CHAPTER 10
After a night of exquisite torture holding Kirby’s warm, curvy body against his own without it going any further, Bastien spent the day coaching her on how to shift at will, as well as how to handle senses that had become far more acute now that her lynx was out of hibernation.
With the mating bond not yet set in stone, he was brutally possessive of her, but suggested they call in Dorian for a couple of hours. “Dorian learned to move in cat form as an adult,” he told Kirby, “so he’ll be able to explain things better.” The other male was also already mated, thus less apt to set off Bastien’s aggressive instincts, instincts he couldn’t fully control this far into the mating dance.
Kirby agreed to the instruction, but she was wary with Dorian.
However, and in spite of his violent dominance, the white-blond sentinel proved a patient teacher who had Kirby smiling at him by the time the session ended. “Thank you,” she said. “I’m so glad Bastien asked you to come over.”
Dorian didn’t respond to the heartfelt words with an affectionate touch, as Bastien knew he normally would have; the sentinel had no doubt picked up on Bastien’s precarious equilibrium. “You’re doing me a favor,” the other male said instead. “Finally I get to teach someone.”
He thrust a hand through his hair. “You have no idea the razzing I took from the others when I fell on my ass my first few hunts.” A scowl directed at Bastien. “Bas here sent me a nice sensitive card with a leopard in diapers on the front.”
Kirby’s mouth dropped open. “Bastien, you didn’t.”
Cuddling her close, he rubbed his jaw along her temple. “Sheesh, Kirby, it’s not like I could hug him and say motivational bullshit.”
Dorian’s snarl was belied by the amusement in his vivid blue eyes. They both knew the razzing had been affectionate, the entire pack overjoyed at his ability to shift.
“I’ll see you both later,” the sentinel said now. “I promised my mate and son an after-school drive to get ice cream.”
It wasn’t long after Dorian’s departure that Kirby’s phone rang, the records request she’d filed answered not by social services, but by a detective who’d been on the job at the time of the fire. “I never forgot you,” Detective Shona Bay said, the intensity of her dark gaze apparent even through the small screen. “You were so tiny, so shocked. I carried you to the hospital myself, your poor little feet were in such bad shape.”
Then, as Bastien held Kirby, the detective told her why the victims had never been identified. “Your family was just passing through. Came in on the train, rented the vacation house with cash for a week. No paper trail outside the home, and everything in it went up in smoke when an electrical fault caused a fatal overload early that morning.”
“The owner?” Bastien couldn’t believe he—or she—hadn’t remembered the names of the people to whom they’d rented a home.
The detective rubbed her hands over her face. “I went looking the first day, had a bad feeling it may have been a cash rental, given his habit of them.” Lips twisting, she said, “Turned out he’d had a fall while doing maintenance on another one of his properties two days earlier, took a serious bump to the head. Ended up recovering totally, except for some short-term memory loss.”
Bastien didn’t need the detective to spell it out to realize the time span of that memory loss had included the landlord’s meeting with a small lynx family. Luck had not been on the side of his little cat that long-ago day in Georgia, he thought, holding her tighter as her hand flexed and fisted convulsively against his back, her arm wrapped around him.
“Far as we could figure,” the detective continued, eyes on Kirby, “you must’ve squeezed outside through a pet door your parents probably didn’t expect you to fit through.” Shaking her head, she said, “Your palms were burned, too, soot and tears on your face.”
“Were you able to recover anything?” Bastien smoothed his hand down Kirby’s spine, able to feel the fine tremors shaking her frame. “The smallest piece could help Kirby trace her family.”
“I found a photo that looked like it was taken in a maternity suite of two adults with a baby,” the detective said. “Posted it everywhere I could think of, used it to search through missing persons files for years, but I made a mistake.” Her shoulders slumped. “I searched only through the missing tagged human, figured it had to be right since you were human.”