and hurried out, rushing past the secretary to the elevator. Fortunately the doors to the elevator were open, allowing her to step in and go down fast. She was terrified one of them would issue an order to stop her so she all but ran out of the building, tears swimming in her eyes, blinding her. She had nowhere to go. No one to run to. She had no idea what she was going to do.

  She wasn't looking where she was going and she ran straight into a solid body, a man standing right outside the double glass doors. He caught her arms in a viselike grip and dragged her to him. To her horror, she knew instantly who had her, without even looking. She knew his scent. She knew that fury.

  Struggling, she tried to escape as he manhandled her into a waiting vehicle. When she tried to throw herself out, he shoved hard on her belly, and then slapped her, knocking her into the vehicle and climbing in after her. The door slammed closed and the car sped away with her in it.

  4

  ELIJAH took two steps after Siena to follow her. The sight of her bruised face both infuriated and sickened him.

  "She's leopard, Elijah," Jake said. "And she's terrified. There is no way that woman was whoring herself out for her grandfather."

  "You think I didn't figure that out?" Elijah snapped. "Hell. I was so fucking pissed and my leopard was so insane I couldn't think straight. I was all over her, took her on the damn floor like an animal. When I shot Marco, I was so angry, thinking she was involved. Too angry. I should have known what was happening; I'd figured out, after Don Miguel was murdered, that Arnotto was making a move on territories, but I didn't know how he was getting away with it, making everyone drop their guard. When she showed up with the wine, I knew then."