Hooked on A Feline: A Paranormal Shifter x Vampire Enemies to Lovers Romance

The Cat Walks A Dangerous Line

After several excruciating hours, I finally wrest free of the gaggle of harpies. I have a massive buzz from the multiple pitchers of martinis it took to get through it, and I’m contemplating a bloody snack to help stave off the irritation that seems to engulf my being.

Before I can head upstairs to change into something suitable for such an outing, my phone trills the theme song to the Addams Family and I’m popped into Taurus-land. My metabolism is high functioning, but he’s going to deal with a slightly tipsy kitty.

That’s what he gets for whisking me away—again—without so much as a by-your-leave.

Obviously, he’s back from his extended overseas assignment—his mission made him incommunicado for a week. He’s sitting on the couch, reading, when I arrive. One would wonder why he popped me here to pretend like he doesn’t know I’m here, but that’s Taurus. I’ve learned not to question his subconscious power plays. It’s a harmless ploy; he’s just a lovable egomaniac. His hands obscure the cover of his book as I approach, and I wonder if he’s trying to hide it from me.

Interesting. I wonder if he reads smutty stuff? I’ll never stop teasing him.

I plop down on the couch, giving him a saucy grin. Between all the alcohol and struggling through making my brilliant plan for Beltane, I’m feeling invincible. A nice shag wouldn’t hurt, though, so hopefully I don’t look too goofy.

“I’m practicing looking aloof for a hoity-toity charity gig for my goddess, if you’re wondering. Some loaded old goat is rumored to be buying imports of the extremely young, male variety. She’s got me on the case.”

Well, shit. That topic isn’t leading to a shag.

I try not to pout as I nod. “Is that why you seem unusually taciturn?”

Since we finally did the deed, his most frequent greeting is to flip me over the back of the couch until we’ve screamed it out, but good. I’m not complaining; hell, I’d applaud if I could stand afterward. I’m a little disappointed that we’re not doing it now.

“I’d rather not talk about it, honestly. It makes me feel as stiff as those gits’ collective shirts—not in the good way.” He gives me a smirk and I grin back, still tipsy enough to be loose and flirty.

I scoot a little closer, hoping that he’s going to opt for flipping me over the couch.

“While I was away, I caught up on your blog. You had a mighty interesting and neurotic talk with Blondie. Given her reluctance to admit any wrongdoing, I don’t blame you for telling her to fuck off. It made sense that you didn’t make that entry public—not that it stopped me.” He stops to preen about his technical prowess, not realizing I’d purposely allowed him access to the juicy stuff. However, as before, this topic will also not lead to naked time.

Fucking Rhea cockblocks me every damned time.

“Yeah, interesting is a word. Frustrating and pointless are also good ones. She glossed over her destructive behavior and acted like everything was fine. I can’t force her to admit her lies, but I also can’t seem to completely ditch her. I had a meeting today about a project I’m working on. It was supposed to include Lily, Sari, and Amanda. Somehow, Rhea got herself on the guest list. Since I need more people, I had to let it be. I’m not happy.”

He frowns. “I saw your mate’s posts, too. You’re more in demand since I came out to play. Takes the term ‘multi-tasker’ to a whole new level—that can’t be easy.”

I give him an impish grin. “If you only knew.”

Shaking his head, he makes a face. “I’m not sure my ego can take it. I’d wonder how often you’re—never mind. I don’t want to know.”

My brows furrow in confusion, and I tilt my head. “I didn’t mean that I’m thinking about other people when I’m with you. You’re a handful, and it would be disrespectful.”

He doesn’t answer, so I roll onto my stomach, propping my face in my hand. The atmosphere is maudlin, and I’m not sure why. He must sense my curiosity, though, because he turns his frown into a wicked grin. Looking pointedly at his crotch, he clears his throat. “A good sight more than a handful if memory serves.”

I giggle, remembering his fractured metaphor. “Indeed. Taurus in your hand, right?”

“You almost got it. A bird in your hand leads to Taurus in the bush.”

“I don’t think Ben Franklin would approve of your co-opting his phrase.” I chuckle, glad to see him behaving more like himself.

“Do we like Taurus in the bush, pet?”

I arch my brow, shocked that the king of ego wants reassurance. Something weird is going on. I don’t know if it’s because he’s read my blog or if the whole ‘multi-tasking’ thing makes him insecure. Does Taurus even get insecure? “Were the loud howling noises do not clear enough?”

Sucking in a breath, he shrugs. “I thought I stepped on your tail. How was I to know?”

I smack him playfully. “My tail wasn’t sticking out and you know it. You want to hear me say that you’re good in bed? I see through you, mister.”

“One ‘hunk of burning clone’ and I’ll leave you in peace, pet.” He smiles innocently and crosses his fingers over his heart.

“Not a chance. It’s never going to happen.” To be honest, I don’t know why I refuse to call him that. It’s not egregious, but it tickles the hell out of me to withhold it. I suppose it’s because people don’t tell Taurus ‘no’.

I enjoy being one of the few who does and gets to live.

Giving me a beleaguered sigh, he eyes my body as I lounge. “You know, one of these days we might make it to bed.”

I wrinkle my nose. Beds are for serious relationships. I may have taken many people to the giant bed at my house, but there was always something more about my relationship with them. I never take the casual ones there. Couches, guest rooms, pools, recliners—those are fine for the folks that are looking to have a one nighter to say they’ve been with me. I know he’s not a one nighter, but I feel like a bed is so… permanent and I know that he’s not.

I can’t tell him that because I’ll sound crazy.

Instead, I scoff. “Wouldn’t that bed be in danger?”

“More so than that poor, abused couch? I think not.”

“I’ve only broken a couch once, and it wasn’t my fault.” That’s mostly true. “But I’ve broken quite a few beds. I’m destructive by nature, like a tornado in a can. Whoosh!” I flail my arms, hoping a little silliness will lighten the mood.

“Yet here I sit in one piece. Interesting.”

Before I can catch myself, I mutter, “Give it time. I destroy everything I touch.” Looking at the floor, I hope the realness of that statement won’t make my eyes fill with tears.

If I’m lucky, he’ll think I’m kidding.

Completely ignoring what I said, he taps my nose. “You know, I was thinking—sod off with the pokes, I think occasionally.”

I play along, grateful for the distraction. Making an angelic face, I bat my lashes. “I would not say a word.”

“You say that, and the tongue doesn’t fall out of your mouth. Amazing.” He shakes his head and shrugs, continuing. “While I was away, I got to thinking. I know little about you. I’d like to know more.”

This day keeps getting weirder and weirder. Idiots this morning, no hello shag, maudlin meanderings… What is going on? Is it opposite day? Did I take the portal back to the wrong ribbon through some twist of quantum physics when I came back from hunting?

Shit. I’d better respond, or he’ll think I’m nuts.

“Luckily for you, I know a lot about that subject. What would you like to know? I can talk until you interject if you don’t have specific questions, but you know that.”

Looking amused, he chuckles. “Are you intimating I have a tendency to interject various tidbits of myself into conversations when they’re unnecessary?”

“No, I’m saying that you’re not too shy to give your opinions when you so choose.”

“I am an opinionated, very well-rounded and tightly compacted ass.”

“None of which is objectionable.” I smirk and give him a wink. “I’m not exactly known for obsequiousness myself.”

Boy, is that an understatement.

I’m as outwardly extroverted as possible, and most of the people in the community—except for Sari—are very introverted. It makes for frustratingly silent meetings and fights, but I’ve learned to work around it. “So besides being the leader in this ‘burg, I’m the shoulder to lean on. Making sure everyone is happy is important to me. I get guilted into things that I shouldn’t because I feel bad if I disappoint people.”

He arches a brow and grins, leaning over to rub a thumb along my jawline. “I caught that already.”

I think for a moment. “Okay, but it happens everywhere. People I don’t even know have always told me about their problems. It’s weird. It means I attract crazies like no other. That explains my family, I guess.”

“That squishy middle is more of an ocean, isn’t it gorgeous?”

I wrinkle my nose and cross my arms over my chest stubbornly. “No, it’s not. It’s small and surrounded by a big freaking fence and a dragon and lots of stuff so no one can get in.” At least, now it is, that’s for sure.

He leans forward, kisses both of my eyelids, then pulls back to kiss my nose. I give him a frustrated look as my tough posture fades. “Your big cheater. You’re trampling all over that tough image of mine.”

“I know you better than your image, Sandwich.”

I sigh dramatically, trying to diffuse the emotion of the situation. This is getting more serious than I’m comfortable with, given his lines about our relationship. “Yeah, I suppose you do.”

“Does that bother you?” He gives me a curious look and I can’t tell what he’s thinking.

Yes! It does, dammit.

You can’t be this nice. You’re going to break what’s left of my heart into pieces so small that I can’t glue them together again. I can’t have you, so I can’t fall for you. I’m a complete idiot and I’m letting you lead me down a path to pain and heartbreak with a smile and a wink. I don’t say that, though.

I shake my head. “Nope.”

Damnit. Why am I so Goddess blessed stupid?

He gives me another intense look and I can”t tell where we’re going with this conversation. “How do you feel about having someone around you won’t have to meditate for?”

I stuck in a deep breath and let it out slowly, being careful how I choose my words. “Relieved? I’m less forgiving of the garbage lately. I stopped feeling guilty about telling people ‘no’ when I needed to. I put space between me and the things that I can’t deal with.” Like Wilde, Rhea, and the trembling masses yearning for me to make them feel popular.

“Like you did the other day when you were texting with me after your spat with Blondie?”

When I told him about her crying therapy session, that sounded like it came straight from a twelve-step handbook, he listened. He had his own run in with that bleached bitch that precipitated mine. Despite his assertion that they had a rough conversation, she was in my house later, acting like everything was peachy keen.

She’s a bi-polar Barbie right now.

“It was a terrible night. I was tired, annoyed, and then angry that she’d upset you. By the end of the day, I was ready to put a lock on my door. If I’d lost it on her when she showed up at my house today, she and I wouldn’t be speaking.”

His jaw drops, and he gapes at me in disbelief. “Me losing it is shocking? I don’t buy that bridge. I lose it all the time. You gotta push me damned far, but I do.”

“No, that’s not it. For a minute, it sounded like you were saying you’d blast her because she upset me. That can’t be what you meant, so never mind.”

I pause, deciding how to answer this question. “I got upset because of how she behaved. She lied to me, used you, and she was selfish. She disparaged people who have done nothing but love her. She takes no responsibility for the damage she caused. Her excuse is always ‘there’s something wrong with me’. When she showed up today, she acted like nothing was wrong. It pissed me the fuck off.”

Rhea left me so pissed and hurt that I let things happen with my other mates I shouldn’t have. I had to heal those things before he got home. Trust Sari and Wilde to jump on someone who’s down and keep jumping until they quit struggling.

“That’s much less of a shock.”

“I was mad that you poked your head out, and she immediately threw something ugly at you. That’s not exactly encouraging you to hang around, is it?” I huff, not sure at this moment what part of her behavior made me angriest.

My mind hasn’t wrapped around a way to communicate how upset I was. I’m terrified to reveal my biggest fear—that Taurus will say, ‘fuck this’ and dart back into the hole he’s been in for the past few years. If that happens, Rhea will have shredded my heart, fucked over Rafe, and left me without an escape from the terror twins.

Giving me an odd look, he says, “So it was about me.”

Oh, ho.More than you know, buddy, and much more than I’m going to admit. “Maybe a little.”

“Ah.” He looks at his hands for a moment and sighs. “Unfortunately for Blondie, she hurt me.”

I shrug uncomfortably, willing to give a tiny concession so he won’t look so downtrodden. “I’m protective of people I like. I don’t like to see them hurt.”

“I don’t allow many people close enough to hurt me. Once they do, they don’t get close enough to do it again—ever.”

“I know how that is.” I close my eyes and think about the chasm that has been growing in my family. It’s widened with Wilde and Sari, but I have always blamed that situation on them. Now I see they may have manipulated Rhea and Alistair, but those two wanted it. There were no innocent parties in that mess, save Rafe and I.

We were the only true losers in that little game.

He shakes his head. “I’m not sure you can. I have nothing in me that goads me into guilt, tender feelings, or loyalty to the disloyal—you do. Once you’re out of my life, that’s it. The teeth-gnashing I have for the gnome is warm by comparison.” His expression is glittering with ice and I almost shiver at the feel. He pulls a bag of peanut MM’s from his pocket and, as if to soften the blow, he holds out a handful from the bag. “Want one?”

I lean over and nip the lone green one out of his palm. As usual, I crack the chocolate off, lick it clean, and crunch the peanut last. “Thanks. But you’re wrong, you know. My line is harder to push than yours, but people have crossed it before. There are people I will never forgive until the day I die. I won’t even pretend to deal with them. You gotta earn it to live there, though.”

I look at my hands, thinking of Clea and the host of people she turned against me. Definitely on the list. That makes me consider where the people in my life currently sit. Mating concerns aside, haven’t the extended families crossed that line several times over? Why am I letting this stew instead of ridding myself of their bullshit?

“Fair enough,” he says, studying my face. “My line is easier to push than yours because I have one simple rule. It’s a variation of ‘don’t shit where you sleep’. You can gun down your mother with a street howitzer, and I’ll be right there with you through it all. You can hurt yourself and others, and I’ll never leave your side. But if you turn on me once—out of jealousy, petty envy, or your own neurosis—and I get hurt, that’s it.” He tosses another green candy at me and I catch it in my mouth, making him smile.

“I beat myself to death before I take it out on others. I don’t expect others to deal with my shit. I punish myself better than anyone else could because I prefer to handle my own neuroses.” I give him a crooked smile and shrug, feeling oddly melancholy.

This conversation is making me review my options. What would happen if I severed ties? How would it affect my mate, my family members, and my community? My biggest fear is that the ripple effect could destroy everything I’ve built in the Resistance. The cost to benefit ratio is running through my mind like a freight train.

“Here’s the rub: I’m a cold, cruel man. I’ll still chat Blondie up. With Talia and her being close, that’s not something I can avoid. Hell, we might even shag one day. It’s at the very least on the furthest boundaries of the realm of possibilities. But she won”t ever be inside my heart again, so the past will taint everything. She’ll feel it; the sensitive ones always do.”

“If you’re sensitive, you can always feel certain emotions. Ice is one of them.”

“There’s nothing I can do to change that, nor would I want to.” His expression is odd again and I can’t help but feel that I’m missing something important. “Do you still like me, pet? I’m a difficult bloke to know.”

Pressing my lips together, I struggle to answer honestly as while avoiding revealing things I don’t want to. “You aren’t difficult to know. You’re straightforward and on the arrogant side, but you don’t play games. You’re a lot less hard to get along with than you project.”

That much is infinitely true. Compared to the tricksy, pitfall filled relationships that make up my current family, he’s a breeze. What I don’t tell him is that he’s also funny and smart, warm and tender, and surprising at every turn. Telling him those things would reveal too much of what I’m feeling.

It’s so precarious, the little ledge I’m standing on, hoping nothing knocks me off.