Unleashed (3 page)

“Oh, mercy. I don't know.” She bit her lower lip. “A witch, maybe?”

“I think Wiccan is the politically correct term these days, and I'm not sure they can change people into things,” I answered, turning back to the cat. “Well, I don't know what sort of person would change someone into a jaguar. I mean, that's impossible to begin with, but I'm not very well versed on folklore, so I don't know what that would be, but whatever it is, I'm not one.”

Folklore
, he said slowly, as a speculative look came into his unnaturally blue eyes.
The Leshies!

Now that was a word I was familiar with. “Leshies? Did you say Leshies?”

Yes. Danielle's family, to be specific. Oh Christ, that I do remember. She wanted me to marry her.

“The animal whackos?” Cora asked.

The cat looked consideringly at her.
You know them?

“I do, a little. Cora doesn't.”

“I don't what?”

“Know the Leshies. I've dealt with them a few times,” I said cautiously.

You're not part of them, are you?

“No. I told you, I work for the state. But what does a group of animal rights activists have to do with you?” It was becoming easier and easier to believe that the cat wasn't what he seemed, although my brain had a hard time wrapping itself around the thought that the jaguar before me was really a man.

I just told you. Danielle wanted me to marry her. But I refused. Somehow, one of the Leshies changed me into a panther.

“Jaguar,” I said automatically.

I wonder who changed me? It was probably her father, the wicked old sod. She said he wouldn't let the matter lie when I turned her down.

“You're talking about Albert Baum, aren't you? I've never met his daughter, I'm afraid.”

That's the bastard. He did this to me! Well, if he thinks that's the end of the matter, he can bloody well think again. No one messes with a Moravian.

“What's he saying?” Cora hissed.

I gave her a brief rundown before turning back to the cat. “I'm sorry. I'm still confused. You keep saying you're from Moravia, but you're also Scottish?”

Moravians are commonly referred to in mortal terms as vampires
, he said absently. I could feel him thinking furiously, creating and discarding any number of plans of revenge.

“Vampires?” I gasped, the word reverberating in my brain.

“What?” Cora reeled back.

“Avery the cat says he's . . . a vampire,” I said, feeling my eyes bug out a little.

“Oh my God, not another one!” Cora wailed, scooting away from him. “They're everywhere!”

I'd prefer it if you would use the term Moravian. Vampire is so
Twilight
.

“The kind of vampire who sucks blood?” I asked, feeling it important to make that point clear.

Moravian. Yes. Do you have some sort of problem grasping that concept?

“A Dracula sort of vampire, with stakes, and children of the night?”

“They're following me!” Cora yelled as she turned and ran down the hallway toward the large metal back door. “Everywhere I go, they're there! First Patsy's neighbor, now a vampire cat—what next?”

The cat sighed into my mind and bumped my knee with his nose.
M-o-r . . . Oh, to hell with it. Call me whatever you want; it doesn't matter. I have to get back to the Leshy compound and make Albert Baum change me back.

“Back into a vampire.”

You seem to be stuck on that point.

“Well, you have to admit, you don't run into vampires every day,” I pointed out.

Actually, I do. My brothers are Moravians, as well, as I believe I just mentioned.
He wobbled over to the door that led to the area where the cats lived and banged his head on the doorknob.

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the faintest twinges of a tension headache. “Now, wait—that doesn't make sense. I've seen movies. What you're saying is that you're a werewolf vampire, and you know, that's completely against all the rules.”

Werepanther, I believe, would be the technical term. And who says there's a rule that Moravians can't be shape-shifters? Just because I don't know of any doesn't mean there haven't been some. Damn it. Come open this door for me.

“Werejaguar.”

Avery, werejaguar vampire cat, shot me a look filled with undiluted irritation.
Panther sounds more manly.

“It's a misnomer, however. You wouldn't want to go around telling people you're a panther when you're not, now, would you?”

Lovely. I get the anal-retentive cat whisperer
, he answered, trying to turn the doorknob by getting a grip on it with his teeth.

“I am not anal retentive! And stop that—you're getting slobber all over the handle. All right. For the sake of time, my sanity, and to keep my sister from having a nervous breakdown—Cora! Stop yelling. You're upsetting the cats in the back! Go outside to the truck and get the camera for me if you're upset. I'm just going to move past the whole impossibility of the situation. Just show me you are what you say you are, and I'll help you. How, I don't know, but I'll try my best.”

Show you?

“Yes, show me.”

Two furry black dots that were his eyebrows rose.
Is that a proposition? Because if it is, I'm going to be obliged to you if you could wait until I'm back in human form to take you up on it.

“I meant show me that you're a werejaguar vampire. Change.”

Change?

My hands did a fluttery thing. “What are you, a werejaguar vampire parrot now? Change. All the movies I've seen and books I've read say that were-whatevers can change their forms themselves. They don't need their girlfriend's father to do it for them.”

I am not a whatever. I am a Moravian werejaguar, and a damned nice specimen of one, if this handsome black coat is anything to go by. And Danielle wasn't my girlfriend. I don't have a girlfriend, thus making me able to take you up on your proposition later. She was just a means to an end.

“Thus thinketh many men,” I said, the vision of Greg rising briefly in my mind. “Very few actually come right out and say it, though. I may award you bonus points for that. So are you going to change or not?”

You might be on to something there
, he answered thoughtfully.
Let me see . . . hmm. How do you suppose you go about changing your form?

I shrugged. “I don't know; I'm not a werejaguar. I imagine concentrating might do the job. Maybe like meditation—clear your mind of everything but the image of you as a vampire, and see if that does the trick.”

His pretty blue eyes squinted at nothing as he focused his attention, one lip curling up as an odd, abstracted expression formed on his face.

“You look constipated.”

He stopped squinting to glare at me.
Flatterer.

“I meant that you're trying too hard. Haven't you ever done yoga or meditated? You need to relax, allow yourself to become one with the universe, let your mind wander. While, of course, holding the shape-shifting thought.”

When I get back to the Baum compound, there's going to be hell to pay
, he swore as he slumped down onto the ground, his big head between his paws.
I can't relax. I'm too stressed.

“For heaven's sake . . .” I plopped down onto the ground next to him, and scratched behind one of the rounded furry ears, gently moving across his neck to the other ear.

A low, thick, rough purr of delight answered the quasi massage. His eyes, which had been shut tight, popped open in surprise.
I can purr!

“All cats can, in some form or another. Yours is particularly . . .”

Masculine?

“Rough. Close your eyes again, let your thoughts go, and when you feel at peace, try to shift back into your normal form,” I said helpfully, waiting to see if he was speaking the truth. The idea of there really being vampires trotting around the earth was more than enough to raise my skeptical objections, but the thought of one who had been changed into a jaguar? That was beyond bizarre.

I kept stroking his head until the purr eventually trailed off, his breathing deep and slow. I was just about to nudge his shoulder in case he had drifted off to sleep when my vision went wonky, shimmering and blurring for a few seconds before the cat's body elongated, the mass of it stretching and changing until I sat gazing down with absolute astonishment at the man's blond head that lay under my stroking fingers.

He turned his head to the side to consider my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm before I could snatch it back.

“You're . . . human.”

“Not quite, but close enough to make no difference to you.”

“You're human. And . . . naked.” I couldn't help but notice that. I'd have to have been blind not to notice the thick curve of muscles on his bare shoulder and arm.

“Am I? So I am,” he said, pushing himself off the ground into a sitting position.

I tried not to look, I really did, but I would defy any woman to find herself sitting next to a naked man and not look. Especially when he was as easy on the eyes as this one was.

“Holy—”

“Mary and all the little saints. Yes, I know. You were right,” he said, smiling lazily at me. “All I had to do was relax. Thanks for petting me. Are you going to stare at my cock for long? I don't mind, but this floor is cold when you're not covered in fur.”

Blushing, I dragged my eyes up from his genitals to stare at his chest, my mouth slightly ajar, my brain refusing to understand what it was seeing. He leaned forward, gently placing a finger under my chin and closing my mouth, his gaze fastened on my lips. “Oh, what the hell,” he said, using his thumb to prod my chin down a smidgen. Then before I could ask him what on earth he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed me.

At least that was what it started out as, his lips moving across mine in a salute of gratitude, but the second his tongue slid between my lips, a sense of hunger rose in him, a primal, animalistic need to take from me, and what shocked me to my toenails was my desire to give him what he wanted.

“All right, I have the camera, and I insist that you come away from that fur-covered, bloodsucking Nos-feratu this instant—good Lord! He's attacking you!”

There was a whoosh of air and a metallic clang, followed almost immediately by the sound of a ripe melon being smacked with a blunt object.

“Get away from her, you fiend!” Cora yelled. I blinked at the sight of Avery laid out flat on his back, blood dripping slowly from a cut over his eye.

“What—”

“Come on! We have to run before he comes around!” Cora dropped the fire extinguisher and grabbed my arm, trying to haul me to my feet.

“He wasn't attacking me, you idiot! He was kissing me! What on earth have you done to the poor man?” I pushed Cora away to examine the bloody lump on Avery's head. He moaned as I gently pressed my fingers around the lump. “Thank God, I don't think you broke anything.”

“Jas!” Cora slapped her hands on her legs in frustration. “He's not a poor man; he's a vampire!”

“So? That's no reason to go braining him with a fire extinguisher. Avery? Can you hear me?”

“He's a
bloodsucker
! A naked bloodsucker! Everyone knows those are the worst kind!”

“Don't be ridiculous.” I pushed a lock of his hair away from the blood. Avery moaned again, turning his face into my leg as he swore softly.

“Don't you understand, Jas? He drinks people's blood!”

“You were absolutely fine with him when you thought he was a werejaguar,” I pointed out.

“That's different!”

“Oh really? How?”

She blinked at me. “He's . . . deadly.”

“I'm deadly in any form,” Avery said, touching his wound and wincing. “Bloody hell, woman. What did you hit me with?”

“You don't want to know,” I told him, helping him sit up. I had to admit I didn't at all mind the silky sensation of his naked back against my hands. “How do you feel?”

“That's it. I give up. He's clearly got you under his sway, or lure, or whatever it is vampires do. There's no hope for you now,” Cora said, slumping down the wall to sit on the floor. “Next you'll be eating bugs and calling him master.”

“It's called a thrall, and we don't do that,” Avery told her, squinting at the blood on his fingers.

“You don't?” she asked.

“No.” He gave me a long look; then one side of his mouth quirked up. “Although you
can
call me master if you like.”

Chapter 3

“I still don't think this is a good idea.”

“I know you don't, Cora. But if you can think of another way to explain to Allison and Jo and the other ladies why the jaguar they all saw has disappeared, leaving Avery in its place, then I'm all ears. Because frankly, I barely believe what happened myself—speaking of which, I think we deserve extra bonus points for not running around screaming with our hands waving in the air—and I just don't think I'm up to the explanations needed that would convince five other people of what really happened.”

“Hrmph.” She glared at the tall figure of a man as he emerged from the small room that served as a hospital for the cats in residence. Luckily, the vet who came by twice a week was male, and if he was heavier and shorter than Avery, at least his emergency clothing fit well enough for Avery to leave the building. “I don't trust him, not one little bit.”

“Life's a bitch,” I said absently as I tucked my tranquilizing gun back into its holster.

“Jas!”

I paused with my hand on the knob of the back door, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “What?”

“He's a
vampire
!” she hissed, glancing over her shoulder at Avery as he walked toward us. Somehow, he'd acquired a baseball cap and a beat-up leather jacket that had clearly seen better days.

“So?”

“Just a little bit ago you were telling me they didn't exist.”

“Clearly I was wrong. I mean, you can't deny the evidence, Cora. What we have here is a shape-shifting vampire, which I gather is fairly rare.”

“What's rare?” Avery asked as he stopped next to us. He slipped into the coat and pulled the brim of the hat low on his forehead.

“You are.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I guess I am. I can't think of any other Moravian who's also a therion.”

“A what, now?” I asked, glaring at my sister as she glared at Avery.

“Therion.” He gave me an odd look. “Someone who can change their shape at will to that of an animal.”

“Is there such a thing as a non-therion?” I couldn't help but ask. “Other than the obvious, I mean?”

“Someone who shifts but isn't in control of it?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Yes. Weres.”

“Whats?”

“No, weres.”

“If you say who's on first, I'm going to deck you,” my sister told me with a warning glint in her eye.

I smiled at her. “I think he means weres as in were-wolves.”

“Werewolves are a fallacy,” Avery said, gesturing toward the door. “Mortal lore says they can shift back to human form, but true weres can't. May we leave? I have an old man to gullet.”

“Sure. But . . . is the sunlight thing a fallacy, too?”

“Sunlight? Oh—only somewhat. Moravians can go out in the sun if we have protection against prolonged exposure. Hence the jacket and hat.”

“Gotcha. Just let me check to make sure the coast is clear.” I opened the door a few inches and peered out. Five pairs of eyes turned en masse to look back at me. “Um. Hi. Er . . .” I opened the door more fully. “Sorry to keep you all waiting so long.”

“Is everything all right?” Allison asked as Jo craned her head to look beyond me into the darkened hallway. “We were beginning to get worried. Is the cat injured badly?”

“No, not at all. He's fine, in . . . er . . . remarkably good shape. It took me a while to examine him, and then of course, I wanted to speak to his owner when he came to pick up the cat.”

“His owner?” The five ladies wore identical expressions of surprise as I stepped out, followed by Cora and Avery.

“This is Avery Scott. He . . . er . . . owns the cat who was left by mistake at your shelter. Evidently the cat was ill and Avery asked someone to take it to a specialist vet while he was off on a business trip, and it was brought here instead,” I said quickly, trotting out the admittedly weak story we had hurriedly concocted.

The five pairs of eyes turned to look at Avery, standing in the shadow of the building. He smiled. “I'm so sorry for any trouble that my extremely handsome panther—”

“Jaguar.”

“Might have caused you ladies, but I assure you that you will not be forced to endure such inconvenience again.”

“But . . .” Allison faltered, and looked helplessly at Jo.

“Where's he gone?” Jo asked in her usual blunt manner. “We didn't see anyone.”

“Gone? The cat?” I glanced at Avery. We were so rushed that we had forgotten to come up with an explanation of to where exactly the cat had been spirited away.

“My friend picked him up at the front door,” Avery said without batting so much as an eyelash. “I have a special car for him. The cat, not the friend.”

“We didn't hear anyone pull up front, either,” Jo said, her brows pulling together as she eyed Avery.

I moved in front of him to block her view, lest she recognize the vet's spare clothes. “It was one of those new hybrid cars, very quiet. All's clear in your shelter now, though, so you can feel free to go inside and take care of all those hungry kitties. Avery, I'll give you a lift since your friend took your car away.”

“That was the lamest, most unbelievable story I've ever heard,” Cora grumbled as we hurried toward the truck. “A friend came to pick up the cat in a hybrid car! Honestly, Jas, couldn't you have thought of something a little more realistic?”

“Shush, they'll hear you,” I warned, glancing back. The three workers had gone inside. Jo stood at the door, holding it for Allison, who was watching us, an odd expression on her face. As Avery and Cora slid into the truck, she smiled, and I could have sworn winked at me.

“So here we are, trapped in a small truck with a man-eating vampire therion jaguar,” Cora said, digging her elbow into me as she made herself comfortable.

“Actually, I prefer women as my dinner companions, and do I sense a subtle hostility regarding my origins?” Avery asked politely, pulling down the visor and angling it toward the side of the window where the morning sun was spilling sunlight into the truck.

“You do, you murderous fiend. It was a vampire who bit the lady who decapitated me with her ox cart. The same vampire who lives next door to my best friend, except now she can't remember anything because he did some weird brain thing to her, so she won't believe me when I tell her what happened that night, and what's more, she refuses to move. Luckily, she has retained enough wits to also refuse to give him my name and address, so he can't hunt me down and kill me as he did the ox lady.”

Avery's expression of disbelief was priceless. He transferred his gaze of stark confusion from Cora to me. “Your sister was decapitated?”

“It was a past-life regression,” I said, waving at Jo as she and Allison entered the shelter. “I assume we can drop you off somewhere?”

He named a rural mountain town about half an hour away. “Since I seem to be without a vehicle, hybrid or otherwise, I would appreciate a ride.”

“No problem,” I said, pulling out onto the highway. “So, how is it that a Scottish vampire is in the Pacific Northwest?”

“Will you stop that?” Cora demanded, pinching my wrist.

“Stop what?” I asked, surprised once again by her rudeness.

“You're chitchatting with him!”

“So?”

“He's a vampire! He just wants one thing from you.”

“Brains?” I asked, feeling my lips twitch with the effort not to smile.

Avery's lips, I couldn't help but notice from a glance that way, did the same.

“No, you idiot, that's zombies.”

“Blood, then. Do you want to drink my blood, Avery?” I asked over her head.

“I'm not particularly hungry at this moment, but if you were offering, I certainly wouldn't turn you down,” he said with a devilish twinkle in those clear blue eyes.

Warning sirens went off in my brain, but I ignored them. Oh, I could tell he was a ladies' man, that he was quite comfortable with who he was, and that he could probably charm the spots off a cheetah, but that didn't mean I couldn't appreciate him for the eye candy he was.

“Your pants,” Cora announced, nodding when both Avery and I glanced at her in surprise. “That's what he wants. Or rather, that's what he wants to get into. Don't look at me like that, Jas—I've read all sorts of vampire books, and they all have one thing in common.”

“Sparkles?”

She shot me a look of scorn. “No. Vampires are always oversexed stud muffins who just want to get into women's pants. And the way this one was sucking your face, it's obvious he wants into yours. If I hadn't come along when I did, he probably would have been boinking you in the hallway of the cat shelter.”

We stopped at a red light, giving me an opportunity to assess Avery. “Would you have boinked me in the hallway?”

“No,” he said, his lips curving into a slow, sensuous smile that suddenly had me warm all over.

“I think you owe Avery an apology,” I told my sister, clearing my throat and wondering if anyone would notice if I turned on the air-conditioning.

She pursed her lips at him and waited.

His smile changed into a grin. “The floor in the hallway was too cold, Jacintha. Now, the room beyond had a lovely rug. I would have boinked you there.”

I couldn't help myself; I laughed, Avery joining in with me. Only Cora didn't see the humor, muttering darkly to herself as we drove.

“You didn't answer my question earlier,” I reminded Avery.

“I did. I meant it, too. That rug in the other room—”

“The question of why you're here in the first place,” I interrupted, wondering for just a moment if he really was serious.

Quite serious.

I almost ran the truck into the side of a small bait and ammo shop at the sound of his voice in my head. The truck fishtailed on the thankfully empty gravel parking area as I slammed on the brakes, bringing us to a shuddering halt.

“What the hell?” Cora asked as I turned a shocked face at Avery. His eyes were wide with surprise, as well.

“You talked to me!”

“Yes.”

“In my head, you talked to me like you did when you were a jaguar. But you're not a cat now. The cat whispering was one thing, but this—this is different.”

“I know.” His expression froze for a moment. “You can't be.”

“I can't be what?” I asked, confused and jittery from the blast of adrenaline that roared through me when we spun into the parking lot. Shakily, I turned off the engine, feeling I needed a couple of minutes to gather my wits again.

“A Beloved?”

“Huh?”

“You're coming on to my sister, aren't you?” Cora demanded, giving him a dirty look.

“No, I'm not,” he answered in an abstracted tone, his gaze flicking over me as if he were making an inventory of my person. “The word Beloved to a Dark One has a different meaning than the term of affection, although it is based on that. It is a term we use for a soul mate, the one woman who can redeem a Dark One's soul, returning it to him.”

“And to think when I woke up this morning I figured it was going to be just another mundane Friday, the kind that doesn't involve shape-shifting vampires who don't have souls. Wait a second—you told me at the shelter you had your soul. Is this Beloved thing what you were talking about?”

“Yes.” He continued to look thoughtfully at me. “And I do have my soul—I don't need it redeemed, but I seem to have marked you.”

Cora snorted indignantly.

“I beg your pardon!” I was somewhat outraged at the idea of this marking. Why, I didn't quite know, since it was obvious he hadn't harmed me in any way.

“In this case, the marking is the ability to speak directly to each other without using words,” he explained, a slight frown pulling his dark blond brows together.

“Which means, what? That I'm this soul-redeemer you don't need?”

“Why not?” he said, shrugging, as if he had been arguing with himself. “Other Moravians have them. Why shouldn't I? It's just that I didn't expect it.” His slow smile caused my stomach to tighten as he reached across Cora and pulled me toward him. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Hey!” Cora objected as she was smashed into the back of the seat. “Get off me, you bloodthirsty ghoul!”

“Kiss me. Suck my tongue,” Avery demanded, trying to haul me across Cora. The seat belt wouldn't allow him to do more than cause my back to wrench painfully.

“Oh my God, I knew it! He's trying to get into your pants, right here in front of me!” Cora shrieked, slapping at his arms.

“Be quiet, woman!” Avery thundered, impatiently unhooking his seat belt, then doing the same for Cora. Before she could do more than squawk, he hoisted her onto his lap.

“If you think copping a grope on my sister is going to encourage me to French kiss you, you need to think again,” I told him sternly. “I do not share my men.”

He rolled his eyes, scooted over to where Cora had been sitting, then summarily dumped her into his spot, next to the passenger door. “Kiss me. It's the third step.”

“Third step of what?”

“Joining. Kiss me, damn it!”

“Why?” I asked, suspicious all of a sudden, although more than a little overwhelmed with both his demands, and the sudden nearness of him, pressed up next to me, all hard lines and muscles and body heat that made me feel very feminine, even in my work uniform.

“Confirmation,” he said, a moment before his lips descended on mine.

“Where the hell is a fire extinguisher when you need one?” I heard Cora yell, but dimly, as if she were at a distance away. Every ounce of my attention was focused on Avery: Avery and his tongue, Avery and the hard, warm chest I was pulled up against, Avery and the little tremors of heat that seemed to come from his fingers as they stroked the back of my neck. But most of all, I focused on the strange presence in my mind that I recognized as being him. I was flooded with all sorts of emotions that weren't mine, everything from arousal (which I was somewhat disconcerted to realize matched my own), to surprise, to a deep, burning hunger that burst into being with a strength that rocked me.