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Authors: P.J. Schnyder

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction

Hunting Kat (6 page)

BOOK: Hunting Kat
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“Cubs,” the secondary male screeched. “You stole kindred cubs!”

The air sharpened with the bitterness of Rygard’s shame, his guilt.

He teetered on the edge of action, a step away from doing something stupid.

“We’ll get them back for you.” All eyes turned to her. She looked at Rygard. “We can. They’re alive.”

They’d taken the cubs alive for a reason. A huge black market existed for pets. She should know, she’d been one. There must be one on station. Her lip curled at the thought, red haze edging her vision.

She turned to the dominant male. “If we return the cubs, he and his go free. They were following orders.”

“And this commanding officer?” The male sounded intrigued, but Kaitlyn wasn’t fooled. Raging fury waited, banked in those eyes, his scent sharp with anger. The strength of his dominance pushed at her—invisible, intangible but very real.

Kaitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know him.”

And it would be the man’s death proclamation.

The alien’s gaze bored into her. Stubborn, she met him, fighting the urge to look down. She’d done it once today. She wouldn’t give another idiot male the advantage.

She’d feel guilty about the CO’s death, probably. But saving Rygard’s ass, and his men, had a more generous helping of her concern. She understood the trials of obligation in following the orders of a rotten commander.

“The word of a murderer has no value.” Couldn’t argue, but opinion formed in the eye of the beholder. “We will take your word, female, and see how much value it has.”

 

“Seriously?”

He didn’t answer. For the first time in his three decades, Rygard was at a loss for what to do. Kaitlyn paced the length of the hotel room and back again, fully dressed and lethal. The felids had left, taking their big cat with them. No damage to the actual door, they’d used a slim lock hack and smoke bombs when they’d attacked. The only evidence remaining of their visit continued in the form of her tirade.

And she was magnificent in a rage. More importantly, she hadn’t left him to die.

“It’s a freaking mistake repeated throughout history.” She didn’t shout, but her words shot out sharp as knives. “Following orders, my ass. You’re an officer. You, at least, have permission to think.”

He didn’t try to defend himself. He’d gone over the same reprisals on his own. Besides, she’d stepped up for him a few minutes ago, even after he’d started to make a solar-class asshat of himself.

Suddenly, violence incarnate filled his vision. Before he could blink, she stood toe-to-toe with him, pinning down every thought in his head.

“Why?” She asked the same question the felids had, needed a different kind of understanding.

He owed her at least an explanation, probably more. After all, she’d jumped neck-deep into this for his sake. “My tour ended with the last mission.”

She didn’t blink, knew what it meant. She proved it with her next words. “You weren’t going to re-up for another.”

He sighed. “I was searching for a yes or no at the bottom of my glass when you came into the bar.”

One gracefully curved eyebrow arched high. “I’m guessing you haven’t reached a decision in the time since.”

Despite the insanity of the attack, or maybe because of the adrenaline still coursing through him in response, Rygard’s blood heated. “Well, sweetness, I got a little distracted.” He risked settling his hands on her waist, tugging her closer when she didn’t draw blood. “Maybe more than a little.”

A smile hovered, but her countenance remained somber. “It doesn’t bother you?”

He had an idea of what she asked, but he found the body in his hands beautiful and those eyes shone all human. “I get the impression it isn’t the way you came into this life.” There, he saw it. Her gaze lowered, not to deceive, no, but to hide the flash of pain. “Tell me about it. Tell me why you spent so long alone.”

Her lips parted and a faint tremor passed through her entire body. He tightened his hands on her waist, trying to provide an anchor, but she shook her head.

“We’ve got a mission,” she said quietly. “You need to report in and then come back to take care of this.” A pause, then she flicked his hands away from her. The space she put between them left him cold. “You said this was temporary. I get that. But we’ll see this through. And don’t worry about the cred it’ll cost you, I’m not that girl.”

Chapter Five

“State your name, purpose and ship of origin.”

“It’s damned cold out here and there’s a panther at your door.” Her snarl carried down the corridor.

The little holographic worm with the shock of red hair immediately responded. “Come inside, have a cup of brew.”

She shot through the door even before it slid open completely, Rygard a half step behind her.

“Boggle, please tell me why the corridor is freaking sub-zero.” Her voice pitched to be pleasant, but Boggle was a smart little techno-geek. He had the grace to look nervous and wisely handed her a steaming beaker of richly fragrant coffee.

“We had some intruders prowling.” Boggle turned and sloshed another serving of coffee into a fresh beaker, before turning his servo-driven chair to face them, holding it out to Rygard. “The usual precautions weren’t a sufficient deterrent, so we adjusted the environmental controls until they responded as desired and took themselves out.”

“Were they humanoid?”

Boggle shoved a handful of snack crisps in his mouth, crunching loudly. “Remotely.”

She held her breath to avoid the combination of masticated carbs as his words sent crumbs toward her. She wondered if he’d had the same visitors she and Rygard entertained earlier. “Feline characteristics?”

He gulped down coffee in a loud chug, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before shaking his head. “Reptilian.”

“Sket’zes.” Rygard didn’t bother to hide his distaste. “If they’re on base, the black market auction will be held soon.”

“You looking to buy something?” Boggle belched and turned to his console.

“More like reclaim some merchandise before it goes off station,” she clarified.

Chubby fingers froze on the console, then a few screens cleared and new ones were brought up as Boggle reset his parameters. “Specs on the merchandise?”

“Live.” She wasn’t sure what sort of specifications to provide, but figured she’d give it a try and he’d let her know what else he needed. They were still working out this whole friends-with-information thing. “Small feline cubs, probably to be sold as exotic pets.”

Staccato taps beat out a speedy rhythm on the console as he entered the search parameters and began hacking through various databases. He talked while he worked, his attention fastened to the display. “Very unusual merchandise, exotic animals for pets. Only wealthy buyers for those, with the means to put the animals through decontam and bypass customs procedures on their home planet. Means the merchants are specialized too, with characteristic systems set up for maintenance and care of the animals while they’re on station. They’ll have sophisticated security and private guards.”

“Find them.” Kaitlyn didn’t worry. Anything on station, she could handle alone. “Any intel you can give me to locate them is key, additional support for planning to get them out is bonus.”

“You just going to walk in, take them, and walk out again?” The incredulous tone of Rygard’s voice pushed an internal button…or three. “I know these types. Shady isn’t the word for them.”

She turned, slowly, to look at him for the first time since they’d left the hotel room. The entire journey—and she’d made sure to take the long and confusing route to Boggle’s safe house—had provided time to find her center again.

“You might have intimate knowledge of me, but you don’t know me. You’ve made that abundantly clear.” She held up the comp holding Rygard’s background data. “I’m about to study up on you and make a few communications. While I’m gone, I suggest you absorb a few truths about me. Boggle will give you my background files.”

The best she could make herself do. She couldn’t tell him her story, couldn’t open up enough. Not face-to-face and not when he obviously thought of her as out to ensnare him. But she could still provide the answer to his earlier question.

“Boggle.” She made his name a request. Her new friend didn’t disappoint her. His focus still on the display, he nodded and made a shooing motion with one hand.

She turned on her heel and left.

Hell. To be honest, she retreated.

 

Rygard remained silent for a moment, watching her leave. The previous night, he’d been fascinated by the contradictions she presented. Now, he didn’t trust a single thing about them. Another pretty face, out to play him. Wasn’t she? A couple of those contradictions made him wonder how stupid he might be. Probably a little. Maybe a lot.

“She’s being fair, you know.” The heavy techno-geek turned away from the scrolling data displays to look at him. “She didn’t ask for the data I sent on you. I realized she planned to go with you and wanted her to know who she chose, but I guess my gift didn’t go over well.”

The stab of guilt hit hard.

A long moment of scrutiny. The kid perceived too much. The servo-chair spun again, and Boggle brought another console to life at the end of the counter. “Here’s her background data to even out the score. It’s buried under so much security, I practically had to hack to the earth’s core to get to it. So don’t touch anything.”

Why so much security? “Because she’s a mutation? How did she get her hands on the procedure?”

Boggle shook his head. “You soldier types absorb better in a briefing than you do reading up on reports, don’t you?” He tapped the display, zooming in to a specific set of files. “She didn’t go looking for the procedure. Three years ago, she lived on Triton Moon Base when it was occupied in a hostile attack. She played a key role in the rescue of the station and remaining personnel—as a cadet.”

Rygard knew of the incident. A small group of cadets had gotten a distress call out to Earth and provided valuable intel to Terran rescue forces, nothing short of amazing under the circumstances.

“Impressive.” He could respect the girl who’d survived the incident. Considering what he’d seen of her, she excelled in combat situations. A natural leader.

“Not merely impressive.” Boggle called up a set of medical reports. “She’s a survivor, captured during the occupation and taken prisoner.”

If the tech didn’t have his attention yet, he did now. Any female taken prisoner, and a girl as pretty as Kaitlyn, could face a lot of things and every one bound to be a nightmare.

And he’d seen nightmares haunting those beautiful eyes.

But the techno-geek didn’t leave it to imagination. He pulled up an audio file. “This is a clip of the debrief after she escaped captivity.”

A voice issued from sound projectors all around the room, Kaitlyn’s. The warm tone he remembered absent, her words flat and dead. “The virus took days to spread through my body. Fevers, acute muscle cramps, possibly a seizure, but I’m not sure. Halfway through the change, he came to my cell.” A pause. “He wrapped my hair around my neck, saying it would do for a collar until he could have a proper one made. Then he…” Her voice hitched. “He raped me. It took another couple of days for the change to complete.”

The audio clip ended. Boggle cleared his throat before he spoke again. “There are later briefs going into more detail. They made her tell every detail eventually.” He stopped to chug more coffee, grimacing as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. “Kaitlyn’s the only one left of the cadets taken. The rest didn’t survive the virus or the genetic mutation it forced on them at the cellular level. It was bioengineered to create true lycanthropes, shapeshifters.”

“Is that all?” Rygard worked to keep his voice steady. He’d been a dipshit to get mad at her for not revealing her trauma, for assuming she’d chosen to be what she was.

“Rape turned out to be only one aspect of the torture. Beatings occurred repeatedly, and humiliation—chained to the lead invader’s chair and displayed as a trophy.” The information kept flowing. “The mutation is permanent and irreversible. According to her psych profiles, she’s not suicidal anymore, but she’s spent the last three years trying to overcome her trauma enough to interact normally with males of any humanoid species. She lost a close friend during the final battle when the Terran forces arrived, the cadet Lieutenant Katzer. The guy was an ace pilot. He died opening up a clear line of attack for the rescue forces. The reports said she wouldn’t talk for days to anybody but Captain Devron Rishkillian, a merc captain the cadets rescued from the brig during the alien occupation.” The next words cut deeper, made him bleed guilt. “You’re the first man she’s allowed to touch her since the incident.”

“Can’t be.”
Fuck.
He’d been more than a shit. There weren’t words for it.

Boggle’s voice turned bitter, continuing over the denial. “When it ended, the Academy wanted to study her, make her a lab specimen. Did you know she was a biology major? Devron Rishkillian gave her a position on his ship and had enough clout to get assigned as her handler. He’s got connections so high and deep in the service, I haven’t been able to hack it…yet. Almost all of the data available on the virus is through her research, done in between missions on his ship. She’s brilliant. She’s overcome all of it and built a life for herself. Ready to take the next step.”

Rygard wouldn’t kiss and tell. Kaitlyn had taken the next step, and a running jump. And he’d hurt her because he’d thought she was merely another butterfly.

“Read her files,” Boggle finished. “I’ve got intel to gather.”

“Why do you do this stuff for her?” Rygard asked, wanting to find solid ground to stand on again.

A hand reached out for a beaker of coffee, another noisy gulp. “Look at her cadet files. Back then, Kaitlyn existed as a bright, vivacious girl—beautiful, larger than life. Since then, she’s become deadly attractive.” His voice became breathless. “The data never lies. It’s there if you know how to see it, in her history and psych profiles. She has an integrity you don’t find in people anymore, not real ones. Once she makes you one of hers, she’ll do anything for you.” A pause, more tapping at the terminal. “When she met me yesterday, she didn’t let the surface stop her from taking a chance…shaking my hand.”

Looking at the obesity, the sloppy habits, and gamer stats on comp tablets stacked in the corners, Rygard would have left. But he could guess what friendship meant to the man. Still, it couldn’t only be the data.

“You’re about the same age.” Rygard watched Boggle closely, saw the clammy skin pale further. “You were there too. You knew her.”

Boggle shook his head, licking his lips. “I was in the same school, not a cadet. When the attack happened, her group led us all into hiding in the BioDome. She dove into the thick of it. All I did was hide until help came.”

And so he helped her now.

“And you’re obviously one of hers.” Boggle jerked his head at Rygard, his multilayered chin jiggling. “Look at what she’s doing for you.”

“She knows this is temporary. It can’t go anywhere.” Even to him it sounded cheesy. Way to bat with no balls.

A wave of dismissal answered him. “Doesn’t matter. Once you’re one of hers, she’ll move planets for you. The data doesn’t lie. Whatever is between you two now, no matter how short-lived, when she gives friendship, it’s forever.”

 

“For the record, I am not happy.”

She answered with a low growl, butting her head against his thigh. Then she turned, powerful muscles bunching under sleek fur before launching herself onto the hovering grav platform. Her tail lashed from side to side, betraying nerves, before she touched the controls with a single claw and yanked her paw back quickly. The containment field rose up, enclosing her on the platform.

She did it for him, putting herself at risk and facing captivity again. She’d stepped back into a cage and locked herself into her nightmare. And all without actually speaking to him about what it meant to her.

“The only reason I’m playing along with this is because I can’t think of a better plan.” Of course, the plan she’d come up with bordered on the ridiculous. Success relied completely on several things furry. Rygard would take solid weaponry and standard tactics any other day.

He put his hands on the steering grips and started through the maze of corridors, headed for the holding areas Boggle had located for them. It was in a different portion of the station, on lower levels where the poverty and squalor coated every surface. Rygard kept his weapons obvious and close at hand to discourage the silhouettes lingering in shadowed alcoves and doorways.

Her plan turned out to be elegant and simple. As a soldier, he knew it had the best chance of success. And beyond saving his own ass, he needed to do this to make things right.

They traveled together in silence. The sounds of his boots echoing in the corridors as he deliberately made his presence known. He knew they were close when Kaitlyn started pacing. A few more steps and even he could smell the stench, hear the strange cacophony of animal calls mingled with human misery.

“What’s this?” The guard on duty looked rough around the edges, bleary-eyed and slurring. His uniform hung on his frame sloppily, stained and thrown on like an afterthought. One hand buried in the tangled hair of a slave at his feet, her eyes dull and her lips wet.

Rygard could take the bastard if things went south. Hell, he wanted to bash the other man’s face in now. Reining in his temper, he gave a simple answer. “Last-minute entry for the auction.”

The guard’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Thought all of the shipments were in.”

Rygard tensed when the man kicked the slave girl to one side and reached for a comp tablet, typing with clumsy fingers. Glyphs and images flashed across the screen in a sluggish progression. Finally, the listing came up for the panther. Boggle had done his thing.

“It’s late.” The guard checked the listing as received.

Rygard shrugged, not relaxed but not ready to take out the guard and go to plan B either.

“I’ll take it in.” The guard reached for the platform and Kaitlyn turned, letting loose a bloodcurdling scream. Her lips drew back to reveal an impressive set of teeth accented by a pair of fangs capable of ripping into a man and doing serious damage. Despite the containment field, the man backed away. Pale and wide-eyed, he waved Rygard in, calling out, “Felines are toward the left back corner. Park it and get back out here.”

BOOK: Hunting Kat
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