The Magical Christmas Cat
He shrugged, enjoying the verbal sparring. "I'm here today."
"And what you says goes?" Looking down, she shoved her papers into an untidy pile.
"Unless you can talk me out of it." He saw her jaw set and knew she was gritting those human teeth again. All that beautiful passion, he thought in pleasure, hidden behind the shyness that had first stained her cheeks. .
"And why should I be talking you out of anything?" She grabbed what looked like a black leather-synth satchel and put the papers inside.
"You're nobody to me."
The cat didn't like that. The man didn't either.
"That wasn't very nice."
She turned to shoot him a glare, then recommenced packing her satchel. He could almost see her trying to figure out if he was being serious or if he was teasing her. That it took her that much focus, told him she hadn't been teased much. That was a shame. Because when Annie got mad, she forgot to be shy.
Now, she slapped her satchel closed and swung it over her shoulder. Or tried to. Zach slid it out of her hand and brought the strap over his head, settling it diagonally across his body.
"Mr. Quinn!" She looked like she wanted to bite him.
His cat purred in interest, even as Bryan giggled.
"Nobody calls Uncle Zach that."
"Yeah, nobody does," Zach added. "Come on, Jumping Bean. We're moving out." He nodded at the coat thrown carelessly over the back of Annie's chair.
"Don't forget that. It's cold out." He began to walk to the door, knowing she'd have no choice but to follow.
After a taut second, she did. He heard her clothing rustle as she put the coat on over her stern gray pants and tailored white shirt, his mind obliging him with a fantasy slide show of the feminine softness he knew lurked underneath. Pity it was all covered up now.
"After you, Teach." Letting Bryan scamper a few feet ahead, he held the door open and watched Annie Kildaire walk toward him.
Her limp was very slight, but even that meant the injury had to have been horrendous. Either that, or the impairment was a natural one surgeons hadn't been able to repair fully. And there wasn't much surgeons couldn't repair these days. "What happened to your leg?" he asked once they were out in the hallway.
She faltered for a second before her shoulders squared. "There was a freak bullet-train derailment when I was seven. My leg was crushed so badly, it was pretty much unrecognizable as anything other than meat with a few fragments of bone."
He heard the simmering pride in her, had the sense that she was bracing herself for a blow. "They did a good job of reconstructing it. Titanium?"
He could tell from her expression that that wasn't the response she'd expected. "No. Some kind of new plassteel. Very high-tech. It 'grew' as I grew, so I only needed a couple of extra surgeries over the years."
"And now?"
"I shouldn't need any work done on it unless I injure the leg in some way."
Zach knew that couldn't be all of it. "Still hurt?"
She hesitated. "Sometimes." She indicated a corridor to their left. "I want to make sure Morgan's been picked up."
"JB, hold up." Knowing he could trust the boy not to dart outside, he followed Annie the short distance to the sick bay. Looking over her shoulder, he saw the darkened interior. "He's gone."
She jumped. "You walk like a cat!"
"I am a cat, sweetheart." He wanted to tease her again, so he let a low growl rumble up from his chest.
"See?"
Streaks of vibrant color stained her cheeks once more. But she didn't back down. "Are you planning to move?"
"No." He drew in a deep breath, fighting the urge to nuzzle at her throat. "You smell good. Can I taste you?" It was a half-serious question. "Just a little?"
"Mr. Quinn!" She took a step around him and headed off.
But he'd already caught the tart bite of arousal in her scent. Satisfied, he followed, on his best behavior now. It wouldn't do to scare Annie away. Not when he planned to keep her.
A moment later, they reached the front door, where Bryan was waiting. Zach pulled it open. "Stay with me," he told his nephew. The boy was leopard-fast, but he was still a boy. Sometimes, he didn't look where he was going, and cars could hurt him as easily as they could a human or Psy child.
The outside air was cold, but it made Zach sigh in exhilaration. Being outdoors was in his blood, the reason why he loved his day job as a ranger in Yosemite. The work fitted naturally into his duties as a DarkRiver soldier—he could run patrols and check up on his wild charges at the same time.
"Where's your car?" he asked Annie, noticing that her face had brightened, too. Sexy, kissable Annie Kildaire liked being outside as much as he did. It pleased the cat, soothed the man.
"Over there." Giving him a look still colored with the tart kiss of temper, she pointed to a little compact that would cut his legs in half if he was ever insane enough to try to fold himself inside. But she was on the small side, he thought, wondering if she'd mind tussling with a taller man. The idea of the games he wanted to play with Annie made him grin. "JB and I will walk you over."
She didn't argue with him this time, simply asked about his vehicle. He jerked a thumb in the direction of the rugged all-wheel-drive parked a few spaces away.
"I suppose you need that in the forest?" Her voice held a touch of wistfulness.
"Yeah." DarkRiver's territory covered a lot of beautiful but harsh land. And now that they had allied with the SnowDancer wolves, that territory included the Sierra Nevada mountains. "Have you ever been out in Yosemite?" The nearest edge of the massive forest was only about an hour from here, the reason why this school was so popular with the pack. Many of them lived on the fringes of Yosemite.
"Just the public areas." She pressed her thumb to the door of her car, deactivating the security lock. "I guess those sections only make up a tiny fraction of your territory?"
Zach nodded. In the past, DarkRiver had been relaxed about offering access to other parts of the forest—so long as people obeyed the rules that protected the land and its wild inhabitants. However, right now, with the Psy Council looking for any weakness in their defenses, they'd become more stringent. Nobody but Pack went in past what
DarkRiver considered the public boundary. Of course, members of the pack could bring guests in. "Want to see more?"
Her expression was startled. "I—" She snapped her mouth shut, and he saw her gaze dip to her leg. The movement was so quick, he would've missed it if he hadn't been watching her so closely.
Someone, he thought, a growl building inside him, had done a number on her confidence. "I can drive you up tomorrow," he said, clamping down on the anger, "show you some of the sights most people never get to see."
"I shouldn't." But temptation whispered through her eyes. "I have to prepare for the class's contribution to the Christmas pageant." A fond look directed at Bryan.
His nephew jumped up and down. "We're going to do the story of how the Psy once tried to cancel Christmas. It's gonna be so funny!"
"Make sure you get me a ticket," Zach said, but his mind was on how to secure Annie's company for tomorrow. Challenge might work. Or perhaps . . .
"Once-in-a-lifetime offer," he said with a smile that he tried to keep from being ravenous. If she caught even a hint of what he truly wanted from her, she'd never get into a car with him, much less let him drive her into the lush privacy of the forest. "Pack's getting strict about who we allow in."
She bit down on that full lower lip of hers, arousing his jealousy. He wanted to do the biting.
"Well," she said, clearly torn.
Then Bryan clinched the deal for him. "You should come, Miss Kildaire! Then after, you can come to the picnic."
"Picnic?" She looked at Zach. "It's winter."
"Winter picnic," he said, as if that was normal. It was, for DarkRiver. "It's informal, just a chance for people to get together before the Christmas madness."
"Please come, Miss Kildaire," Bryan pleaded.
"Please."
He saw Annie melt at that childish plea and knew he had her.
"All right," she said, and looked up. Her smile faded . . . because he'd let the cat seep into his eyes, let her see the dark hunger pumping through his blood.
"I'll pick you up at nine." He leaned closer, drawing in the scent of her. "Be ready for me, sweetheart."
Annie closed the door to her apartment and asked herself if she'd lost her mind. Not half an hour ago, she'd agreed to spend an entire day with a man so dangerous, a sane woman would've run in the opposite direction . . . instead of fantasizing about kissing him on those should-be-illegal lips. Her entire body went hot as she remembered the look in his eyes as he'd asked her to be ready for him. Dear God, the man was lethal.
"Calm down, Annie," she told herself. "It's not like he's really going to do anything." Because while Zach Quinn might've flirted with her, might even have looked at her as a man looks at a woman he wants, she was pragmatic enough to know that it had probably been nothing more than a momentary diversion on his part. A man that good-looking had to have women begging to crawl into his bed.
The idea of Zach sprawled in bed, all gleaming skin and liquid muscle, made her stomach flutter.
Then she imagined him crooking a finger, that teasing smile playing over his lips. "If he ever looks at me like that," she whispered, pulling the chopsticks out of her hair as she walked into the bedroom, "I'm a goner."
Her black hair tumbled around her face in a mass of soft curls.
Zach's hair had looked heavier than hers, sleeker.
Her thoughts went from his hair to what he might look like in leopard form. A predator, all muscle and power covered with a gold-and-black coat. Would he allow a woman to stroke him? Her fingers tingled in awareness, and standing as she was in front of the vanity mirror, she saw her lips part, her eyes widen.