The Cat On A High Iron Roof

Rhea is white as a sheet when she climbs on the bike behind me.

I don't blame her; she's awfully gentle hearted for this venture.

She's gotta learn, though, or she'll hurt someone. Including her on our outing is the best way to teach her control. Not learning the scope of her powers and how to harness them is dangerous. She refused to take part in the hunting aspect, leaving Taurus and me to find our own sustenance while she stood by the bikes and wrung her hands.

The primal inside gets hungrier as you spend energy. No matter what you're doing: fighting, fucking, shopping—it doesn't make a difference. It needs feeding, and she's starving hers. That shit is going to bite us all on the ass if I can't get her to listen to me tonight. I can only hope Taurus has better luck because so far, I've hit a wall.

Since I started fighting for control of my beast, I noticed the more I fight, the worse the hunger gets. I emailed Taurus about how exhausted I was, and he suggested hunting. I suppose that's how the less ‘domesticated' Company agents master their demons. Hell only knows how the non-primal clones like Rafe or Victor do it. Perhaps that's why they got released: they don't have the primal hunger making them liabilities rather than assets.

The incident in December with Wilde and the accident with Mercury in January made me loathe to fully let the beast out. I allow minor victories to keep her satisfied, but it's not enough. She longs for more and it will eventually destroy me if I can't find sources I'm not worried about harming. I asked Taurus to come tonight because I need to find a better way of feeding, and I need to keep Rhea from killing someone.

It's a two for one, if you ask me.

For all of Rhea's disgust, I didn't kill anyone. Taurus probably did, which is why I picked the ribs joint on the river near my old neighborhood. It's convenient for dumping bodies—even the mob knew that. I lured two drunken idiots into the shadows with a flash of skin and split the difference. They're passed out under a tree.

I don't think Rhea was ready for the visual, though, because she's been silent as a monk. She's known Taurus for much longer than I have, so I assumed she knew what he was capable of. I might surprise her, but that's not unusual. People love to peg me with expectations that don't fit with who I actually am.

Honestly, I think Rhea and Sari only mated with me to stake claims, not because they knew and loved me. Wilde and Alistair had fixed ideas of who they wanted me to be—particularly Wilde—and that's why they mated with me. The mess with all of them is too depressing to think about right now.

It's rough trying to adjust your world view because you've changed only to find out nothing else was real, either.

My bike grinds to a halt in front of the dilapidated building that has been home to drum and bass raves since I was a teen. I picked this for our testing ground because of its anonymity. I'm surprised to find that I can hear and feel the pulse of pounding bass of the industrial music, smell the sweaty bodies, and taste the salt in the air. The animal part of me takes getting used to, and I pause for a moment, letting my senses soak in the surroundings.

Rhea hops off our bike quickly, giving me a scared rabbit look that brings me back into reality. I wait for Taurus to join us, watching as he glares at the building as if it's a roach on his foie gras. He gives me a ‘you've got to be sodding kidding me' look and I glare. He's such a snob.

My companion doesn't say a word, just stands there looking shaken until I tug her arm to pull her towards the front of the line at the door. I give the bouncer enough cleavage shots to get past the ropes because we can't apparate in.

As we step into the darkness, Taurus grumbles close to my ear. "I didn't come out to kick around with kiddies, Sandwich. This had better get more interesting fast."

"If you're not interested in snacking on a tripped-out Goth kid, let's make our own fun. Rhea and I have powers; let's play with them."

Piping up for the first time since the river, Rhea blurts out, "Like truth or dare with consequences?"

I close my eyes, groaning. Rhea wants to be a bad girl so damned bad, but it's not in her. She's not the darkest night with a sliver of moonlight like me. Sunshine and roses and bunnies, that's Rhea. Taurus is going to destroy her suggestion with a remark that would make a Kardashian bleed with shame.

It's coming in three… two… one…

"Granted," he drawls laconically. "I'm feeling spry after the tasty morsels, but I'll be royally buggered before I take part in this mosh pit equivalent of a slumber party. Do I look like a bloody nit to you? Besides, you two don't have the stones to take me on at that game. Trust me when I tell you, mine are consequences you're not ready for."

My eyes gleam at the challenge. He should know better than to wave a red flag at me. He'll find out soon enough that I'm not a damsel in distress who can't take what his flea-sized brain dishes out. Sticking my chin out, I cross my arms over my chest and perch one hand on my hip. "Bring it on."

He has the gall to sigh and roll his eyes at me. "There go those pompoms." His eyes rake over me, ogling the wide expanse of pale skin exposed by my backless corset. Leaning in, he whispers in a way that only my ears can hear. "Then again, I do like to see a chit jiggle."

Scowling, I mutter under my breath, knowing that he can hear me. "Are you in, Rhea? Mr. High and Mighty thinks we can't roll with the big boys. Shall we make him eat his words?"

Her look says, ‘hell no', but she takes my earlier advice and shrugs, trying to look casual. "Sounds okay to me, I guess."

Way to project confidence, Rhea. Baby steps, I suppose.

"Here I figured you'd be brighter than Miss ‘Take a Dare from the Big Bad' over here, little flame. You'd best know that if you start this, I'll not be giving you any quarter. Think hard before signing up." He gives her a look of pure disbelief, as if following my lead is the dumbest thing she'll ever do.

Her expression narrows, and her blonde curls bounce as she mirrors my stance. "I said yes, didn't I? Aren't clones supposed to have superb hearing?"

Much better, Rhea. Good girl.

A smile dances over my lips and I look up at him. "Alright, then. Who's going first? I'm ready to rumble." I make a show of stretching like an athlete on the field, a smirk practically dripping from my lips.

White teeth flash at me, and I know I walked right into the cave and dared the bear to eat me. I'm confident in my abilities and outside of precision control, I'm decent at using them. That little grin, however, makes me a shade nervous. But the bass and thrum of bodies and scents are captivating me, so I ignore that warning because I'm feeling invincible.

Pride goeth, they say.

He pauses for a moment, weighing his options, and then he slices me with his gaze. His head tilts as he looks up, up, up to the second level at the support beams and ceiling of the warehouse, studying it intently. I'm getting impatient when he snorts.

"Worry less about the rumble, puss, and more about the tumble. You want to play? Let's see you haul that tawny tail of yours from one side of this shit shack to the other without bouncing off the bodies beneath you. You touch the ground before the trip's done and you lose. What do you lose? You'll find out when I get my prize."

I know the wolfish gleam in his eyes and see the way he's looking at me like a starving dog who's found a biscuit. It sends a forbidden shiver down my spine. Between that flirty look and the kiss earlier—which that bastard doesn't seem the least bit affected by—my temper is sizzling. I'm also not one to back down, even when I'm dead wrong.

That might be a problem tonight.

I look at the structure above me, gauging the balconies to be about thirty feet in the air. Jesus, I can't even estimate the distance across the room: it's massive. There's no catwalk to be ironic on, only a lot of beams and iron bars of varying sizes and thicknesses crisscrossing the ceiling like lattice work. The only way to do this if you can't apparate is to—okay, maybe I can do this. Provided my fear of structural integrity doesn't kick in mid-crossing, I can make it without too much obvious use of my abilities.

He knows nothing about my other world life, so he can't know what training I have and that will hurt him. If it doesn't, cats have nine lives, right? Maybe if I only burn one tonight, we're lucky.

Right?

I snort my response, giving him a defiant look. "If that's the best that over-stuffed, preening clones can do, you've been out of the game too long, buddy. This one's cat's play."

Before he can retort, I stalk over to the wall that connects to the upper level balconies. Flicking out my claws, I dig them into the soundproofing on the walls and climb my way up to the next level. I don't have time to ponder how easily I've climbed up because my boots perch on the top bar of the guardrail. Once I feel my balance is sturdy, I give him a wink over my shoulder.

Turning back, I look across the wide expanse, plotting my route. It's been a while since I've done anything this acrobatic, and I hope like hell that it really is like riding a bike. That thought alone should make me pause, but adrenaline and my pride are running high in my veins—I cannot lose. I feel his eyes on me, mirth radiating from his slouching form as Rhea frets next to him. The stakes are too high to fail.

Muscle memory, don't fail me now.

Taking a deep breath, I wing a silent prayer to whatever Goddess is listening. Leaping off the railing, I aim for the thick iron bar a few feet away. When my hands slap the cool metal, my breath whooshes out in relief as I hang there. Once my heart stops hammering, I realize I won't move if I don't get momentum. Kicking my legs back and forth, I let my palms grip and re-grip. I'd give my pinky toe for some chalk to keep my old blisters from opening, but that's not workable right now.

Feeling my body move with force needed, I wait for the right spot in the arc of motion to let my feet fly towards the next bar. It's only a little higher and a few feet from the one I'm on, but upward trajectory is key here. My knees hook around it and I let myself hang for a moment.

Their eyes are on me as I finish thanking the heavens that this really is like riding a bike. It's a high up, scary ass, end up as a puddle if you miss a bike, but a bike just the same. The possibilities of a Deli-shaped splatter are not appealing, so I take a deep a breath as I look at the rest of my chosen path.

I would have to choose the most spectacularly difficult route across this, wouldn't I? I am such an idiot. Garnering the chutzpah to move before I get lightheaded, I rock back and forth, hoping that my long-standing inability to do this trick doesn't rear its ugly head. Momentum swings me upward in a counterclockwise motion and when I'm sitting on the bar upright, I sigh.

Fucking sweet.

There's a wide wooden beam within reach, so I grab it to steady myself as I stand. Walking a few feet down the bar carefully, I ponder why I'm risking my tail to impress him. I know I'm being watched again when I feel my hackles raise, so I make a show of twirling around on the bar in a pirouette. I don't want him knowing I'm as nervous as I am because that would ruin my victory.

Something tells me I wouldn't have the chance to even hit the floor if I fell, but that's not the point, is it?

When I get to the right spot on the beam, I hoist myself up to straddle it, deciding to show off again. Uneven bars were always a so-so event for me, but the beam was my specialty. Placing my hands on either side of the wood, I push upwards until my legs rise above my head in a full handstand. Even upside down, I can tell I have about twenty feet to go to the next goal post and I'll cover that ground faster on my feet rather than my hands.

I walk a few feet on my hands—because I can—then do a front walkover to get upright. Near the end of the beam, I do a flourish and, since I feel cheeky; I moonwalk off the end onto the grill work. From here, it's only a hop, skip, and a jump to the other side. Swinging from bar to bar like a monkey, I kick out, reaching the closest balcony rail. I land on it roughly and wince.

That's going to leave a mark.

I'm too tickled with myself to let it get me down. Letting myself fall backwards, I hang upside down for a few moments before flipping off the rail backwards. My feet hit the ground hard enough to jar my teeth, but I couldn't care less. Not only did I complete the dare without killing myself, I kicked its ass and got to show off. I'd be strutting like a disco queen if this place played that kind of music.

"Was it good for you?" I smirk, putting a hand on my hip as I stand toe to toe with him.

He glowers like he's ready to go on a multi-state rampage. "Are you completely off your bird, woman? What the bloody fucking hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that?"

Goddamnit, what is his problem? I did what he asked; why is he so damned angry?

"What? Are you pissed I did it? Did you think that I'd retreat like a coward when faced with your impossible dare? I wouldn't have hiked my ass up to that balcony if I hadn't planned to go across." I sound petulant, but I earned some praise and witty banter, not a face blistering lecture.

"There were at least three other routes you could have taken with your skills that would have been less hair-raising than the one you took, your silly twit. Did you ever think about what would happen—besides World War fucking Three—if you'd fallen and I'd not been able to…" He breaks off in mid-sentence and grinds his teeth together before snarling. "If you'd taken a tumble, you witless shit, all hell would've broken loose. They would have trampled Rhea in the dash to the door."

The light dawns on me when I look at his face. I'm not sure that I can deal with what I see, so I tuck it away for later. For now, I'll give him a break before a vein in his head pops. "Isn't it Rhea's turn?" I ask innocently, crossing my arms over my chest in a way that gives me a distracting amount of cleavage.

His glare is still burning over me as he huffs. Finally, he turns to Rhea and I let out a deep breath. That was super intense. I reach in my pocket, fishing out a smoke to light it. Between the adrenaline rush and his smoldering look, nicotine sounds damn good right now.

When my attention shifts back to Rhea, I see that he's considering his options. There's not a trace of scathing disdain that was there a moment ago when he was ripping me a new one.

I think I hate him.

His lips quirk up and I suck in a breath, hoping he's not about to break her with some impossible task. "Feed."