Cattitude (4 page)

A squirrel. Must’ve been a squirrel.

“C’mon, let’s go to the hospital,” Ted
said.

The woman burrowed her face into Max’s
jacket, her head just under his chin.

A perfect fit, he thought, and his arms
tightened around her.

***

Belle jerked her head away from Max’s chest.
Wasn’t it bad enough she was inside this human body? With these
clumsy arms that didn’t propel her forward when she wanted to leap
and run? With this ugly furless skin? And now Max wanted to take
her to the hospital. How could he do something so horrible?

Three years of sitting on Tory’s lap, being
petted while they watched Tory’s favorite TV show,
The Love
Chronicles
, had taught Belle what happened in hospitals. People
would poke and prod her and stick her with needles. Plus, she might
fall in love, lose her memory, be murdered by someone disguised as
a doctor, and maybe have a baby. A
human
baby.

No! She was not going to let that happen.

Belle’s arms dropped from around his back.
Her palms slammed into his chest, and he lurched backward. The
blanket slid off her shoulders and pooled around her ankles. She
leaped, twisting to face the ditch and thicket of trees. The
heaviness of her new body made her land with a stagger. Then she
followed her feline instincts and sprang forward.

“What the hell—” Max shouted.

Belle lurched. Her human legs didn’t want to
obey her. She tried to force them to move faster, but it was like
wading through snow. Crouching to avoid low tree branches, she
darted into the trees at a fraction of her normal speed.

This was her environment. As fast as Max was,
he wouldn’t catch her unless she let him, even with his clumsy
limbs.

“Get back here,” he called. “I’m trying to
help you.”

“She looks pretty damn healthy to me.” The
amusement in Ted’s voice carried to Belle. “If she wants to go, let
her.”

“I’m not leaving until I find her,” Max
said.

Crashing noises came from the trees near the
road. Max. She put her hand over her mouth, to stop a cry from
coming out. She’d never thought she’d run from him. Never thought
he’d be the one that made her heart thump in fear.

Her human feet made noises too. She glanced
down at them. They were covered with soft-soled tie shoes like the
ones Max and Ted wore. Maybe if she walked on the balls of her
feet, she wouldn’t crunch with every step. She’d be quiet...like a
cat.

For two steps she tried, but walking this way
was slower than stalking an ant. The crashing noises moved to her
left. Close, too close. Belle spied a tree with low branches,
grabbed the closest branch and pulled herself up. Her arms ached,
as if they didn’t want to do this. She set her mouth and commanded
them to obey.

This human body was so clumsy. No stretch, no
agility, no energy.

Belle hated it. Where was her cat body? She
wanted it back.

Max smashed through the woods, leaves
crunching beneath his shoes, branches cracking. Belle changed her
opinion that dogs were the clumsiest creatures. Her muscles
straining, she pulled up to another branch, then another.

None of the branches had leaves. If he looked
up...

Biting back gasping breaths, Belle hung on.
Max walked below her, looking at the ground, as if for tracks.
Stopping, he glanced around.

“Where are you?” he shouted.

Belle clasped the branch, its bark rough on
her soft human hands. She couldn’t go to the hospital. She had to
stay here, find her cat body and claim it back.

Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t
look—

She stopped her silent commands. The last
time she wanted something so fervently was when Caroline flung her
into the path of the car. Her frantic plea had worked, but look
what happened. If it worked this time, she might change into a
bird.

Belle shuddered. Being a bird would be worse
than being a human. Cats
ate
birds.

Max raised his head—a movement that made
Belle swallow a whimper—and he called out, “If you come right now,
I’ll help you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You have my word on
it.” He cocked his head, listening and waiting.

Belle clung to the branch, afraid to breathe.
Her hands were growing colder by the second. She wanted to drop
into his arms and let him take care of her. But she was a cat, not
a puny human who let Max do everything for her like his mother,
sister, and sometimes Ted. Sure, she let Max feed and water her,
but look what she did in return. He didn’t see any mice in his
house, did he?

She didn’t need Max to fix this. She’d fix it
herself.

He turned, dried leaves crunching underneath
his heavy feet. In a moment, he disappeared from her view but not
her hearing. The smashing sounds moved toward the road, and she bit
her lower lip, swallowing the urge to call out to him. Moments
passed, and her hands grew numb. Two birds landed on the branch
above her. A squirrel scampered down the tree next to her.

Her muscles tightened and she stopped her
breath, her eyes narrowing in on her prey, her body in hunting
mode. A lesser animal would’ve given into the urge to leap at it.
But she was trapped inside this awkward human frame. Exhaling, she
forced her muscles to relax slightly and adjusted her grip on the
knotty branch. Then she waited.

The woman with her cat body had to be nearby.
She knew it. And she wasn’t going away until she found her.

“That wind’s wicked.” Ted hunched his
shoulders. “She wants to stay, let her.”

Max smacked his fist into his palm. If he was
cold in his leather jacket, how cold must the woman be in her cloth
one? He tossed the keys to Ted.

“Take the car. I’ll get home when I get
home.”

Ted shook his head. “I knew you’d say that.
You can’t resist a stray.”

“Go. Get out of here.” Max gave Ted a
dismissive nod.

“You really think I’ll leave? We could have
an escaped serial killer on our land.”

“Or an injured woman.”

“You don’t know her or why she’s afraid of
going to the hospital.”

“A lot of people have hospital phobias.”

“A lot of people have criminal records.”

Max tried to entertain the idea, but his mind
shut down, rejecting it. He’d held her small-boned body in his
arms, felt her trembling alarm. Something had traumatized her. She
needed help. His help.

“She was in an accident,” Ted said, “yet
she’s running away. What does that tell you?”

“No other car was involved. When did you find
the stick that’s up your ass?”

“About the same time you pulled it out of
yours.” Ted held his palms out and stepped back, laughing. “Amazing
how fast everything can change. Just this morning I was thinking
how boring my life was becoming.”

Max glanced behind them at the silent woods.
She was in there somewhere. Alone and scared and cold. “When I find
her, you can thank her for her entertainment value.”

“
If
you find her.” The smile in Ted’s
eyes disappeared before his mouth pressed together, a sternness
that didn’t suit his fun-loving character.

“Not if. When.” Max strode to the side of the
road and grabbed the black purse Ted had dropped.

“What’re you doing?”

Max ignored the question. He rummaged inside
the bag and fished out a navy wallet. He opened it. No photos,
three grocery store cards, a debit card and a driver’s license. He
slid out the license.

Ted breathed over his shoulder. “Sorcha
Anders. A nice Scottish name. And thirty-one, just the right
age.”

“Too old for you,” Max snapped.

“Maybe I was talking about you.”

Max gave his grinning brother a look that
should have made him burst into flames.

“Or maybe I was talking about me,” Ted
continued. “What’s seven years?”

“You ever shut up?”

Ted laughed, slapping his thigh. “You’re
jealous. I don’t blame you. What woman would want an old worn-out
man like you when she could have a young stud like me?”

“You’re talking like an ass.” Max rifled
through her money. A ten, a five, three singles. A coupon for fifty
cents off a brand of cheese. No insurance cards, no photos. A
private woman. He should feel guilty for invading her privacy, but
he didn’t. In those few moments when she’d clung to him, they’d
bonded. She’d trusted him to help her. Even though she ran from
him, he wasn’t turning his back on that trust.

It was illogical, but he saved his logic for
business, not people.

“Didn’t I say you needed a damsel in
distress?” Ted cuffed him on his bicep again. “Man, was I
right.”

Shoving the wallet into his back pocket, Max
said, “Either you help look for her, or get back to the house and
stay the hell out of my way.”

“Your mind’s made up?”

Max thrust past Ted, slipping into the woods.
The time for talking was over. The time was action was now.

***

I’m a cat!
Sorcha looked at her
trembling fur-covered legs. This was insane. It had to be a
reaction from the accident. Things like this didn’t happen.

But the two men stomping through the woods
toward her sounded all too real, like ten men to her new
super-powered hearing. She dived into a pile of dead leaves. Her
quivering body shook leaves off the top of the pile and she peeked
out at the men.

She’d already tried to climb a tree, her
claws catching on the rough bark. Halfway up, she’d glanced down,
her claws retracted, and she’d tumbled to the ground.

Why wasn’t she dead? She’d seen the cat’s
eyes glaze over, the life force leaving the small body. She’d
wanted it to be her, not the cat. That’s what she’d prayed for.

Half of her request had come true.

The older man tramped a step ahead of the
younger one. She’d heard him try to get the cat inside her body to
say his name. Max. A strong name for a strong man. One look at the
determined set of his chin, and she saw he was in charge. The kind
of man who knew what he wanted and where he was going. The kind of
man who made her want to run the other way, as far and fast as
these four furry legs would take her.

The younger one looked like more fun. He
smiled often, the dimples in his cheeks indenting. Max had no
dimples. The younger man’s chin was rounded, his nose high-bridged.
Max’s chin was square and stubborn and his nose...impressive. He
looked like whatever he put his mind to, he’d accomplish.

No one would have called Fletcher impressive.
Or accomplished. He wasn’t even an effective blackmailer.

A plaintive meow escaped her throat.

Immediately, the footsteps stomping through
the forest stopped, then changed direction. Turning in a slow
circle, the younger man reconnoitered the area.

“Is that you, Belle?”

Belle. She glanced down at the dainty body
covered with medium-length gray fur. A southern belle, or perhaps a
silver bell. So that’s whose body she occupied. She’d worn
secondhand clothes before, but this was the first time she wore
secondhand fur.

The younger man hiked toward her, and she
burrowed beneath the dead leaves. Both men seemed helpful, staying
to search for her. Well, not her. For her body—currently occupied
by the cat, but they didn’t know that. And if they found her
instead, what would happen? Would they think she was their cat and
take her back to the house?

She couldn’t let that happen.

Someone had thrown the cat at her car. She
hadn’t seen the person, but by the rate of force she was positive
the cat had been flung directly at her windshield. Someone had been
trying to kill it.

If she went back in this cat body...

Not too long ago she’d wanted to die. The
only person who ever loved her was dead. Why should she care if
someone killed her in the cat form?

But she did. Maybe it was the cat body that
didn’t want to die. But she cared terribly.

A strangled sound came from her throat.

“Is that Belle?” another voice asked, deeper
and more commanding.

Inching her head out of the leaves like a
worm, Sorcha peeked at Max’s granite face, about ten feet away. Her
heart fluttered so fiercely her whole body quivered. He scared her.
He was too masculine. Too positive. The kind of man who would never
understand a person like her.

“I thought I saw her out here earlier,” he
said.

The younger man shrugged. “Could’ve been any
cat.”

“If you find a stray, bring it in.”

“Taking on another needy creature?”

“Stuff it.” Max turned and strode away.

Ducking back beneath the leaves, Sorcha
shivered. She couldn’t let either of them find her. She had to get
away.

Sorcha used her claws to push leaves to the
side, then saw the younger man’s feet pass over her head. “Sorcha,”
he called. “C’mon, Sorcha, don’t be afraid. We’ll make sure no one
hurts you.”

No
, she thought, even though she knew
he was calling the cat that was using her body.
I’ll make sure
no one hurts me
.

After all, the last man who promised to take
care of her was murdered. She had to do a better job than that.

The younger man disappeared into the trees,
his footsteps squishing on wet leaves. Sorcha poked her head up and
climbed out of the pile of leaves. Ignoring an urge to lick herself
clean, she leapt away from the two men and ran.

***

“Sorcha,” Max called. “Sorcha.”

Belle watched from her tree branch. Sorcha
must be the woman whose body she was temporarily using. Not a bad
name, but not as good as her own. Not a bad body either, as far as
human bodies went. For a human, it seemed sleek. But not as sleek
as she was accustomed to.

Her chest ached with an unaccustomed emotion.
The way she felt when she couldn’t go outside with Max. Only this
was many times worse.