A Lion’s Mate by Eve Langlais

Chapter Seven

Zach did not warn his dad that he was coming. Time enough, once he arrived, to deal with the old curmudgeon and his complaints. The biggest one being: Why get a pet if you’re not going to take care of it?

A few times a year, Zach accepted jobs for the Pride that took him away. Yet when he told his dad that he planned to kennel Neffi—the best kitty in the whole damned world—in the nicest place money could rent, his father lost his shit. “Wasting good money. Might as well flush it. What is wrong with you? I’ll take care of it since you can’t.”

Given he’d had to leave Neffi for a few weeks at this point, he could just imagine the upcoming lecture.

“Worried?” Fluffy queried, her expression losing its childlike innocence the more she got away from the cave. She sat beside him in the car he’d borrowed. AKA stole. When he no longer needed it, he’d set it on fire. The Pride would ensure that the owner was completely covered by the insurance company with no rise in premiums.

“Yeah, I’m worried.” But not for the reason she likely thought. What would his father say when he showed up with a yeti? What would he say? There also existed the possibility that they might be followed. “Those kidnappers came after us pretty brazenly.” Would they attack his father’s place? Was it even a good idea to go there? He could practically hear his dad barking, “You think I can’t protect myself, boy?”

“Should have let me eat them.” She pouted.

“Are you hungry?” He answered his own question. “Of course, you are. We were drugged, who knows how long ago. With lots of shifting in between.” He felt the lack of calories rather intently, too. Another reason to hit his dad’s place. Food.

He dug into the console one-handed and found a half-eaten chocolate bar. Who did that? Who took a bite or two and then basically tossed it away? In his house, growing up, they didn’t waste. Back then, the Pride wasn’t as rich, so families made do with what they had.

“It’s partially eaten,” he apologized, showing it to her.

Fluffy, not being picky, made it disappear, wrapper and all.

He parked a few blocks away and marked the location. Once he got to his dad’s, he’d make a few calls. Could be, instead of torching it, the Pride might choose to take the car joyriding before ditching it somewhere, muddying where it had been.

Getting out of the vehicle, Fluffy followed without being asked, more and more cognizant. He began to wonder how old she was when she got trapped. She certainly didn’t act like a child. Would someone develop normally without interaction?

She kept pace and didn’t say a word, her gaze instead tracking all around, taking note of the bungalows lining both sides of the street, what some called the post-war homes. Single-family houses erected in tidy rows, creating some of the first suburbias that now, fifty to seventy years later, had turned into a dense city as it grew.

The sidewalk bordered the front yard, a patch he’d mowed growing up with many weeds that shrank as the tree in the front yard grew. Nothing left to mow now. His dad opted for that horrid pebble shit that replaced grass for a maintenance-free space, and the tree was gone. Only a stump remained.

As they went up the short flight of stairs, Fluffy glanced toward the bay window, the blinds not fully closed. She pointed. “Is that a cat?”

A peek inside showed his Neffi—his precious baby—perched on his dad’s lap, head pushing into his hand, getting a good rub.

Zach almost slapped himself. It couldn’t be true. Except, it was. His cat cheated on him!

Rather than knock and wait for his dad to bellow, he stormed into the house. “Traitors!”

By the time Zach stalked into the living room, his dad sat in his plaid recliner alone, face set in a scowl. “Should have known it was you barging in. Never did manage to take the barn cat out of you. Where’s your manners, boy?”

“Don’t you dare play innocent. I saw you!” He jabbed a finger at his dad and then Neffi on the opposite side of the room, staring at the wall.

“Saw what?” sniped his father from his chair.

“Drop the act. I know you and my cat have been conspiring against me,” Zach accused. His cat had yet to acknowledge his arrival.

“Did you drink too many of those protein shakes? Because you’re speaking nonsense,” his father blustered.

“Don’t deny it. You like my cat.” And the most betraying part, his cat seemed to like his dad, too.

His father sliced a hand through the air. “Do not! Disgusting, mangy, filthy thing. As if. I’d prefer a dog over that feline.” His father glared. Neffi licked her ass because she cared so much.

“Lies. I am surrounded by lies,” Zach exclaimed. “I should leave you both now to each other.”

“Want me to kill him?” The soft query had him whirling to see Fluffy eyeballing his dad.

“No killing my father.”

“Your father.” She perused him. “I see where you get your face.”

Wait, what? Was that a good thing? A bad thing? He couldn’t tell.

“You brought a woman?” His dad sounded so surprised.

With reason. Zach didn’t bring girls over. Actually, he only ever visited with his cat. “This is Fluffy. The Pride wants me to keep an eye on her.”

“The Pride left this delicate little thing with a brute like you?” His father, the charmer, stood. A big man, he’d only gotten bigger after the accident left him with a bum leg. “Come in, er…did you say Fluffy?”

“Yup. Fluffs, this is my dad, Joseph Lennox.”

“Call me Joe,” his father rumbled, grabbing her hand and squeezing it. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Hi.” She stared at their locked hands. “I’m Fluffy.”

“Forgive my presumption, sweet lady, but do you mind me asking what you are? I’ve never smelled the like. You remind me of the mountains in the winter.”

An apt description. “Fluffy is a yeti.”

“Er, what?” His dad’s startled gaze bobbed between them.

“You heard me. According to Nora, she’s a Russian yeti.”

“There is no such thing,” his dad proclaimed.

“Guess again. I found her in the Russian Arctic.”

“And smuggled her home?” His dad added an incredulous note.

“We were kidnapped,” Fluffy chirped.

“By who? The tiger mob?” Dad’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“Humans.” Fluffy just kept helping.

His father laughed. And laughed.

“Not funny,” Zach grumbled. “There’s a seriously bad group after Fluffy. Coming here probably put you in danger. We shouldn’t have come. Let’s go, Fluffs.” He turned to her, and his dad predictably blustered.

“You ain’t going anywhere.”

“I’m serious about the danger.”

“You saying I can’t handle myself?” His father squinted at him.

He knew his dad could handle himself; it’s why he’d come. “I don’t know, old man. Looks like you’ve been hitting the beer more than the gym.”

“I’ll have you know it’s solid.” His father thumped his gut.

As if on cue, Fluff’s tummy grumbled.

It drew Dad’s attention. “When was the last time this idiot fed you? Never mind. You come with me, baby girl, and we’ll get you all set up.” Joe hobbled into the kitchen, and Zach knew better than to offer to do any of the cooking. After the accident, his father took offense easily to anything he thought was someone pitying him. It made him extra determined to do everything without help.

Zach would argue more, but the man made a mean grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Basic? Not in his dad’s kitchen, given the tomato juice was fresh-pressed and then brought to a quick boil with some fragrant herbs. Sprinkled with mozzarella and served with thick slabs of bread—homemade—buttered and toasted golden with a thick chunk of hard cheddar between the slices. Joe might have retired from the cooking industry, a chef for more than forty years, but he’d not lost any of his skill.

Fluffy started out the meal by shoving a whole quarter of the sandwich into her mouth and grabbing the bowl, lifting it to her lips. Zach just took a bite from his meal and stared at her.

Then he deliberately grabbed a spoon, ate his soup, and sopped his sandwich in it. The bowl went back down, and a determined Fluffy, attempting to mimic, proceeded to make a mess. But she kept trying, while Joe gaped.

Zach ate a single serving and left the rest to her. His dad angled his head, a subtle nudge.

Zach left his stool and went to the pantry, pretending to look for something. His dad closed the door and loudly whispered, “Where did you say you found her?”

“In a cave in the Arctic. I think she’d been living there a while.”

“Doing what?”

The artifact part of his mission was secret, even from his dad. Zach shrugged. “Dunno. My job is to keep an eye on her.”

“You said people are after her?”

“Yeah. And they don’t mess around.” The human mercenaries had shown access to resources.

“You need a shower,” his dad said, wrinkling his nose.

“We both do.” Entering the kitchen again, he caught Fluffs licking the bowl. On the plus side, she didn’t appear to be wearing much of it.

She slammed it down and pretended she wasn’t eyeing his with the little bit left at the bottom.

“I better make more food,” his dad suggested.

“More?” Her expression brightened.

“Yes, more, but only after you bathe. Let’s go, Fluffs.” He took her down the short hall to the only full bathroom in the house. Pink tile with a bit of white and black. Gold accents. So old, it came back as retro-style.

She saw the toilet and immediately perched on it, forgetting that not only was he in the room, she was also wearing pants. She glanced down at the wet fabric and scrunched her nose.

“You need to pull them down before you sit and go.”

“Sit? How will I see the biters coming?” She stared suspiciously at the toilet water.

“Nothing is going to come out of the pipe.”

“Wet.” Her nose wrinkled as she hopped off the toilet and shoved down the pants. The shirt covered her groin, but still left lots of exposed leg.

He turned his gaze. “You need a shower.” He leaned into the shower tub combo and flipped on the water. It emerged in a jet, and she ooohed.

“Water.” She reached for it and said, “So warm!”

Actually, it was still chilly, but compared to what she was used to…

She hopped in—still wearing her shirt—put her face right into the spray, and sighed. Then squeaked.

“Hot!” She plastered against the back wall, and he wondered at her reaction until he thought of the volcano.

“Did you sometimes get really hot geysers?”

She nodded. “Bad burns.”

“This won’t burn you. See?” He put his hand in it. Slowly, she reached for it, too. Smiled.

When she began pulling at her shirt, he knew it was time to go. “Here’s some soap. And there’s a towel on the counter.” He’d pulled one from the shelf.

Despite his inner lion saying he should offer to scrub her back, he left, closing the door behind him.

Sitting in the middle of the hall was his cat.

“Hey, baby. I’m home.” He crouched.

Neffi stared.

“Did you miss me?”

Judging by her glare, not even for a second.

“I ordered you some treats.”

Rather than appeasing his feline, she glanced at the bathroom door where he could hear splashing and humming.

Neffi uttered a low growl then stalked off, hackles raised.

Jealous. Good. Now, Neffi would know how Zach felt after seeing her with his dad.

He returned to the kitchen. With Fluffs taken care of for the moment, he had time to check in. He borrowed his dad’s phone, a cordless digital, and only because they’d phased out rotary. His dad had ranted for months when they made him change out his lime green curly-corded monstrosity. Even the fact that Zach had bought the phone didn’t appease.

The voice that picked up his direct line wasn’t Hayder’s. Nor did it waste time.

“Who is this?”

“Zachary Lennox.”

“The same Zachary Lennox who was incommunicado for fifty-five hours?”

He winced. He now knew how long he’d been out for. “I ran into some complications.”

“Do you still have the subject?”

“I’m supposed to report to Hayder.”

“Hayder is attending the birth of yet another useless boy.”

“And you are?”

“Not a biatch you want to piss off,” said the biatch. “Has the yeti told you anything yet about the treasure?”

That explained whether or not the lioness on the other end of the line was in the loop.

“Not really. Her communication skills have been somewhat lacking, not to mention our kidnapping had us knocked out.”

“What kidnapping?” He related what’d happened to them and made arrangements for the stolen car to be handled.

“I’ll have to let the king know about this.”

“Obviously.” The kidnappers had to be dealt with.

“Wait until the other biatches hear. We’ve been bored to death. This will give us something to sharpen our claws for. I’ve got biatches en route to the airport. Hopefully, we can get our hands on that plane and cage before they sterilize it.”

Only the biatches could be excited about animal smugglers who might know their secret.

“Could be they aren’t related to the artifact at all.”

“Maybe. I mean, I can see why they might want to capture a yeti, though. Either way, someone thinks she’s important. Which leads me back to the earlier question. Does she know where it is?”

He thought of Fluffy’s random pointing. “She says she can lead me to the box. She definitely wants to find it. She claims to be a guardian of some sort.”

“Follow her lead and see if she can locate it.”

“Me?” Working alone with Fluffs?

“Yeah, you. We don’t have anyone else to spare right now. Or are you trying to tell me your feeble man brain can’t handle a job of this magnitude?”

“I’ll handle it.”

“Good, because I need to be pulling out the old latex suit, not yapping with you.”

With that, the biatch on duty hung up, leaving him saddled for who knew how long with Fluffs.

Forever?his inner feline taunted. He might have had a retort if his dad hadn’t said, “Why are there bubbles coming from under the bathroom door?”