Cougar's Eve (6 page)

Excitement flew out of my mind as fear set in and I considered the possible outcomes of finding myself alone with a cougar. Mild shock set in. I could have been easily killed or maimed had the big cat attacked. I would have been helpless and at its mercy…and Murrlin, oh no! My sweet Murrlin could have been a tasty snack for the big cat. My grandpa had been right in suggesting I take my gun with me today. A shiver ran through me as I thought about his words.

It was this thought, along with self-preservation, that fuelled my decision to call Bud later in the morning and get a tranquilizer gun to carry around whenever I walked on my property. After all, I could never bring myself to harm such a beautiful creature. Maybe the hunters had been telling the truth regarding their search for a rogue cougar.

I closed the blinds and went into the bathroom to get a drink of water. When I returned to the bedroom, I turned on the light and looked under my bed to see if Murrlin was still cowering and, true to his nature, he was. Stretching under the bed, I reached forward to scratch under his chin, and he lifted his head for me to do so. He licked my hand then returned to his previous balled-up position.

As I was removing myself from the cramped space under my bed, another tingle of energy flew through my body. It was so slight, I was certain a rabbit or an animal close to its size had probably run in between the bars of the fence outside, causing the magical field to alert me to the disturbance. Had this happened while I’d slept, it would have hardly bothered me. The mildness of the alarm resembled a fly tickling my nose while I slumbered.

The tingle returned and became a rush of energy so strong it nearly flattened me to the floor. Whatever had caused the second surge of magic was not a small bunny. The barrier on the fence bent then broke completely as two large beings crossed it and were now most likely in my yard.

In my hurry to get out from under the bed, I smacked my head on the wood frame. I saw stars and said a few four-letter words as I walked toward my bedroom door to look out the windows in my living room.

Deer didn’t venture into my yard very often, but it was possible they could have been the culprit for the barrier’s alert. However, the two beings that crossed my fence felt much more powerful than two scared deer.

Wild animals didn’t take the time to test the fence either. They simply ran through the bars or jump over them without hesitation. The slight tingle then sudden rush of energy suggested whoever had just crossed my barrier had higher brain functions than most four-legged animals. The only way to identify the intruders would be to look outside. Without a doubt, I wanted to know what had been strong enough to break my magical barrier.

I groaned when I realized a broken barrier meant stray ghosts would be able to visit me at will—at least in my yard—until I’d properly re-warded my iron fence. It was always a pain in the neck to get them out of my yard and on the other side of the fence because then they knew damn well I could see and hear them.

I turned off my bedroom light again to blend in with the darkness and waited for a moment for my eyes to adjust to the sudden lack of light. Unease ran through my body as my Sensitive abilities kicked in, and I realized I would only feel better if I had something with which to protect myself. My firearm remained in my backpack, which was careless of me, and I wished I’d taken the time to return it to my safe. After I’d come in with Murrlin, where had I put it? I groaned to myself as I realized it was at the far end of the hallway leading to my living room. At least, it was inside and not in the SUV.

I walked down the dark hallway and nearly jumped out of my skin when thunder suddenly snap-boomed like a large firework going off. A high-pitched yipping noise sounded outside my house, and I crept to my front door, hoping not to scare off what I believed was a coyote. Most coyotes made assembly yips to call their group together before a hunt, to locate each other if they’d lost their pups or simply to check-in with each other. They traveled in family groups— a male, female, and their litter of pups, which can range from two to six per season—and I was excited to see the reclusive predator in my own backyard.

The motion detector light on my garage turned on, illuminating the driveway. My eyes could hardly believe what was before them when not one coyote but two raced across my yard, chasing a large black animal. My first thought was that the animal with black fur was another coyote, the color unheard of in the species, but as the lightning flashed, I saw they were chasing an ebony cougar!

Shocked at the sight before me, I quickly closed the door and moved to watch from my kitchen window. I had no idea which beings had crossed my magical barrier first, but I was fascinated, to say the least.

The trio never ventured back into my yard, and after five minutes of waiting, I returned to bed. It was highly odd that coyotes would dare chase a cougar in the first place, but to have a panther run through my backyard was even stranger. Coyotes, though rarely seen, were common in Illinois; cougars were extremely rare.

The Department of Natural Resources had downplayed the existence of cougars in the surrounding counties of Pike, Calhoun and Greene, much to the annoyance of local residents.

This was one of the reasons Karisma had been so excited to report the cougar sighting in the first place. She had two witnesses who were willing to state openly that they had seen a big cat. I’d never been fortunate enough to find a cougar print, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there somewhere.

After more than two decades of panther sightings, the government agency finally admitted there
might
be an occasional rogue male running around, but they insisted there was definitely
not
a breeding population of cougars. Yet, I’d seen one of the beautiful animals not once but twice in one night. How freaking amazing was that?

Too wired to go back to sleep, I turned on the television hoping to find something distracting to occupy my mind. The storm diminished to a soft rain, and Murrlin came out to join me on the couch. The last thing I wanted was to start thinking about my disastrous afternoon and evening, but of course, it was difficult to keep out of my mind. I flipped through hundreds of channels of awful programming and finally turned the useless TV off. Lying back on my couch, I closed my eyes and tried to relax.

Pounding on my front door startled me, and I sat up so quickly Murrlin fell off my lap and onto the floor. With an undignified thunk, he rolled onto his back then stood up and looked at me as if to say, “I meant to do that, of course.” He allowed me to pet him as an apology then trotted off toward the hallway.

It was still dark outside so I flipped on the porch light to see who in the world was bothering me at five-thirty in the morning and, for the third time that day, was absolutely stunned.

Chapter Six

Covered in blood, Vale stood on the other side of my storm door. His shirt was crimson and so were parts of his jeans.

“Eve,” he whispered as he leaned against the glass. “Please…please help m-me.” One of his hands pressed against his abdomen and the other pushed against the glass, leaving a bloody streak as he sank to the ground.

I ran to grab a bunch of towels. By the time I returned, he’d slid all the way down and blocked the opening of the door with his body. Cursing, I sprinted out the side door to my garage and impatiently waited for the electronic metal door to open. Running around the corner, I slipped on the wet grass and skinned my hands as I braced my fall.

Regaining my stance, I ran to Vale and helped him sit up as I supported his weight. Cradling his head against my chest, I gently moved his hand from his stomach and quickly realized my mistake as blood flowed freely from the wound. I pressed a towel against the gash, applying pressure and thinking of my next move.

Hospital. I had to get him to a hospital.

“Hold this, Vale, and don’t let go,” I ordered him. His blue eyes were glassy and unfocused as he looked up at me, and I realized I was losing him. “Vale!” I shouted in his ear and slapped my hand against his face. “Stay with me, dammit!”

He whispered, “Not going anywhere,” then weakly smiled.

“Good. Now, let’s get you inside so I can call an ambulance,” I said as I helped him stand.

“No!” he nearly yelled as he looked around wildly. “No ambulance, no hospital!” He lost his balance and pulled both of us against the door. “Promise me, Eve!”

Even in his weakened state, his strength amazed me. To pacify him for now, I replied, “Fine, no ambulance for now.”

He shook his head and started to collapse. “Would rather die out here.
No
ambulance,
no
hospital.” He begged with his eyes.

Damn, damn, damn! How could I possibly make that promise? I had limited medical knowledge, very few supplies and one bottle of Tylenol. There was no way I could treat his wounds, and I was scared for his life.

“Eve!” he shouted. “Please!”

“Okay, but you’d better not die on me, mister!” I said emphatically as I helped him into the house. He leaned heavily on me as I directed him to the spare bedroom.

Vale groaned loudly as he dropped onto the mattress, the springs squeaking as they supported his weight.

“I’m going to grab some alcohol,” I informed him. “Be right back.” I ran from the room and into my bathroom. Knocking over bottles of hairspray, toilet bowl cleaner and other random containers, I frantically searched for rubbing alcohol but found none. I grabbed a box of gauze and Tylenol, hoping he wasn’t allergic to acetaminophen, then dashed into the kitchen. Thinking I had whiskey sitting around from years past, I quickly opened and closed cabinet doors. Though I rarely indulged, I found a bottle at the back of the cupboard.

I returned to my patient. “We need to get your shirt and jeans off so I can clean your wounds,” I told him as I reached for his T-shirt. He was obviously in too much pain to move with more than a little effort, so I grabbed the neckline of his T-shirt and pulled. It refused to budge, and I cursed. I went into the kitchen in search of some scissors then returned with a pair as well as Duck tape to wrap the wounds. After cutting through the thin cotton T-shirt, I pushed back the two halves and concentrated on his abdomen.

There were two deep puncture marks along with torn skin over the muscles of his abs, and I realized he’d been bitten by something. After wiping the excess blood from the punctures on his abdomen, I noticed more coming from underneath him. Suspecting there were more wounds on his back, I tried to gently push him onto his side, however, due to his bulk, I only succeeded in moving him slightly. Luckily, I had enough strength to hold him long enough to see that I was correct.
What the hell had happened to him? What kind of animal could do this to a person?
A huge mouth had created the large wound. The radius of the bite was massive!

Keeping him in place with the side of my leg, I propped him up about an inch so I could reach the punctures on his back.

“This is going to hurt,” I told Vale just before I pressed the towel soaked with whiskey against the wound on his back. He ground his teeth together but made no noise as I worked as quickly as possible. Pressing a clean towel to his wound, I cleansed the puncture on his abdomen. The pain must have been greater this time, and he hissed as the liquid stung deeply. Amazingly, the bleeding began to subside, and I thanked God for it.

Still needing to deal with the wound on his leg, I decided to cut off that section of jeans instead of trying to pull it from his body. I was concerned the effort to move yet again would be too great for Vale. The second set of wounds was on his upper thigh, and I audibly swallowed, trying to put aside my nervousness about seeing the man in his underwear.

He needs you to do this fast, Eve. Just be professional and ignore his manly parts, for Pete’s sake!

Steeling myself, I carefully but speedily cut away the denim material. Thankfully, the wound was on the top of his thigh and not underneath his leg, so moving him wouldn’t be necessary. He’d been incredibly fortunate that the bite wounds had been above his femoral artery or he’d be dead already.

Again, I poured the alcohol onto the wound, and he hissed in pain. After cleaning the wound as quickly as possible, I pressed another towel to his leg. Using Duck tape and gauze, I wrapped his wounds securely then collapsed onto the floor. Trying not to hyperventilate, I made myself relax, breathing slowly and concentrating.

My eyes flew open as I remembered the Tylenol, and I stood to give him a dose. Still cognizant but exhausted, he raised his head when I put the medicine into his mouth and the bottle of whiskey to his lips. Vale coughed and sputtered but managed to down the pills.

So much blood had seeped into his jeans, it was difficult to tell whether the wounds were
only
on the top of his thigh. To be certain he wasn’t bleeding from a laceration I’d not yet seen, I reluctantly realized I had to remove more of his jeans. After carefully cutting through the tough denim, I was able to remove the material piece by piece so as not to make Vale move. As I got closer to his zipper, I began to suspect he went commando then my suspicions were confirmed. Though I tried not to notice—mostly, at least—I was shocked at the size of the man’s penis.

Even flaccid, he was impressive, and the large, thick organ rested on his right thigh.

Stop staring, Eve! Get a freaking grip!

Knowing full well I was blushing a thousand shades of red, I got rid of the material and tossed it to the floor.

Covering him up with sheets and several thick blankets, I stood up to fetch more clean towels and a bowl of water to remove the blood from his knuckles and arms.

He grabbed my hand as I turned to leave. “Th-thank you, E-Eve.” Then he passed out cold.

Chapter Seven