Howling Moon (10 page)

F

Raphael clicked on the first attachment. The document had obviously been scanned into the computer after having been typed on an old-fashioned typewriter. He guessed from the formal language that the typed document was probably transcribed from something handwritten. It was a recommendation letter. It waxed poetic about Jack as the perfect replacement as head of Wolven because of his unique talents and abilities.

While he had outstanding healing ability, the talent that was most important was his ability as a telepath. According to the letter, Jack Simpson could slide in and out of most people’s thoughts at will, and could occasionally actually watch events through their eyes. This made him invaluable as an interrogator since he could enter the mind of a detainee during questioning and know the truth. It also meant that there would be no problems with faulty communication between Jack and the agents as he could pass and receive information mind-to-mind.

Catherine had inherited Jack’s telepathy. Raphael knew that from their earlier encounter. Whether she’d become strong enough to do the things the letter claimed her sire could was a question for a later date. It wouldn’t surprise him. Raphael decided to be very careful what he thought about her – and to work on his shielding. Until she learned to control her powers, she would probably pick up on things at random, without meaning to.

He also decided he’d have to remember to add a long conversation about ethics and eavesdropping into her Sazi training.

Raphael closed the document and moved on to the next attachments. There were no surprises, and nothing that seemed applicable to the new kitten. Still, it had been good of Fiona to send the information. Raphael wondered if she’d done it out of guilt. Did the burden of blame that they shared bother her as much as it did him? He didn’t know. If it did, she’d never let on.

Raphael shook his head, moving on to the next e-mail. It was from Charles. It thanked him for everything he’d done so far, and had several attachments included with the main e-mail that would be useful background information on Catherine and her family. It was all stuff he needed to know, but it could wait until later.

As usual, his son, Raven, had come through in spades. Attached to his e-mail was a list of reference books and videos about jaguars, training information from Antoine Monier on dealing with large cats and their fighting and hunting techniques, and a note letting him know that he should expect a FedEx package at the house by 3:00
p.m.
Monday. He was actually surprised that Antoine hadn’t offered to train me new turn himself. He was always on the lookout for new talent.

In the distance Raphael heard the slam of car doors. He turned, watching through the rain-spotted window as Catherine and Holly ran from the car up the stairs and into the main entrance of the clinic. They’d barely gotten inside before Ned arrived as well, speeding into the lot and parking his truck carelessly at an angle across three different parking spaces before sprinting to the hospital building.

Raphael stood for a long moment, staring down at the parking lot and grounds that divided the three buildings comprising the pack complex. He needed to get moving. It was already midafternoon. With the late fall days as short as they were, the moon would be coming up soon. The cat may or may not need to change, but she’d be irritable and restless, and no fit company for the humans. He’d give her an hour with Ned and Violet before he interrupted her for their first lesson.

In the meantime, he had a couple of errands to run, pack business to take care of. Not everyone would need to hunt on all three nights of the moon, but there were a few. With Tatya missing and Betty injured, somebody would have to lead the hunt. Martin would jump at the opportunity to do it – he was always chomping to show his authority. In fact, Raphael kept waiting for the other man to challenge him, try to take the position of second, but Martin always backed away just short of an actual challenge.

Then again, Raphael had always figured Martin for more of a shiv-in-the-back kind of guy – which was why Raphael never turned his back on Martin. Ever.

Cat turned at
the sound of a light tap on the door. Instinctively, she sniffed the air as the door swung open. It was Raphael.

“Catherine, can I speak to you a minute?”

She glanced over to Ned. He looked like hell. Never a handsome man, his weathered features were drawn with worry, his broad shoulders hunched with an exhaustion that came more from fear than from actual weariness. He gave her a resigned nod.

“Sure.” She rose, setting her purse onto the floor beside her chair. “I’ll be right back.”

“No problem.” Ned answered.

Raphael held open the door open for her, closing it firmly as soon as they were both through the door.

They walked a short distance down a long wide hallway, painted a pale peach with white trim. The gleaming white linoleum was speckled with dark gray flecks. Medical equipment was tucked away in various corners, and everything smelled faintly of antiseptic despite the hum of an air purifier that ran continuously.

There was a large nurse’s station in the center of the hall, but it was empty. The nurse who had been behind the counter when Cat arrived had apparently disappeared on some errand or other.

“First – “ Cat felt the words come out before she could stop them. “Call me Cat. Please.”

Raphael nodded coolly, not even asking about the change – of course, how would he know that she’d spent her life up until now trying to convince people
not
to call her by nicknames?

“So – what?” She tried to keep the irritation from her voice. She was worried about Violet, about Ned… hell, about everything. Part of it was the waiting. She felt so
helpless
just sitting there, wondering when, or if, her aunt was going to wake. And she was hungry. She hadn’t had anything to eat since… Cat shied away from the thought of last night. It was just too weird thinking about it. She really did feel like she was losing her grip on reality.

Raphael stood across from her looking utterly calm, a rock in the midst of the storm. “We need to talk about your training.”

“My
training?”
So, it was true then. She
had
heard something. She still had no idea where she’d heard it. But he obviously took her question the wrong way from his response.

“Cat, this was your first change. Over the next few months, as your talents manifest, we’ll discover how powerful you’re going to be physically and magically. Some of your talents are innate – based on who you are and things you’ve done as a human. Some of them will be ‘inherited’ from the Sazi who sired you.” He sighed. “It’s my job to see to it that you learn how to control your magic, your beast, and help you integrate into our culture.”

Well, that didn’t sound good! “And if I don’t
want
to ‘integrate?’” Her eyes sparkled darkly.

“That’s not really an option.”

She felt her brows raise, and crossed her arms over her chest. He might be gorgeous, but she didn’t like bullies. “I see. And when is this
training
supposed to start?”

“Did you have something else planned for the rest of this afternoon?”

Cat cast a quick glance down the long hall to the door of Violet’s room. There was nothing she could do for Violet, but it felt wrong leaving her. Still, she wasn’t alone. Ned was in there, and Cat knew that nothing would harm her aunt while he stood guard.

“Your aunt will be out for another hour or two,” Raphael assured her. “The magical sleep will end of its own accord when she’s healed.”

“You’re sure of that?” She met his gaze evenly.

“Absolutely.” He slid a yellow plastic bag off his wrist and tossed it in her direction. “We’ll be back before she even knows you’re gone.”

Cat caught the bag on the fly and flipped it open. Inside were a cheap set of gray sweatpants and a matching gray sports bra, along with a set of battered fantasy novels. She gave him an inquiring look.

“We’ll go down to the school gym. It’s Saturday, and the kids have an away game. We’ll warm up inside, go over the basics. Then I’ll take you into the grounds behind the clinic and we’ll see about catching ourselves a snack.” He smiled. “Why don’t you slip into the restroom and change clothes? I’ll tell Ned where we’re off to.”

Cat shot another guilty look in the direction of Violet’s room before making up her mind. “If you’re
sure
she won’t wake up.”

“Positive. Now… shoo.” The picture of him making a shooing gesture with his hands made her laugh. It had been a very long time since she’d done that.

“Fine, I’m going.”

“I’ll meet you right here in five minutes.”

Cat watched as he walked back to the room. She couldn’t help herself. There was just something about the way he moved that invited a woman’s gaze. Oh, and the way those jeans fit was practically sinful. It was enough to make her drool. Under different circumstances…

Raphael stopped with his hand on the doorknob, giving Cat a look that all but said,
I
know what you ‘re thinking.

Blushing, she turned and hurried in the direction of die women’s bathroom where she ducked into the first stall and started to strip. She liked him – what she’d seen of him. And she liked Holly.

It didn’t make sense, really. She didn’t know them! But she liked them, instinctively.

Cat tore the tags from the clothing he’d bought her and pulled everything on. The sweatpants were a little big, but there was a drawstring, so she was able to adjust them at the waist, and the larger size would give her more freedom of movement. The sports bra, on the other hand, was tight enough to be just a little bit uncomfortable. Still, it would give her enough support for a workout
and
she wasn’t likely to fall out of it.

She carefully folded the clothes she had been wearing and slipped them with her thongs into the bag with the books.

Raphael was waiting outside the door when she emerged. With a sweeping gesture he directed her to the staircase at the far end of the hallway. He walked just fast enough to get to the door before she did, and held it open for her to pass.

It was still raining. As she passed through the metal exit doors Cat listened to the drumming of rain against concrete, reveled in the feel of a cool mist against her skin. She inhaled deeply, relishing in the ozone-laced scent that makes the air feel as if the world is fresh-scrubbed and clean.

For no reason she could name, the rain gave her hope. Cat tilted her head upward, laughing as she dashed barefoot across the puddle-strewn parking lot shared by the private hospital/clinic, the pack administration building, and a large blocky redbrick building that could never be mistaken for anything other than a school.

Raphael took off after her. She heard him swear as his slick-soled shoes slid on the wet pavement. It was ridiculous. She laughed again as she waited under the awning that guarded the door.

He struggled to dig a large ring of keys from the front pants pocket of his soaked jeans. He had to fiddle with the lock for a bit before the door would open. Once again he held the door, letting her lead the way.

Cat glanced around, getting her bearings. She’d never been here before, but the setting was familiar. It was just like every school she’d ever attended. The walls of the entry way were filled with glass trophy cases and bulletin boards with construction papered notices. Farther down, the halls between the classroom doors were lined with tan metal lockers, each with its own padlock.

Just beyond a group of glass-fronted trophy cases were the three sets of recessed metal doors. “Do those lead to the gym?”

“Yup.”

The two of them passed through the hall, the sound of their wet footfalls echoing through the empty building. Cat paused to snicker at the huge sign painted above the doorway that read “Go Timberwolves!”

“The
Timberwolves?”

Raphael grinned, obviously pleased that she got the joke. “It seemed appropriate.”

“What’s the name of the school?”

“St. Francis Private Academy.” He turned the key in me lock and pushed the nearest door open for her.

“Cute.”

“I thought so.” He remarked. “Tatya… not so much. But Lucas liked it, so it’s what we went with.”

Cat thought about that for a minute. The complex was obviously not new. All three buildings looked as though they had been built at the same time, planned as a unit. They shared the same architecture, the same red brick. Both die clinic/hospital building and the school appeared to be immaculately tended, but there were still signs of long use. If Raphael had been here at the naming of the school he was definitely older than he looked.

Raphael walked across the gym to where the tumbling mats hung on the wall beneath the nearest basketball goal. “Here, help me with these.”

The navy blue vinyl mats weren’t heavy, just awkward, but they got them down and laid them out without any problem. Cat immediately began doing stretches. It felt good to do something physical. The gym wasn’t
cold,
but it was chilly. The vinyl of the mats
was
cold beneath her damp feet.

“You handled yourself well back at the house,” Raphael observed as he slid off his wet dress shoes. “I take it you’ve had some martial arts training?”

“Some.” Actually, she’d had quite a lot of training in self-defense, martial arts, evasive driving, even some work with guns: all of it at her parents’ insistence. When she’d been ten years old, one of the vice presidents of her father’s company had taken his family to Mexico on vacation. Their son had been kidnapped. Despite every effort, including paying a ransom that crippled the family financially, they found the boy dead a week later. His parents never got over it.
Hers
never forgot it.

It was partially that training that had helped Cat to survive the jaguar attack that killed her mother and father. One of her favorite teachers used to say, “Used correctly
anything
can be a weapon. Always stay alert to the possibilities.” She had, and was still alive because of it.

But her parents were dead.

“Cat?”

Cat shook her head and forced a smile. “Sorry, just thinking.”

Raphael gave her a long look, but didn’t probe further. Instead, he changed the subject by asking, “What would you like to cover first, physical training or magical?”

“Magical?” She didn’t bother to hide her skepticism.

“After everything that’s happened, don’t tell me you don’t believe in magic.” Raphael’s tone was so scathing she immediately felt her temper starting to rise.

Asshole.

It’s not nice to call your teacher names, Catherine, even if it is inside your head.

Her eyes widened at the sound of his voice
inside her skull.
That shouldn’t be possible.

Actually, it is. Your strongest gift will be telepathy, as it’s also a talent Jack has. Once you’re properly trained, talking mind to mind will be as simple for you as talking to someone on the telephone. You just need to think of him…

Cat felt herself swaying on her feet. She felt unaccountably hot, at the same time it was hard to breathe. Her stomach knotted.
Just like picking up the telephone… all you have to do is think of them… The voice in your head
–

Her stomach roiled and she tried to run for the doors. She didn’t make it. She tripped over her own feet, dropped to her hands and knees, and retched.

She heard Raphael moving around, heard a door opening in the background, and the sound of water running. She couldn’t turn her head to look, though; she was simply too sick to do anything.

The man who murdered her parents, who
ate
them in front of her, had been strolling in and out of her mind at will.

Cat closed her eyes. She wanted to scream, but she was afraid that if she started she might never stop. It was just too much. It was just too fucking much!

Warm hands lay a cool wet towel across the back of her neck. She opened her eyes to see Raphael cleaning the mess with silent efficiency.

“I’m sorry.” It was a croak.

“It’s all right.” He seemed sincere, and she appreciated that.

She expected him to ask why. Instead, he simply waited in silence with the uncanny patience she’d only seen before when watching animals hunt.

She shuddered as another spasm grabbed her stomach.

Eventually it was over. She was quivering and weak, but everything that was going to come up had. She shifted her weight, pulling her body away from the mess to sit cross-legged on the floor by the free-throw line.

“There’s been a voice talking to me in my head. A man’s voice. I thought I was going crazy.”

“Well, you’re not.” Raphael narrowed his eyes and lowered himself into a squat next to her, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. “What has he been saying?”

Cat looked up, meeting that intense hazel gaze. She watched as her next question hit him like a blow, rocking him backward onto his heels. “Little things, like suggestions as to what I should wear, not to buy silver jewelry. But
why
is he doing this? Why is he stalking me?”