Cats in Heat Read online

  Adelaide Deveraux lives a quiet life in the country, never quite fitting in with other people and preferring her spare time spent caring for the various stray cats in the area. But late one night, a feline of a much larger persuasion shows up at her door, shifting into a very injured—and very naked—human man in need of help.

  Erik Wells has been on the run his whole life: from the people who killed his parents when he was a boy, from a group determined to exterminate his own kind, and now from the underground gladiator ring who abduct shifters and have them fight to the death for entertainment. And he needs to keep running, but something about Addie draws him to her home and her care.

  The tiger in him senses it: there’s more to Addie than apparent at first glance—more to her knack for working with roots and herbs; more to her strange dreams; more to the secrets buried in her family history. But if she is who he thinks she is, the danger’s just beginning, as the powerful man responsible for keeping Erik captive for so long will stop at nothing to obtain her for his own.

  Cats in Heat

  Cats & Conjure #1

  Asha King

  Also by Asha King

  Now Available

  Near to You

  Bad Moon Rising

  Somebody to Love

  Wild Horses (Stirling Falls #1)

  Wild Horses: Cold, Cold Winter (Stirling Falls #1.5)

  Sympathy for the Devil (Stirling Falls #2)

  Circle of Friends: How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

  Coming Soon

  The Book of Love

  I Who Have Nothing

  Gimme Shelter (Stirling Falls #3)

  Circle of Friends: Still in Love with You

  Cat Scratch Fever (Cats & Conjure #2)

  Stray Cat Strut (Cats & Conjure #3)

  Cats in Heat

  Copyright © 2013 by Asha King

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Edited by Adrienne Jones

  Cover Art © 2013 by Asha King

  First Edition October 2013

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9921281-3-5

  All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this or any copyrighted work is illegal. Authors are paid on a per-purchase basis. Any use of this file beyond the rights stated above constitutes theft of the author’s earnings. File sharing is an international crime, prosecuted by the United States Department of Justice Division of Cyber Crimes, in partnership with Interpol. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by seizure of computers, up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 per reported instance. Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

  Your support of my livelihood is appreciated.

  Special thanks...

  ...to my friend Aylia’s husband, for playing the right song at the right time—a song that inspired this book and series. Sort of.

  And sorry, Aylia, for basically saying your husband inspired my erotica—I totally did not mean it like THAT.

  Chapter One

  “Okay, bring your arms up!”

  This elicited a groan from the women in her class.

  Adelaide Deveraux sighed, maintaining her stance. They’d just barely gotten through the bellydancing warm-ups when the bitching began and weren’t any happier in the conditioning exercises now. She kept her smile bright and arms in position, giving the class a moment.

  Eventually they got their griping done with and raised their arms. Only two held the same stance she did; the others had variations between loose arms with their elbows dipping downward and arms straight out instead of rounded.

  Let’s try another tactic. “Get those arms nice and round, elbows up—no, not that high, but level with the rest of your arms. Um...okay, how about you pretend you’re...hugging a tree. A really big tree.”

  “Or my husband,” muttered Mrs. Franks in the front row.

  The other women snickered, the humor seeming to freshen up their attention.

  “Or Cynthia’s husband,” Addie said. “Now, like we did in the warm-up, we’re going to isolate the chest. Not moving your hips or your shoulders, you’re going to shift your chest from side to side...”

  She tried not to let her dismay show on her face but good God this wasn’t going well. A big selling point for this belly dancing class had been not just the costume making later but the performance at the end of the course in front of family and friends. No way would they be ready for that in ten weeks.

  Addie walked around the class, stepping carefully around yoga mats and the odd cell phone people had brought—despite it being against the rules—to their stations, murmuring encouragingly and offering tips phrased in the most positive way possible. She wore a hip-scarf over her black, stretched cropped pants, and the dozens of shimmery coins jangled when she walked. It was irritating during a regular lesson but she figured out early on new students seemed to be more engaged with her instructions when a spangly belt was involved.

  Rain pattered hard on the windows of the rented community room, sending dappled shadows across the floor. The sun had been AWOL all day, both morning and afternoon grim and gray, melding into one. The weather report had called for a storm but—

  Thundered cracked in the distance, blasting over the Middle Eastern music playing from her iPod and speaker set up in the corner. Adelaide paused her trek around the room and the other women wavered their exercises, a common current of tension running through the room.

  The fine hairs on Addie’s arms rose, a prickle ran down her spine, then thunder spoke again. Lightning flashed in violent, jagged lines through the west window and the lights went out.

  A rush of whispers and nervous laughter ran through the group, breaking up the sudden silence. Addie swiftly walked to one of the windows and peered outside, watching the dance of lightning as it scattered from thickening clouds. The sky was pure black to the west—the storm wasn’t going anywhere. Rain hammered harder on the room, torrents streaking down the windows.

  In a small town like this one, there was no telling how long it would be before the power returned.

  “Well, class is over for today, ladies,” Addie said. “I’ll arrange a make-up—” She turned and saw all the women already gathering their things, chattering as they headed for the door.

  Addie sighed. Her students were soccer moms, some early retirees, and school staff who had the summer off. They were here for some silly fun and of course ready to duck out early. After all, they had lives and families.

  She sighed and gathered up her things: the iPod and speaker, her water bottle and yoga mat. Before she went anywhere, she pulled off the damn belt and balled it in her fist so it wouldn’t constantly jangle, slipped on her flip-flops, and then followed the others for the front door.

  The rain was intensely violent, soaking the parking lot. Addie and her group of pupils hung there in the community center foyer for a moment, staring at the grim afternoon outside. A figure raced across the lot, weaving between cars, and the women backed up as he burst through the door.

  Robbie burst in, his overalls and T-shirt soaked and clinging to his tall, lean body. He shook rain from his short sandy ha
ir and grinned lopsidedly, his gaze trailing over the women waiting inside. “Power’s out across town.”

  Addie’s pupils all groaned and muttered. A look at the nearly-black sky revealed the rain wouldn’t let up any time soon and there’d be no telling how long before the hydro company got things running again. Could be a line down somewhere—this happened out in the country far too often.

  Robbie’s eyes settled on Addie and his smile widened. “I have to lock up but I can give you a ride?”

  He knew she walked home—she walked everywhere. In a small town, she didn’t need a car. And she always declined, preferring the exercise, but a glance outside...

  “Okay,” she relented.

  “Great!” And he scurried off to check the various interior doors of the community center.

  In groups of two or three, the women began darting outside into the rain. Some clutched their purses to their chests, others held gym bags over their heads, and nearly all squealed as they pushed through the doors and were soaked by torrential rain. Wind sprayed water through the gap in the door for a moment, cooling Addie’s face, before the doors closed again and sealed the world outside away.

  Steps approached a few minutes later and then Robbie appeared at her side, swinging his keychain. He offered her a plastic grocery bag—it was bright yellow and he definitely hadn’t had it when he came in, so he must’ve found it in one of the back rooms.

  “Thanks.” She swiftly stuffed her things inside and tied the ends to seal it shut.

  Robbie gestured to the door. “Ready?”

  She nodded. He’d have to lock up behind him so she prepared to dart ahead for the old blue Chevy truck in the rapidly-emptying parking lot.

  “I left the truck unlocked,” he said with a nod toward the parking lot and good-natured smile.

  She was grateful for his forethought. With a deep breath, Addie darted outside.

  Rain slammed down hard on her, blasting her wavy hair flat and drenching her clothes in a matter of seconds. She could barely see past the rolling raindrops in her eyes. Her feet splashed through puddles in the uneven parking lot—they were up to her ankles and made her flip-flops slippery, forcing her to slow before she lost her sandals entirely. Eventually she paused just long enough to tear them off and then ran barefoot the rest of the way across cold, rough pavement. With her head down and eyes squinting, she saw little else but the light blue truck waiting.

  Lightning scattered across the sky and thunder cracked a second later overhead, almost right on top of the building. She felt it vibrating right into her bones and sighed with relief when she reached the truck at last. Addie dove inside the unlocked vehicle and slammed the door shut.

  The skies continued to drench everything, rain hammering little needles against the truck roof and windows. Addie swiped her hair back and sighed; there was nothing she could do to dry herself or protect the vehicle’s interior. Robbie wouldn’t mind too much, though—he’d offered her a ride, after all, and had to know what the consequences of rain were.

  She leaned back and crossed her arms at her chest as she shivered. Nothing she could do about her tank top soaked through to her bra but there was no reason to advertise anything.

  The sound of rain drowned out Robbie’s approach and it was only when he appeared at the driver’s side that she realized he was there. He climbed into the truck swiftly, slamming his door and sealing them in from the elements.

  “Wow.” He shook his head and slid the key in the ignition. “Can’t remember the last time we were hit this bad.”

  “We needed it, though,” Addie said. And it was true—the grass had gone a brown-yellow weeks ago, and if their dry summer continued, it was bound to affect farmers in the area.

  “Yeah, I kinda hope it lasts a few days.” He turned the key and the old engine revved. Immediately he fiddled with the dials until heat blasted them. The truck was stuffy to begin with but Addie was grateful for the air drying the water from her face and hairline.

  Robbie pulled the truck out of the lot and onto the street. The windshield wipers swished constantly and yet visibility was still low. Beyond the rain puddling on the glass, Addie glimpsed downtown Havelock ahead; the only lights came from cars, as all the traffics lights and streetlamps were down. Cars had slowed to a crawl, everyone sufficiently cautious and waiting at the main four corners for their turn to go.

  She didn’t need to give Robbie directions as he turned the truck south and headed away from the downtown core—he knew where she lived. Most people did. It was a mostly white town and while people were friendly enough, the young, single, bellydance-teaching woman of color stood out rather obviously, especially since she wasn’t born and raised here but moved to the area a few years ago. She didn’t mind terribly that she didn’t fit in. She never had, no matter where she lived, and as long as her neighbors were pleasant—which they were—she wasn’t going to let it trouble her.

  The space between the houses grew wider the farther they went. Just two miles from downtown and the area immediately rolled into the country. Robbie slowed the truck as they approached her small, single-story bungalow on the water and he turned into her empty driveway.

  The house was dark and grim but the grass already seemed to be greening happily in the rain. Her beds of wildflowers looked happy as well—she could all but feel them buzzing pleasantly. The rain barrels out back would be full as well, ready for the next time they had a prolonged drought.

  “Thanks,” Addie said, the plastic bag of her things clutched to her chest and crackled as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Very much appreciated today. Think the power will be down tomorrow too?”

  “Maybe. Even if it’s not, people will probably be busy restocking groceries and running errands.”

  That was true—given how spotty power could be in the summer when storms hit, she was surprised it always seemed to shock people in town when it happened. Tomorrow the grocery store would be packed.

  She had a class booked for tomorrow, Friday afternoon, but she’d be best to cancel it. “I’ll make my calls tonight, then. We’ll come back on Monday.” Addie fished her keys from her bag, rushing even though she dreaded heading outside.

  “So...” Robbie drew her attention just as her fingers grasped her key ring. “The power comes back tomorrow, do you...” He hesitated and she felt the question before he even asked it.

  He was a sweet guy—tall, good-looking, in his mid-twenties like she was—but she felt nothing like that for him. Addie didn’t date widely, never had: she relied on her gut, and her gut was definitely saying no.

  But she also didn’t have a huge number of friends in town. So she offered a smile. “Maybe. Give me a call?” He managed the community center where she ran her classes—he’d have her number on file, she knew.

  “Sure. Oh, and...hey, you know, be careful. Out here.” He lifted his strong chin, gesturing at her house and the lake beyond it. “Been hearing things. Wild animals spotted a bit too close to town.”

  “Will do. Thanks again.” She took a deep breath and then jerked open the door, hopping onto the driveway. Whatever parts of her had dried were immediately soaked again as she got the door shut and raced across the lawn, skipping the path to the door and taking a shortcut. A small, sheltered porch waited, and it would’ve offered her shelter if the rain was going straight down. Instead, the wind knocked it sideways, battering both her and the front of her house.

  They keys were slippery but she got them in the lock and the door opened. Seconds later she was safe and dry inside.

  Despite the fact it was only three in the afternoon, her bungalow was dark, looking closer to dusk than afternoon. She was chilled through and left a trail of water in her wake as she walked through the house for the back hallway and bathroom.

  The air buzzed restlessly and she couldn’t ignore the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach as she stripped, dried off, and pulled on a terrycloth robe. Something was coming, something that had her insides tied up nervously and
sent a breath of dread down her spine.

  She’d never felt it quite this strongly before, not since years earlier when her grandmother lived here and she was a little girl who visited with her mom. Normally Addie lived her quiet little life and only occasionally had a twinge of worry about things. But this...this was something else entirely.

  Addie pushed at the feeling and padded back toward the main area of the bungalow. Her long hair was wet against her back, the terrycloth soaking up extra moisture, and water trailed from the front door. Towels were needed for the old hardwood, definitely, just as soon as she got more light going.

  Her living room was small and cozy, with a worn but comfortable couch and loveseat set covered in overstuffed, plush cushions. The fireplace was welcome come winter, and low hanging lamps gave the space a warm glow—or normally did, when there was electricity.

  Without the lamps working, Addie stopped instead at the north wall, in a small space behind the couch, where she crouched at the low-sitting altar. Its dark walnut wood was polished and cared for, but worn over time with scratches and grooves. Still, she loved it—one of the remaining items inherited from her late grandmother. It could’ve passed for a bookshelf, which was what her mother had used it for, but Addie remembered Granmama Deveraux’s spot for it in the screened-in porch and the cushion on the floor in front of the altar where tools of her practice waited.

  Addie didn’t use it for much herself—didn’t really know what to do with it, the things her grandmother used to say barely still there in her mind. Her mother had Granmama’s things in storage, the house boarded up over the years until she died and Addie took over everything.

  But even if Addie didn’t use the altar in a formal sense, she did keep a row of candles across it and those she lit with a Bic lighter set off to the side. Flames leapt from the white pillars, warm and flickering. She took a deep, calming breath, and willed the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach to settle.