Her sister's hands clenched and unclenched, but at least the blond hair that had begun to sprout on her forearms receded. "Are you crazy?" Leigh hissed at her friend.
"No, but apparently, you are!" Rhonda hit her in the chest with the back of her hand.
Uh-oh. Not a good idea.
Leigh had no Saru training, so she didn't have Griffin's control over her emotions and the instinct to shift. Hitting Leigh while she was angry and already close to shifting, even though Rhonda meant no real harm, could be suicide. Griffin prepared to step in.
But Leigh didn't shift or attack. She just stood staring down at Rhonda. "Ouch," she mumbled, sounding like a pouting child.
Most of the tension fled from Griffin's body. She chuckled — and stopped abruptly when Rhonda's small hand hit her in the upper chest too. Now it was Griffin's turn to stare at her.
Her predatory instincts wanted to lunge at Rhonda, wanted to take her down a peg for invading her personal territory, but the bigger part of her couldn't help admiring Rhonda's courage. The small librarian was no match for Leigh, and she certainly stood no chance against Griffin, but here she was, disciplining both of them like unruly children.
"If your mother could see you, she would be ashamed, Leigh Eldridge," Rhonda said.
Griffin watched in surprise as Leigh hung her head. Shame gathered around her like rain clouds. Leigh's mother had been killed by a human hunter, who had mistaken her for a big cat that had escaped from a nearby zoo. Leigh had been just five, much too young to understand or avenge her mother's death. Taking revenge was strictly forbidden anyway. If a human killed a Wrasa in his animal form, it was to be considered an unfortunate accident. All anyone could do was to retrieve the body at all costs so that no taxidermist could find out that the dead animal wasn't really an animal. It didn't happen very often. Wrasa had learned to be careful, but Griffin knew more than one person who had lost a family member to human hunters. Her tas, Cedric Jennings, had lost his older brother to a poacher's snare.
Leigh hated humans, who could kill without being punished for it. Griffin suspected that this was another reason why Leigh had been so willing to help her investigate a human.
"And you!" Rhonda rounded on Griffin. "I don't know your mother, but no doubt she wouldn't be very proud of you right now either. Forget what I said about you two being so very different. You are both the same stubborn idiots!" Without waiting for a reply, she turned and stormed away.
The two sisters stood in silence, staring at the retreating woman.
"That little cat has very sharp claws," Griffin finally said. "Is she always this... intense?" The Rhonda Cahill she remembered had been a rather laid-back cat, content to lie in the sun with a book. For a Kasari, her prey drive was very low.
Leigh scratched the back of her neck, this time a gesture of embarrassment and not an itch caused by the rising mutaline levels. "Um... we were fighting earlier," she siad.
"About me?" Griffin asked. Had Rhonda been defending her right to be here?
"Don't flatter yourself," Leigh said with unexpected harshness. "We were fighting about that human. Ronnie doesn't want the writer to end up dead."
"And you wouldn't mind that at all," Griffin finished what Leigh hadn't said.
A sand-colored eyebrow lifted in silent challenge. "Would you?"
The thought of being forced to kill Jorie — to kill anyone — was not a pleasant one. Griffin would do everything she could to avoid it. "At this point, I don't think killing Ms. Price is necessary to ensure the survival of our people. There's no proof —"
"Killing that human is necessary," Leigh interrupted, jerking her hand as she would twitch her tail in animal form.
Griffin snorted. "Oh, now you're suddenly a maharsi, huh? And here I thought the last dream seer had died years ago, so how can you know Jorie Price is going to be a threat?" Even after a week of investigations, Griffin couldn't tell if Jorie was a real threat. It was a decision that needed to be made with a level head, not with anger and hate.
"If you had inherited your grandfather's gift, you would know I'm right. The writer and her book are dangerous," Leigh said.
"But thanks to our fathers, I'm not fully Puwar and didn't inherit the gift, so I'll decide if she's a danger only after a thorough investigation." Griffin's gaze drilled into Leigh's darkening fern-green eyes. "You can either help or get out of the way."
Without another word, Leigh strode away, heading in the direction that Rhonda had disappeared.
CHAPTER 11
"
W
HAT?" QUINN CHUCKLED when her human partner hesitated with their lips just inches apart. "You're not afraid I'll turn into a frog, are you?" She winked and stroked the short hair on Sid's neck with one finger, very aware that she had to be gentle and careful. "Don't worry; it takes more than just one tiny kiss to accomplish that."
The ringing of her cell phone threw Jorie out of her fictional world.
Jorie groaned. "Not now."
For once, she felt as if she was going somewhere with this book and could write without fighting for every word. She had thought the first-kiss scene would be hard to write, but compared to the scenes that focused on the shape-shifter culture, describing the interactions between her two main characters came easily to her.
"Mom, I'm writing," she whined instead of greeting her mother with a proper "hello."
Her mother, who had heard the same thing for years, didn't miss a step. "You're always writing, Jorie. Don't you ever go out, meet friends... date?"
God, not you too.
It had been embarrassing enough when she'd had to admit to Griffin that she hardly knew anyone in town. Jorie said nothing, hoping her mother would run out of steam.
"Jorie, I worry about you," Helen said quietly. "I don't like it that you're hiding yourself away, playing the hermit in the wilderness."
"I do go out," Jorie defended herself. She didn't want her mother to worry.
"Really?" Her mother's voice reflected careful hope and skeptical delight.
Jorie hesitated only for a second. "Yes, really." It wasn't a total lie, she told herself. She had gone out to have coffee and breakfast with Griffin three different times.
"So you're finally making friends?" her mother asked.
As long as Jorie could remember, her mother had always worried because Jorie had never made friends easily. While Jorie was content to be on her own, her mother wasn't happy with the way Jorie's life was going. She wanted Jorie closer to home, with a steady, "respectable" job, a husband, kids, a horde of friends, and preferably pets that didn't set off her allergies when she came to visit. Not that she'd ever come right out and said it, but Jorie felt the unspoken pressure every time they talked. "Yes, Mom," she said in an attempt to calm her mother. "I am."
"Oh, how wonderful!" Helen exclaimed. "You'll have to introduce us when I come to visit this weekend."
"What?" The cell phone almost fell from Jorie's grip. "D-did you just say...?"
"I'm coming to Michigan to visit you," her mother said happily. "Then you can introduce me to all your friends. Won't that be wonderful?"
"Wonderful," Jorie said through gritted teeth.
Shit. I'm trapped. Totally trapped.
With her attempts to calm her worried mother, she had maneuvered herself into a corner. For a moment, she thought about telling her mother she couldn't come because she was writing on a deadline, but they both knew it was just a self-imposed deadline. If she mentioned having to finish her novel before her savings were gone, her mother would offer her money.
No.
Jorie didn't want that.
Her thoughts were racing while she wrote down the flight information Helen gave her. Her mother was expecting to meet her new friends, and she hadn't exchanged more than two words in a row with anyone in town.
Anyone but Griffin.
That thought sparked an idea in Jorie's creative mind. "Mom, I have to get back to my writing. We'll talk more when you're here."
"I'm really looking forward to it," Helen said.
A sigh rose up Jorie's chest, but she quickly suppressed it. It wasn't that she didn't love her mother or didn't want to see her. What she resented was the pressure the motherly visit put on her. Her mother had a lot of expectations, and Jorie felt as if she couldn't fulfill any of them. Her succession of semi-regular jobs, her lack of relationships and even friendships, her whole life had been just a string of disappointments for her mother.
Do I take this chance and show her that for once, I have one of the things she wants for me?
Jorie said good-bye, ended the call, and stared at her cell phone for endless minutes.
* * *
"Ah! The renegade sister reports in." Griffin adjusted her reading glasses and grinned down at the laptop screen that showed her a new e-mail. So Leigh had decided to help her with her mission despite their fight. She had sent her the report on Dr. Saxton.
One click opened the e-mail. There was no friendly greeting, no apology, just two words: report attached.
Great. She's still pouting. I wonder if she and Ronnie... Rhonda have kissed and made up by now.
The thought made her stop and sit up in bed.
Kissed and made up,
she repeated to herself. She had wasted no thought on the relationship between Leigh and her childhood friend. For the last ten years, she had focused on the facts of her missions, not on relationships, hers or that of others. But now that she thought about it...
Rhonda has a key to the house; Leigh sleeps over at Rhonda's, and Leigh is the only one allowed to still call her Ronnie. And they're certainly fighting like an old, married couple.
Griffin grimaced.
Great. My baby sister and the first woman I ever had a crush on.
Baring her teeth, she growled at herself.
Come on. Don't act like a jealous ex-lover. Even if they are lovers, what do you care? There was never anything between Rhonda and you — and it was by your own choice.
The past was past. She wasn't interested in Rhonda any longer, and she couldn't care less about her sister's private life. It was inconclusive evidence anyway. Kasari who had grown up together were as close as sisters — certainly closer than Griffin had ever been to either of her sisters. After her mother's death, Leigh had practically been adopted by Rhonda's parents too. It stood to reason that they were close.
The question is just how close.
Her curious mind just couldn't let it go.
For a moment, Griffin thought about hitting reply and asking Leigh, but then she decided against it. If Leigh and Rhonda were lovers, Leigh wouldn't tell her. She had told Leigh that the details of the investigation were none of her business, and in retaliation, Leigh would answer her question the same way. If they weren't lovers, Leigh wouldn't tell her either, just to make sure Griffin stayed away from her best friend. Leigh didn't want her anywhere near the pride, because reminding people she had a hybrid half sister could damage her chances to become natak.
But if they are lovers, it'll certainly put an interesting spin on the next project I'm giving Leigh. I bet this will go over well.
With a sarcastic grin, Griffin sent off an e-mail to Leigh, telling her to do a thorough background check on Martha and Rhonda Cahill and their connections to Jorie. Not that she expected anything to come of it. Still, if she wasn't thorough in her investigation, her fellow saru might accuse her of playing favorites and not being objective enough when it came to her family. And it was also a nice opportunity to test her sister. Leigh would most likely refuse, and Griffin would have another Saru techie check out the Cahills, but she couldn't resist provoking her sister a little.
Griffin opened the attachment and read the report on Dr. Saxton. It was a short report. Jake Saxton was exactly what he appeared to be — a small-town doctor with a good heart, a boring private life, a crush on Jorie, and no connections to the Wrasa. According to the information from his office computer, he wasn't even planning on billing them for taking care of Jorie's arm or checking Griffin's head.
He wants it to be a favor he did for Jorie.
Her cell phone rang.
A glance at the display showed an unknown caller.
Griffin's eyebrows rose.
Strange.
Apart from her commanding officer, the council, and Ky, very few people had her cell phone number. Curiosity made her lift the phone to her ear. "Yes?"
"Griffin?"
She recognized the voice immediately even though it was higher-pitched than the smooth timbre she was used to.
Jorie.
Never in a million years had she thought that Jorie would make use of the card with her cell phone number she had given her at their first meeting. "Hi, Jorie," she answered, trying hard not to sound surprised and make Jorie even more self-conscious about calling her than she already sounded.
"Hi. I hope I didn't wake you?" Jorie asked.
"No, don't worry. I'm a regular night owl, so I'll be up for a while." Griffin hesitated. "So, how are you? Everything okay? How is your arm?"
"It's healing." Her sensitive ears heard Jorie take a deep breath. "I was wondering if you... had any plans for the weekend?"
Jorie sounded like a nervous high school boy trying to ask a girl to the prom — not that Griffin had any firsthand experience with boys or proms. She had avoided all social functions when she was in school and later in college.
Is she asking me to do something with her? Is she trying to follow my advice about taking a break and getting out more?
Griffin wondered. "No plans yet," she answered. "I'm on vacation with no fixed schedule, but suggestions are always welcome. Did you have something in mind?" She'd have to worm it out of the hesitant Jorie.
"I was wondering if you'd like to come over to my place for a while," Jorie said.
"Sure. I'd love that."
Jorie is inviting me into her house. She's starting to trust me.
It should have felt like a triumph, but the only emotion swirling through Griffin was guilt. She didn't deserve that kind of trust. "When do you want me over?"