Karl’s answer came without hesitation. “Yeah. I’m in.”
LEON
Leon prowled in cat form, moving with silent precision. Damp leaves softened the ground beneath his paws, and the low clouds above were heavy with a promise of rain that hadn’t quite materialized. He was double-checking a sector Joaquim and Ava had cleared. Leon didn’t believe in trusting without verifying.
That might not make him the most popular cat around, double-checking their work, but he was never going to be that anyway. Better to be resented than to let his sister come to harm.
A wolf was moving through the trees on a diverging course with him. Its quietness and subtlety surprised him, and he paused an instant, scenting the air, wondering which of the wolves it was. Christian.
Now thatwasa surprise. When Karl had introduced them earlier, Christian had been all quivering aggression, looking for offense. While normally Leon wouldloveto have obliged, he decided that it would get under the wolf’s skin even more if he gave him no excuse for a fight. He’d been right—when Christian had stalked off, disappointed, he’d practically been able to see clouds of steam coming out of his ears, like a cartoon. But now, Christian was being careful and quiet.
Perhaps Karl had better control over his people than Leon had thought. Though he still hadn’t gotten over the way wolves had been lounging around relaxing when they had Luna on site.
No matter how watchful he was, Christian hadn’t spotted Leon, who’d been careful to stay downwind. Which, if Leon were fair, might not be entirely Christian’s fault. He’d be expecting a cougar, not a black jaguar, almost impossible to see in the deep shadow beneath the trees.
That was the thing about being the only jaguar in a pride of cougars—he stood out, and not in a good way. Different look, different everything. No one said it out loud, but he knew what they saw when he shifted. What he reminded them of.
Once in a while, though—like now—it worked in his favor. He shook his shoulders, tension sliding off like water, then ran a smoothing lick over one paw. Just because he was invisible didn’t mean he had to be less than perfect. If people were going to stare, at least he’d give them something pretty to look at.
He pricked his ears as he heard something approaching. He’d seen a few chipmunks and a couple of deer, but whatever was headed his way was making a lot more noise, practically blundering along. Making a swift decision, he climbed the nearest tree and lay along the branch across the path.
He could now see what was making all that commotion. A gray wolf trotted into view, and Leon narrowed his eyes. The wolf was way too relaxed, his tongue lolling, body loose and happy. Not a single glance cast to the shadows, no caution in his steps. Like he didn’t expect danger.
Leon’s muscles bunched. With the silence of a shadow, he dropped from the branch above the trail and landed squarely on the wolf’s back. The impact sent them both to the ground in a flurry of fur.
The wolf—Tristan, Leon recognized now—yelped in shock, legs scrabbling for leverage beneath Leon’s weight. Leon kept him pinned, claws sheathed but firm, every muscle tensed. Tristan twisted under him, confused, frightened, caught completely off guard. And that was the point, wasn’t it?
This. This was what happened when you stopped watching the shadows.
Leon stared down at the young wolf, a low warning growl rumbling in his throat. Tristan stilled beneath him, chest heaving. He didn’t growl or try to bite, just lay there in baffled submission—and the beginnings of a rising hurt that flickered in his scent. He didn’t understand what he’d done wrong.
Leon waited one more beat, then stepped off him. Turning, he padded toward a nearby oak. In three leaps, he was up and stretched along a branch, tail flicking lazily.
Below, Tristan scrambled upright and turned to stare after him. His ears were flattened, and his stance defensive. He was shaken and confused, and maybe a little scared.
Leon rested his head on his paws, staring coolly down at the wolf. A long-overdue lesson had been learned.
Next time, the wolf would check his six before bumbling around so carelessly, when an enemy might be waiting behind any bush. Or above any path.
KARL
They worked for long enough that Karl’s inner clock began to protest. While he was here, he wasn’t out there, keeping everyone safe.
Eventually, Matt straightened from where he’d been leaning over the map.
“Thanks,” he said, running his hand through his hair, a gesture of weariness that had become increasingly common these last few weeks. “We’ve got enough to get started now. I’ll keep you looped in.”
Karl wasted no time, heading out through the kitchen, empty as usual at this time of day. He needed to find out what the cats were up to, Leon in particular. Something at the base of his spine was itching, even though he knew there was no reason for it. Dave and Christian would have everything under control.
As he reached the back door, Tristan opened it, jumping a mile when he came nose to nose with Karl.
“Oh! Sorry,” he said, and he sounded wrong, his voice thready.
Karl froze, all his internal alarms blaring, his gut twisting. What the hell had been happening while he’d been doing management stuff?
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, voice low with threat.
Tristan scrunched his nose uncertainly. “I mean, nothing? Not really,” he said. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know why he did it, and then he just went up a tree where I couldn’t ask him. Not without standing there and shouting up at him, which—”
