The Catalyst (4 page)

Fiona shot him a glare. What he said was true, but it
still pissed her off that he was so smug about it. There were
legitimate things to fear out there, especially with her gift.
Inside was safer. The panther could think she was crazy all he
wanted, but he didn’t have to live her life or avoid the dangers
that she did. And since he could defend himself without spell books
and fifteen minutes of prep time, he had no right to judge her.

“So, now that you’re here, will you help me?” he
asked.

Despite his semi-evil behavior, his warm brown eyes
sort of made her brain go all fuzzy. He could ask her for almost
anything, and it would be hard to say no—especially given that she
was already here, and it was easier just to stay at this point.

“Okay.”

He smiled and patted her arm. “Okay. I’ll be back in
a bit. Is there anything you need from town?”

Fiona shook her head, not being able to think of
anything at the moment. She watched him slip through the opening in
the cave and out into the big bad outside.

She followed his path as he disappeared from view.
He’d obviously done work on the stone, as the opening wasn’t a
natural one. From the main den, there was a narrow hallway that
opened to the outside. The opening was covered by some large,
natural plant life that grew in the hard earth next to it. Climbing
down looked treacherous, but it was no more than a couple of
stories to the ground. She imagined someone walking by would never
guess there was a cave in the rock. Well, except for the fireplace,
but Fiona guessed the chimney had been made to blend as well.

She watched Z maneuver himself down to the ground and
shuddered to think how he’d gotten her up there while she was
unconscious. Perhaps he’d had help from the doctor. Once he reached
the ground, he pushed back a large stone to reveal another hewn-out
piece of rock large enough to house his motorcycle. He replaced the
stone and pushed the bike through the trees.

The pup’s cold, wet nose pressed
under her elbow. He looked in the direction Z had gone, his tail
flapping fifty times a second.

“Oh, no you don’t. You get out the door, and I can’t
chase you.” Saying it out loud sounded and felt ridiculous, and
once again she was reminded of what a silly and debilitating phobia
she had. Would she leave the pup to get hurt or be taken because
she couldn’t face going out into the forest? She hoped she never
had to find out.

***

Once Z cleared the trees, he put on speed. He wanted
to get Fiona out of his mind, and there was nothing like the wind
in his hair from a fast ride to clear his head. If he were being
really honest, and he’d need to get pretty drunk to get that
honest, he’d admit that kidnapping her was twenty-five percent
about needing help with the pup. The other seventy-five percent was
his raging hormones and the desperation to mount something.

But why had he brought her to his home, knowing she
might be there for awhile? He was not a domesticated breed.
Panthers didn’t settle down. They liked their privacy, their
tucked-away caves. They weren’t a breed that mated for life or
cared for young. The females of his kind often raised young alone
without the assistance of a male.

Their jaded nature made it easier to walk away after
a quick coupling. But Fiona, she was different. She was dangerous.
She was a true innocent, and though Z told himself he wasn’t going
to sleep with her, he feared if he did, he wouldn’t be able to get
rid of her after the fact. He might not be able to get rid of her
anyway, given her peculiar phobia. And a virgin? Out of the
question. He wasn’t gallant enough to keep her, and he wasn’t brute
enough to use her innocence and throw her away. Or at least he
didn’t want to think he was.

When he reached town, he parked his bike next to the
Java Junkie and went inside to feed his caffeine addiction. The
hardware store would be open for another hour still, and the longer
he could stay away from the tantalizing scent and sweet presence of
the witch in his cave, the better.

His darker side kicked to the surface, tempting him
to stay out all night just to get rid of any charming notions she
might have in her head about him. He’d seen the way the witch
looked at him. If he started their association off by behaving like
a jackass, he might have some success in pushing her away before he
did something stupid. Because kidnapping her hadn’t been enough to
get the glazed admiration out of her eyes. He sighed and went into
the coffee shop.

“Hey doll, double shot of espresso,” he said when he
reached the counter. He shoved a three-dimensional paper
jack-o-lantern out of the way and grabbed a handful of candy corn
out of the dish.

The busty blonde smiled at him and winked. “Hey,
Z.”

Her name was Cherry, but Z was almost certain that
wasn’t her real name. He imagined with that name and those tits
that her job at the Java Junkie making fancy coffee beverages was a
brief hiatus from a more lucrative position at a strip joint in
Atlanta.

He knew she had a thing for him, and he’d been
tempted more than once. But she was human, and explaining why he
lived in a cave like a mountain man wasn’t on his agenda for the
evening. Not that he could take a woman to the cave right now with
Fiona there. Either way, it would only make his visits to the
coffee shop awkward after the inevitable end of their fling. And he
needed his double espresso. In small towns, you couldn’t afford to
piss off the keepers of the coffee beans.

He nodded, acknowledging the flirtation, but not
inviting more. He was perplexed by how lack of attention attracted
women more than overt and cloying interest. He sat at the counter
while she bustled about making his drink. A moment later she put
the espresso in front of him along with a slice of pumpkin pie with
a thick layer of whipped cream. She leaned close, her scantily
covered breast pressing against his arm for the smallest moment. It
was meant to appear accidental, but Z knew better.

“We make the pies fresh daily, and we’re about to
close up. We’d have to throw it away, anyway,” she said. “Don’t
tell my boss.”

“Thanks.”

As always when he was in town, a few folks turned
away, others whispered and stared. They knew there was something
other
about him; they just couldn’t figure out what it was.
Women like the one who’d served his drink and pastry were drawn to
it like magnets. Others had better self-preservation instincts.
Never in a million years would they suspect that what sent their
spider senses tingling was the fact that he wasn’t human.

He tuned in his sensitive hearing to one of the
conversations nearby. A couple of tables over, two women were
talking, not having noticed his presence yet.

“I heard Mayor Walsh wanted to find someone willing
to rebuild that house on Cranberry Lane. They still have the
original plans in a vault. It was on the registry of historical
homes,” one of them said.

“Elizabeth, you know, it’s funny, but I don’t think I
recall what the house looked like. I know I must have driven by it
a hundred times at least,” the other replied.

Elizabeth twisted her auburn hair up and put a clip
in it. “That’s strange. You know you’re right. It burned down, but
I can’t recall if it was arson or an accident. It was only a few
months ago. I should be able to remember.”

“Didn’t Anna Worthington live there for a bit? I’d
heard she did, but maybe I’m wrong. I mean, I haven’t seen her in
years since she ran off with that…”

Z let their conversation trail off. Boring, like so
much of the idle chitchat in this town. But then his senses picked
up on something much less boring from the opposite direction. He
stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck rising at the new
presence.

Vampire.

Z didn’t turn, instead waiting for the vamp to come
to him, as he knew he would. What else would a bloodsucker be doing
in Golatha Falls? The night-walking breed preferred cities with
nightlife. Soccer moms just weren’t their flavor of choice. Any
vampire in this town had a purpose in being here, and Z didn’t like
that the vamp’s purpose might have to do with the pup.

As expected, the vampire sat on the barstool next to
him. He looked like a bodyguard. Before whatever ominous message
he’d come to deliver got said, Cherry sidled up to the bar, using
her flirtatious routine on the vampire. It wounded Z’s male pride a
bit, but his larger concern was the look in the vamp’s eyes as he
sized up the voluptuous snack in front of him.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asked. Her voice
was laced with innuendo, as if some small corner of her mind knew
the truth about the being she was now faced with.

“You,” the vampire said.

Z groaned at the cheesy line. Vamps were all about
production value. Cherry was caught off guard, more used to the
even less suave pick-up lines of the average small-town male. She
made the mistake of making eye contact.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now give me your wrist.”

“Are you kidding me?” Z hissed. “Here? Now? Someone
will see you.”

The vampire didn’t take his eyes off Cherry, holding
her in his thrall as she offered her wrist. “There aren’t many
witnesses here. It shouldn’t be a hard clean-up job. But I’m sure
you’ll help block the view for me while I feed.”

The panther suppressed a growl. “And I’ll do this
because I’m such a good Samaritan?”

“No, because the one thing we have in common, besides
that pup you’ve got hidden away, is a desire for maintaining
secrecy from the humans.”

That cleared up any doubt about the vamp’s knowledge
of the pup. Z shifted his body to block the view, not believing he
was going along with this. But he knew the bloodsucker wouldn’t
drain her, and if a scene could be avoided, that might be for the
best.

The stranger brought the woman’s wrist to his lips,
his fangs descending into her flesh. Although Z hated vampires and
lived here primarily because the fanged crowd didn’t, he found
himself fascinated by the display. The fascination was short lived.
Within moments, Cherry was crying.

Z lowered his voice. “All right, you asshole. You’ve
got two seconds to let her go.”

The vampire raised his mouth from the woman’s arm,
blood trickling from the corner of his lips. The expression on his
face was mild. “I’m not hurting her.”

“Like hell you’re not.” It was just Z’s luck to run
into one of the more sadistic vamps that preferred feeding from
pain.

“Her tears aren’t what you assume. It’s release.
Absolution. I found her guiltiest secret, and I forgave her.” He
licked the drops of blood that ran down her arm and healed the
puncture marks. He turned to the barista; his eyes flicked to her
name tag. “Cherry, you will never speak of this.”

She nodded, looking drugged and hypnotized, then her
vision cleared and she stared at him for a long time before going
back to work.

When she was out of earshot, Z turned to the vampire.
He didn’t buy the blood drinker’s forgiveness story for a second.
“And what was her guilty secret?”

“That’s privileged information. I am bound to never
share the sins that are confessed to me.”

“What are you? A priest?”

“Once upon a time, yes.”

Z wasn’t sure whether the vampire was joking or
lying. The idea that he might be telling the truth wasn’t on his
radar. “Didn’t you get the memo? God no longer wants you, so you
can stop doing his work.”

A bemused smirk played across the vampire’s lips.
“You think I haven’t heard that one before? It’s not about God.
It’s about what I need and what those I feed from need. It’s a
symbiotic relationship that more should respect. They give me a bit
of the life flowing through them, and I give them the one thing
they most need to find happiness.”

Z shook his head and dug into the pie that had sat
untouched on his plate. He couldn’t believe he still had the
appetite for it after what he’d just witnessed and allowed. But
sometimes being the gallant hero just got more people killed.

“Now,” the vampire said, turning toward him, “let’s
talk about the pup.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Z
said between bites. This particular vampire hadn’t been with the
raiding party that had tried to take the pup the last time.
Confessing to nothing seemed the wisest course.

The vampire chuckled. “Play stupid if you like. I
need that pup. He will not be harmed, but it’s important. We will
get him one way or the other. Your cooperation will save everyone
trouble, and might buy you your life. Think about it.” He slid a
business card with a number on it across the counter. “I’ll be in
touch.”

“This your number?” Z asked.

A nod.

“Doesn’t have a name on it.” Not that Z planned to
call for a friendly chat. He just found the whole exchange
strange.

“You may call me Father.”

Z laughed. “It’s sad how vampires can never let go of
the past.” His voice lowered. “You get near that pup and you’ll get
a chance to go learn firsthand how much God doesn’t want you.”

“I love being the courier. Think of all the male
posturing and the lovely snack I would have missed had I stayed at
home. Be wise, Z. The pup isn’t yours. His fate doesn’t concern
you.”

Though he hadn’t ordered anything off the official
menu, the vampire placed a couple of bucks on the counter and
receded into the night.

The adrenaline and blood pumped beneath the surface
of Z’s skin. He’d been primed for a fight, and the vampire had
played it civilized. No fighting, only moderate threats. He waited
a few minutes before getting up to leave.

“I’m out, Cherry,” he said.

“Later, Z.” She seemed distracted still, but not in
any distress. Her features held none of the tension he’d come to
take for granted since he’d met her. That bloodsucking fiend
had
absolved her.