Page 90 of The Tracker's Revenge
Blaze chose that moment to step away from the shadows of a nearby tree, where he’d disappeared for a bit to, most likely, do his business. He leaped onto the hood of the car. I cringed, afraid he would scratch the paint job, but he landed smoothly. He sat and stared haughtily at Eric, who made eye contact and scanned him carefully, assessing him as if he were a person.
“See,” Jake said. “I told you he’s weird.”
Slowly, Eric bent at the waist, leaning forward until he was eye to eye with Blaze. He stayed like that for a long moment, nose twitching, hands clasped at his back. Finally, he straightened, making a sound of agreement in the back of his throat.
“What?” I said.
Eric shrugged. “Nothing. He’s a fine cat. C’mon, let’s go inside.”
“A fine cat?” Jake murmured under his breath, looking annoyed with Eric’s assessment.
I stuck my tongue out at him. He pulled a face in response. Huffing, he pointed two fingers at his eyes then at Blaze.
“I’m watching you.”
The cat seemed to roll his eyes, but cats didn’t do that, did they?
As I got going, Blaze padded at my side and entered the cabin. The place was a decent size with a kitchenette, a table for four, and an adjacent sitting area with a sofa, coffee table, armchair, rocker, and a weaved rug to define the space. A stone fireplace sat in one corner, its entrails dark and in need of the warm glow of a fire. It would’ve made the place look far cozier, more than the lamps that illuminated the space.
Beyond this area, there were three doors which I assumed led to the bedrooms.
Blaze immediately hopped on one of the armchairs and made himself comfortable, curling up into a tight donut shape. As promised, Jake watched his every move.
“Get a grip. You’re scared of a cat,” I said.
“I’m not scared. I just don’t trust him.”
“I grabbed a few things from a convenience store on the way here,” Eric said from the small kitchen, taking items out of large paper bags.
A few cans of chili, a large packet of hot dogs, mustard, ketchup, chips, soft drinks, and bread. So very thoughtful. Who would’ve thought? Jake seemed surprised too, judging by the raised eyebrow he gave him.
“Chili dogs!” Rosalina exclaimed, clapping her hands. “I’m so hungry.”
Together, Eric and Rosalina pulled out plates and utensils from the cabinets and got a small microwave going, heating the hot dogs and chili.
“What about your cat, Toni? Do you think he’ll eat hot dogs?”
I shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I’ll cut one up and see.”
Blaze didn’t only eat the hot dog, he also ate a couple of potato chips that Rosalina set on his plate. We all watched him with interest as we devoured our own food.
“I worry he might get sick,” I said. “But he never ate any of his cat food so eagerly.”
“Maybe he’s possessed,” Jake suggested. “You know that can happen. To cats, especially.”
“He’s not possessed,” I protested. “Your ass is possessed.”
Jake wiggled on his chair as if to test the feel of his backside. “Hmm, no. My ass feels normal.”
“Is it always like this?” Eric addressed his question toward Rosalina.
“Most of the time,” she said.
Eric grunted. “Then we’d better come up with a plan quickly, so we can get out of here. Otherwise, I doubt we’ll survive within such close quarters.”
I ignored his jab and chose to discuss said plan. “Okay, before we leave, I’ll need to do a tracking trance for at least one of our clients. We picked up what we needed on the way here.”
Eric frowned. “Is that necessary?”
