Chapter Nineteen
Hamel padded through the woods from where he’d parked his car and stripped. The wooded area that extended to the water had come in handy. At first, he thought it would be a problem, blocking his view of her. Then he realized how his animal blended in perfectly.
It was late afternoon instead of being dark out, so he traveled deeper—closer to the water than usual. The last thing he wanted was kids following him to look at the pretty panther. He was a black jaguar, with spots, if one looked close enough.
Having moved south far enough, he cut in to find her balcony with the hammock chair and table. He’d have to try that chair. It looked really comfortable. He always fell off the hammocks strung between trees at the big resorts he’d vacationed at. His cat laughed at him to no end. Stupid human couldn’t balance enough to lie on a hanging blanket.
A familiar smell reached his nose. Faint, but there. Melinda’s bungalow came into view. The balcony doors barely stood, busted open. A spike of adrenaline shot him forward, over the rail, and onto the small patio. Fear. That was the smell. Just like in the lab not too long ago.
He sniffed at the doors. Absolutely no smell, meaning hunter’s block had been used again. He stuck his head past the broken barrier to listen for movement. The only thing he heard was soft sobs.
Stepping in the two-room home, he surveyed the space. It looked like a trash dump with everything that had not been sitting on the floor now lying on the floor. Papers, books, computer, pens. Her mattress had been flipped up, even. Every pan, plate, and dish sat scattered. Cabinet doors stood open, boxed food and white powder covering the floor.
Letting his nose guide him, he found Melinda curled up in a corner next to the front door. She must’ve seen her devastated home as soon as she walked in and hadn’t made it much farther.
Oh, god, his heart hurt for her. He wanted to shift and hold her in his arms, tell her everything would be all right now that he was here. He would protect her and never leave her side, except when she went to the bathroom, and then he’d stand outside the door. His overprotective streak was exhibiting itself again.
Her eyes widened when she saw him, and she inhaled to scream, no doubt. He fell to the floor, trying to tell her he wasn’t going to hurt her. He meant her no harm. Of course, he had to land on top of a few forks and pointy kitchen utensils.
His eyes remained squeezed closed, waiting for the high-pitched yell to pierce his ears. Nothing came.
Opening one eye, he looked at her still crumpled in the corner. Her mouth gaped, but no fear was in her eyes. More like wonder. The thought to crawl forward was delayed as soon as the first fork tongs pressed against his stomach.
Well, shit. Now what? If he crouched just off the floor, it would look like he was going to pounce on her. If he got to his feet, she’d think the same. All normal options no longer being options, he rolled over, legs in the air, belly exposed, to flop onto his side. Not as graceful as he’d planned, but he was off the forks.
A small giggle floated to him. Was she breaking into fits of hysterical laughter, those that preceded a mental breakdown? He couldn’t blame her. Having your home trashed by thieves felt like being assaulted. They’d invaded your supposedly safe home. She’d feel violated, dirty, even though none of it was her fault.
The smell in the air told him they were happy giggles. As he remained non-threating on his side, he glanced at her. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and a hand partially covered a slight grin. Her line of sight was at his stomach.
He looked down to see his underside completely covered with white powder. Raisins, small nuts, and a fork were stuck to his belly. When he had rolled, he got white powder along his whole body. He didn’t have to worry about looking scary anymore. Now he had to deal with being a laughingstock. He was so glad none of the other guys on the team were here.
As best he could with paws, he brushed off the unwanted tagalongs then rolled onto his belly. Head on his paws.
“Aww, aren’t you so cute, big kitty.” Joy filled him. His mate thought he was cute. Then his cat reminded him everyone thought kitties were cute. Dammit. Couldn’t he soak in pride for just a second? No, his cat always had to keep him grounded.
She was no longer crying; that was good. He wondered how close he could get. On his stomach, he pushed forward with his back feet. She didn’t cringe. Good sign. He repeated the action, coming within a couple feet of her.
No fear floated in the air, so he slowly inched toward her. She tentatively reached out and rubbed between his ears. That felt good. It’d been a long time since he’d been scratched with fingernails getting all the way to his skin.
He scooted closer, laying his head on her feet, her legs akimbo. With both hands, she scratched his scruff and neck, working farther down. Ahh, yeah. This was fucking great! He slid forward, resting his head on her thigh, then partially rolled to expose his stomach.
Her nails scraped along his tender skin. Fuck, yes! Shit, this felt better than sex, with anyone except his mate. She’d be incredible, if he ever got her there. But for now, this was it. Yeah, baby.
He couldn’t stop his purring. Again, thank goodness his teammates weren’t here to witness. Slowly, he came down from his high to realize she’d stopped her heavenly ministrations. He took stock of the situation.
His body lay splayed between her now straight legs, his upper back bent over her thigh. One paw sat on her shoulder and one foot wedged under her knee. His other foot dangled in the air, flashing his junk to the world. Whoa—he brought his leg down quickly. No need to impress with those. She’d appreciate the other form better.
He lifted off her leg, crawling back a bit. He parked his head between her knees and took a deep breath. Heaven.
Oh, shit. He looked up to see her expression. Did he just royally embarrass himself? Good thing animals didn’t blush. She smiled down at him.
“You’re my guardian cat, aren’t you? I’m glad the snake venom didn’t kill you. I would’ve felt terrible.”
Yeah, him, too.
“You’re so pretty and soft. I could pet you all night.”
All in favor say “aye.” Aye. Aye.
• • •
Melinda let out a heavy sigh and looked around her room. “What am I to do with this mess? I hate to say it, but I wish Hamel were here.” He’d started to grow on her. She actually liked him. If she was honest, maybe she more than liked him. No, that wasn’t possible.
She thought back to the hug he gave her not long ago in the lab. His incredibly strong arms had picked her up off the floor like she weighed as much as a piece of paper.
The feeling that went through her as he held her, pressing her against his chest—never had she sensed such safety, such peace than while she rested against him. And damn, he smelled so freaking good. She loved how his face shined when he smiled at her, and how his eyes lit up when he laughed. She loved how he took control when her mind was in a tailspin with what had happened. That seemed like a daily event lately. Right now, he could have all the control he wanted.
But he wasn’t here. She laid her head on the wall. “I guess I shouldn’t be that surprised about this. After all, I did take the serum home last night. I was lucky the guy went looking at the lab instead of here.”
Her hands rubbed her eyes. “I am so tired of all this, kitty. All I want is to have it all go away.” She’d never done anything to deserve this.
But what worried her most was that she still had the serum. Where and when would they strike next?