The Cougar's Pawn (7 page)

“He’s not a shifter. Just human, so don’t worry about him biting you any more than any other kid does.”

“I’m not worrying about him biting me at all. He’s your kid.
Your
responsibility.” She handed Nick some more cheese. “Chew, then swallow, kiddo.”

He suppressed a chuckle.
Right.
She probably wouldn’t run from responsibility even if it had sharp teeth and a razor tail. “Just what kind of nurse are you, anyway?”

“Emergency room, most nights. Every so often, I get pulled up onto the neonatal floor when they’re shorthanded.”

“You’re all ER nurses? You and your friends, I mean.”

“No. Just me and Hannah. Miles works in maternity. We were all in nursing school together. Ended up at the same hospital.”

“So, you’re close?”

“Almost as close as I am with my sister.”

“That’s good.”

“Why?”

“Makes sense for our goddess to send Cougars to claim their mates in groups—”

“You mean
abduct
.”

She said po-tay-toe, he said po-tah-toe. “Fine. Taking women who know each other and have a built-in support system would probably make the transition easier.”

“The transition? You mean … oh,
hell
, no. I’m not going to let you scratch me up and turn me into some unholy furry abomination. As if being a witch isn’t bad enough.”

“What?” His furrowed his brow. Changing her? No way. “There’s really no fucking good reason to do that, even if you like your mate.”

She scoffed and tapped her foot repeatedly against the floor. “Nice. Kidnap me and insult me at every turn. You’re doing it wrong, dick.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.”

“That’s the way it came out. Own your words.”

He let out a frustrated growl and pounded the steering wheel hard enough to startle Nick. “Look, I just meant Mom didn’t want it. She doesn’t want to be a shifter, and Dad respected that, although the other Cougars swore that she’d be a liability. He fought a lot of Cougars over that. Brutal fights. Never lost, even up to the week he died of that heart attack.”

“Look, I’m sorry for your loss.”

“But?” He heard the
but
in her voice—in full likely,
but I don’t really care
or
but everyone dies, so get over it
. It’d been five years, but it was still hard being reminded of it.

“But your turmoil isn’t mine,” she said after releasing a long breath. “I appreciate that you’re in a pickle here, but you can’t rip me out of my life, plant me in yours, and think that’ll be okay.”

“I don’t think it’ll be okay. I never said that. I believe what I said was that we needed to cope.”

“That’s a girl’s dream come true, let me tell you.” She handed Nick some more cheese. “This is exactly what the happily-ever-after in my childhood dreams looked like. Being swept up by a big, strong man from whom I get more malice than magic and being told I can’t leave. Don’t hold your breath waiting for Stockholm syndrome to settle in.”

He growled and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Trust me when I say I feel just as trapped by this scenario as you do.”

“So let me go. Have your goddess pick someone else.”

“I can’t. It
has
to be you.”

“Why?”

Why? Because the clock had already started running down. It’d started the moment he’d tossed her over his shoulder and carried her into his home—the moment the cougar part of him said,
that’s her
. The two parts of his brain were having a battle about needs versus wants. The man part of him needed her. The cougar
wanted
her. Both sides were afraid he couldn’t make it work. He couldn’t tell her how afraid he was, though. He wanted her pity even less than he wanted a mate.

“Never mind,” she said. “Spare me the bullshit.”

They rode in silence for a while. She kept plying Nick with food, and Mason kept trying to relax his death grip on the steering wheel. Too fucking stressed. Long-assed day. Long-assed
year
.

“Did you hear that?” she asked.

“What, my stomach growling? I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“No, not that.” She leaned left, putting her ear very close to Nick. “He’s got a gurgle. Congested.”

“He’s always congested. Every time I pick him up.”

“Which is how often?”

“Sporadic.” He ground his teeth some more. She hadn’t even bothered suppressing her judgmental tone, and he didn’t like her making assumptions about him—blaming him for Jill’s failures. He did the best he could with Nick.

“You see your son sporadically? What does that even mean?”

He kept his lips locked and gaze on the road.

“Fine. Not my business. But does it ever go away? The gurgle, I mean.”

Mason let out a long exhalation and managed to loosen his left hand to let the window down a couple of inches. “I think he has it more often than he doesn’t. Why?”

“No reason. Maybe being sick all the time will be a great thing for his budding immune system.”

“I’ve only known you a day, but I’m pretty sure that was sarcasm.”

“You deserve worse than sarcasm.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Ellery. It’s been a rough year for the Foyes.”

“You’ve had a rough year? Ha! Wanna have a pissing contest? A year ago, I was a very ordinary witch with a very ordinary life. Now, I just assume that at any given time I’m going to be snatched up and kidnapped.”

“You’ve been kidnapped before?”

She laughed. “Oh, yeah. On my way into work. Wasted a lot of my hard-earned vacation time that week, let me tell you.”

“I’m assuming it wasn’t by anyone who wanted you for a mate.”

“Because no one else would want me, right?”

He growled. “I didn’t say that. Although, I hope that would be the case, because Cougars don’t share nicely and I don’t particularly desire having any new reasons for people to make alpha challenges against me.”

“Witches and demons don’t share particularly well, either.”

He swerved onto the shoulder with that declaration.
Demons
? “What do you know about demons?”

“Too much. I’m related to a few.”

He looked at her for elaboration, but she was staring out of her window. She didn’t seem eager to confide in him, and he didn’t really expect her to, given the hostile nature of their association at the moment. If she knew something about demons, though, Mom might have had the right idea after all. Or maybe
La Bella Dama
did. Ellery might be able to help seal off that hellmouth, but he didn’t really expect her to volunteer on her own.

He had to sweeten her up. Unfortunately, he had no idea how to do that. He was a Foye. Foye men were too practical for sweet, but he’d have to figure it out. There wasn’t just that hole in the ground to deal with, but Nick as well. Mason wouldn’t make a very good father if he had fulltime paws and a tail. In fact, he wouldn’t be any better than Jill.

If Ellery’s lazy-ass cat wasn’t going to get her rescued, she had one other thing to try.

As she walked slowly behind Mason and Nick from the truck to the house, she whispered her forebear’s name on the wind.

The wind goddess Agatha would always respond to her true name being called out, but Ellery didn’t know Agatha’s true name. Didn’t
want
to know it. Knowing a goddess’s true name was dangerous business because there was power in names. Agatha had left the offer on the table to tell her the name whenever she wanted to know, but Ellery hadn’t yet taken her up on it. Years ago, she’d thought it’d be improbable that someone would kidnap and torture her for that kind of information, but given her life as of late, she didn’t want to take the risk. Agatha’s name-for-the-moment would have to do.

“Agatha, it’s Ell. I need some help,” she whispered.

The wind brought the message back almost immediately.
“Where are you? I can’t feel you nearby.”

Agatha must have been listening out for her. When Ellery wasn’t hunkering down in the middle of nowhere inside a saggy tent, they usually talked every night … usually by more conventional means.

“Went camping. Got kidnapped,” she whispered. “I’m on a ranch in New Mexico, owned by some Were-cougars named Foye. Can you come get me and my friends?”

“Cougars. Huh. Mate-hunters. Are you safe?”

Of course Agatha would know about them. She’d probably seen everything in her thousands of years. Ellery stared at Mason’s plaid back as he reached for the doorknob. “Yes. He claims he’s not going to hurt me. I believe him.”

“I don’t imagine he will. Is he awful?”

“He’s an attractive asshole. That’s all I can say.”

“Cougars usually are, at least the males. Hang in there. I’ll get to your cat and see if we can track you. Need to get you out of there before his cougar settles. You might be able to talk him into letting you go if it hasn’t.”

“What do you mean by settles?”

“Deciding to keep you.”

“Too late, I think.”

“Damn, that was fast. I’ll figure something out.”

“Ellery, why are you muttering to yourself?” Mason asked from the open doorway. “Are you putting a hex on my balls? If so, please stop. I can’t exactly rely on my knucklehead brothers to ensure the continuation of the Foye line, so I really need those.”

“Did you just make a joke?”

He had the temerity to grin, but there was so much animal in that crooked smile, she couldn’t be completely sure he’d said it in good humor. “Come inside,” he said.

She followed him into the living room, where he dropped Nick’s bag on the coffee table and strode toward the kitchen. “I’m going to call my mother and let her know we’re back. And see if she cooked.”

“You do that.” Once he’d passed through the kitchen entryway, she turned to the door. She needed to finish that conversation with Agatha and see if the goddess could home in on her.

“Come in here,” he said.

“Shit.” She joined him in the kitchen and pulled a chair out from the table.

He held Nick in one arm, had the phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, and with his free hand, rooted through the cabinet over the sink.

“Well, well. Who ever said men couldn’t multitask?”

“Not like I have much of a choice.” He brought down a sippy cup at the same time he said into the phone, “Anything happen when I was gone?”

He half-filled the cup with tap water and set it on the counter. He mouthed “formula” to Ellery.

She crooked up an eyebrow.

“
Please
,” he added. “It’s for Nick, not me.”

“Ugh, fine.” She went into the living room to fetch it from the table near the door. Her gateway to outside was
right there
, and he couldn’t see her. She’d be stupid not to try. Setting the formula down, she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob, and turned it slowly. The catch clicked softly within, barely a whisper.

Thank God.

“Ellery, I have a cougar’s sense of hearing. Don’t forget that. Get away from the door unless you want to play chase. Trust me that if you’re
it
, you’re gonna lose.”

Dammit.

She scooped the formula canister up and returned to the kitchen, catching Mason on the end of his call.

“Yeah. That’s good. I’ve got to get up early to finish up that Danville order. Had some problems with the moldings. I’m going to hit the hay as soon as I can.”

She hoped he slept like a rock—deaf and unmoving. Even if he slept with his back to the front door, he was pretty screwed. There was another door, and desert outside or not, she was going to take her chances and hope Agatha snatched her up before the buzzards did.

Ellery looked at her watch. Nearly eleven.
That child should have been in bed hours ago.

“Did you cook?” Mason pressed his thumb over the sippy cup’s spout holes and shook the cup. “Nothing left, huh? Don’t worry. We’ll manage. Nick ate in the truck. He should be okay until morning. Gotta go shopping tomorrow.”

“What guy doesn’t have food on-hand for his kid?” she muttered.

“See you in the morning,” he said into the phone. He handed Nick the cup, pulled the cordless phone from his ear, and set it in its cradle. “I wasn’t expecting him.”

“So you just assumed your mother would feed you? I would have thought you’d grown out of that expectation already, at least by the time you became a daddy.” Her stomach let out a beseeching growl and she sighed. How intimidating could she possibly be if her stomach was doing the talking?

“She’s a damned good cook, and she happens to enjoy it. It’s either we eat it or she throws it out.”

“Convenient, I’m sure.”

Ellery opened several cabinets and found a large pot, the noodles, and a dusty—but not yet expired—jar of spaghetti sauce. She got the water set up to boil, and turned to Mason, hands on hips.

“Are my friends okay?”

He grunted and switched Nick to his other arm. She had to concede the kid looked comfortable enough there, and Mason seemed equally relaxed in holding him. Maybe he didn’t play daddy regularly, but he seemed to know the basics. “I’m sure they’re fine. You gotta remember that Mom was once in your shoes. She’ll say all the right things to them and keep them calm. Your friends are probably happier than you are right now.”

“I’m sure they are, if your brothers aren’t sniffing around.”

“They’ll keep their distance until they work out who gets which. That may not be immediate.”

“So, Hannah and Miles stay in lockdown with your mother until your brothers figure it out? What are they supposed to do about their jobs and families? They’re going to be looking for them. For
all
of us.”

Nick held his cup out to her.

“Aw, thank you, but you keep it. You need it more than I do.” She could certainly use a drink, but it needed to have a much higher proof than what was in that cup.

“You’re a long way from home,” Mason said. “I imagine it’ll be a while before anyone finds you. It was dark, and we didn’t leave many tracks.”

“That slipped off your tongue so easily. I’m not licensed to practice psychology, but I’d bet my new car that you’re a sociopath.”