Hunting the She-Cat

Hunting the She-Cat

By

Jacki Bentley

(C) Copyright by Jacki Bentley, August
2012

(C) Cover Art by Eliza Black, August
2012

ISBN 978-1-60394-721-3

Published by New Concepts
Publishing

Smashwords Edition

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.store.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All
characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and
not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

The female was pretty.

While she was still unaware of his
presence, Lugar stood in the open door to her office and watched
her.

Her desk was oriented at an angle to
the door offering a full view. Standing, legs spread slightly, she
rifled through her desktop papers, making noise, looking urgently
for something.

Tall, but fine-boned and delicate, she
held herself well, elegant and regal in a red blouse and trim black
trousers. Caramel hair fell in large, rolling curls at her
shoulders.

There was an edge of efficient
toughness he expected from one of their kind. The air of it
emanated from her as she worked. She gave off a sense of focused
calm and quiet serenity, a feeling of capability.

No one besides another Homo tigon could
stand unseen at her door. He’d lay his life on that.

His blood rose. An urge to see her in
her natural feline shape came over him.

He sucked in air, striving for
control.

Closing the door behind him, he turned
the lock. The scraping snick seemed to echo into the room, loud and
final.

She jerked, then raised her head to the
air at the noise -- the only sign he’d startled her.

“Leave the door open,” she ordered. She
unconsciously fingered the gold necklace she wore at her attractive
neck.

Good. She was not cowed by finding a
strange male in her domain then, a sign of her strength and
courage.

“I need to speak with you alone,” he
said. “No one can hear.”

“I prefer it open.” She walked past him
in a feminine huff to see to it herself, unlocked and pushed the
door open with more force than necessary.

The scent of her weakened his
knees.

“As you wish.” He grinned, an effort to
reassure her.

“Do you have an appointment,
sir?”

“No.”

“How may I help you then? I expect a
real client any moment.”

“I am real enough.”

“Poor choice of words. A scheduled
client will be here very soon.” She looked to her shiny wrist band
time log.

“It is I who will help you,
female.”

She raised a brow skeptically, haughty,
doubting his words. A wave of anger at her unwelcoming demeanor
came, but he suppressed it fast as illogical. She did not know him.
He was being reactive. Off balance from her unexpected appeal. An
argument with her would not serve his mission.

“I have no idea who you
are.”

“I came for you. It’s past
time.”

She stiffened. Her amazing golden eyes
went as cold as those of a hunting cat. “For me? I must have
misunderstood.” Now shaking her head, the soft-looking curls
bounced. “Did you say you came for me?”

“You should know we’d come for you,
that your kind would not leave you here forever.” He took a couple
of strides to her. “Do you not sense the difference in me? That I
am like you. Like your true nature. You are the lost she-cat. I
came for you.”

The female sniffed the air, nostrils
flared slightly, and then stepped back away from him, lovely eyes
going wide with comprehension and shock, which to her credit, she
hid fast behind stubbornness.

“Yes, that’s it. Use your sense of
smell. It will always serve you well.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking
about.”

She did something with her hair then,
tucking it roughly behind a tiny ear. Charming. He saw more of her
silken jaw line now.

“None,” she added for
emphasis.

“Do you not have times when you seek
the wilds, pretty eyes? Times when the need to run free takes over,
calling to your very blood. The need to hunt victims in the
dark?”

“Hey.” She shook her head violently
now. “I have enough problems of my own today without your puzzles,
Mister. In this law office, we help victims here.”

Frustration beat at him. She should
know who she was. Either she was a good liar or she did not
know.

“Can you tell me you never feel
different than the humans around you?”

Her time here may have driven her
she-cat nature under, repressed it.

Watching her closely, he continued,
“We’d wondered how long the team lived, how long they’d had to
teach you the complex ways of cat shapers.”

She held up a hand clearly asking him
to stop. “Already said I have no idea what you’re talking about. I
have no idea who sent you to play this joke on me, but it’s time
you left.”

“At least you must accept this much,
little feline. We are both cats, you and I.” Lugar smiled his most
affective and charming smile. He hoped.

Her eyes narrowed but she did not
reward him with a returned grin as he expected. Instead, her petite
face turned as hard as stone.

“I’ve traveled far to reach you. I will
escort you home today.”

“I have two more clients today, even if
I allowed strangers to escort me home, I could not
today.”

“Stop this obtuse resistance,” he
ordered. “You know I do not speak of home here on this world,
Earth.”

She moved a black notebook around her
desk. “I have no idea what you mean,” she repeated. But her eyes
betrayed her knowledge. Some knowledge, however sparse was there in
her green gaze.

“Interesting. Perhaps you’ve forgotten
then. Your journey here was long, long ago.”

“I made no journey.”

“You cannot lie to me, sweet one.” He
tried to remain calm and soothing but it became more and more
difficult with each passing moment. Was it possible the little
she-cat had lost all of her memory of her past, of their world?
She’d been only five years old when the mission was lost. Or
perhaps the trauma of her difference from the humans caused her to
deny it even to herself.

“You are a feline shapeshifter from
Eliava moon of the Aldeen Galaxy. Our people are advanced in
culture and technology. We’ve flown the black of space for many
generations now. It has taken too long to get back for
you.”

“No. No. No.”

“Hear me. Two hundred and seventeen
years ago, an exploration team landed many … er …,” he struggled
for the word for distance she knew. Miles. “Many miles southeast of
here, in a place the native people called Tenasi. With you aboard.
As a five year old child.”

She shook her head vigorously but a
spark of curiosity flared in her eyes. Then they darkened with
determination.

“Impossible. I am from Tennessee, but
I’m not the one you speak of. No. No one can live hundreds of
years. No one.” She waved a hand as if seeking words. “This lost
cat shaper … er … shifter … woman from another world is not
me.”

“You are.”

She was. He knew it because, from the
exact landing site of their team many years ago, he’d tracked her
to this city called, Chicago. The scent had been old and faded in
places. She’d traveled hundreds of miles from the remote woodlands
chosen for the landing. No doubt about it, he’d found the correct
female. The scent of their kind was all over her.

“Listen to me,” she said in hushed
tones. “You cannot go around talking this way. Someone will throw a
straight jacket on you and lock you up. With my luck today, they’ll
take me with you. I lost a tough case today, one I needed to win.
One the global environment needed me to win, dammit.”

“Good, you fight for the habitat of
all. Good.” On her mother’s side she was of the Wood clan. A female
of her power could bring a sea change to his turbulent homeworld.
“The Homo tigon species and Eliava can use such fervor
too.”

“Eli … what?”

The female looked as if a memory
stirred.

“The name of our world is Eliava. I can
see it’s familiar to you.”

“No.”

“But you know the name, pretty one.”
She knew the word. “It may be a dim memory, but you know it. I see
that you do. Say it for me.”

“Eliava.”

Satisfaction burned through him as she
did as he’d ordered, even in such a small thing. His masculine ego
roared with the thrill of the accomplishment. But now he watched
her rock back on her heels and turn from him.

She spun back rapidly. “You.” She shook
a delicate finger. “Do not look at me that way.”

“How do I look at you?” He gave her
another flirty smile. He hoped the smile came of as flirty and not
even more threatening.

“As if you will devour me whole, that’s
how.”

“Not so. I can’t do so in this human
form.”

“Forget I said that.”

Lugar threw back his head and laughed
at her perception. “Indeed, I’d like to do just that,
female.”

“Stop calling me things, like ‘female’
and ‘honey’ and ‘pretty’. Stop it now. I can almost hear you purr.
No one calls me ‘honey’. I’m not sweet. I’m not nice. I’m a
lawyer.”

Her frown was so damn fierce. Any other
male with good sense would step away.

Suddenly uncomfortable in the blasted
human skin, Lugar flexed and rolled his shoulders. The furless skin
caused him to think, to feel, to want this stranger, to need to
bring her to him. Too much raw sensation crawling across his naked
skin. Not enough of the cat’s natural sharp instincts in this shape
for his own protection. He wasn’t good in social situations with
human forms, never had been. Not even with other shifter females,
as he knew her to be. She could deny it all week but he knew
it.

To relax and calm himself, he spread
his palms, flexing and arching his fingers. How he wanted to let
them morph to claws and walking pads.

Wary and alert, the female followed the
movement of his hands as if tantalized by it, curious in spite her
better judgment.

He could use that.

He took a step toward her, held out a
hand, palm out in invitation. “You must come with me. Now. There is
need of urgency. And no time for long explanations. We waste our
time with talking this way. We have a limited window of travel
time.”

The glimpse of interested female
vanished and she placed her hand on a tiny square thing, flipping
it open and clutching it like a lifeline.

“Wait.”

She stilled, curiosity sparking again
in her vibrant golden eyes. She closed the thing back. “Alright,
alright. Tell me why you’ve sought me out? The truth this time. Are
you from a newspaper or something? I have enemies in the legal
community, not many, but a few would like to embarrass
me.”

Exasperation whipped through him. He
was done with explaining. She could believe his story or not.
Apparently she wanted answers but didn’t like the ones she’d
received.

“The truth should never
embarrass.”

She pushed a weary hand through her
hair causing it to tumble and bounce. “But sometimes it
does.”

“Megisha, hear me. I’m not your --” He
halted. To go so far as to say he was not her enemy might not be
the entire truth.

“My name is Misha.”

“You misunderstand. Megisha is from our
language, a term for an innocent maiden.”

“Whoa, I am no maiden, buddy. I’ve had
my share of relationships.”

Hell, he’d somehow offended her female
pride.

He lowered his voice. “It can also mean
a child.”

“Oh, that’s better.”