Off Leash (Freelance Familiars Book 1) (23 page)

“The princess wants you, Thomas. I can’t, I won’t defy her. I love her too much.” She curled into a fetal position as if under great strain.

“Love her? What about me?” When she didn’t respond, I turned away from her, growling with my own frustration. My eyes fell on anything else. While I stared at the bare wooden walls, my headache reemerged. Were all werewolves scary loyal to their gods? Angelina had never struck me as a religious type. Seeing nothing but solid wood, my gaze shifted back to the latch mechanism as I pondered the sheer wrongness. If I could figure out some way to reach through the bars with a stick or something, I might be able to open the cage. Angelica couldn’t let me out, but maybe she was too conflicted to stop me if I got myself out. However, the cage’s supply of long sticks was fresh out. In fact there was nothing in the cage at all, which invalidated the fleeting hypothesis that I was trapped in an inventory-based video game. I wondered if a magus could install bottomless pockets in my fur coat.

I imagined this princess as a horrible amalgamation of teeth and claws. She had to be something pretty scary to get these characters to fear her punishments. I had a feeling that their god was a bit more hands-on than the one I learned about in Sunday school as a child. Either way this was exactly what Oric and Sidney had warned me about with much waggling of their nonexistent brows.

I looked at the gate, the rusty iron frame bolted to the wooden planks surrounding it. It all looked fairly solid, but I had to wonder how much force it had been built to sustain. After all, trained lions really weren’t the brightest of bulbs, right? That did lead to the thought of how many circus animals had been TAU material, but I shook the question off. Worry about TAU after I assured I wouldn’t be mincemeat.

I lay down to study the grate. Rust covered every surface of the metal, but the damage looked more decorative than structural. Flehmming in frustration, I drank in the metallic scent and found something far more promising. A dark, wet scent, like that of a swamp in the afternoon sun, the scent of decaying wood. I followed the scent, flehmming repeatedly, to the bottom edge of the wall. In the corner, closest to the bars but where sunlight would have a very difficult time reaching, the distinct scent of decay became stronger. My claws sunk into the softened wood easily and pulled out small bundles of splinters. The scent became hope. I turned and gave the wall a two-pawed donkey kick. The sound of my head hitting the opposite side of the cage car sounded far louder than the impact of my feet.

“Thomas! What the hell?” I heard Angelina say. Her face popped up to stare inside my cage.

I didn’t respond, too busy figuring out how to brace myself to prevent a repeat flight. Clearly the wood had not rotted all the way through and would need more convincing to open. My second kick produced a solid
whump
! That made the entire cage shudder.

“Stop it! You’re going to hurt yourself.”

I snarled at her and readied for another kick, my pulse already pounding in my ears. My back paws stung from the force of the last impact, and an almost palpable feeling of reluctance pushed up against me. A tremor of panic fluttered through me, similar to when I first leapt on top of a house to escape the cops. But I did not yield to the sensation or release myself to the whims of instinct. It did not understand what I was doing, why I was inflicting pain on us. I forced them back as I peered over my shoulder at the targeted section of the wall. The wood above it above it bore twin smudges. I had to go a little lower.

Wham!
The entire cage shuddered around me, but the wall held as pain shot through my legs. I checked the wall; the impact marks were still a smidge too high.

“Thomas!
Think!
You’re in the middle of my pack’s territory. Even if you get out, you won’t get far! Pa will break your legs!”

“He doesn’t have to know.” I set up for another kick, ignoring the pain in my pads.

Crack!
Now that was a sound that was music to my ears. The rotten board exploded from its moorings.

The wolf sputtered as a grin spread across my muzzle. “I prefer boxes that are open.” I turned to inspect my handiwork. My hind paws had punched out a section of board about a foot across. Too narrow to squeeze through, but judging from the holes in the board below it, pulling it out wouldn’t be hard.

Angelica sprang up into view through the hole as I put my paw into the gap. “Stay the hell away from that!” she screamed at me, spittle spraying from her muzzle, eyes blazing with that unhealthy blue light. Her sheer ferocity drove me back into the cage.

I snarled back, “Listen to me, Angelica! Or Noise. Something is wrong with your head! I can see it! You need to let me go. I’ll get you help.”

“
Lies!
I’m fine! You’ll be fine too once you see the glory!” That light in her eyes didn’t die away completely; a blue sheen stayed in the deep black of her eyes. Unyielding, uncomprehending and utterly beyond reason. The entire reason I had been fighting so hard to stay in Grantsville now planned to sell me into slavery, thanks to some magus’s spell in her head.

No, just no.

I screamed with pure frustration, turned and kicked out with all my rage. The wet wood shattered under my paws, and I found Noise staring through a nearly cougar-sized hole three boards high, the glow gone. I hesitated an instant too long and only leapt after she dived out of view. A metal wall slammed into my nose just as I passed into freedom and forced me back with a yowl of pain. Angelica had pressed a large metal garbage can lid over the hole. I raged against it, kicking and clawing. “Let me out!” My words bled into an animal screech. Kick.
Clang!
I rolled onto my back, beat my paws against her shield and hollered, “Let me out!”
Clang!
“You hear me! Angelica! Snap out of it!” I battered her shield like Animal from the Muppets attacks his cymbals.
Clang, clang, clang!
“I won’t let you do this to me!
Let me out!
” I gave the lid a last kick and then collapsed to the floor, my chest heaving, and my head feeling on the edge of an explosion. So much for the power of righteous anger.

“Noise!” A deep voice cut through my head. I opened my eyes to see the very pregnant Tallow glaring down from a nearby hill. “What the hell is this ruckus?”

“He went crazy and broke the cage!”

“Well, fix it then!” She knuckle-walked towards us with more ease than I would have liked. My mind ran through multiple scenarios of escape. All involved getting up at that moment, but I barely had the energy to watch Tallow’s approach.

A scent in the air caught my nose—smoke, with the faintest trace of cinnamon. I breathed it in like a fresh breeze. The big wolf mother paused and lifted her nose to the air, nostrils flaring. Her eyes flicked to the right. I wondered if there was a plume of smoke blooming over the tree line. Perhaps that had been Eagle and Tallow’s wooden bungalow? It was a lot to hope for. I couldn’t see any horizon from the front of my cage, just the hill Tallow had walked down and tree after tree to the right of it.

Tallow’s yellow eyes stared at me, looking through me. Calculating, perhaps. “Noise!” she barked. “Call the princess’s servant. Tell him that we need her here.”

Noise whimpered. “What? But only Pa is allowed to . . .”

She took the lid from Angelica. “Go find some reception! I’ll take this.” Tallow growled, and Angelica scampered up the hill. A few moments after she left, the lid of the trashcan lifted away from the hole I had made. Tallow peered into my boxy prison. “Don’t hesitate. We did.” I blinked at her, wondering what the hell she meant at that when she tossed a length of silver chain at me. I stared at it, shocked as she slammed the lid back over the hole, and let loose a long, almost mournful howl.

The chain animated as soon as I prodded it with a tentative paw, snaking up my foreleg and settling in around my neck. A tendril of it settled onto that gaping hole in my thoughts, and the lingering pain of the break relaxed. I had not realized how much it still hurt until it disappeared, a weight lifting from my mind. Yet the connection through the chain to O’Meara remained dark. Had her end of the chain also been removed? Or had she just taken it off? Drat. So much for summoning up the fire starter cavalry.

Distant howls echoed back from the forest, long sounds that seemed to end with a questioning note. Tallow answered with a fierce, dominant bellow that seemed to shake the walls of my cage. I didn’t hear any howls answer her, so it had to translate to something either fierce or the equivalent to a dinner bell.

I considered telling Tallow that the chain wasn’t going to be much help in whatever was coming, but she wasn’t being very forthcoming with what she expected me to do. Angelica came back looking downcast. She confirmed that their “princess” was on her way and wasn’t happy about being summoned. They secured the garbage lid over the hole via a few nails that Tallow pushed through the metal lid and into the wood as if they were thumbtacks. I resolved never to allow a werewolf to put their hands on me again.

There was nothing to do but wait for something to happen. I sat and licked at my aching hind feet. They hurt, and most of my claws were bent or shattered from the impact, but beyond that my paws were intact, the bones unbroken.

As I waited I peered at the skulls of my captors, trying to see more of that blue light, but unlike the man at the station, no spell shined through their heads. As the day started to fade, my stomach ached.

Slowly the werewolves crept into the clearing. All were panting slightly and shooting cross looks at Tallow, who had settled against my cage, resting her hands on her belly protectively. There was an unspoken tension in the air. Pa bared his teeth at her, but she just patted her belly and Eagle stepped between her and the alpha, staring his father down. Pa turned away with a dismissive grunt.

Angelica had retreated from my cage, putting a stout tree between her and it. She flinched whenever another of her pack glanced at her. The scent of misery radiated from her like an open bottle of bleach. Her mother, the only wolf I yet had a name for, made to go to her child, a worried expression on her muzzle, but a shake of Tallow’s head warded her off too.

A few minutes later, everyone's ears perked up when the sound of an engine drifted into the clearing. All the werewolves stood up, except for Tallow, who glanced at the others with narrowed eyes. Only when headlights were visible through the foliage did she reluctantly stand up at Eagle’s urging.

My lips peeled back from my teeth as an ancient Cadillac bounced its way up the rocky road. As it came to a stop, warm blue radiated from the vehicle like a fine mist, pulsing around the werewolves. They all stood straighter. I recognized the color and my lips pulled back to sneer. A man wearing round spectacles and a t-shirt sporting a logo for the animal welfare society stepped out of the driver-side door. He scanned the assembled werewolves, as if counting them. "This is highly irregular! The princess is disappointed that you have forced an alteration to her royal schedule." All the wolves' muzzles dipped lower. "She wishes to remind you that you exist on her land and at her sufferance." They all shrank at the man's words; the alpha's jaw was actually trembling. Tallow covered her stomach protectively. "However, the Lady is merciful, provided you indeed have accomplished your task."

"We have!" Pa exclaimed and jabbed a finger in my direction. "The cat sits in that cage!" His voice nearly cracked with desperation.

The man looked in my direction. I hissed.

Pa turned to me, his eyes blazing. "You will show respect," he barked at me as he took a step in my direction.

The human held up a hand. "Hold, Walter—the princess will deal with him."

Pa grunted and returned to his place in the front of the pack, quickly sinking to his knees as the human circled around to the back door of the Cadillac. As he opened it the clearing was absolutely flooded with the blue light. The wolves bowed and pressed their muzzles into the dirt as a cat, white as snow, hopped onto the ground. I recognized Cyndi instantly. Her unearthly beauty radiated blue light like a saintly halo.

Thoughts stirred around the edges of my mind, promising me that this was nothing less than an undefeatable goddess. That conjured an image of Oric wiping the floor with her not twenty-four hours ago.
Undefeatable, my ass.
I growled at the voices.

She surveyed the wolves. "My noble hunters, let me see what you have brought me here to see." I squinted at her, and I could see shapes moving within her halo, thin weaves of something flowing between her and each wolf, each thread knotting around their heads and through their ears and eyes. The human had it far worse, however. He was nearly encased in the strands.

"I can see you well enough from here, Cyndi," I hissed.

She turned her head to look at me for the first time. "Oh, I see you did get the right kitten. Just as grumpy and confused as ever, I see, Thomas."

"See, Thomas? Do you see that it will be all right now?" I heard Noise whisper.

I couldn't afford to think about Noise right now. I could feel Cyndi pouring her magic over me, cooling my anger. "I think I have you pretty well figured out, Cyndi."

"Oh, do you now? I'm just trying to make sure you go to a family that is appropriate for your talents. And save your miserable life," she huffed prettily and cast a glance at the human, who produced a red velvet pillow from the car and offered it to Cyndi, who carefully climbed upon it.