Authors: P. Jameson
Chapter Three
The knife sliced through the onion in short, quick intervals that banged out a staccato rhythm against the cutting board. Eagan was in the zone as he whirled through the prep work for tomorrow’s meals. Normally he’d leave this job to Bailey, his assistant. But Eagan had been sticking around the kitchen more the past few days, keeping his eyes open for any clue that would reveal the thief.
Gash had beefed up the monitoring, but there’d been nothing out of the ordinary lately. No guests missing items that weren’t in the lost and found. No food had been pilfered. No people who weren’t on the guest register or employees.
But the thief would be back. And then the hunt would be on.
All the cats had been alerted. There would be plenty of shifter noses sniffing around for the bastard.
Eagan moved on to the carrots, slicing the entire bunch of them into uniform medallions.
He wondered how Magic would handle the thief when they caught him. Magic didn’t like dealing with the police. More likely, he’d scare the human half to death and send him on his way.
Layna burst through the swinging kitchen door with an annoyed look on her face. Renner’s sister was oddly like the female version of Magic. She took no shit, but she gave a lot of it. Eagan guessed it was why the two of them managed the lodge so well.
She held the cordless phone out to him. “Destiny’s calling,” she said wryly. Then one side of her mouth lifted. “I’ve been wanting to say that
forever
.”
Eagan frowned, wiping his hands on a nearby towel. “Destiny? Prego by an asshole wolf Destiny?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you know another one? Besides yours I mean. Your withered future? Your fate. Your—”
“Give me that, you smartass.” He snatched the phone from her grasp and she let out a laugh that reminded him of cartoon villain as she walked off.
Eagan pressed the receiver to his ear. “Hello.”
“Hey, Eagan, this is Destiny.” She hesitated as if gauging his memory of her.
“Knocked up pasta lover. Yeah, I remember you,” he said, sarcastically.
“Ha. Ha. I wasn’t sure if I’d made a mark.”
Destiny was a bobcat shifter mated to one of the Dirt Track Dogs from Cedar Valley, the hybrid pack that Tana belonged to now. Recently she’d become their Elder—a concept Eagan didn’t necessarily understand. The cats didn’t have wise people to guide them.
“Barely,” he said.
“Hmm. I remember you being a tad nicer when I was visiting the lodge. Maybe I’m talking to the wrong Eagan. Is there another one around?”
“Nope. Just me.” He chuckled to break the tension. He wasn’t
trying
to be an asshole. “What can I do for you, Destiny? You got a prego craving? Need the recipe for that chicken marsala?”
Pregnant. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to have a female of his own to start a family with. Sometimes at night, he let himself dream about it. A female to love, belly swollen with a baby he’d put there. No midnight craving would go unanswered. Lasagna at 2am? No problem. He’d knock that shit out before she could blink twice. Then he’d feed her. She wouldn’t even have to pick up a fork.
Eagan’s thoughts turned dark.
The cats weren’t meant to mate. Only to procreate. They weren’t meant for love. Weren’t monogamous. He’d only hurt any female he chose. He’d seen his father do it. His grandfather even. If Magic hadn’t shown him a different way, maybe he’d have done it too, sleeping with as many females as he desired.
But when he lay in his bed at night, he didn’t feel like that kind of man. He felt like he could be happy loving only one female. For his entire life. Like those goddamn dogs. Like… Renner.
“Actually, now that you mention it, I
would
like that recipe. I’ve been
dying
for just a taste…”
“You got it. I’ll have Layna email it to you.”
“But that’s not the reason I called.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, no. Um… I have a… well, I had a vision…”
Eagan braced his hip against the counter. “A vision.”
“Mm hm. A perk of the job.”
“Oh. Like a Theresa Caputo thing?”
“What? The human medium? No. It’s nothing like that.” She paused. “Well, maybe it’s a little like that. Look, I just wanted to tell you something that might come in handy soon. God, maybe this was a mistake,” she muttered.
“Wait. Your vision was about
me
?”
“Duh. You think I’d just dial you up to chat about my freaky psychic crap? Listen, you make a mean marsala, but we ain’t tight like that.”
“Agreed.” He tucked the phone against his shoulder and moved into the dining room to sit on one of the polished wood benches. “So tell me about this vision.”
“Well… I can’t. It doesn’t work like that.”
Eagan rolled his eyes. “Good god, woman. Will you tell me what you need to tell me?”
There was a harsh low growl from the other end of the line, and then Destiny’s muffled voice. “It’s okay, Diz. He’s just anxious.”
Eagan frowned.
Was
he anxious? The way he was gripping the phone made it seem like he was. Yeah, okay. He was anxious.
“Listen, okay,” Destiny rushed out. “When you find the book that doesn’t belong to you… read it.”
“What? That’s the message you have for me?”
A sigh came over the line. “I’m new at this, okay? It’s the best I’ve got. Just…
read it
.”
Eagan shook his head, completely baffled by the conversation. “Yeah, alright.”
“And send that recipe.”
“Got it.”
“And get some sleep.”
“What?”
“Meh. I figure everyone could use a little extra sleep.”
Eagan closed his eyes, exasperated. “Goodbye, Destiny.”
“See ya.”
He hung up, and set the phone on the table, leaning forward on his elbows.
What the hell kind of foreseer was Destiny anyways? Clearly she wasn’t any good at this Elder thing yet.
Eagan stared out the picture window. It was dark outside, nearing 10 pm. The only light was from the string of electric lanterns around the perimeter of the lodge. Guests and employees alike had taken to their rooms for the night.
He should get home himself. But too much time in the cabin only reminded him how alone he was. How much he was missing.
“You got a good thing going here,” Eagan murmured under his breath. And it was true. He
did
have it good here. They all did. But that didn’t keep him from wanting more.
He spun the phone on the table top, watching as it slowed to a stop before repeating the process.
A clatter from the kitchen had him jerking to attention.
“Damn it, Layna. Don’t touch my shit. I’ll put the phone up. Go to bed.”
There was no answer.
“Layna?”
Eagan stood from the bench and creeped toward the back entrance to the kitchen. He eased the door open, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Stepping in, he scanned the prep area, quickly finding the source of the noise. His heavy chef’s knife lay on the tile floor.
Eagan let out an exhausted sigh. He must’ve set it too close to the edge, causing it to fall.
He strolled over to his work station and began packaging the chopped veggies for the walk-in. As he worked, his nose burned.
“Damn onions,” he muttered to himself.
Walking to the freezer with his stack of containers, he nearly tripped over his knife. He bent to pick it up and tossed it in the wash sink. Eagan frowned as he reached for the handle of the walk-in.
There was a smudge of dirt. Not dust. Dirt. Dark, like the mud from the creek bottom. He was sure it hadn’t been there earlier. He was the only one here, and he sure hadn’t been to the creek recently.
The back of his neck prickled with the sense of danger. Their thief was here, and Eagan’s cat wanted out to fight.
Not here. Not in the lodge. No turning in the lodge
.
But before he could come up with a plan, the door to the storage closet burst open and a small dark figure shoved past him, sending the containers of onions to the floor.
“Shit!”
Eagan spun, reaching for the figure, managing to grasp one mud-covered arm. He jerked angrily, and the intruder gasped, turning to gawk at him from under the bill of a ratted baseball cap.
His breath froze in his chest.
Golden eyes fringed in long dark lashes stared back at him. Muddied round cheeks sat above the most luscious set of rose colored lips he’d ever seen. Lips that were parted in shock. And probably pain.
Fuck.
Their thief was a female.
He loosened his grip, but that was a huge mistake. Because the moment he did, she jerked away from him so hard he almost fell backward.
And then she ran.
“Wait!”
Eagan scrambled to catch her, but she was through the swinging door before he could grab her again. He pushed through, looking left and then right. There was no sign of her. But she must’ve made a run for the outdoors. She wouldn’t stay inside where she could be captured.
He rushed through the lobby and out the front, stopping on the front deck to scan the area. But there was no sign of his thief.
“Shit.”
He breathed deeply, trying to find her scent. But he only smelled the normal scents of the lodge. The werecats, the human, the forest. The deer.
He ran into the clearing where cars were parked, ducking and searching under each one. But there was no thief.
He walked the perimeter of the main building, sniffing for any change that could indicate the female. But there was nothing.
Eagan stared out into the forest. He could track her if only he had a scent. Without it, in the dark… he had nothing to go on. She was a ghost.
“
Shit
.”
His eyes caught on one of the new cameras Gash had installed, and a smile crept up his lips. He’d go now, and find her with the cameras. What were the chances she’d escaped them all?
Running for the front door, he bounded into the lobby and stopped short.
There, on the polished wood floor, was an old notebook with a pen sticking out of the spine. Eagan bent to examine it. It was small, about the size of a 5x7 picture, and the edges of the cover were worn and dirty and curling from use.
It hadn’t been there when he’d run through minutes ago.
He picked it up, bringing it to his nose and breathing in deep. Ah, yes. A smile curved his lips. This belonged to her. And damn, was his thief smart.
He shook his head in disbelief.
Not only had she anticipated he’d run outside first, she’d found an ingenious way to mask her scent so she couldn’t be tracked.
He stared at the notebook, turning it in his fingers. His only clue. This, however, was an accident.
This
would get her caught.
Eagan stood, and when he did, Destiny’s words came back to him.
Fucking hell.
When you find the book that isn’t yours… read it
.
Oh, he’d read it alright. He was going to find his thief before she could do anymore damage.
Chapter Four
She shouldn’t have gone near the onions. But they were the red kind, and it’d been so long since she’d smelled fresh chopped onions. Who knew she’d miss
that
.
Damn it.
Now she was stuck here indoors.
Inside
the lodge. Where she could be caught. And this time, if she was arrested she’d actually be charged for the crime.
Dread slammed her hard. She squeezed her eyes closed in fear.
Stealing. That’s what she’d really been doing all this time. Taking what wasn’t hers in order to survive. Because she couldn’t bear the thought of being part of the real world.
She was a thief. And no matter how much she liked to think of herself as Robin Hood, she wasn’t.
Her only saving grace was that she intended on paying it back. Someday. When she was ready to emerge from the woods and face reality.
If
she was ever ready. She kept meticulous records. Every last thing she’d ever taken was written down.
She pushed her guilt to the back of her mind. Right now she had to focus on getting out of this place. She’d noticed the tightened security. Noticed the new cameras. They’d prevented her from going to the guest rooms. And she’d had to find a new way into the lodge. Which hadn’t been hard. She wondered if they knew their alarm system was down.
Whatever. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell them.
Slipping past the lobby was easy. There was only one camera in the far corner by the door. From there, she found another short hallway that seemed to be clear of any recording devices. She avoided the door marked office and kept going. If she could find an open room with a window… on this side of the building, she could just climb out and slip into the trees.
She tried the next door, and it was locked. One that looked like a storage closet, and it was locked too. Finally she came to a set of double doors. The frosted glass and etched lettering that read SPA seemed too modern for the wood on wood country feel of the lodge. Testing the handle, it opened.
She frowned, surprised. Why was this door the only unlocked one in the hall?
Clara stepped back. What if someone was in there. What if she was trapping herself inside. What if—
The sound of a door slamming and footsteps made the decision for her. She cranked the handle and stepped inside hoping against hope that she’d find herself alone in the spa.
It was dark inside, the light of the moon filtering in through the wood framed glass walls. She was quiet for several seconds, listening for any sign that someone was around, but it appeared she was alone.
Laughter from outside the spa had her scrambling for a hiding spot. She ducked under a counter just as the door swung open.
“Ren! Just give me a second, okay? I forgot to lock up,” a female voice managed through a round of giggles.
“I don’t want to give you a second, Bethy.” The response was male and husky with desire.
Clara rolled her eyes. Damn it all. If she got stuck in here waiting for some stupid couple to finish making out, she was going to barf.
“Layna’s watching Rhys and every time I see you standing here in this place…” An odd sound erupted from his throat. Like a cat purring, but rougher. The soft sounds of kissing drifted to Clara’s ears. “This is where it all started,” he whispered. “I fucking love seeing you in here. I want you now. Like this. Against the counter.”
God, no. Please, no.
The woman moaned and Clara crossed her fingers that they weren’t about to get it on with her right there in the room.
“Renner…” The plea was followed by a yelp and more giggling.
Good god. Didn’t these lovebirds have a curfew?
A sharp whoosh indicated the door opening.
“Shit,” the man cursed. “Damn it, Eagan. Ever think about knocking.”
“On the spa?”
Clara froze. It was the man from the kitchen. The one with beautiful eyes. Stormy eyes. The one who’d been chopping the onions. The one who’d seen her.
“No. I can’t say it ever occurred to me.”
“Well, maybe it should occur to you next time.”
“Maybe next time, you should get a room.” There was a loud hiss and then Eagan laughed. “Just saying.”
“What are you doing in here?” the horny guy asked.
“Thought I heard something. Just thought I’d check.” He sounded disturbed, and Clara realized he’d probably thought the noise was her.
“Oh, no,” the woman murmured concerned. “Was it the thief again? Have things gone missing?”
Clara’s stomach cramped. The thief. They were talking about her.
Eagan with the stormy eyes hesitated. “Nah. No, I’m just keeping my ears open lately. You guys see anything?”
“No,” the woman said. “Nothing since the meeting last week. Magic said we should watch out, but everything seems normal around here.”
Clara couldn’t breathe. He’d lied. Why? Why hadn’t he given her up?
“Do you…” her boyfriend began, sounding confused. “Do you scent…
doe
?”
Shit. The hunting attractant was useful as long as she was in and out quick. But trapped in a room…
“Oh, uh… yeah,” Eagan laughed. “It’s this notebook.”
Notebook. Clara scrunched her face up. The shit just kept hitting the fan.
Please don’t let it be mine
.
“It smells like a deer?” the woman asked, skeptically.
“Yeah. Weird, huh?”
The other man grunted. “What is it?”
“Something for the lost and found,” Eagan muttered. “You guys locking up or what?”
“Yep,” the woman said. “Let’s go.”
There was some rhythmic electronic beeping and then the door clicked shut and Clara could hear their fading conversation down the hall. She counted to ten, just to be sure they were gone. And then she rushed to shrug her bag from her shoulders.
Please, oh please…
But right away her fears were confirmed. The thin material of her backpack was gaping on the bottom right corner. She’d caught it on something. Or maybe it had ripped when the cook grabbed her.
“Damn it,” she breathed and then smacked her palm over her mouth. No talking. Not even a whisper. If there was a cat man around, she couldn’t chance that he’d hear her. And with the purring and talk of scenting… maybe they were all cat-men. And women. Maybe she’d stumbled onto a different realm. Like The Labyrinth or something.
Stop it. Stop thinking crazy. You aren’t crazy. Being alone doesn’t make you crazy
.
Clara nodded to herself. She wasn’t crazy.
Digging in her backpack, she found one of her notebooks. But sure enough, the other was missing. A sinking feeling came over her and her hands shook as she peeled back the cover to see which one she’d lost.
Today was a good day…
No. No, no, no.
Tears pricked her eyes, threatening to overspill and run down her muddy cheeks.
This was her journal. This was the least important of the two books. She
needed
that other book. Without it… without it she couldn’t live with herself.
Shaking, she tried to think. There had to be a way to get it back. The lost and found. The cook said he was putting it in the lost and found. Maybe she could find it. Clara looked around. The spa afforded her an opportunity to get clean. Could she clean up enough to look like a guest? Could she walk up to the front desk and ask for the lost and found? Without freezing up. Without appearing like a bedraggled forest urchin?
She hadn’t spoken to another human in six years. Only her skink and the other animals. And herself. God.
But she had to try. She had to get her book back. It was crucial.
Okay.
Okay, she was doing this.
Clara nodded, closing her backpack and tying the strap around the end so she wouldn’t lose anything else. She crawled from under the counter and made her way carefully to the back of the spa where the showers were. The dim track lighting offered her enough glow to get a picture of her surroundings.
A small row of lockers painted a soothing blue stood outside the door. She tested one and it opened. Inside was a blue sweater and a pair of white slacks. The pants wouldn’t fit her, but the shirt might work.
The wall behind her was lined with shelves full of product. Clara scanned the array of shampoos, body washes, and lotions. Her eyes landed on an herbal hair removal remedy. She squinted as she read the instructions on the back. She was skeptical that it could work on her coarse, dark leg hair, but she was desperate. Her search for a razor had resulted in nil.
She tucked it into her elbow and grabbed some shampoo, conditioner, and soap from the shelf before ducking into the shower room.
Clara stopped just inside the door, gawking at the elaborate setup. Three stalls lined one wall, each with mosaic tiled doors framed in smooth river rock. Carefully, she set her things on the nearby bench and took a deep breath. She could do this. It was a shower. How hard could it be?
Stepping forward, she pulled on the handle of the middle stall. It came open with a snap, making her jump at the noise.
She kept still. Listening. Everything was quiet.
Pulling the door all the way open, she examined the inside. Okay, so it was your typical slide-on faucet. No funky computer mojo. She could handle that.
Clara stepped back and caught sight of herself in the mirror that took up the entire wall opposite the shower. What she saw choked her heart in her chest. That couldn’t be her. Could it? She’d seen her reflection in dark windows and in the calm of the streams she bathed in, and it hadn’t seemed so… frightening.
She took a step forward and the reflection moved too.
She was thicker than she’d been a few months ago. She knew because her clothes fit tighter. And it made sense as she was prepping for the winter. But she was much thinner than when she’d last looked at herself in a mirror.
She removed the ball cap she’d used to hide her hair. The dull brown stuff that tumbled out looked like burnt straw.
Clara’s eyes searched frantically for anything that looked like her. Anything that she could connect with. Something that would make her think
that’s me
.
Her face was covered in mud that she’d put there in order to blend more fully into the night. But her lips maybe. Yeah, maybe they were familiar. They’d always been full. Kissable, her sister had called them.
Somehow she found her eyes, her gaze clashing with the mirror’s.
There. There she was.
That’s me
.
The thought was reassuring. It calmed her. No matter what she looked like, no matter how long she’d been away from civilization, she was still her. Clara Destacio.
Reaching up, she fingered her straw hair. It had grown long. Nearly to her waist. Maybe the spa quality product would help tame it.
With a sigh, she stripped off her muddy clothes, shoving the shirt and cap in a nearby trashcan. Once again, she’d have to salvage her jeans. Her boots and socks, she tucked in a corner by the bench.
Reaching into the shower, she turned on the water to let it get warm. When it came to temperature, she gingerly stepped into the stall, bringing the soap with her. But as soon as she did, water began shooting in pulsating streams starting from her head and moving down her body.
A yelp clawed its way up her throat but she stifled it with her hand.
The shower was motion activated.
Clara pressed her hand to her chest, willing her heart to remember its normal rhythm. She needed to hurry in case someone noticed the noise from the shower. She didn’t know for sure how insulated this room was. And getting caught with her pants down would be the ultimate embarrassment.
But the water felt so damn good. With the hot springs that were abundant in this area of Arkansas, she had warm water to bathe with. But a shower… water spraying over her body like warm summer rain… that was a privilege she didn’t get often.
She let the vacillating streams wash the mud and smelly junk from her body. Staring at the tile beneath her feet she watched as the water went from mucky brown to clear. Then she went to work on her hair. She washed it twice with the sweet smelling shampoo before coating it in conditioner and letting it rest while she tackled her legs.
Following the instructions, she mixed the herbal powder into a paste and rubbed it over her legs, keeping them out of the stream of water. She was supposed to wait ten minutes but maybe it’d work faster. Ten minutes more under the shower seemed risky.
While she waited, she thought about her situation. Eagan The Cook. He was handsome as the sun was hot. He probably knew it too. She’d known many guys like him in her former life. Had relationships with some. It wasn’t anything she missed. Relationships. Not with her family. Not with her friends. And certainly not with any muscle bound hormone-ridden hot heads.
He was the only one who knew what she looked like. For whatever reason, he’d kept her break-in to himself. If she could avoid him, surely she could get her book back. It would be quick-like. She’d be back at her camp before she knew it.