Circle of the Moon (Soulwood #4)

“You got a cage, CC?”

Occam smiled at the Crispy Critter reference. “I do. LaFleur’s used it before. It’s familiar, a safe place, so I think his cat would go into it. I can set it up in his office or the sleeping room.”

Rick, in cat form, here. Having Mud at HQ when I was working was looking like a worse and worse idea. I needed to figure out child care now, not after the court gave me custody.

“LaFleur’s office,” T. Laine said. “That way he won’t disturb us if he starts yowling.”

We looked at her in disbelief. “Really?” JoJo said. “Yowl? You’re talking about our boss.”

“So? Cats yowl.” T. Laine’s face creased in a mischievous grin and she looked at Clementine’s speaker in the middle of the table. “There was a feral cat who actually brought her boyfriends to my front porch and had relations one night. It was loud!”

Tandy and Occam snickered. I realized this was a joke that would be included in the day’s record.

“Ingram,” Jo said to me. “Report.”

I filled them in on the vampire meeting and the few insights I had to offer. It wasn’t much.

“EOD concluded. Clementine, cease recording,” JoJo said, dumbfounded, shaking her head. A small red light I hadn’t noticed on the mic went dark. “Dismissed. Be safe, people.”

The team dispersed slowly, JoJo and Tandy going over the files and discussing what to do if Rick came back or called one of us or was spotted in cat form by the public. T. Laine said she was working on something and would be late in the morning. As he left the room, Occam pointed a finger at me, saying, “I’m running some errands, but I’ll pick up dinner and bring it back.”

My heart warmed at the thought that I’d get to see him again. He walked from the room and my eyes followed him down the hallway, his body moving cat-like, graceful and smooth. It was good to see him being Occam again and not so badly burned and wounded. And my thoughts returned to his … not his proposal. He hadn’t offered one. But he had said he loved me. Loved. Me. Leaves and all. Except that I didn’t know how I felt about loving a man. About giving myself to him. I had done that once before out of desperation and the bargain had been worth it, but I didn’t know if I wanted to bargain for my freedom again. Would that be what I was doing if I loved a man? Bargaining for my freedom? Did I even love Occam? I wasn’t sure about that. The few romance books I had read suggested that love followed attraction and I certainly felt an attraction for Occam. But …

Brow furrowed, my brain thinking too many things on too many levels to really concentrate on just one—like work—I went to my cubicle. I started putting together a list of spells that had been used against vampires in the past, something akin to the spell that was calling them. I was still wearing jeans and the T-shirt I started the shift in, and since I’d be working in the office, I saw no reason to change just to do paperwork. I had a nicer pair of pants in the four-day gobag should I need them. I took the laptop to my cubicle and called Mama and then Mud, before I started in. Mud was planting herbs in good Soulwood soil and playing with her computer. “Don’t be ordering any more electrical equipment,” I warned.

Mud giggled. “Nope. Sam, Jedidiah, Daddy, and me are talking greenhouses.”

“Tell them to not let you break my budget.” My sister was safe with the Nicholsons tonight and I made arrangements to pick her up when I got off work. Unless Rick reappeared, it was shaping up to be a quiet night.

Two hours later, I heard the door from the stairway open, with a strange metallic banging clanging sound. I got up from my desk and stuck my head out in the hallway to see Occam wedging a stack of metal against the door to hold it open. He whirled and padded down the stairs again, his boots so soft on the steps I could barely hear them.

I went to the top of the stairs and inspected the flat metal, which turned out to be an easily assembled cage, steel walls and top with a removable, silver-plated steel bottom. Rick’s cage. Occam came in again, this time carrying bags of hoagies and a plastic container of iced tea from Frussies Deli & Bakery on Gay Street. He grinned at me as the outer door closed. “I got a Dirty Bird, a Three Little Pigs, a Turkey Club, and a James Dick’s Favorite. I—”

Something slammed into the outer door. Faster than I could follow, Occam set down the bag, drew his weapon, and raced back down the stairs. From the conference room JoJo shouted, “It’s Rick’s leopard!” The banging, slamming came again. Even though the outer door was reinforced to withstand a small bomb, I could see the edges give.

Occam’s lips were bloodless in the harsh lighting. His eyes tense as he mentally ran through his options.

The banging came again. And again. I looked back at the window. It was dark out but the moon hadn’t risen yet.

“A grindy is with him,” JoJo shouted. “What do you want to do, CC?”

Occam, one shoulder against the wall, changed out magazines for silver ammo and said to me, “Set up the cage in Rick’s office.”

I grabbed the cage, which was heavier than I expected and bulky, and dragged it more than carried it to Rick’s office. It was easy to assemble, with a tab that read, LIFT HERE. I lifted and the cage opened with relative ease. There were steel supports for each corner and for the top and bottom. I snapped them closed. No pawed creature could open them. It would require opposable thumbs. It took me maybe half a minute to set it up, and the booming continued as I worked. I opened the cage door. Satisfied, I raced back to the stairwell. “Got it.”

“Close all the office doors but Rick’s. Lock yourselves in the conference room,” Occam said. His voice was calm, emotionless, steady.

Slamming doors behind me, I raced to the conference room. I locked Tandy, JoJo, and myself into safety. Turned and faced the room, my back to the door, so I could watch the camera feed overhead. One camera showed a black leopard throwing himself at the outer door. Another showed Occam slapping open a security baton. The volume was up on the speaker system and the sound of the baton opening was a schink-snap. From the way it moved through the air I knew the baton was heavy-weighted steel.

Occam braced himself behind the door and opened it. The parking lot’s lights blasted in.

Rick leaped inside, a black smear in the silvered lights. White fangs bared. His snarl was a growl of menace. The leopard twisted in midair, body lithe, supple, vicious. He reached out with his front claws. Slashing for Occam.





TEN




My heart stopped.

As fast as Rick, Occam spun. Arm back like a batter’s. Brought the baton down on Rick’s front legs just above the paws. Reversed. Rapped Rick’s skull. Fast low thumps while the cat was in midair.

The black leopard went down with a thud. Rick didn’t move.

“Wow,” I said. Blinked.

A grindy jumped from outside onto Occam’s shoulder. Occam petted the grindy, a long swipe down its body. “Hey there, Pea. Or Bean. Whichever you are. We’re all good.”

Bending, Occam shoved Rick out of the doorway and closed the door. He closed the baton with a metallic click and placed the grindy on the step. Holstering his weapon, he bent and grabbed Rick’s front legs near the chest. He heaved Rick up and over his shoulder, a black weight with front legs that hung at odd angles. Broken. He carried Rick up the steps. The amulet created by the local witches swung from its chain around his neck. I couldn’t tell if it was working, but considering the shape Rick was in, I guessed not.

JoJo activated different security cams as they moved, allowing us to follow Occam as he carried Rick to the office. He bent and tossed Rick inside the cage in front of Rick’s desk, banged the cage door shut, and secured it. He wasn’t even breathing hard. Occam went back to the stairs and retrieved the sandwich bag and the gallon of tea, made sure the door to the stairs shut properly, and came to the conference room.

I opened the door. Behind me JoJo said, “My hero.”

“Anything for the ladies. Hey, Nell, sugar. What sandwich you want?”

“Looking at her, I’d say to give her the Dick’s Favorite,” Jo said.

There was something in her tone that made me think she was saying something else, but it was something I had to ignore, mostly because I didn’t know how to react to it. “I’d rather have the Three Little Pigs,” I said. “And extra mayo if you have it.”

Occam gave me a look that I couldn’t interpret, but it might have been tenderness. Or possessiveness. Or neither. He unwrapped the sandwich and passed it to me, then handed out the rest of the food as the others requested. He passed around napkins and paper cups for the tea, which was sweating on the conference room table.

We ate in silence until JoJo spoke around a bite of meat and bread. “So you broke Rick’s legs. That might piss him off.”

“It might,” Occam said, laconic, drawing out the last word as if he didn’t care.