Page 55 of Handcuffed to the Bear

Of course not. Wendy had been a very straightforward, honest person. It was part of her charm. She wouldn’t have been able to understand why anyone wanted to kill her. She’d probably have tried to make friends with them, talk them out of it?—

Casey’s hands balled into fists so tight that her nails bit into her palms.

“Not like me, huh?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“Not at all like you. How interesting that you two knew each other. She was quite intelligent, but not clever at all. A total disappointment. She barely lasted the first few hours?—”

Casey shifted to the lynx, springing as she went.

She almost succeeded, almost tore into his unprotected human belly and throat. They were so close together that he didn’t have time to dodge and barely had time to react. He shifted just as she hit him, and her claws bit deep into the golden fur, scoring his face and ripping across his shoulder.

Got you!

They rolled and came up facing each other. Roger seemed utterly shocked. Other than the marks she’d just made, there were no scars on his glossy hide. He probably didn’t fight until the end, letting his brothers and sisters wear down the pride’s chosen prey before he moved in for the kill. Casey wondered if any of their victims had ever hurt him before.

Then he opened his jaws and roared.

At this close range, the sound was deafening.

Another roar went up instantly, very nearby. Roger roared again. The entire world seemed to be a wall of solid noise.

Casey ran.

She’d been right about the woods and the relative size of her pursuers. She darted between close-standing tree trunks, ghosted through brambles, slid with feline agility under fallen cedars. Behind her, Roger crashed through the brush like an elephant. He couldn’t keep up, and fell steadily behind.

But lynx were not distance runners. She wasn’t sure how long she could maintain this speed.

She also hadn’t realized how hard it would be to backtrail herself while running flat-out for her life. There was no opportunity to check for her own scent or look for the flattened grass of her passing. She just had to hope if she kept going uphill, Jack would be able to find her.

Another lion loomed suddenly in front of her, jaws open, snarling. This was a male, the same one they’d fought at the cabin; she could tell because the side of his face was lumpy with wasp stings. One of his eyes was swollen shut.

Vicious satisfaction filled her.I hope it hurt, asshole.

He swung for her with a big paw. She veered aside, thinking of little now except getting away. The trees ended and she found herself in the edge of the stump field. There was no cover and the Fallons were right behind her.

Could she make the boat from here? No, the open ground favored the lions, with their long legs. But she couldn’t double back; she’d lose her lead.

Instead, she streaked toward the cabins. The lynx had one other advantage over bigger predators: it could fit into spaces they could not. She wished she’d thought of it sooner. She might have been able to scope out a place to hide. Now she aimed for the camp in the hope that something would present itself.

To her gratified surprise, something did: the cabin roofs. They were low, with a shallow pitch. She couldn’t jump all the way from the ground to the roof, but she leaped onto a propane tank behind the cabin on the end, and from there to the roof of the woodshed, and on up to the cabin’s tin roof.

Her claws scraped uncomfortably on the metal, but she was able to avoid sliding off as long as she didn’t stop. She scrambled all the way to the top and crouched on the peak of the roof, ears flat and stubby tail twitching.

She didn’t think the lions could replicate her feat. They were too big and heavy.

The two male lions loped up to the cabin and circled around it, looking up at her, annoyed and confused. Roger shifted first. The one with the wasp-stung face, who had to be Rory, stayed in lion form and paced back and forth, rumbling a low growl.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Roger said, gazing up at Casey with his arms crossed. “I wondered if it was just the fed’s influence, but no, it’s you, too. You’re good at this. I had no idea you’d bethisgood. Heck, maybe you’re the brains of the pair.”

Casey hissed at him.

Roger smiled. This time, it was a cold mockery of the friendly salesman’s grin he’d worn earlier. Blood trickled down the side of his face where she’d marked him with her claws.

“Sure I can’t convince you to take my offer? Okay, I admit, I was stretching the truth a bit earlier. I didn’t bring you out here with the intention of vetting you for anything. But I meant it when I said we’d hire you.” He raised a hand, wiped casually at the blood on his cheek, then glanced down at his red-stained fingers. “I think someone with your skills would be a marvelous asset to the pride. Notpartof the pride, of course, but a very useful assistant.”

As if!Casey hissed again, hoping her body language said it all. If she could flip him off with cat paws, she’d be doing with all four feet.

“Oh, Roger,dostop toying with the prey,” a woman’s voice said.

---