“What led to the fight?” asked Jesse.

Dominic shrugged, hating the feeling of helplessness that came from being forced to watch while Mila’s cat was hurt. “Haven’t got a clue. I also don’t understand why the jackal hasn’t shifted. It could be that she’s latent, or it could be that she’s hoping to retrieve this to end the fight.” He showed them the gun. “Any of you recognize her?”

Harley blew out a breath. “Kind of hard to say, since I can’t see her face. But I don’t recognize her scent.”

“Neither do I,” said Jesse, looking just as eager to intervene as Dominic was.

“She came to the bar earlier and ordered a martini,” said Ally. “At least, I think it was her.”

The cat let out a little yelp, and Dominic spat a curse. He took another steadying breath, reminding himself that, with their thick hides and overabundance of fur, her kind were hard to hurt.

“I don’t like that Mila’s in pain right now,” said Ally. “But I have to be honest, I just love watching pallas cats fight. Even while scratching and biting like a critter of pure horror, they’re still somehow immensely cute.”

Jesse grimaced. “They’re odd-looking creatures that—”

They all jerked back as the jackal tripped, fell, and bashed the back of her head on the glass coffee table. Her arms slipped to the floor as her body went limp. Dominic could hear her heartbeat, so he knew she was simply out cold.

Sides heaving, the little cat detached herself from the jackal and backed away, her teeth bared. Eyes still locked on her enemy, she pitched forward and swiped at the female again and again. Made a series of rumbly sounds, as if trying to provoke the jackal, but the woman didn’t stir.

Blood matted the cat’s coat, and Dominic thought he could make out some welts, scratches, and puncture wounds—with all that thick fur, he just couldn’t be sure. There was blood near the black stripes on her cheeks and over the little dark spots on her forehead, and he wondered if the jackal had clawed at the cat’s face to make her let go.

Wanting the feline healed, Dominic cast a brief glance at Ally. “Maybe you—”

The cat’s attention snapped his way. Ears flat, she curled her upper lip, baring long, bloodstained fangs. Green eyes—their pupils round rather than vertical—glared at Dominic with an unblinking, crazed stare. And, honest to God, his fingers itched for holy water. Shit.

CHAPTER SIX

Hey there,” said Dominic, his voice low and gentle.

She let out a long, fierce, pissed-the-fuck-off hiss. And he got the feeling that the cat wasn’t just upset by the attack. She was angry at having her fun disturbed. He’d seen the same expression on his Alpha female’s face when he’d interrupted her downtime. Taryn was batshit crazy as well.

He made no move toward the cat, knowing it would be suicidal. He needed to lure her to him. “All of you step back,” he told the others. “I need plenty of space around me or she’s not likely to approach.” As the others backed away, Dominic crouched onto his haunches and tapped the floor. “Come on over here.”

Fangs bared, the cat let out a doglike bark. It was a definite “fuck you.”

“I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be, but I just want to check your wounds,” he said, relying on Mila to communicate what he wanted to the feline, since the animal wouldn’t understand his words.

The cat kept on glaring at him, thumping the floor with her dark-ringed, black-tipped bushy tail. Yeah, apparently, she was totally unmoved.

“She’s your prize, I get it. I don’t want it. I just want to make sure you’re fine.” Dominic lay on his side, hoping the relaxed pose might reassure her somehow. “Mila, help me calm your cat. The jackal’s going to wake soon. If you want to talk to her, you need to be back in your human form.”

The cat cocked her head and chuffed, and he got the feeling she was communicating with Mila.

He tapped the floor again with his fingertips. “Come on, come over here,” he softly coaxed. “I won’t hurt you. You’d scratch out my eyes if I did anyway, right? Come on. Let me make sure you’re okay. Ally can heal those wounds, and the pain will vanish like magic. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Again, she just stared at him, but her tail was no longer thumping the floor.

“Maybe I’m messed up, but even though you’re covered in blood, I think you’re way too cute right now.”

The cat’s eyes narrowed, and her face scrunched up into the crankiest expression he’d ever seen. The rage was gone. In its place was utter exasperation. Apparently, Mila had interpreted his compliment to her and the cat merely found it pathetic.

After one last warning hiss at the still-unconscious jackal, the cat regally padded her way to Dominic, annoyance in every step. With all that fur, she shouldn’t look so graceful, but she did.

“Good girl.” Keeping his touch light, he stroked her thick, lush coat as he whispered nonsense to her. Surprisingly soft, her rich gray fur had white tips, as if dusted with frost.

Not doubting for a single second that she’d tear a strip off his face if he made any wrong moves, Dominic kept his touch as gentle as his voice. Her eyes drifted shut as he scratched behind one of her small tufty ears. The cream fur inside them matched the patches on her chin, throat, and underparts.

Purring, she looked up at him through round eyes that were accentuated by the concentric white and black rims surrounding them. The storm had left her gaze.

“Come back, Mila,” he whispered.

The cat rumbled a put-out sound. Bones snapped and popped as she shifted. And then Mila was crouched in front of him, panting.

She sighed. “Well, GQ, you somehow charmed my very antisocial cat. It’s official. You have special powers.”

Sitting upright, Dominic caught her nape and gave her a quick kiss before she could get to her feet. “She charmed me right back.” As Harley stepped forward, holding Mila’s clothes, Dominic snatched the jacket and wrapped it around Mila. Yeah, shifters were used to nakedness and Jesse was happily mated, but Dominic still didn’t want the other male to get a look at her body. He frowned at the wounds on her face. “That bitch got you good right above your eye.”

Ally approached. “I can fix that.”

Mila stood, grinding her teeth against the pain as her movements pulled on her many rake wounds. She held still as Ally very simply laid a hand on her cheek. Healing warmth radiated through Mila, thick and soothing, and chased away the pain. When the Seer lowered her hand, Mila blew out a breath. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Harley, passing Mila the rest of her clothes.

“Fine, albeit pissed with that bitch on the floor.”

“There’s no ID on her,” said Jesse, bending over the body.

“Watch her for me while I just go wash and dress,” Mila said to no one in particular. In the small attached bathroom, she quickly showered and then pulled on her underwear, tank top, and jeans. When she walked back into the greenroom with her jacket in hand, she saw that the jackal—her clothes and face bloody and shredded—was wide awake. Her inner cat hissed and swiped out her paw, claws unsheathed.