The Magical Christmas Cat

"Oh?"



"Yeah—Holly's a girl. And she's human."



Zach knew exactly what Bryan meant. No matter their animal, changelings were physically tougher than humans. Their bones were stronger, their bodies healed faster, and, in the case of predatory changelings, they could do a hell of a lot more damage. "Which doesn't explain why you hit him." He knew and liked his nephew. The boy had been born with a solid code of honor, a code that had been strengthened by the rules DarkRiver men lived by.



"You know we don't bully weaker people."



A shamefaced expression. "I know."



"Did the cat get angry?" The leopard was part of who they were. But for the younger ones, the wilder side of their nature was sometimes difficult to control.



Right then, Bryan's curvy temptation of a teacher shifted up front. Her delectable scent whispered over on disturbed air currents, ruffling the leopard's fur in the most enticing way. He barely bit back a responsive groan. Sometimes, adults had trouble with the cat, too.



"Come on, JB. You know I'm not going to get mad at you if you lost control."



"Yeah, I guess I kinda got mad." Bryan shuffled his feet. "I wanted to growl and bite, but I hit him instead."



"That's good." A leopard's jaws could do a lot of damage.



"And it wasn't just the cat," his nephew elaborated.



"It was all of me."



Zach understood. They weren't human, and they weren't animal. They were both. "What made you angry?"



"Morgan said something mean."



Zach knew that sometimes it was those who appeared weakest who bore the nastiest of streaks. At least Ms. Kildaire seemed well aware of that—he hadn't missed the fact that she hadn't automatically blamed Bryan. "Tell me what it was."



Bryan darted a glance toward his teacher, then leaned closer. "I didn't want to say anything to Miss Kildaire, 'cause she's nice, and I like her."



"I like her, too." A truer statement had never been said. There was something about the little teacher with her jet-black hair and dark brown eyes that had the cat purring in interest. He wondered if she realized she had one hell of a sexy mouth, then wondered if she'd let him do all sorts of wicked things to that mouth, hater, he promised himself. Right now, Bryan needed him. "What does this have to do with Ms. Kildaire?"



"Morgan said that his mother said that Miss Kildaire is sitting on a shelf."



Zach had to think about that one for a few seconds.



"He said she's on the shelf?"



"Uh-huh." An emphatic nod. "I don't know why Miss Kildaire would sit on a shelf, but that's what Morgan said."



"I'm guessing there's more."



"And then Morgan said that his mother said that Miss Kildaire was too fat to get a man."



What a load of horseshit, Zach thought. Morgan's mother was probably some shriveled-up jealous twit.



"I see."



"And then Morgan said she was a cripple."



Zach had a sudden urge to punch out the little rat himself. "Go on."



"I told him to take it back. Miss Kildaire is the nicest teacher at the school, and she's not a cripple just 'cause she has a sore leg sometimes and has to use a cane." Temper flared in Bryan's eyes, the irises shifting to the jagged green of the leopard.



"Hold the cat, Bryan," Zach said, forcing a choke hold on his own anger. Cubs had to be taught control.



Once, a long time ago, the animal fury of changelings had run unchecked, and it had led to the carnage of the Territorial Wars.



The other races might've forgotten those tormented years, but changelings never would. And they'd never allow it to happen again. "Hold it." He put his hand on Bryan's arm and allowed a low growl to rise from his throat. It was a gesture of dominance, and it worked to bring Bryan's leopard back under control.



"Sorry."



Zach felt his own cat pacing inside him before it became distracted by the exquisite scent of the luscious Ms. Kildaire. "It's okay. We all had to learn."



"Yeah." Bryan blew out a breath. "Anyway, Morgan kept saying she was a cripple, and I got mad and hit him."



Zach found himself in a quandary. He really couldn't disagree with his nephew's actions, but punching out another kid was against the rules. He looked into Bryan's intelligent face and made the only decision he could. "JB, you know we don't condone this kind of violence."



Bryan nodded.



"But I understand the provocation." Lying wasn't how the pack worked. And Bryan was old enough to know that understanding didn't mean approval.



His nephew's face melted into a smile. "I knew you would." He threw his arms around Zach's neck.



Zach hugged that small, sturdy body and waited until Bryan drew back before asking, "Why didn't you call your dad? He would've understood, too." Joe ran a bar that was a favorite gathering place for the pack, but he was also a fellow soldier.



"He's watching Liam's soccer game today. I didn't want to mess that up—Liam's been practicing his kicks for like a month."



Zach ruffled his nephew's hair. "You're a good kid, JB." Standing, he nodded at the cubbyholes that lined the back of the classroom. "Grab your stuff while I go sort this out with Ms. Kildaire."



Bryan grabbed his hand. "You won't—"



"I won't say anything. Promise."



Relaxing, Bryan went to a cubby to their right and began to gather his things.



Zach watched Annie rise from her chair as he walked over and had to fight the urge to growl that she sit back down. He'd noticed her shakiness earlier—her left leg was bothering her. But if he said what he wanted to, he'd be as bad as that runt, Morgan. Annie Kildaire had to be perfectly capable if she was running a classroom of seven-year-olds.



"Did he tell you?" she asked in that husky voice that brushed like black velvet over his skin. The cat stretched out, asking for more. Being stroked by Ms.



Kildaire, he thought, both sides of him in agreement, might just be the best Christmas present ever.



"Yes, he gave up the goods."



She waited. "And?"



"And I can't tell you." He watched her brow furrow, her lips purse. He couldn't decide if he wanted to bite down on that full lower lip or lick the upper one.



"Mr. . . . Zach."



"Quinn," he supplied. "Zach Quinn."



Her cheeks flared with little red spots of temper.



"Mr. Quinn, Bryan is a child. I expect you to act like an adult."



Oh, he had plenty of plans to act like an adult around Ms. Kildaire. "I promised JB."



She stared at him, then blew out a breath. "And promises are to be kept."



"Yes."



"What do you suggest I do?" She folded her arms.



"I have to punish him, and I can't do that without knowing why he did what he did."



"I'll take care of it." Bryan had hit someone, and his nephew knew he'd be disciplined for it, provocation or not. But some things, Zach knew, were worth fighting over. "I'll make sure the punishment fits the crime."



"It's a school matter."



"It's a leopard matter."



Chapter 2



Understanding filtered into those pretty melted-chocolate eyes. "He's usually so well controlled, I forget he's only seven."



"Boy'll grow up to be one of the dominants, probably a soldier." He glanced behind him. "Ready?"



Bryan nodded, backpack slung over his shoulder.



"Yep."



Zach watched as his nephew walked up to the desk and said, "I'm sorry I dis—"a frown of concentration—



"disrupted the classroom. But I'm not sorry I hit Morgan."



Zach was looking at Annie and saw her struggle to hide a smile. "That's not a very good attitude, Bryan."



"I know. And I'm ready for the punishment. But I'm still not sorry."



Brown eyes flicked to him. "Is stubbornness a family trait?" Her lips curved just a little, just enough to make everything in him sit up in attention.



"Now that, sweetheart," he said, a stunning realization taking form in his chest, "is something you'll have to decide for yourself." Well, hell.



She colored again. "Thank you for coming in, Mr.



Quinn. I'll look forward to seeing Bryan in class on Monday."



He didn't move, tasting the realization that had him by the throat. It was hot, wild, right. Utterly, absolutely right. The knowledge made his smile slow and seductive. "Why don't you walk out with us?" The corridors had been close to empty when he arrived, and he couldn't hear any movement now. No way was he leaving sweet Annie Kildaire alone in a building with winter darkness only an hour away at most.



"I'll be out in a moment." She began to gather the papers on her desk.



"We'll wait." He glanced at Bryan. "Can you wait?"



"Yep." A sunny smile. "But I'm hungry."



Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he pulled out a muesli bar he'd grabbed on his way here.



"I got you this for the ride home."



Bryan caught it with cat-quick reflexes and happily went off to scramble into a seat, backpack at his feet.



Meanwhile, Ms. Kildaire was giving him a guarded kind of look. "Really Mr. Quinn—"



"Zach. You can only call me Mr. Quinn when you're angry."



"Mr.—"



"Zach."



Her hand fisted. "Fine. Zach."



He smiled, liking that she was already comfortable enough to argue with him. Some women found him a little too dangerous to play with. And he very much wanted to play with Annie. "Yes, Teach?"



He could hear her gritting her teeth. "I'll be perfectly fine walking out alone. I do it every day of the week."