The Cat Goes On A Hunt

It took two weeks to schedule an outing with Taurus.

Between his Company jobs—whatever the hell those are—and my ridiculously full social calendar, we had to cancel four times. I know it's silly, but I got a little concerned that he'd changed his mind. After all, he wouldn't be the first clone or droid recently to decide I'm beneath them.

During that time, all hell broke loose in the Resistance.

Outside of my families' bullshit shenanigans, my greatest fears about the multiple DNA mutation theory manifested: Sari and Rhea developed powers. I don't know how—unless they, too, had some non-human shit latent in their blood—but it was not good news. Both of them have a truckload of unresolved issues and getting the ability to use mutant powers to deal with it?

Fucking terrifying, man.

I found out about Sari by witnessing her showing them off in public; that was par for the course with her. Knowing she was using them against Rafe in the background was disturbing, but he assured me he had it under control. Rhea was also true to form by revealing hers in private to her mates. She's so damned scared of using them; she's going to get everyone around her killed when she loses control.

They aren't the worst people who could have gotten their particular skills, but they aren't the best choices, either.

I kept my panicking to private conversations with Rafe. He's the only one who knows what those two already do to damage us regularly. No one else would understand why I'm terrified of their inability to control things as dangerous as shifting and fire. I can't tell anyone why, either, so now I'm left with this gnawing in my gut. I knew I had to do something, so I went with the option least annoying to me: I invited Rhea on this hunting expedition.

Taurus has been long-distance coaching me on control since we met—mostly through half insulting, half aggravated emails—but Rhea won't listen to me. Her primary, Alistair, has never been a big bad like his ‘brother', so he's useless at reining her in. While I desperately wanted to go alone with Taurus so I could explore my limits, my terror that Rhea will accidentally fry someone has superseded that desire.

"I don't know," Rhea says, wringing her hands as she spins in front of my full-length mirror. "Maybe this is too… Maybe you should go by yourself. Well, not by yourself. Alistair will have a heart attack, and so will Rafe, Victor, and Wilde. But you don't need me to come. You need Sari; we should call her. This is not my thing, but it's definitely hers."

I hold up my hand and start ticking off my retorts. "One: Wilde and Sari could give a shit less what I do with my beast. Besides, they're part of what I'm escaping. Two: Victor and Rafe are used to living with me; running headlong into dangerous situations is normal. Deep-down, they know I can take care of myself. Three: You're coming, so zip it." I toss my hair over my shoulders, giving her an imperious expression. "Four: Quit pulling on that shirt or you'll stretch it out and it will look terrible."

"But—"

Grabbing her arm, I pull her towards the stairs. "No buts!"

Rhea is infuriatingly wishy-washy. She's timid and lacks confidence, yet she wants the boys to treat her like she's a bad girl. Her idea of ‘bad girl' and mine differ by light years, trust me. However, I can't let her screw this up. Of all the powers someone as namby-pamby as Rhea could get, I'm certain that fire is the worst. Unpredictable, deadly, and cool is not her bag. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that she's going to kill someone if I don't get her to learn control.

If she wasn't family, I'd probably let her discover that on her own. Since she is, I'd prefer her accidental target to not be my primary mate. I'm undecided about Wilde—I might be okay with him getting a taste of his own medicine. His stupid ass demon had a fire and ice phase it took almost a week to heal from.

Dragging her to the front door, I smirk as the gauntlet of grumbling clones' scowls. I don't want to look like an overexcited dork, but I'm super psyched. I've been on pins and needles for days, hoping we didn't end up canceling again.

"Kitten," Alistair begins.

"Flame," Rafe chimes in.

Victor glowers from the archway, his expression a mix between angry and petulant, but he says nothing.

I give them all an exasperated look. "Stow it, all of you—including the rest of you I can't see in other rooms. We're going out to have some fun without you. Get over it."

Rhea garners a little backbone from my stubborn stance. Giving our mates a defiant look, she adds, "Maybe cause some trouble, too. If we feel like it."

Holding back a chuckle at her inability to commit to anything, I glare at the brooding band of clones and droids. "I can take care of myself and so can she. We're big girls and you need to amuse yourselves for the evening—no mind watching. The first person I catch in my head sleeps on the porch for a month."

"We'll call if we need you," Rhea offers, batting her lashes at the angry faces.

They all soften at her words, and I groan. "Which we won't. Geez." I wink at them, feeling saucy. "Don't wait up."

Rhea blinks at me as if she didn't understand we might be out late, and before she tries to opt out to hop on Rafe, I yank her arm and pull her out the door.

His scent catches the breeze as I open the door and I roll my eyes. He couldn't ring the doorbell like a normal person—oh no. He has to sit out by his bike and be the cool, aloof guy.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asks again, tugging the shirt exactly where I told her not to.

"Nope," I grin, flashing pearly whites against dark vampy lipstick. "All the same, it'll be a hell of a ride."

"Sometimes I wonder why I let you people drag me into these things."

"Otherwise, you'd have no fun at all." I shrug and give her a grin, peering out into the night.

He's not waiting where we can see him; I gotta scent him out. I shouldn't be this annoyed by his arrogance, but what can I say? He knows how to get a rise out of me. I do not know why I put up with him—scratch that. I know. He's growing on me. I'm enjoying the occasional time he drops by and we hang out.

Imagine that.

When I locate him, I grin smugly. I had to let the kitty night vision kick in to see him leaning against a tree down the street. He's picking imaginary lint from the shoulder of his duster, pretending not to see us. I turn and whisper to Rhea, "He's down there; can you see him?"

"Of course not," she snorts. "It's pitch black out here and he's over a hundred feet away. Why we had to go at midnight, I don't know."

I shake my head. Rhea's a nice gal and she is a part of my family, but she worries like an old nanny goat. My mates' attraction to her is baffling; she has zero joie de vivre.

I want Taurus to help me help her with her new powers, but she needs him to help her. Truthfully, Sari needs it more because she's out of control, but Taurus won't have anything to do with her. Not that she would listen to him if he did—that's a truly burned bridge. On the bright side, not bringing her along means I don't have to tell him why I'm concerned about Sari. That means I can continue to avoid discussing my terrible family situation and the thing we do not talk about from the winter.

"Try again. Torch up or whatever. I know you can."

"I really don't want to."

"Rhea, I know you've got powers you've been hiding because Rafe told me. The same thing happened to me—I woke up with something I didn't know how to control. It's also exhausting to keep secrets slipping through the mating connection."

Trust me; I know.

I've kept the shit happening with Wilde and Sari secret from everyone. The amount of energy it takes to maintain those mental blocks and control the beast is killing me. I'm eating like a T-Rex to keep myself upright.

"Besides, I can smell it, feel it, and Rafe is terrible at mentally blocking me." That's why I do his blocking for him and the added strain is tearing me up. "For tonight, let it all out. Let's have consequence-free play time. You'll learn, but you can't figure out where the boundaries are if you don't test the limits."

Her reluctant sigh signals acquiescence and a tinge of smoke fills my nostrils when a small ball of fire appears in her palm. She blows it towards where I pointed, lighting a path bright enough for our eyes to see the way to his slouching form.

"Excellent," I grin. "We are going to tear this town up, sister. Let's go before he has a seizure from that display."

I stalk over to where he's waiting, watching his expression. As usual, it gives away nothing until Rhea and I get closer. For a moment—more of a glimmering second—his mask of disinterest drops, and he grins appreciatively. As fast as it appears, the grin fades to disdain. I caught it, though, and I'm inordinately pleased by it.

His head tilts towards Rhea. "It's been a while, Blondie. My goddess sends her love." Being the primary mate of one of his ‘brothers' earns Rhea a bit of formality, I guess. "Thanks ever so for the blinding ball of not so stealthy. Were you trying to burn me alive?"

Rhea's eyes widen, and she shakes her head. I worry she'll turn on her heel and run, but she somehow gets some starch in her spine. "I was only trying to light the way. Not all of us have that clone glowy-eye night vision."

"True enough, though, seems like more by the day," he drawls, sounding bored and irritated as his gaze cuts to me. "That's not a problem your partner in girlie mayhem bears. What part of low key did you misunderstand, Sandwich?"

"I wasn't expecting her to throw a fireball. I didn't even know she could do it, jackass. That makes this even more important, doesn't it? Besides, you do low key like a paparazzi does respectful distance. Don't judge me." I shrug and turn to mutter to Rhea, knowing he can hear. "It's not my fault he was hiding over here like a drama queen."

I'm deliberately poking at him, but that's become a comfortable part of our repartee in the past few weeks. I'm confident I won't get skewered for it—maybe. He gives me the patented ‘scary Taurus' look and I press my lips together, suppressing my urge to chuckle. It doesn't scare me anymore, but I guess he has to save face with Rhea by trying to terrify me.

His gaze slides to me and then over to Rhea. "You two dropping by a tarts and vicars party, or is there another equally wretched reason for those outfits?"

Rhea tugs at the skintight lace tank again, his criticism making her self-conscious.

She's so fluttery. Sigh.

I roll my eyes as he hit the target he was aiming for exactly. I'm trying to build her up and he knocks her down just to get at me. Putting my hand on my leather clad hip, I glared at him. My outfit is normal for me, and what I wear is none of his damn business. "Is there something wrong with how we're dressed?"

"Not if you're planning on working the bloody cor?—"

My eyes glitter as I cut him off. "I doubt you want to finish that sentence, darling. Besides, I think we make excellent bait." Lifting my arms above my head, I spin slowly, displaying a wealth of alabaster skin in low-slung leather pants and a matching backless corset. My long hair swings over the ribbons binding it, the crimson a stark contrast to the black leather and pale skin. "We should attract a slobberer or two."

"Fuck assume. That getup would attract an entire monastery. Not to mention the mini Bic over here." His eyes narrow, looking irritable. "I will not pry idiots off you all night, you know."

Laughing throatily, I shake my head. "Oh, yeah. You'd hate that chest thumping caveman stuff."

"We can handle ourselves," Rhea pipes up.

"Can you now?" he says, eyeing her. "There are more tricks up those non-existent sleeves, I take it?"

She grins and shrugs, her eyes dancing. "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

Snorting, he pushes off the tree and fishes in his pocket for a smoke. Rhea flicks her thumb up, a flame dancing in front of his cig, looking pleased with herself.

Good on her for trying to show him, but it only encourages his disdain as he puffs until its lights, then gives her a cool look. "Yeah. Lighting some git's smoke will really have them shaking in their beer-soaked shit kickers."

She visibly shrinks back, her bravado dissipating like mist over a river. His gaze changes when he sees her curl in and he looks at my puckered expression of disapproval.

Perhaps he caught the flicker of hurt his words caused or Talia screamed in his noggin; I don't know. Maybe he still cares about Rhea in a way he doesn't for anyone else because of their family connection through Alistair. His voice is soft as he reaches out to brush a strand of hair from her cheek.

"Listen, love, I'm sorry. I'm a bad, rude man. The thought of you getting dented or pawed at by someone you can't handle makes me want to behead people. If you say wait and see, I will." He taps her nose with his finger, smiling in a fond, big brother way. "You know, if I thought it'd do any good, I'd lecture you on the dangers of heart-stopping threads like that. As it is, I'll try to control my baser instincts."

Turning away from her, he gives me a shrewd look, clearly deciding that the same lecture would be wasted on me.

I'm not a wilting flower, and I don't need his approval. I'm not ashamed of who I am—at least, not in my present company. My problems with Wilde since my beast appeared are a different story. His voice cuts into my thoughts and I look up, hoping my sadness is hidden under the mask like I think it is. "What?"

"I said, where are we going, Sandwich? It's not like I know my way around these parts."

He's eyeing me carefully now, and I have to watch myself. That maudlin moment may have weakened my wards enough to let some of it leak through. I gotta be more careful and for that; I need to feed. I need more energy to keep it all under wraps. "In the mood for ribs? I'm hungry and I figured we'd go roust something out to satisfy the urge."

"We're going hunting?"

I grin fangily as the thought lets the beast slip a bit. "We're going hunting."

Without warning, his arm shoots out and pulls me against him. His hand slides down my spine and before I can smack the hell out of him, he whispers softly so only my enhanced hearing can catch it. "It's been a while since I've been on a run, gorgeous." His hands dip lower and come to rest on my ass. "I'm feeling peckish. No sense not to have an appetizer before dinner." Without another word, he swoops down and captures my lips.

If the shock doesn't kill me, Talia might.

Typically, I'd give a person who dared to touch me without permission a swift kick in the balls or a right hook, but this time I didn"t. I simply let loose and give him free rein. Everything about this screams ‘bad idea', but I'm not listening. I've always been a sucker for people who give me back everything I throw at them. That must be why every cell in my body has decided he's a tasty treat.

My hands smooth up his chest to wrap around his neck. I'm actively taking part, and I'm sure that has sealed my doom from a flying piece of weaponry. Both of our dooms, possibly, because he squeezes my ass as I wriggle against him. When he lifts his head, swirling emerald eyes meet icy blue, and for a moment, a shared look of confusion passes between us.

"Now," he says, drawing back and setting me away. He shakes his head and his demon emerges. "Let's go get something to eat."

"Damned right," I mutter, letting the kitty out to play as I lick my fangs. My hips sway as I stalk towards my bike determinedly, trying to pretend I'm not nearly as shaken by that display as I am. "If I was hungry before, now I'm fucking ravenous."