Markings (19 page)

Chapter 21: Home Base

I
stared out the Cougar’s windshield. We’d driven for nearly an hour across the reserve, weaseled our way through incredibly dark, closely-knit trees. We were pulling into a misplaced slab of pavement in the middle of a clearing. The lot had no lines. Besides us, four other cars were parked here.

The reserve had two entrances: one on the north side at the shelter’s location, and one in the south, where Joey had finally turned up this morning at the other shelter, claiming he’d been separated from his team. Rumors were circulating about him and some foxy lynx who’d just come in from Tillamook County.

I spotted a dusty jeep a few yards over. “Are Tom and Trinity here already?”

“They might be.” Aaron cut the engine and pulled his sweatshirt off. After smoothing his red shirt, he flipped the visor down. I watched as he looked in the mirror, brushing his hair from his face.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop it. You look perfect as always.”

“As always?” His mouth tipped into a sideways smile.

“Yes, as always, you show off.” Avoiding his eyes, I picked at a loose string in my pants.

“Oh,
I’m
the showoff,” he said, eyeing my shirt.

I’d pulled on a lacy shirt and some skinny jeans for my evening out. What do you wear to a meeting with half-humans anyway?

“Stop fidgeting.” Aaron reached over, hand closing over mine. “You don’t need to be nervous. We’re going to slip you inside as he’s sending the hunt off then you’ll get to know each other, and bam! Night’s over.”

I inhaled, my breath catching in my throat. “Yeah. Okay.”

The evening wind sent the trees swaying and nipping at our skins. I shivered, watching their branches move back and forth, as if waving at the clan’s leader-to-be. Aaron wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently rubbing my arm. My skin popped with goose bumps.

The trek through the trees was cool and silent, all on flat ground. We walked in the heart of dusk, the sky darkening from pink to violet. I wondered how we’d find our way back when this meeting ended. The pinelands would be black as coal by then.

Coming out of the trees, we faced a pair of curving hills. Aaron headed to the taller of the two on our right. This hill reminded me of a whale sticking its head out of the water; unusually round, one side sloped to the left and down. As we reached the base of the hill, he sniffed the air. He walked to a green prickle bush then went in a vertical line through the grass.

A moment later he cried, “Ha!”

“What?” I asked.

Twisting his fingers around a metal bar in the grass—what I had mistaken for somebody’s scrap metal—Aaron pulled up. I jumped back as the bar lifted the grass with it, leaving a square hole in the ground. A hole hiding a huge, metal pipe.

A trap door.

“Ladies first,” Aaron said.

“Uh, what?” I said, peering down. Claw marks marred the inside, some just a scratch, others carved into the metal. It was a slide, modeled after the ones you saw at local swimming pools or in water parks. I’d always hated those slides.

“Come on, Lina, before someone sees us.” Aaron gave the field a quick scan.

“Oh, no.” I backed away. “I don’t do roller coasters, spinning rides, or slides that lead into dark abysses. Do we not have another entrance? Is this seriously the only way to go?”

“Lina,” Aaron groaned, getting impatient. “Yes, for the moment. Home Base is all underground, safe from Keftey eyes. This is the entrance where we’re least likely to get spotted or sniffed out. Will you please trust me and get in the slide? Are you a cat or a mouse?”

“
Excuse
me?”

“You heard me,” he chuckled. “Come on, scaredy cat. It’s not that bad.”

I swallowed, glancing between him and the black hole. The dim light flickered off his eyes, and I glimpsed the warning in them. I scoffed.
If only he weren’t such an annoying, hot, young man.
Sitting at the edge of the pipe, I squeezed my eyes shut, and—I don’t know how I did it—pushed myself down.

My stomach flew back against my spine. I let out a tiny squeak as my hair blew around and I plummeted into the ground. I opened my eyes to find that I couldn’t see, couldn’t see anything, until suddenly there was a light.

The slide spit me out. I rolled across the icy, solid ground, stopping just inches before smacking a wall. Head spinning like a merry-go-round, I flopped onto my back and laid there a moment. The smooth, dark grey ceiling tilted for a bit, gradually sloping into the walls. What was this small room made of? Some type of stone? Cement, maybe?

A swift, sliding sound moved down the pipe. I forced myself to sit up. Aaron slid out feet first and hit the floor, springing up like a deer. He landed easily on his feet before looking around for me, eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh!” He laughed, seeing me on the floor. “Aw, Lina,” he baby-talked. “Did you fall down?”

“Shut up. We’re using a different entrance next time,” I declared, straightening my shirt and using my fingers as a comb. My hair, which I had done such a nice job of straightening, had frizzed.

Aaron helped me to my feet. “Come on.” He guided me towards a flight of rocky stairs. “It should be near time for Raja to send the hunt off.”

“Hunt.” The word hadn’t really stuck until just now. “Wait, do Shifters hunt animals?”

“Only once a month. It’s a clan bonding thing. You know like how sometimes families will go out to dinner once a month just to be together? Well, that’s how the hunt is. Not everybody goes. Those that choose not to hunt attend a feast in the grand hall. Not everybody likes hot, raw meat.”

“
You
don’t go hunting. Do you?” It would break my heart to see him ripping apart an innocent bunny, or catching one of the cute grey diggers that scuttle along the ground like geckos. I couldn’t even watch the nature shows on
Animal Planet.
How could I stand seeing Aaron shred animals in front of me?

“No.” He shook his head. I sighed in relief. “I don’t hunt unless I’m on border patrol, which isn’t very often anymore. The only time I really hunted was during that one month I sort of . . . disappeared.”

“Disappeared?” I cocked my head. “What are you talking about?”

“Eh, we’ll talk about it later.” He rolled his shoulders, acting like he regretted bringing it up. “Look, bottom line is . . . I ran away for a while after Halia died. I did some stupid stuff, but I came around. Okay?”

“Hmm.”
Stupid stuff.
I really didn’t like that term. It was vague, mysterious . . . the same term Dad used when trying to tell Mom about the affair. Men seemed to favor those words when they were trying to make bad secrets look innocent.

“Hey.” Aaron’s fingers brushed my chin, turning my head towards him. “I saw that look on your face. Trust me: it’s okay. I didn’t go murder someone or commit a felony or anything like that. I was just a little lost for a while.”

Okay, no felonies, no break-ins.
My lips managed a smile. “No law-breaking?”

He snorted. “No law-breaking. Well, unless you count trespassing on private property. But I’d shifted, so technically that rule didn’t apply.”

We came to the bottom of the staircase, where things instantly went from cave hideout to royal hallway. Blue marble sheathed this new hall, theater-style runner lights across the floor. Portraits had been mounted on the walls, all of them in golden frames featuring wildcats. No people.

“Wow,” I said as we passed a portrait of a lynx. Ears perked, it lay upon red velvet sheets in front of a grey, faded background. The mountain cat stared at us with intense, brown-gold eyes, its speckled coat well-painted. Someone had skills. Underneath the frame hung a golden plate engraved with the name,
Geradina Ringwald.

“Dedications to Shifters who’ve helped the clan,” Aaron explained, gazing at the tiger beside Geradina. His nametag read,
Erick Vanderfeld.
“Many warriors are up here, those who’ve saved teams in danger at the boundaries, or were bodyguards to an Alpha and gave their lives to protect them.”

We’d made it halfway down the hall when I jerked Aaron to a stop. I stood still, eyes locked onto a portrait of a huge cat with snowy, spotted fur. He sat against a rising sun on a field, fluffy tail curling out behind him. He had such a regal stance, ocean eyes carrying the intensity of a human’s.

A snow leopard with the nametag,
Dane Jamison.

“That’s um . . .” Aaron trailed off. Looking away, he scratched his head. “Well, I don’t think I have to tell you, do I?”

I felt sorry that Aaron was trapped beside me, having to look at someone he didn’t want to think about. But I couldn’t turn away.
I bet he was like you.
He might not have been a cougar, but Dane Jamison couldn’t have been all bad news if he was on this wall. He must’ve been a warrior, a leader. Ripping my eyes from the portrait, we continued forward.

Home Base was a maze of tunnels and hallways. The halls were of the same fancy granite decorated with art pieces, whereas the tunnels were long, rounded, and made of cement. You could go from royal walkway to prehistoric cave in seconds.

When I asked Aaron why it wasn’t all the same he told me the clan long ago had used whatever materials they could get. There were members of the court who worked in landscaping and home design, therefore they got their products cheap.

We passed hanging plaques with arrows pointing this way and that, labeled hospital wing, grand dining hall and main meeting room. “Where does everyone stay when they’re here?” I asked.

“There are rooms, though most of the clan members live in their own homes around town like we do,” Aaron said. He pointed to a door in the hallway we were walking through. “That door will take you down to the girls’ common room. The rooms are sort of like underground dorms, small and cramped. Mostly refugees from out of state live here. There’s a common room and dorms for the boys too.”

“Oh.” I had a disturbing image of my house being burned and graffitied like the Millers’ homes in the woods. The dorms would be where Mom and I would come if that ever happened. Good to know, I guess.

Everything reeked like animals, like fur and fishy breath and the outdoors. Harry often came into the house with that smell, and I hated it. Cat coats seem to pull scents to them like magnets. The halls were deserted, and the further we got the quicker Aaron moved. I figured it was because of my scent; by now I was probably leaving mine among the others. If my smell lingered, the clan might pick it up and know the Alpha had been here.

Aaron pushed through a set of doors at the bottom of a staircase. When the doors opened, the feline aroma hit me like a fist, making my eyes water.

And I heard them.

It was the rumble of noise you heard before entering a party, or before you step into the cafeteria at lunch. Totally normal, common noise . . . but I did not miss what lay behind the human voices: unmistakable growls, hisses, roars, and purrs nearly blanked out the humanness around me.

Wildcats.
I almost gave into my urge to bolt, scream, take off up the steps. They were still here? What about the hunt?

“Come on.” Aaron wiggled his fingers against my side. This was not the time to be tickling me. “Don’t be scared; they aren’t going to see us. Trust me.”

I shivered.
Trust me
. That was easier said than done, but I took his hand.
I do trust you
. I had to believe that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me.

The short hall ended, opening up on a gigantic, underground dome, two or three football fields in length, and made of that strange, grey stone. Aaron’s sneakers hit the edge of a stair lined with bright runner lights. The whole room was lined with these lit stone steps, row after row down to the flat center ground. Standing beside him, I saw the clan for the first time.

I’d never seen so many wildcats in my life. A gathering of young lions napped together, a few bobcats and a lion cub fighting—or playing, I couldn’t tell. A lone ocelot wandered around aimlessly while an assortment of felines sat in a circle of teen girls in bikinis, laughing like they were a typical high school clique. A leopard groomed the hair of a young woman on a lower stair. She kept smiling at him so adoringly, reminding me of Trinity when she looks at Tom. A lynx lounged with two human children and a set of adorable, fuzzy cubs.

“Amazing, isn’t it?” Aaron’s cheek touched mine.

I couldn’t breathe for a second. “
This
is the definition of amazing,” I replied. They moved with a fluidity that would shame runway models, their heads high, backs straight. Few smiled for very long. The aura filling this place, even with the laughter and chatter, was grim.

Aaron took my hand. “Are you okay? You’re shaking a little. Do they frighten you?”

I hesitated then shook my head. To my astonishment, I didn’t feel frightened. Overwhelmed, yes, but not scared. I’d been so sure I would panic, faint, throw-up, do something completely embarrassing. Still, I waited. Maybe the effect just hadn’t set in yet. Maybe I was in shock.

A pair of lovely white tigers and a cream-coated lion—all of whom Aaron told me were members of my selected “court”—came out onto the floor. The clan turned into a stampede of flashing lights as the remaining people shifted. It was beautiful how their shapes changed so quickly and smoothly. For a brief moment, the feline in me whispered:
you belong here
.

As the last of the clan transformed and left the room, the two fair-coated tigers trotted down the tunnel after them. Only the feline mothers and the cream-coated lion remained in the dome. The lion sauntered towards the center of the room, tail curling around his feet as he sat. He seemed to be waiting for something.

Aaron moved, tugging my shirt. “That’s our cue.”

“Whoa, what?” I stumbled, letting him steer me across the room’s highest stair.

The lion tilted his head, golden eyes locking onto us as we descended. He met us at the bottom as Aaron hopped off the last step. “Raja,” he said, nodding his head.