Fading (Shifter Rescue)
Sean Michael
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Copyright ©2016 Sean Michael
BIN: 07660-02470
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Changeling Press LLC
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www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Katriena Knights
Cover Artist: Karen Fox
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Sean Michael
When Pirou calls his brother Jag to the Old Tavern Club to help with a pair of lynx shifters, Jag is happy to help. Rescuing and rehabilitating big cats is his job, and it makes him the perfect person to take on the pair that Pirou has rescued from a circus.
Mates Hill and Cather were about to be put down by the circus that owned them as they refused to perform after their Master, tiger shifter Darri, was killed in an accident during his last performance. The pair have been beaten, mistreated, and are near death’s door, so it’s going to take all of Jag’s resources to help these two kitties find themselves again.
Along the way, Jag just might find his heart in peril, too.
Jag parked behind the Old Tavern and knocked on the back door. While the place might look like nothing more than a pub on the ground floor of an office building downtown, he knew better. He knew the secrets the Old Tavern held. He was, after all, a part of them. He wasn’t involved in every rescue, but he contributed financially every year and, whenever his skills were needed, he would come in and help turn around rescues.
His field of expertise in the “real world” was rehabilitating big cats who had been held captive, rescued from circuses and sideshows. The reasons why he was so good at it were two-fold. One, he was a cat shifter himself, his jaguar fast and strong, an apex predator. Two, long experience from an early age.
Shifter rescues were both easier and harder to help than “normal” big cats. As they were part human, they could understand and respond, though some sank so far into their animal selves that they could no longer tap into their human sides. Being part human also made them more complex than their one-hundred-percent animal counterparts, though, and instinct and breeding weren’t as easy to predict.
He did love the challenge of big cats -- shifters and not -- so getting a call from the Old Tavern was both sad, because it meant someone needed rescuing, but also made him eager to face the new challenge, to help someone who needed him.
Jag knocked again, a little louder this time.
“Sorry. Sorry, I was settling a new client. We’re running a full house today.” Pirou was clearly distracted, hardly even seeing him. Mind no doubt on the many shifters in need.
Jag smiled at Pirou. The rescues… well, Pirou did a bit of everything, and the place would be chaos without him. Slender and sweet, and a total sub with the biggest heart imaginable, Pirou was perfect for the job.
“Hey.” Jag touched Pirou’s arm. “It’s fine. You called. A new kitty, I presume?”
“Uh-huh. Two. I thought they were dead when they first came in. Lynxes.” Pirou shook his head, sighed softly. “They refused to perform after their handler died. The management had them beaten.”
Jag growled, baring his teeth. “Some people shouldn’t be allowed near animals, let alone our kind. Did they know they had shifters on their hands?”
He stepped in and Pirou closed the door, locking it carefully.
“I don’t know, love.” Pirou came to him, rubbing his cheek against Jag’s in greeting. “It’s good to see you, brother.”
He gave Pirou a quick, tight hug, enjoying the mingling of their scents. “You too. We really need to try to get together just for lunch or something once in a while.” He knew even as he said it they probably wouldn’t. They were both too busy. At least his involvement with the Old Tavern kept them in touch on a regular basis.
“Now let me meet these near-dead lynxes. There’s work to be done.” Jag knew that Pirou would be as anxious as he was to bring comfort and relief to these abused kitties.
“Come with me. They’re in the mauve room, hiding under about ten thousand blankets.”
Making a cave. That made sense. And the mauve room was on the second floor, a light lilac room with no windows, buried well within the warren of rooms. If he remembered correctly, there would be rooms with a small kitchen, living room and a bathroom, along with another bedroom attached, so the rescues could feel like they had their own territory within the little apartment.
“Have they communicated with you at all? Eaten? Drunk water?” Food and sleep and comfort would be the first order of the day. “Have they shifted at all?” He needed as much information as he could gather before going in there.
“Communicated? No. Eaten? No. Drunk water? Yes. Shifted? No. They were on IVs and feeding tubes for more than a month before they even began to heal the actual trauma. Doctor Franx says they’re healthy but emotionally devastated.”
There had to be a good reason why he was only being called in more than a month after the rescues had arrived. “And you didn’t call me earlier because they only came to today?”
Pirou nodded and Jag followed his brother to the mauve room on the second floor.
“Have they let anyone near them since they’ve been awake?” he asked.
“They don’t seem to care. The only response anyone has seen was when they tried to separate them. The bigger of the two had to be sedated.”
“All they’ve had is each other, so that’s not surprising. Poor babies.” He gave Pirou a hug, knowing they both needed it after discussing what had happened to these latest rescues. It was always awful to see a shifter abused, but the cats in particular struck a chord. “The mauve room has a suite attached to it?” He was pretty sure he was remembering the layout correctly, but he’d hate to have to move the lynxes, and he’d need a separate living area, and a kitchen, possibly even a bedroom for himself, though he could curl up in any corner and get some shut-eye.
“It does. With two of them, I thought we’d need space.”
“My clever brother. You always were good at anticipating everyone’s needs. Do we know their names?”
“Not yet.”
They arrived at the door and he took a couple of deep breaths, steeling himself for anything. “All right. Let’s do this thing.”
Cather didn’t open his eyes when the door creaked. He had Hill in his paws, and nothing else mattered. He wrapped tighter around his mate, protecting them both.
“Hello, kitties. My name is Jag and I’m here to help you.” The voice wasn’t a soft whisper like they’d been surrounded with so far. No, this voice was sure and confident, the words spoken loudly.
Of course, they didn’t need help. They needed to be left alone. Peace was coming. He could feel it like a promise. Darri was there in the light, waiting for them. They just had to wait.
“I’m not going away, either. I’m sorry you’ve been mistreated, but that isn’t going to happen here.”
Like they worried about the beatings. Darri was gone. Killed with an arrow right through the tiger’s huge, beating heart.
Cather could feel the covers over them getting lighter, someone digging into their cave. “I’m uncovering you now.”
Cather growled softly, the sound rousing Hill, who began to vocalize in harmony with him, adding his own warning.
“Easy, boys. Easy. I promise I’m not going to hurt you or make you move.” The covers kept coming off, their dark cave becoming lighter, brighter.
He squeezed his eyes shut and held on as tightly as he could. No one would make him leave Hill. Not ever again. Finally, he felt the air and the light touching his skin, but he didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t look, not for a moment.
“Oh, look at you two. Such pretty kitties.”
They had been once. They had been loved and cared for, well used and needed.
Something touched him. A hand. Sliding over his head. Cather bared his teeth. He was dangerous. Mean. A vicious animal, and he bit. Lots.
Silly Cather
. Hill’s voice was a balm against his mind, no matter the words or the tone.
Shut up. I can be, for you
.
You’re not, though
, his lover insisted.
Nobody knew him like Hill did. No one.
“Easy, boy. I’m not going to hurt you, not at all.” The touches continued, firm but not hard, sliding over his fur. Then the touches slid from him to Hill. Cather tried to cover every inch of Hill, to protect his dear lover, but he wasn’t big enough.
“He’s yours, is he? I can respect that. I’m not going to hurt him, either, though. Or try to take him away from you.” The bed dipped with the weight of the interloper and now he was petting Hill with one hand and Cather with the other.
Is he nice
? Hill asked.
Cather growled softly.
Does it matter? Darri is gone
.
Hill stilled beneath him, and for a second Cather thought Hill had gone to join Darri without him.
“I won’t hurt you,” the man said again, continuing to pet them both. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
Cather wasn’t afraid. He’d stopped being afraid a long time ago.
“You two must be starving. Do you two like meat? Rice? My favorite is Chinese take-out. I could get it delivered and we could eat together. I find that’s a great way to become familiar with someone. To trust them with food. There’s still water, too. In your bowls, and I have bottles if you decide you want to shift, show me your other form. I could start by showing you my jaguar first, though. Would you like that? Would it make you feel better?” The words went on and on, the deep, strong voice almost hypnotic.
Cather found himself relaxing despite everything, sinking under the weight of that sound.
“That’s better, kitty. I’m not going to do anything to harm you or your mate here. I swear. And one day you’ll shift, and you’ll tell me your name. Then I won’t have to call you kitty one and kitty two.” The man laughed softly.
Hill chuffed, obviously listening to the endless chatter.
“Oh, excellent. I didn’t know if you would get the reference. I should get the book and read it to you, hmm? That would be something to do together. I like reading. Everything from Seuss to Crichton.” The touches became deeper. The man wasn’t touching Cather harder, but it was as if Cather could feel it more the longer it went on.
As Cather faded, sank into the sounds, Hill seemed to wake up, wriggling underneath him.
“Everything okay? You hot? You need food? Water? Just let me know.” Jag just kept talking.
Hill pushed at Cather, trying to get him off.
No. No. They had to stay together. Right here. With each other until they joined Darri in the light.
“I think he needs something,” murmured the man, helping Hill to move Cather over so Hill could stretch and move away.
Cather took a tired swipe at Hill, but he was simply exhausted.
The man patted him, long gentle sweeps of his hand, easing him. “I won’t hurt him. I promise.”
Hill arched into the man’s touches, trusting easier than Cather, and he growled, warning Hill away.