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Waking the Beast(14)

By:Lacey Thorn


“So tell me about it.”

This was it. This was when he would look at her as if she were a crazy woman. This was where everything would change.

She took a deep breath before charging in. “I grew up around cats, big cats. My parents were both vets who worked with exotic animals. They were called in many times to rescue large cats people took as pets and then realized they couldn’t take care of them. We’d pick the animals up, nurse them back to health if they were sick, and make arrangements for placement of them.”

“Return them to the wild?”

She shook her head. “Not usually. Zoo placement if we could find one who had room. Mom had contacts in Asia and Africa, and sometimes we’d send one to a wildlife preserve. Sometimes,” she swallowed as a tear spilled down her cheek, “sometimes they were too broken, and there was no choice but to put them down.” She wiped the tear away.

“Where are your parents, Abby?” He asked the question as if he already knew the answer. He didn’t. He couldn’t.

“They died when I was a child.” Her hand rubbed under her right breast even as visions tried to slam into her memory. Blood. Screams. Pain.

“Abby?” His hand touched hers, snapping her out of the past.#p#分页标题#e#

“I went to live with my grandmother. She was a great woman.”

He watched her for several long moments, and she prayed he wouldn’t push her. She didn’t want to talk about her parents right now. Not right now.

“So tell me about this love of cats.”

She felt relief flood her system at his acceptance.

“Myths, legends, cats, and Africa. What do they all have in common?” he asked.

“The paka watu,” she whispered the words, watching to see if there was any reaction from him. Was that a spark of yellow in his eyes? Or had she only imagined it?

“Paka watu?” he asked.

“It means cat people.”

“Cat people, huh?” He looked amused.

“It’s also the basis of an African legend about a tribe of people gifted by the Creator with spirit guides. Cats. And they shared their bodies with these cats, switching between human and animal as needed.”

“What happened to them?”

“How do you know something happened to them?”

“It only makes sense. Myths and legends rarely end in happily ever after.”

“They were attacked by hunters. Many were killed, and the remaining alpha lion knew that in order to save his pride, they would have to put their animals to sleep and learn to hide. They’d no longer be able to embrace the strength of their great spirit guides or even stay together as a pride.”

“That’s sad.”

She nodded in agreement. “But it was the only way he could save the surviving members of the pride.”

“What happened? Were they ever seen again?”

She shook her head. “They disappeared, each going a separate way and blending in. The animals were quieted and as time passed and one generation replaced the last, their spirits were often forgotten.”

She met his eyes and saw something there. Emotion? Sorrow? Utah felt something whether he was willing to admit it or not.

“Let me guess. Somehow you think I’m the descendent of this alpha lion.” He laughed at the look on her face. “I’m more than just a great body, Abby. I’ve got a brain up here too.”

He looked disappointed in her, and it made her feel horribly shallow. It was hard to sit in judgment on him for stereotyping her when she had been doing the same to him. Damn him for calling her out on it. That wasn’t very nice.

“I think you’re the descendent of the pride leader,” she answered him softly. “While I was in Africa, the bushmen gave me a name supposedly whispered on the wind. It wasn’t easy, but with help, I was able to research the descendent line. So many names and possibilities to weed through. I went with instinct and followed it to the possibility of you or one other. I chose you.”

“What made me the lucky one?” he asked with a soft smile.

“There’s the mark of the lion on you.”

“My tattoo?” He laughed. “I found it when I was flipping through a book.” He shrugged it off as if that was nothing.

“How many tattoos were in the book?” she asked him.

He shook his head and sighed. “A lot,” he admitted.

“But you chose that one because the lion means something to you. He’s your totem, your roho mwongozo.”

“My what?”

“Spirit guide. Plus, there’s your name.”

“Utah?”

“The one your friend’s call you. Tah. Do you know what Tau means in Southern Africa?”