Lion And The Falcon (Furry United Coalition) (7 page)

“I’ll say, and I thought the plan was to fall in his arms.”

“I panicked. I didn’t want to smash my face on the pavement.”

“You’re a cat,” snorted her friend with disgust. “We land on our feet.”

“Not always,” grumbled
Betty.

“Now how are we supposed to get him back to our place?”

“Stuff him in the trunk?”

“Oh
yeah, because nothing screams, ‘Hey baby, wanna screw?’ like being locked in a confined space.”

Clarice
, listening to this, became more and more confused, but not worried. The idiot pair had yet to notice her skulking closer, and from their conversation, it was clear while their intentions weren’t entirely aboveboard, neither did they seem homicidal.

“Fine.
Forget the trunk. We’ll stick him in the backseat.”

“And if he wakes up? I don’t want to be driving around with a pissed off lion in the back.”

Planting her hands on her hips, the chubby one with a fear of hurting her face snapped. “I’m open to your brilliant idea then. Oh, that’s right, you don’t have one.”

“It was my idea to waylay him after work.”

“And that’s worked out sooooo well,” Betty drawled.

“Not my fault someone won’t leave the donuts alone.”

“It’s genetic.”

“Says the girl with a pantry full of sugar.”

Betty stuck out her tongue and Susan shook her head. “We don’t have time for this. We really should get him out of here before someone comes along. Give me a hand.” Susan heaved open the Audi’s rear passenger door before bending down to grab Nolan’s enormous loafer-covered feet.

“
I’ll help, but don’t think I’m forgetting you called me fat,” Betty replied with a scowl. She grabbed the feline’s other end and heaved.

Having heard enough, Clarice strode forward, gun still pointed. “Halt in the name of FUC and ASS.”

“What?” Susan dropped his feet with a
thunk
.

“I think she said fuck him up the ass,” whispered the chubby one
, her eyes riveted on Clarice, or more accurately, the gun.

Stupid agency acronyms, they couldn’t come up with something cool like the humans
’ FBI or CIA? “Put the lion down,” yelled Clarice.

“This is none of your business. Just walk away.”

“Says the stupid one to the lady with the gun.” Clarice shook her head. “Okay, you idiots, I’m going to say this slow since it’s obvious years of bleaching and cosmetics have burnt what common sense and intelligence you both were born with. Put the lion down. He’s not going with you. He needs to come with me.”

“We found him first
,” Susan said with a stubborn tilt of her hips.

“Yeah, finders keepers
,” Betty added.

Clarice pulled back the hammer and aimed. “I’ve had a trying day, bitches. The kind of day where I’d prefer to shoot, dump your bodies
, and pretend I never saw you so I can get to where I need to be. Who wants to die first?”

“Die?
Over a lion.” Down thumped Nolan’s head as Betty let go of her prize. “This is getting way too dramatic, even for me.”

“
Ah, come on, Betty. The chick is bluffing.”

“Am I?” Clarice cocked her head.

“Yeah, I think you are.” Susan grabbed his feet and hoisted them again. “Besides, we more or less have permission.”

“To kidnap?”

“His mother promised a place in her pride to whoever could seduce her son and produce her first grand cub. She didn’t say he had to be willing. Grab him, Betty.” Gnawing her lower lip, the friend did as told and they toted the doctor a few feet.

The explanation just about rendered
Clarice cross-eyed as she tried to follow the illogic. She gave up and fired a shot, the cracking sound loud in the cavernous parking lot.

Susan squeaked. “Are you crazy?”

“Crazier than a loon. Now drop the lion.”

“Have it your way.” Susan let go.

“To think I shaved my legs for him.” Betty dropped her end and Nolan’s head hit the pavement for the third time that evening with a thump.

With a disdainful sniff, the incompetent kidnapping duo stalked off, high heels clacking, and in the chubby one’s case
, wobbling.

Clarice sighed as she tucked her gun away. What had she just gotten involved in? Some kind of family politics from the sound of it.
Not her problem. She had more pressing concerns such as getting to the crime scene, but first she needed to haul an unconscious male lion, who weighed way more than his appearance indicated, into the cramped back seat of his Audi. Unlike the two felines, she didn’t fear him waking up any time soon, not with his triple concussion, but just in case, she used his silk tie to bind his hands. Then she hopped behind the wheel of sinful speed only to realize she’d forgotten to search him for keys. Sprawled lengthwise across the back seat, she had to frisk his lean length, scrounging in his pockets, feeling muscled thighs before she located his fob. If she inadvertently groped another part of his anatomy that even at rest proved the old adage big hands, big feet…then it was entirely accidental. Really, it was.

She started the car
. The turbo-charged, direct-injected, two-hundred-eleven horsepower engine started with a sweet rumble. Clarice just about pulled a chicken, or in fowl terms, almost laid an egg in excitement. Now here was a purr she could learn to love. Windows down, music blasting, and hand on the shifter, she flew on wings of rubber.

Whee!

*

Nolan woke to a throbbing in his head
, which didn’t improve when the bed he snoozed upon suddenly swerved and he rolled into a tight space. His face smashed against smooth leather.

What the hell?

Struggling to roll back, he rested his bound hands on his stomach and blinked through blond lashes at the roof of his car.
How did I get here?
Last thing he remembered, a sack of bricks dropped on him a moment before he smelled tiger. But it sure wasn’t a tigress who currently drove his car or whose scent lingered all over him.

Nope
, that belonged to the woman with the straight black hair, the one who perturbed him, and whom if scent could be believed, groped his poor, defenseless body. Just what happened while he lay unconscious? And why did his head hurt so much? Only one way to find out. “This might be a stupid question, but why are you driving my car?”

“
Awake finally, Sylvester? About time. Nap often on the pavement?”

“Only when attacked.”

“By women.” Clarice sounded amused. “You know, for a lion, you’re not all that impressive.”

“Says the woman who has yet to see me without my pants.”

She coughed. “And intends to keep it that way. And what does penis size have to do with letting a woman get the drop on you?”

“You would have preferred I beat the wom
an up?”

“No. But you didn’t even know
she or her friend were there. If I hadn’t come along, you’d have woken up tied to a bed somewhere as some kind of sex slave.”

“Yeah. I wish they’d stop doing that.”

The car swerved for a moment when Clarice swiveled her head to shoot him a shocked look. “You mean it’s happened before?”

“More often that I’d like to admit.”

Through the rear view mirror, he could see her gnawing her lower lip as she struggled not to ask. Turned out they had more in common than originally imagined because just like a cat, she lost the battle to curiosity. “I probably don’t want to ask this, but why?”

“Could it wait until you’ve unbound my hands and let me out of the back seat
? This isn’t the most comfortable place.” The backseats of Audi A4s were built for purses and really small people, not six-foot-plus male lions. “Which reminds me, why am I tied up?”

“
I wasn’t sure what kind of mood to expect when you woke up. I took precautions. I prefer to keep my head on my shoulders, thank you very much.”

“
I thought you didn’t fear me?”

“Yeah, well, even the gentlest of kittens has claws
, and I like my hair this length.”

“I prefer to confine my scratching to the bedroom and be the cause
, not the source.”

“Too much info. And I guess given you’re back to flirting
, that answers my question of ‘are you alright?’ ”

“
Actually, other than a bit of a headache, I feel pretty good. I needed a siesta.”

“You’re now making me wish I’d left you on the ground.”

“I’m sorry, did I forget to say thank you for rescuing me and putting me to bed? Or should you thank me because if I weren’t here then that would mean you’re stealing my car instead of chauffeuring me in it while I napped?”

Clarice snorted. “Only you
, Sylvester, would call a concussion a nap.”

“My name is Nolan, chicken hawk.”

“I’m a falcon.”

“Oops. Did I mention I’m also bad with names
?” He tossed her a benign smile when she scowled. Two could play at her game. “So, where are we going?”

“Crime scene.”

“Ah yes. Poor Agnes.” His enjoyment at her discomfiture evaporated at the reminder.

“You knew her?”

“Yes. A lovely woman. I’m going to miss her. But I have to ask, why are we going together? Didn’t you have a motorcycle? Don’t tell me you left it behind.”

“Not exactly.
I seem to have temporarily misplaced it.”

Laughter barked forth
from him at her expense. “You went to the Hungry Heifer, didn’t you?”

“How does everyone know that?”

“Because they’re notorious for looking like a biker joint.”

“Maybe because it has
motorcycles parked across the front.”

“Ah, but those are gang member bikes. And you are not a member.”

“So I learned.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get the bike back.”

“And exactly how will you do that, doc? I can’t exactly picture you facing a motorcycle gang down.”

“I have my sources,” he replied enigmatically.
“Now, do you mind stopping for a moment and untying my hands?”

“Stop? I’m kind of in a hurry and we’re almost there.
”

The
wicked bird. She meant to have him show up at the crime scene with his hands tied. Unacceptable. Nolan would never live it down, especially if Mason lurked. Damned bear had a way of always managing to pop up during a man’s most embarrassing moments, then never letting anyone forget it. He also tended to take pictures.

Eyeing the knot,
Nolan decided it would take too much effort to gnaw, so with a shrug, he flexed and pulled, tearing the silken tie, trying not to think of how much the darned thing cost. Hands free, he sat up and lounged in the back, the image of insouciance, an expression he suspected drove his avian chauffeur crazy judging by the scowl she shot him through the rear view mirror.

“Much better,” he said.
“Next time you tie me up, though, you should really try something a little tougher, say like handcuffs or nylon rope. I’ve got some if you need to borrow them.”

“There won’t be a next time.”

“You say that now, but wait until you see the four posters on my bed.”

“Let’s get on
e thing straight, cat. I will never see the inside of your bedroom. You and I will never have sex. Flirting with me is a waste of precious oxygen.”

“So you keep intimating, but our friendship is still young. I may grow on you.”

“Like fungus? Doubtful. There’re creams for that.”

“
Why are you so determined to dislike me?” Because despite himself, he found it harder and harder to muster the same feeling for her. Insults aside, she fascinated him. She didn’t fall at his feet batting her lashes, yet he could smell her interest, see how her eyes tracked his every motion. She denied her attraction to him. How novel…and challenging.

“I don’t dislike you.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, maybe a little. But if it’s any consolation, I hate all felines on principle. It’s how I was raised.”

“I can understand an instinctual hatred of the uninformed of my species, those who haven’t achieved sentience like a shifter. But to despise an entire species just because, doesn’t that seem a tad unfair?”

“Cats eat birds. Or are you going to tell me you stick only to red meat that runs around on four legs
?”

A sheepish shrug went with the lilt of his lips. “
Touché. I’ll grant you that I am not a saint when it comes to my meat dishes, but I’ll have you know, not I or anyone in my family has ever eaten an avian shifter. We do have some lines we won’t cross.”

“Good to know.”

“Although, if you’d be interested in a mutually pleasurable eating of certain body parts, I wouldn’t be averse.” Whoa, that was forward even for him.