Second Nature (45 page)

"Just coming around when you need help but running away when the going gets tough is not the way life in the pride works." Leigh's voice was a low growl. She was talking just to Griffin, looking just at her. She seemed to have forgotten Jorie's presence.

Jorie's back hit the kitchen counter when she took another step back. She flattened herself against it, trying to make herself invisible. That way, she could gather as much information as possible from Leigh's angry, uncensored words.
Life in the pride? So they are or can turn into lions? But Griffin lives alone — not very typical for a lion.
Again, Jorie got the impression that Griffin was a different kind of shape-shifter.

"Oh, you mean like you run away, going out to run through the forest every time an emotionally explosive situation comes up?" Griffin countered.

"Enough!" Rhonda said calmly, but firmly. "Why do you keep lashing out at each other? It won't take away the pain of the past."

Griffin and Leigh stared at each other for a moment longer; then both lowered their gazes.

Wow. She knows just how to handle them.
Rhonda was clearly the diplomat of the group. Was she some kind of political leader despite her smaller build? Or did the Wrasa who could physically defeat all others earn the right to lead them? Was that why Brian seemed to be the leader of the pride?

"Leigh, this is not the time or the place to confront your sister," Rhonda said. "Can't you see that she's already stretched to the max?"

"Why are you taking her side?" Leigh complained instead of answering. Her green eyes looked at Rhonda as if she were betraying her by defending Griffin.

Rhonda shook her head. "I'm not taking sides. You're both acting stupid, like cubs fighting over their mother's teat — you too, Griffin. You can't just come and go as you please, without any explanation. You're not a one-woman team on a secret mission any longer. If you want our help, you have to share information."

Muscled shoulders moved up and down as Griffin breathed a sigh of resigned aggravation.

God, don't I just know how she feels.
Her parents had constantly lectured Jorie about the same thing — the importance of teamwork, sharing information, giving explanations instead of just going off alone. Jorie had known it wasn't fair to leave her parents behind to deal with her absence or unexplained actions, but her first impulse had always been to decide and act without consulting anyone.

"You want an explanation? Then, next time, just say so instead of throwing a fit," Griffin said to her sister. "I'm not going out for fun. I'm going over to the house to call Ky from a secure line."

Ky? Kylin? That's their other sister,
Jorie realized.
Why does she need to call her so urgently? And why from a secure line?

Griffin stepped past Rhonda. "I'm very sorry about your father," she said, then slipped out the door.

*  *  *

Rhonda's father died, and I didn't know. I really have been out of touch.
Griffin strode across the yard, glad to escape into the falling darkness of the cool Michigan night. She had always thought she didn't care about anything that went on in her fathers' pride, but now she found it wasn't true. Guilt clawed at her.
I should have been there for the cremation and to support Rhonda.

She wanted to blame Leigh and her fathers for not telling her, but she realized she hadn't given them any indication that she might be interested in attending the cremation ceremony, in caring for her sick father, or in anything else that had to do with the pride.

Dad could have died, and I wouldn't even have known.
In the past, heart problems had been almost unheard of among Wrasa. Now, with their numbers dwindling and their natural habitats being destroyed, formerly unknown illnesses and diseases befell them. Brian looked well, so maybe he was healed by now, but it had been a reminder that he wouldn't live forever.
That's why he's grooming Leigh to take over as a natak.

Deep in thought, Griffin picked up a familiar scent only when it was already too late to hide. She stopped in her tracks and wrinkled her nose as the scent of open hostility tickled her senses. "Tarquin," she greeted, managing to sound halfway civil.

He didn't bother to return her greeting. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"This is my fathers' pride. I have a right to be here," Griffin said. A confrontation was the last thing she needed right now, but she wouldn't back down either.

"You gave up that right fifteen years ago — and your fathers weren't on your side." Tarquin smirked at her.

He was telling the truth, and that was what really hurt.

"And you certainly have no right to be in Rhonda's house," Tarquin continued, now even more aggressive.

Was it just the usual catlike possessiveness, or did he have any right to consider Rhonda his? Griffin couldn't tell. Relationships within the pride had always confused her.

"It's bad enough that your sister is always hanging around her." Tarquin snarled.

His scent clearly telegraphed his dislike. He had no love lost for Leigh either even though she was a full-blooded Kasari. Maybe it was just Tarquin's jealousy, but Griffin was beginning to realize that Leigh had a hard time with some of the pride members. They never forgot that she was Griffin's sister, and they never let her forget it either. Being related to an antapi had probably gotten Leigh teased as a child and hindered her career as an adult.

Griffin opened her mouth for a sharp answer when she saw Tarquin's nostrils flare.
Shit! I carried Jorie around this morning. Her scent has to be all over me. If he realizes I smell of human, the whole pride will know that Jorie is here in less than an hour.
Without the planned answer, she pushed past Tarquin.

"Hey! Wait a minute." Tarquin grabbed her shoulder to stop her.

Fire flared over Griffin's skin as the urge to shift rose. She bared her teeth and whirled around.

Tarquin had even less control over his actions. He growled, the pain of the threatening change making him even more aggressive.

"Calm down," Griffin ordered, but his only answer was to throw a punch at her.

His fist smashed against Griffin's face. The coppery taste of blood exploded in her mouth. Her bones and joints ached more than her blooded lip. She fought against the growing need to shift, but it was a losing battle if Tarquin didn't stop his attack.

Tarquin jumped forward for a second punch. Saffron-colored hair spread over his knuckles as he raised his fist.

"Stop!" a commanding voice boomed.

Griffin looked up, expecting to see Brian. Instead, Gus had taken an authoritative stance right next to them. She tensed her muscles, ready to defend Gus should Tarquin be dumb enough to attack him too.

But Gus didn't need her help. "Step back!" The force of his voice and the natural authority in his green eyes made Tarquin take a step back.

Never had the laid-back Gus taken charge like that. He had always preferred to stay back and let his older brother handle things. But apparently, the fact that he preferred not to force others to submit to him didn't mean he couldn't do it if he wanted.

Tarquin stopped his attack. He trembled with the effort to stop the shifting that had already begun. His chest heaved.

"What's going on?" Gus asked. He looked at Griffin for an answer, knowing Tarquin wasn't able to give a reasonable explanation just yet.

"Nothing," Griffin said. It was her fight, not Gus's. She had handled all her problems alone since she had been a child, and she didn't want to risk him taking Tarquin's side. Brian had sided with Tarquin fifteen years ago and Gus hadn't said anything, so she had no reason to believe Gus would react differently now.

"Oh, so 'nothing' made your lip bleed and scraped his knuckles?" Gus asked sarcastically. "I want an answer — and I want it now!" He didn't sound like the gentle man Griffin had met as a teenager. For the first time, he sounded like a natak. Not answering his question was not an option.

"Apparently, Tarquin thinks I have no right to be here," Griffin answered. She touched her lip and winced. It was already beginning to swell.

Gus turned toward Tarquin. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Tarquin lifted his head and met Gus's gaze. Griffin could see that he wanted to look away and avoid a direct confrontation with his natak, but Gus's gaze held him captive.

"Griffin," he said and gripped her arm to drag her into Tarquin's line of sight, now addressing her too, "doesn't live here, and she's not really a member of this pride."

Tarquin nodded with satisfaction.

Gus's words slashed through Griffin like a knife. It wasn't a surprise, but having Gus take Tarquin's side hurt nonetheless.
He's stabbing me in the back too, like Brian did fifteen years ago. Tarquin wins again.
Even after all these years, that betrayal was still a festering, painful wound.

"But," Gus continued, "she's my daughter, and as such, she's not only tolerated but highly welcome here. If you can't act at least civilly and extend her the hospitality that the Kasari are known for, it's you who has no right to be here. You don't have to love Griffin or even like her, but you have to find a way to get along. That's what being a Kasari and a part of the pride is all about. Do you understand that, Tarquin?"

Griffin sucked in a sharp breath, then another when it caused her lip to start throbbing. Not even Brian, who had fathered her, had ever supported her so openly.
Did Gus always think like that, and I just missed it all this time?
Griffin wondered.
Or did his attitude toward me change over the years?

"Do you understand?" Gus asked again when Tarquin stubbornly remained silent.

"Yes." Tarquin ground out the word, making it sound as if it had ten syllables.

When Gus turned toward Griffin, his green eyes were hard and commanding, yet full of affection at the same time. "And you? Do you understand too?"

For the first time, Griffin did.
He sees me as his daughter, and he wants me here — as long as I make an honest effort to get along with the rest of the pride.
She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. She told herself it was just her swollen lip that rendered her speechless, but she knew it wasn't.

"All right, then." Gus stepped back, releasing them both from the force of his gaze that had held them in place.

Griffin realized that Gus wasn't alone.

A few steps away, Martha Cahill was waiting. She graced Gus with a warm smile as he returned to her side.

Gus and Rhonda's mother out for an evening stroll together?
Griffin wondered and watched them walk away.
Is he courting her? If he is, that makes Leigh and Rhonda stepsisters... and it makes Rhonda my stepsister too.
Once again, Griffin was reminded of why she had always thought pride relationships too complex and convoluted.

"This isn't over, antapi!" Tarquin said just low enough so Gus wouldn't hear. When Griffin didn't answer, he stormed away.

*  *  *

"What happened?" were the first words out of Brian's mouth when he opened the door.

Griffin didn't even try to hide the leftover bitterness from the past. "Just a welcome home from one of your people."

"Who?" Brian's voice was still calm, but his eyes were gleaming with anger.

"What are you gonna do if I tell you?" Griffin asked. "You didn't teach him some manners fifteen years ago, and you certainly won't do it now." Back then, Brian had blamed her for the escalation of violence, completely ignoring that she had hit Tarquin because he had insulted Ky. Starting a fistfight with a pride mate was against pride law, and Brian hadn't looked beyond that.

A quick gesture stopped Brian's protest. "Don't worry. Gus already took care of it."
He finally did what you should have done fifteen years ago.

"Gus?" Brian asked, clearly surprised.

"He stepped in to help me. His first thought was about me, not about what helping me would do to his career or his standing in the pride." Griffin openly met her father's gaze, even knowing it wasn't considered polite. "I guess he knows what it's like to be considered an outsider with no one to take your side and to be hated for something that was out of your control."

"What do you want?" Brian snarled. "Do you want me to say I'm sorry for fathering you and Kylin?"

Griffin studied him. "Are you?"

The question had stood between them for so many years, unasked, but always in the back of Griffin's mind.

"It was stupid. I knew your mother was the only daughter of the last maharsi. I knew she was destined to be with a Puwar, not with me. Everyone warned me to stay away, but she looked at me with those damned amber eyes..." Brian trailed off and looked away.

"So you are sorry." While Griffin had known it all along, it still wasn't a pleasant thing to hear that your own father regretted your very existence. "That's what I thought."

"I haven't said yes, have I?" Brian protested.

Saying it wasn't necessary. Sometimes, actions spoke louder than words. "You never said that you don't regret it either. Not even once did you tell Tarquin or one of the other jerks to treat Ky or me with more respect. You let Tarquin torment Ky, and you didn't support me when I stopped him — what kind of message does that send? Without saying a word, you told everyone that you're ashamed of your daughters and that you agree with their prejudice against us."

Brian's cheeks flushed. A vein pulsed in his neck. He looked as if he was about to explode. His answer was surprisingly soft, though. "That's not what I intended. It never was. But I didn't know how to handle the situation. Things weren't easy for me. Yes, I'm sorry about a lot of things. I'm sorry that I ruined your mother's and Gus's careers. I'm sorry that I was the reason why our pride had to move to Michigan, where the only two seasons are 'winter is here' and 'winter is near.'" He shook himself in catlike fashion at the thought of ice and snow. "I'm sorry I robbed our kind of the insight and leadership a future generation of maharsi could have provided, but I'm not sorry to be your father — even though you're a pain in the ass," Brian grumbled. "Now get over here and let me treat that lip. You look like a human with a bad Botox job."