Heat crept to my cheeks, leaving me a little light-headed “Your books don't know everything,” I said, the edge of a growl in my voice. “Now shut up. You're distracting me.” But she wasn't entirely wrong ... it might be worth trying.
I put my hands on either side of Bobby's face, avoiding the blood trailing down his neck. It took me a second to remember how—it'd been years since I'd tried in human form—but slowly, a low purr rumbled up out of my chest. I moved closer until I could cradle Bobby's head. After a moment, muscles in his face began to twitch.
Sex or food ... not entirely inaccurate. Purring in human form was an intimate act, typically reserved for comforting mates or children. I cursed myself for resorting to it, since Bobby was mated to someone else, but it was working. Bobby's fingers twitched at his sides as he took a deep breath.
Come on, wake up.
Still not fully conscious, Bobby's body jerked away from me.
Crap, I'd forgotten I didn't smell like myself. Or, perhaps he'd expected Lynn, his mate. I didn't let that thought stay with me long, but glanced over my shoulder at Nathanial. He was watching me with unabashed interest. I so didn't want to ask his help. Bobby struggled against my arms again, still not conscious enough to shift.
Swallowing the sour taste in my mouth, I motioned Nathanial closer. “Earlier Bobby told me you smell the way I usually do."
Nathanial waited, either not understanding my unasked request or wanting me to voice it.
Gritting my teeth, I whispered, “If you could touch his face, so he can pick up my ... your scent."
Nathanial nodded and moved closer. I started purring again, and as soon as Nathanial touched him, Bobby calmed. Energy built in him, spilling heat over my arms. By the time his skin slipped, I was standing and pulling Nathanial up with me.
"Wow, reading about it is nothing like seeing it in person,” Gil said, her mouth hanging open.
I frowned at her but said nothing. Bobby's cat form solidified. The scent of fresh blood vanished as his fur sealed around his body, and I breathed easier, both because he'd healed and because the tainted need constricting my chest loosened. Bobby scanned the alley, bewilderment masking his eyes.
I felt for him. Being forced into a shift was disorienting at best, and being unconscious beforehand probably hadn't helped. He stood on four shaky legs, tripping over his first step. He blinked, shaking his head like he could expel the fog in his brain with motion. As he stared, I could almost see memories sliding back in place behind his eyes. Arching his back, his gaze darted around the alley. His green eyes narrowed, and he lunged for Nathanial. I barely caught him by the scruff of the neck.
Bobby's surprised protest was more of a brawny squeak than any sound a muscular bobcat should make. I shook my head and slowly released him. His tufted ears flattened against his head, but he watched stoically as I gathered his discarded clothing.
Picking up the bag Nathanial brought earlier, I dumped out my coat and one shoe—the other shoe had sailed who-knew-where when the bag was thrown—and put Bobby's clothes in it. Task complete, I set the bag beside him and grabbed my coat from the snow. I still wasn't cold, but I should have been. Besides, walking around coatless and barefoot would draw human attention I didn't want.
I shrugged on my coat, shoving my hands in my pockets to ascertain I still had all my belongings. The coat's deep pockets were stuffed with the rolled-up scarf and gloves I'd removed outside the music club plus other odds and ends, like a toothbrush and comb. I had at least most of my stuff. I crammed my foot, clinging snow and all, into my sneaker. My toes squished against the wet sole as I hobbled across the alley looking for the other shoe.
Nathanial found it before I did. He held up the sneaker but pulled it out of reach when I moved to take it. The smile that touched his lips was playful, but I glared at him. Grabbing the shoe, I shoved it on my foot without bothering to tie the laces. The sneakers squeaked as I stomped toward the street. Bobby trailed me, growling.
"Kita,” Nathanial said at the same time Gil yelled, “Wait."
The sound of rain boots clomping in the snow bounced off the alley walls as Gil ran to catch up with me. I whirled around.
Nathanial had moved silently—not surprising—so he was considerably closer than expected, but Gil ground to a stop several feet away, well out of arms’ distance.
I wasn't sure whether to be flattered or irritated. No one had ever been afraid of me before. What does she think I'm going to do?
"You can't leave,” she said, her face flushed. She hadn't run that far, so I guessed it wasn't from exertion.
Who was she to tell me what I could and couldn't do? Actually, for that matter, who was she? It was a valid question, so I repeated it aloud.
She fidgeted with her overlong coat sleeves. “I thought we covered this pretty extensively. I am Gil."
"Got that part. Your name means nothing to me."
"I think,” Nathanial clarified, “Kita is asking, what are you and how do you know so much about us?"
That was what I meant, but I rounded on him anyway. “And why are you still following me?"
"I helped, did I not?” He motioned to Bobby.
"And I kept him from mauling you. I'd say we're equal."
Nathanial didn't act impressed. Of course, Bobby hadn't landed a single hit on him as a man, though Bobby was head-and-shoulders taller than Nathanial. So Bobby probably didn't scare him much as a bobcat. But still...
"Don't underestimate him because bobcats are small,” I said. “I've seen him take down full-grown deer."
Nathanial smiled. “I am not a deer."
Gil cleared her throat. “You asked me a question,” she said, her voice laced with impatience.
I nodded, but now that everyone's attention had turned to her again, she wasn't in any hurry to answer.
She cocked her head to the side, her eyes assessing me. “Are you really Kita of Firth?"
I nodded again, and she waved a hand. A scroll materialized out of thin air. She jotted something down and, hopefully, missed my flinch. The “pulling things out of nowhere” was a nice trick. If I'd had any doubts about what she was, after the whole purple-flashing-light incident, it was crystal clear now—the judge had used the same trick.
The scroll vanished again, and she looked back up. “All right then. I'm a scholar-trainee from Sabin. A couple of days ago my headmaster announced a potential accomplice had been identified in the rogue murders. A shifter who'd made a deal with the judge to find the rogue she created; she would make an excellent study subject. He asked for a volunteer, and I won the assignment.” She smiled brightly, pushing at her frumpy hat. “I'm getting fieldwork credit for this."
"Nice to know my life being destroyed is helping someone out."
"Wait.” Nathanial tapped under his eye with one finger. “The judge left here no more than five minutes before you arrived. How could your headmaster have given you the assignment days ago unless he—and the judge—knew even before the judge approached Kita that he would make a deal with her?"
"Well, it might have only been five minutes here, but who says time has to move the same everywhere?” Gil crossed her arms over her chest.
I sighed. Right. That made as little sense as everything else happening tonight, so why not? I looked out at the street. It promised freedom; if I could just lose my present company. Okay, maybe not complete freedom, since the judge planned to fulfill my death sentence in two days. Of course, he had to find me first.
I turned back and studied Gil. Where the hell was “Sabin” and what exactly was a scholar-trainee? Flaring my nostrils, I searched for a scent betraying her nature. If I ran across any more of these Sabinites, I wanted to be able to identify them before they started using magic on me. The demons had smelled like decay, an easy enough scent to identify, and one I wanted to avoid, but the judge had had no discernible scent, and all I caught from Gil's direction were hints of lavender and vanilla—scents much too common in a world full of perfume and shower gel.
Sighing again, I wondered why I bothered trying to log her scent in my memory. The judge hadn't accidentally run across me on the street. He had appeared out of nowhere.
Nathanial moved closer, his hands sliding over my shoulders as he positioned himself behind me. “You look on the verge of running,” he whispered, drawing me against him.
The movement had the grace of familiarity to it, like it was an everyday occurrence for him to draw me into his arms. Heat from his skin soaked through my coat. I hadn't realized I was cold until he touched me, but now a shiver crawled down my spine. The temptation to wrap myself in his warmth caught me off guard, and quite frankly, pissed me off. My cheeks flushed, and I shrugged him away.
"Don't touch me,” I warned, sidestepping further from him.
Bobby, crouching near my feet, arched his back. His hackles rose. He growled at the vampire.
Unchecked menace slid across Nathanial's face, but disappeared quickly as the neutral expression I'd seen him wear earlier fell into place like a mask. He smiled, tight-lipped, and it didn't come close to reaching his eyes.
"We should get moving,” he said. “There is much to do and very little time."
We? We my ass.
He must have read my thoughts from my face, because he continued, “The judge said ‘you and your friends belong to his justice.’ That means the bobcat here, and, of course, myself, will be thrown to the demons if you do not succeed in tracking the rogue. Did you not think I would assist you?"
"I don't want or need your help."
"Then you are confident you can hunt the rogue on your own?"
"Of course I am.” Not. There wasn't a chance. I wasn't a hunter. I was a runaway, no doubt labeled a hopeless stray by my clan. How would I find an insane human-turned-shifter, and in only two days? Even if I did find him, what was I supposed to do with him? Tie him to a chair and wait for the judge to appear? I kicked at a pile of snow and concentrated on the burrow my shoe made.