Captive Moon (13 page)

He opened his mouth to respond when the sound of someone hammering on the door made him turn his head. A low growl rose from his chest and he fought not to let out a piercing cougar roar. All of this stress on the third night of the moon was forcing his magic too close to the surface. He would probably have to change into cat form later to compensate.

He stepped toward the door. “Who in the world can be calling in this storm? Grand-mère, we can discuss this potential challenge later. You have not made the terms clear to me, as you seem to believe.”

She stepped from around the couch and a small smile turned up one corner of her mouth as she passed him in a blur, reaching the door first. “I never said I made the terms clear to you. I have already filed the formal challenge with the council and chief justice.” She sighed suddenly, her voice and scent determined but sad. “This has been a long time coming, Antoine.” She avoided his hand when he reached out to grab her arm. “Our visitor should be the person who will officiate the challenge. I was expecting him when Larry and Bruce arrived, but he wouldn’t rattle the knob as they did. He would simply walk in. He apparently was delayed by the storm, since he intended to be here before I challenged you.”

“Who in the world would agree—?” But he didn’t need to finish, because he knew the one person on the council who would brave the fires of hell, the depths of the ocean, or a winter blizzard in Germany, to watch one of the Monier family fall in combat. Antoine felt both a snarl rise in his chest and a sinking feeling rumble the pit of his stomach. “Merde!”

“Ah, you have guessed,” Giselle said, as she unlocked the first deadbolt on the door. “The battle will be officiated by the worst enemy the Moniers have ever known, save themselves. Councilman Ahmad alNarmer, representative for the snakes.”

CHAPTER Seven

“No, no. Higher, Matty! She needs to have to work to reach it.”

Tahira toweled her hair as she watched Bruce and Matty preparing to feed the large female Bengal, Babette.

A sudden sharp pain made her let out a startled yelp and pull her foot away from the male cub, who had decided that her toes were chew toys. He immediately pounced on the retreating prey, so she picked him up by the scruff of the neck and nipped his ear with a small growl. The cat hissed and spit and struggled to free himself while Tahira held him at arm’s length with a smile. The cubs were just darling—

so feisty and playful.

She and the cub both turned their heads at the sound of Babette’s light series of grunts and chuffing. Tahira set the cub on the ground, and he bounded over to his mother and began to feed. His sister climbed from the shallow, running stream that led to the pool, shook herself, and quickly nestled in beside her brother for some milk.

“That high enough, mate?” Matty asked.

Tahira shook her head in wonder. She knew they were in a basement, but the underground lair was simply amazing. A small man-made stream ran through the cattails that hid an aerator. They fed a small pond that looked, for all the world, as though it should be in the middle of a summer meadow. The stream wound its way to the opposite corner and fed into a large, deep pool, with molded plastic sides and walls. The blues, grays, and white created an arctic landscape. Everything was lit with recessed, fullspectrum lighting with dimmer switches that could bring full noonday sun or twilight to the room. Tahira had chosen the glacier pool for her swim. The impression of ice had appealed to her when she’d changed into an apricot one-piece suit that matched the highlights in her hair. She was overheated and sweating after leaving the bedroom and talking to Giselle. But she hadn’t noticed that the water was chilled to near freezing by a refrigeration unit until after she’d jumped in.

The long string of screams and swearing when she surfaced made the three men laugh and one cub try to climb the walls. Only one thought had flowed through her mind as she shivered and tried to catch her breath. What in the hell sort of animal does the owner of this place shift into?

Giselle had been right about needing to cool down. So much steam rose when she hit the water that the humidity in the room rose by half. Her hair was going to be a frizzy mess. But it did cool her down enough that her skin was nearly back to its normal color.

Just remembering the water made her shiver, so Tahira turned her attention back to the men. When Bruce nodded, Matty tied off the rope to a nearby hook. There seemed to be hooks and pulleys all over the place, along with a variety of floor textures, from Astroturf to sea-grass mats to rubber. Both she and the wild tigers were finding the room quite entertaining.

“Charles must have known that we were coming. I can’t imagine that he normally stocks sika deer and antelope in the walk-in, but Babette will be thrilled.” Bruce was looking at the antelope with a pleased expression.

The skin and hooves were still attached, and it was swinging slightly in the breeze from the vent.

The whole notion of “presentation” of food to Babette interested Tahira. Since she’d become a tiger, she had been hunting live game on the moon. She’d never really stopped to think about animals in captivity. The drive to chase, hunt, and kill was still there. She knew that she would become quite depressed if, for every meal, day after day, a steak or part of a deer was simply tossed in a bowl.

“Right. She should have a fair go at that. Will she fossick it by herself, or do we call her attention to it?”

asked Matty.

Larry laughed as he walked up to the pair holding the kylie that Matty had just finished carving. “Don’t worry. She’s been watching you two the whole time. She knows exactly where it is. But the cubs come first. She’ll find it in a bit, when it’s a little warmer and smells stronger. Here’s your kylie. Sorry it took so long for me to get it pulled out of the wall, but that’s a long climb to the ceiling!” He smirked when Matty reddened and smelled of dry embarrassment. “You do realize that a kylie is called a ‘rabbit stick’

because it’s meant to be thrown at ground level, right?”

“Yeah, I know, mate. The trouble is that I did throw it at ground level. Guess I need to work a mite on the angles.”

Tahira rubbed the towel against her face as she struggled not to laugh. She had been thankful that she could duck under the water to avoid being hit by Matty’s various failed attempts at hitting an archery target next to the door. The odd sound of wood wobbling through the air, combined with a panicked

“Down, mates!” had been enough for her to stay in the pool until the kylie was safely embedded in the foam wall two stories up.

Larry was kind enough not to rub it in. “It’s a shame that we didn’t think to bring Babette’s diet sheet in our packs, Bruce. We should have remembered she couldn’t travel yet. Does she need some vegetables today?”

“I think I saw a couple of small pumpkins in the walk-in. She’d probably love to chase them in the pool.”

“Wild tigers eat pumpkins?” Tahira couldn’t help but ask. Of course, she loved pumpkins, raw or in pie, but it hadn’t occurred to her that wild ones would as well.

Bruce nodded and walked toward her, pausing to give Babette an affectionate scratch behind one ear on the way.

“Well, it’s more about touch and smell and the game of it. Pumpkins float and Babette likes to jump into the water to chase them around. Then she’ll nose it and chew on it like a bone. It’s just about head sized and squishes under her teeth and claws. But they’re high in vitamins, too. I don’t want to spoil her too much with all of this fun food in one day, though. I’ve already hidden two of the rabbits that Giselle caught behind some rocks in the cattails for her to find. There’s also grass growing in one corner of the enclosure in the next room, and we’ll add in some crickets and white worms at dusk. The cubs will like chasing them, and Babette will eat the ones they squish.”

“This is an amazing basement! It must have cost a fortune to build,” said Tahira. “I guess the owner is pretty rich, huh?”

“Charles has had this place for a very long time. He’s built it up over the years to entertain the animal side of the various dignitaries in the Sazi world.” Bruce bowed slightly. “And now to the Hayalet as well.”

Tahira moved her head a bit ruefully. “Technically speaking, you probably shouldn’t be entertaining a Hayalet. Unless my parents step in, it’s pretty likely that the people in my grandparents’ village will want me to be either killed or banished if they find out. I didn’t tell my folks that you were Sazi when I told them I’d been rescued, because there’s been a blood feud between the two cultures for centuries.”

“I’ll be stuffed!” Matty exclaimed, while Larry shook his head angrily. “Do you really think they would?

Hurt you, I mean? Just for staying in a house with us?”

“It’s not like the Sazi can talk, Matty, and you know it.” Larry’s voice dropped several notes.

Matty shrugged and sighed. “Yeah, I suppose that is tall poppy syndrome. We can’t really talk about being vicious when we’re up ourselves about whether we turn on the moon. Lots of family members back home in Sydney who won’t ever be Sazi get spewin’ mad at the way they’re treated. Still, we’re not all arses, Tahira. You’re welcome back if they give you the boot. I’m sure Antoine would say the same. He’s a high mucky-muck councilman, so he could get you settled somewhere.”

“That may not be true for much longer.” Antoine’s voice took all of them by surprise. It was as though he had magically appeared behind them. Nobody had heard him enter the room. Matty jumped several inches because the taller man was directly behind him when he spoke. “I’m afraid that all of our lives have just taken on a distinct… twist. Tahira, could I speak to you in private for a moment?”

Tahira felt a shiver that had nothing to do with air temperature or a cold pool. Then butterflies started to tumble in her stomach and she stood up somewhat nervously. She couldn’t read Antoine’s expression at all. That worried her. It was as though he had disappeared inside himself. No facial expressions or scent of emotions—in fact, no scent at all, which seemed impossible. There was nothing to guide her.

Oh God! Could my family already be here?

Larry was the only one to notice her brief moment of panic. He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze and smiled encouragingly.

Antoine turned and walked toward the door, pausing by Babette. He and the tiger stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and Antoine nodded. Tahira was just slipping on a thick terry-cloth robe over her swimsuit when he turned back to them.

“Babette would appreciate it if you would raise the antelope a bit higher and open the entrance to her compartment so the cubs can watch her pull it into the grass.”

Tahira was taken aback at what appeared to have been a direct request from the tiger, but Bruce nodded as though it was commonplace.

“I wondered about that. She’s been off her feet for a bit and probably wants some exercise. We’ll take care of it. C’mon, Matty.” The pair walked off, with Larry following in their wake.

Antoine turned back to her with that same blank expression. “Would you prefer to change first? There are some people upstairs who would like to speak with you.”

It confirmed her worst fears. Her mouth felt like sand and her skin was flushed again. “I don’t have anything here that my kabile would consider suitable clothing. My grandfather would kill me for certain for wearing a swimming suit where people could see me, but the clothes I had on earlier aren’t much better. He’s a traditionalist.”

The comment raised his eyebrows just a bit. “It’s not your family that’s arrived.” He looked her up and down for a long moment and pursed his lips. “But you have a point. Ahmad is also a bit of a traditionalist. Let us see if we can find you something suitable in my sister’s room. We’ll take the back stairs so we don’t run into anyone by accident before I’ve prepared you. But we must hurry, mon chat du feu. Time is running short.”

He walked away before she could ask the questions still trembling on her lips.

Who is this “Ahmad”? I don’t know anyone by that name. What sort of preparation is required to meet him, what in the heck does “mon shot do few” mean, and what about—?

She realized that she had started to follow Antoine through the doorway hidden behind a tapestry of a giant polar bear without asking a single question. The realization made her stop cold and remain frozen in place. He cocked his head questioningly when she failed to follow.

Tahira started to tick off reasons for staying put in her head. Let’s see… leaving the group… with a guy who looks pissed off… through a secret door… to climb an unlit staircase to who-knows-where. This is starting to feel like one of those bad horror movies where you want to beat the heroine senseless for ignoring the obvious.

But she wanted to follow, wanted to know where the staircase went, and wanted to meet this Ahmad. And then she understood what was wrong. Her defense class training was conflicting with what Grammy had told her on their last hunt together. One part of her brain screamed caution, drilled into her for years before she came into her animal form. Beware of following strangers into enclosed places. There’s safety in numbers. Always stay in brightly lit areas.

But Grammy’s advice made sense, too. Hayalet are ghosts. We’re one with the dark. There can be no stealth in a group, so seek the shadows and solitude. Explore new places, for you are the hunter. The game will not come to you, so always be prepared to follow and strike. Be the master of your surroundings.

She was feeling out of control, and had been ever since Rabi disappeared.

Reacting in panic made me careless and got me captured. Since then, I’ve been unsure of myself and depressed, so I’ve been letting others lead. I’ve been following along like a scared rabbit, when I should be kicking butt and taking names.

All that was about to change.

Tahira closed her eyes and let her ears and nose flood her brain with information, as though she were stalking prey in the pitch dark. The squeak of pulleys behind told her that Matty and Bruce had begun to raise the antelope carcass higher. The snarls and growls of the cubs were a lie, for their scent was joy and contentment. She searched outward farther and felt Antoine’s massive wall of power press on her from the doorway. She tried to find something… anything to give her a hint about his mood. But there was no scent other than that which lingered on her own skin. At odd moments, she could still taste brandy and chocolate.