Leopard Moon (5 page)
But to do that he needed his sister.
He opened the front door and stepped outside, walking through the lush grass to face the ocean. He remembered how he and Kess used to take turns burying each other in the sand, the hot sun baking their bones until they thought they'd liquefy. He remembered the humid nights, the black canvas of sky pressing close on them as they raced side by side through the Everglades. He remembered and he missed her. He missed the scent of her, the sound of her voice as she talked about some ridiculous incident at school, her presence in the sprawling house they had shared. Everything felt so empty without her.
How could he explain the lack of her to anyone so they would understand? It had been the two of them for so long. Father had never gotten over the loss of their mother and had left them to their own devices. But he'd seen to it that Kess never wanted for anything, that she never felt the lack of their father.
And she'd left him.
"Any word?" he asked, as he always did.
Bomani's silence was his answer. "Hire more men. Find her."
"Your father..."
Sek cut him off. "FIND. HER." He didn't care what his father might say about it.
Perhaps Darius had led the clan astray; maybe they were being punished. That could be why the clan dwindled, why no new werecats had been born into the clan since Kess. Sek tapped his cheek absently. It bore more thought certainly.
He felt Bomani leave. Then he stood alone for a long time staring out at the blackened ocean.
Kess awoke to a gnawing hunger in her stomach. She lurched up, confused as to where she was at first, then settled back down once she remembered the day before. Light was leaking in through the gap where the curtains met, but it wasn’t very bright. She checked her watch. It was only 7:30. She wanted to stay in the warm bed for a little longer, but her stomach groaned in protest and a stab of pain shot through her. Definitely time to get some food.
She rooted through her duffle for her only other clean pair of jeans and slid into them. The fire had burned itself out in the night and while the heat was on, it didn’t really warm up the monolith of a house, so she also nabbed an old sweatshirt and tossed that over her head before heading out in bare feet. Her hunger would not wait.
It was quiet, until she reached the first floor. The dining room was empty, but food was already set out. Baskets of muffins and breads sat near butter and jam and a toaster oven. Several boxes of cereal were laid out with bowls and carafes of milk sitting on ice. There was a row of small steam trays that contained scrambled eggs, sausage—both links and patties—and bacon. Juices and coffee and hot water for tea sat on a separate table. It was a ridiculous amount of food for just three people, but Kess wasn’t complaining at the moment. She could hear noise coming from what must be the kitchen. She put some bread in the toaster oven, piled a plate with eggs and sausage and stuck her head back there.
"Hello?"
Anita’s head popped up around the enormous refrigerator door that was blocking her view. "Hey Kess. How’d you sleep?"
"Like a rock," she replied, shoveling a huge forkful of egg into her mouth. "This is great, but do you always cook for an army? When you said breakfast, I didn’t expect so…much."
Anita laughed, then shooed her out. "My husband eats like an army. He should be down in a minute and you’ll see him inhale a metric ton of bacon before he leaves for work. Go get some before it’s all gone." Kess figured she must have looked quizzical because Anita clarified, "He works up on the mountain building log cabins. I pack him a lunch but he burns right through it."
Kess returned to the dining room and fixed herself some toast and a cup of tea. She went back and snagged some of the bacon and another helping of sausage and retreated to a chair at the end of the dining room table. She was going back for her third helping of eggs when the tread of heavy work boots clomped toward the dining room.
The barge of a man that entered caused Kess to choke on her toast. She had never seen anyone so built. Sure, there had been the hardbodies at South Beach and her own clan were no slouches when it came to size, but this guy looked like he could bench press the mountain and probably had. Repeatedly. He was easily six and a half feet tall, well over 250 pounds—none of which had bled to fat even though he looked to be her dad’s age—and solid as a redwood. Obviously he came and went through the doors of this house so he must fit through them, otherwise Kess might suspect they built the place around him.
"You’re Kess, right? I’m Bran." He engulfed her hand in one the size of a dinner plate. "Sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself last night."
He had dark hair shot through with streaks of grey, in both hair and beard. He was ruddy, the complexion of a man used to living outdoors. Blue eyes assessed her from beneath heavy brows. Then he smiled and his face lost ten years. Kess tentatively smiled back. "I went to bed early. I guess I’m not used to all of this fresh mountain air." She grinned ruefully.
"Mind if I join you?"
Kess shook her head and watched him as he packed his plate with the same amount of food it had taken her three trips to eat. Anita came out from the kitchen carrying a large metal lunch box and thermos. She placed these on the table, gave her husband a peck on the cheek and then went to get coffee for the two of them.
His loaded plate thunked down on the tabletop and Kess noted that Anita had not been exaggerating about the bacon. "Thanks, babe," he said in a pleasant baritone rumble as Anita placed a mug of coffee in front of him then sat down to drink her own. They began to talk about the day ahead while Kess finished off her breakfast and tried not to stare at Bran. Brawny, that was the word she’d been looking for. She let the wash of their conversation roll over her as she stared into her teacup. Such a convivial morning atmosphere was something she hadn’t experienced or participated in for a very long time.
"Anita mentioned you were thinking of checking out the Barn," Bran said, turning his attention to her. At her nod, he continued. "Tell Griffin hello for me if you head out that way."
"Um, sure. Who is Griffin?" Kess drew her thoughts away from her home, her real home, not the made up one that she used for housing applications and quick answers that didn’t lead to more questions.
"He owns the Barn," Anita supplied. "He’s there most days—old friend of ours. You’ll most likely see him if you drop off that application." She slid the lunch box and thermos over to Bran at the sound a honk. "Your ride’s here."
"Duty calls." Bran inclined his head to Kess. "Nice to meet you, young lady."
"Likewise," she returned. She watched Anita walk with him out of the dining room, then collected up the detritus of breakfast and brought it into the kitchen. As she rinsed off the plates and tucked them into the dishwasher, she thought about Anita and Bran. They seemed so open, so easy with each other.
It was a marked difference from her own family. Her mother had died when she was born, leaving her father alone to raise both her and her older brother. Sek was four when their mother had died and the loss had hit him hard. Her father, Darius, had withdrawn after her mother's death, leaving the two children to be raised by a series of nannies. Kess knew he had tried to be a good parent, but there was always a distance between all of them, like a vast gulf that none of them even knew how to cross.
Still, her father tried to connect with them when he could. He made sure she had everything she could ever want. If she needed to talk to him, he always made time for her. The rare times they took family vacations, he'd always been undeniably present, taking them on tours and playing with them for hours. As they got older, Darius spent more time with Sek, training him to be the next head of their clan. And while Darius had never been the "chaperone the field trip" kind of father, there was no doubt in Kess' mind that he loved his children.
But she and Sek were left to fend for themselves most of the time. It was the way with her clan; even had her mother survived, there wouldn’t have been such warmth and openness like she saw with Anita and Bran. Cats liked their solitude and their secrets, even with each other. She knew her people could love deeply—her father was proof of that—but they weren’t demonstrative or overt in their affection, unless it related to sex. Sek had been the only one she knew of in the clan who had been touchy-feely, which maybe should have been a sign that something was wrong.
Still, there was a part of her that missed that closeness. She and Sek had been inseparable for most of her life. There were a lot of good memories she still held on to: when she was eight and the two of them were making chocolate chip cookies in the kitchen and eating most of the batter before their usual Friday night movie; at five when she’d broken her arm roller skating around the circular drive of their house and Sek had been the one to wipe her tears and make her feel better during the wait at the emergency room; at ten when the two of them took turns wakeboarding out on the water, each trying to out-trick the other, both of them looking like drowned rats by the end. All that and more she remembered and missed.
Her hand tightened on the plate she was washing. There were other things she didn’t miss: Sek humiliating her when he came to find her and take her home when he found out she was on a group date, Sek listening to her phone messages, Sek spying on her, Sek setting her a new curfew and telling her who she could be friends with. Sek telling her how busy their father was, and how if she needed anything she could come to him instead. Sek being a colossal asshole and trying to control every aspect of her life, until the one night…
The plate slipped out of her soapy hands and banged loudly off the stainless steel sink. Kess scrabbled after it, startled at the noise. She finished washing quickly, not allowing her thoughts to drift to unpleasant topics.
Anita came back from seeing her husband off. "What are you doing? You don’t have to clean up."
Kess dried her hands on a paper towel and threw it in the trash. "Wanted to make myself useful." She shrugged, then smiled. "Thanks for breakfast."
"Quite welcome." Anita opened up the freezer door and removing what looked like a couple of frozen steaks. "And if you need other suggestions than the Barn, just let me know." Kess nodded and returned to her room. She had a job to find.
***********
Kess showed up at the Barn well before the lunch rush. The Barn was just that, a huge red barn that had been converted into a restaurant and bar. The entrance was lined with farming implements and benches, but once you entered the establishment itself, the farmy quaintness stopped.
The host area abutted the main dining room. A staircase opened to the left of it, leading up to another dining room that Kess was told could be rented out for special occasions, large parties or during high volume evenings. The bar was to the right of the host stand, separate from the main dining room and ran along the far side of the outer wall. It held a number of high top tables. This was where Kess waited, sipping a glass of water and looking over the lunch menu.
She had already turned in her completed application and spoken with the dining room manager. Now she waited to talk to someone else integral to the hiring process. She had gone with black pants and a black button down shirt, which just so happened to be the uniform at the Barn. She had let her hair hang loose, but she had stowed everything she needed to put it up in her bag, just in case she could start right away. Kess looked around, enjoying the atmosphere of the Barn; it was completely different than anything she would have found in Miami, or even the part of California where she’d been living until a few days ago.
She heard footsteps long before anyone came into view. A man who looked only slightly older than Bran had paused in the doorway to talk to Nancy, the manager she had already spoken with. He looked over to where she sat.
The man crossed the bar, stopping at her table. "Miss Saroyan?" he asked with a smile.
"Kess," she replied extending her hand to him. He took it in a warm grip and shook it firmly.
"Griffin, but everyone calls me Griff." He sat down in the chair across from her. He held her application in his hand.
"Pleasure to meet you." Kess took a moment to get a good look at Bran's friend. Griff was barrel-chested and broad, standing a little over six feet. His hair was sandy with grey streaking through it at the temples and streaking through his neat beard. His face was relaxed and open and he looked more accustomed to smiling than frowning. Kess liked him instantly.
"You're looking for a server position," he said, eyes flicking over the application before looking back up at her. She nodded. "You've got a lot of experience waiting tables."
"I've been waitressing since high school."
"Moved around quite a bit too," he noted. "Your last job was in California?" At her nod, he asked, "What brings you out east?"
"Needed a change. Trying to save up money to go to school and wanted a fresh start. California was nice, but I'm more of an east coast girl." She tried to keep her story sufficiently vague. If he was friends with Bran and Anita, they'd probably fill him in on her made-up past anyway.
He looked down at the application again. "I hear that. Couldn't imagine being away from these mountains. I like to travel but it is nice to come home."
