Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack #4)(23)

Eli raised a hand. “I didn’t say that. But they’re bears, Shaya. Bears are a lot stronger than cats.”

“But they’re not faster,” Ally pointed out. “Or more agile. They couldn’t have been hammered anyway, because they drove to Madisyn’s house and lurked outside like weirdos.”

“But their thinking was impaired,” said Eli. “No shifter in their right mind would want to be on Bracken’s bad side. Yet they plowed that car into him.”

“Maybe they didn’t recognize him.” Ally shrugged. “Maybe they were so focused on Madisyn that they didn’t pay him any real attention. Whatever the case—”

The leather chair squeaked as Derren leaned forward. “Ah, here she is.”

Everyone gathered around the computer, eyes on the monitor. Bracken watched as Madisyn disappeared into one of the toilet stalls. The sight of her put his wolf on high alert. Minutes went by, but she didn’t reappear.

“She’s been in that stall for a while now,” said Eli. “Must be one hell of a shit she’s dropping.”

The restroom door opened, and three females strode inside.

“I’m guessing these are the hoe bags,” said Ally, the hint of a growl in her voice.

“Did you see that?” asked Shaya. “The blonde just locked the door. Bitch.”

When his little cat finally left the stall, Bracken leaned closer to the monitor. There was no audio, so he didn’t have a clue what was being said, and he couldn’t lip-read for shit. “Can anyone make out what they’re saying?”

“No, but Madisyn seems calm enough,” said Nick. “She doesn’t look worried, even though the bitches are definitely trying to provoke her. And yep, the redhead just sliced out her claws.”

Bracken narrowed his eyes as he focused on Madisyn. She didn’t brace herself to attack. Didn’t make any intimidating moves or use her posture to subtly exert her dominance. She just stood there. So it came as a shock when her fist suddenly connected with the redhead’s throat. And then the fun began.

He watched, rapt, as she proceeded to kick the sows’ asses. She was fast. Wicked fast. Didn’t even break a sweat. There was viciousness behind every punch, kick, and swipe of her claws. And then she shifted, and a gray blur pounced.

Derren jerked back from the screen. “Whoa.”

“Is that a pallas cat?” asked Jesse. “Fuck me, it is.”

As shocked as his friend, Bracken couldn’t help but wince as the cat wrapped herself around the ringleader’s face like a rabid squirrel on crack, clawing and biting without pity. He winced again when the cat shifted back to human, and Madisyn then sank her claws into the sow’s stomach. Jesus, she was merciless. And he didn’t find that a turnoff at all. If she weren’t his mate and already in his wolf’s sights, the animal would have locked on her after that display of viciousness.

Once the fight was finally over, she pulled on her clothes and—calm as you please, blood dotting her face—ambled to the door.

Derren paused the footage and sat back in his seat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with a pallas cat. Amazing how all that cuteness perverts into horror.”

“I didn’t see that coming,” said Shaya, shoving a hand into her red curls. “I thought Madisyn was a Canadian lynx.”

Nick’s brow furrowed. “I thought she was a caracal. Maybe even an ocelot. I definitely did not think she was one of those snuggly little death dealers.”

Eli chuckled. “To be fair, the breed won’t bother you if you don’t bother them.”

Bracken nodded. Private and relatively unsociable, pallas cats were happy to live and let live. But if you pissed them off, they would fuck your shit up. It didn’t matter if you were ten times bigger or stronger than they were. It didn’t matter if they were outnumbered—they wouldn’t give one hot shit. No, they’d strike without warning, turning from a cuddly creature into a furry ball of insanity. That was just how the little cat rolled.

You never startled them. You never cornered them. You never touched their food. And you never fed them after midnight.

“I tell ya, it’s going to be hard not to ask Madisyn to shift just so I can get an up-close look at her cat,” said Shaya. “I’ve only ever seen photos of her kind, and I adore how they manage to look constantly cranky. It only makes them cuter.”

Nick stared at his mate, incredulous. “You want an up-close look? Did you not see what the feline did in that restroom? She wrapped herself around that sow’s head like one of those things you see in the Alien movies.”

Shaya’s eyes lit up. “I know. It was awesome, right?”

Nick frowned. “Pallas cats are weird-looking.”

“But in a cute way,” Shaya insisted. “And that cuteness makes them easy to underestimate.”

That was true. If someone were to look at those large amber eyes, all that rich, long gray fur, the little black stripes across their cheeks, and the dark rings marking the bushy, black-tipped tail, they wouldn’t expect to find themselves dealing with a fierce creature that was one of the most vicious shifter breeds.

“I have to say, I love the way her thick fur has white tips that give it a frosted silvery look,” added Ally.

Shaya nodded, her face soft. “Don’t forget those small tufty ears and the little dark spots she has on her forehead like snow leopards. Ooh, and the little patches of white-cream fur on her chin, throat, and inner ears—”