Falke’s Renegade Read online

  “No! God, no. Is it conscious?”

  “Well, it’s breathing. It tried to run after I shot it, but not far. Looked like I got it in a leg. It’s bleeding pretty badly.”

  “Tell me exactly where you are.”

  He did one better and gave her GPS coordinates.

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Beaver Pond was just barely off her fathers’ property, a popular bear baiting spot. She could get there easily by ATV from the edge of Falke land. “Keep a safe distance from it, but keep it in your sights.”

  “Gotcha. Will do. Hurry. He doesn’t look good.”

  “On my way.”

  She dropped the phone into the cradle and ran out of her office and down the hall, calling for Beth.

  “Yeah?”

  Heidi spun around as Beth came out of an examining room. “Put that rat in a cage. We got something big to go see.” Excitement coursed through her, and she couldn’t contain it. “Come on, hurry. And grab your tranq gun.” She rushed into another room, unlocked a drawer with the key she pulled from her pocket and grabbed a variety of bandages.

  Beth met her in the hallway, tranq gun in one hand and several red-and-white tipped darts in the other. “What is it?”

  “Whatever it is, it doesn’t belong in our woods,” Heidi said with a giddy laugh as she led the way through the lobby. “Mrs. Blake, please cancel my appointments for the rest of the day and reschedule what you can. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”

  She didn’t wait for a response but jogged outside to her Land Rover. Having planned to go four-wheeling after work, she’d lucked out—her ATV was already on the trailer attached to the SUV.

  She sure hoped Ritchie wasn’t wrong about the cat. A black cougar... “This might be your big break, Beth.”

  “Tell me!”

  Heidi laughed and her tires threw up some gravel as she squealed onto the highway to her fathers’ property. “Ritchie thinks he’s shot a black cougar.”

  Beth’s mouth drop open. “That’s...impossible.”

  “I know. But still, it’s worth checking out. He obviously shot something, and if it’s not a bear...”

  They reached Ritchie and his brother Dave in less than the fifteen minutes she’d promised. Heidi killed the ATV’s engine, and she and Beth jumped off at a dead run up the short hill.

  “Glad you made it,” Ritchie said. “It’s right over there.”

  “Oh...my...God...” Beth stopped beside Heidi, who stared at the massive cat sprawled on the pine needle–covered ground not ten feet away.

  Definitely not a bear, although it was as big as some bears she’d seen in Washington. Its side rose and fell with fast, shallow breaths, but it looked unconscious. Though Heidi wasn’t willing to get too close until she was certain.

  “That’s not a cougar,” she said, her breathing a little hard.

  “It’s not?” Ritchie asked.

  Heidi shook her head, but didn’t respond further. The jaguar seemed to awaken at the sounds of their arrival. It began to struggle weakly, growl and hiss. Relieved to see it still had some fight left, she glanced at Beth and nodded.

  Beth loaded a tranquilizer dart into the gun and took aim. “That cat does not belong in the Wenatchee Forest.”

  Heidi believed her. Beth was the resident expert, having just finished her Ph.D. dissertation on big cat genetics. Beyond typical family pets, Heidi knew everything there was to know about cougars, bears, wolves and even coyotes, but beyond simple recognition, anything that lived outside of the Pacific Northwest was beyond her specialty or concern.

  She glanced at Ritchie. “You really mistook that for a bear?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s got black fur. And it grunted like one.” He looked a little sheepish, his cheeks turning pink. “You gotta admit it’s bigger than any cat I’ve ever seen ’round here.”

  “Go ahead, Beth. Tranq it. We’ve got to get it back to the clinic ASAP.”

  Beth shot the dart into the cat’s shoulder. The cat flinched and growled, letting them know it was definitely still alive and pissed off. They waited a few minutes for the drug to take effect. After checking the cat’s heartbeat, Heidi went to work bandaging the wound on its right hindquarter to stem the blood and discovered the bullet had passed through the leg.

  Beth was there with her, helping her reposition him when needed. This cat was bigger than her brothers. A good fifty pounds, at least. And her brothers in catamount form were larger than the average cougar.

  “He might need surgery if the bullet hit the bone.”

  “I’m really sorry,” Ritchie said, still standing next to his younger brother. “I hope he’ll be okay. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  “You did right,” Heidi assured him. “He’s probably broken free of some private owner, or maybe even a zoo. He’s in too good of shape to have lived out here long.”

  “Okay, boys. You’re going to have to help us get this big guy on the ATV,” Beth said. “I’ll bring it up the hill.”

  Heidi nodded and sat back on her heels. This cat was gorgeous. She ran her hands over his silky coat, softer than a cougar’s. Black, but not solid, its spots plainly seen in the sunlight. No, not spots, rosettes they were called. Spots inside spots. Almost the same markings as African leopards.

  “Damn,” she muttered. She’d have to call around to see if they could figure out from where this big guy escaped.

  Beth pulled the ATV up next to the cat, and it took all four of them to drape the unconscious feline over the back of it. He was huge, heavy, well over two hundred pounds.

  “We’ll put him on the ATV trailer. Ritchie, I want you to take the ATV to my dad’s house and leave it in the backyard when we’re done.”

  Ritchie nodded.

  “I’m going to take it slow, but I need you two—” she pointed to Beth and Ritchie, “—to make sure he doesn’t start sliding off.”

  It was slow going as she maneuvered the ATV back the way they’d come, but they made it easy enough. And although it was a bit unnerving to have a wild predator within reach, Heidi reminded herself that Beth’s tranquilizers were potent enough to keep the cat out for quite a while, plenty of time to get the big guy back to the clinic and safely ensconced inside a cage.

  * * *

  Leavenworth Veterinary Clinic was housed in a small, converted log home. Heidi backed the trailer into the garage, which also served as a kennel. A chain link cage, with a couple of doggy doors to the fenced backyard, took up the back wall.

  Paco, the ten-year-old cockatoo being boarded by an elderly couple on vacation, squawked at her when she jumped out of the Land Rover.

  “Later, Pac.” She bypassed his mesh cage near the door to the clinic and grabbed the hand truck from the storage area in front of the kennel. With a lot of grunting on both women’s parts, they got the jaguar transferred to the hand truck and into the operating room.

  “We can’t get him onto the table by ourselves,” Beth said.

  “I’m worried about that wound.” Heidi headed to the sink to scrub up. “Look at the blood on the bandage. I’m going to have to do it right here.”

  “Are we putting him in the kennel after we’re done?”

  “Only place big enough for him.”

  Beth shook her head, a wrinkle appearing between her brows. “He’s going to be mad, and a pissed off jaguar is the most dangerous of the big cats. They’ve got horrible tempers. You think the kennel is strong enough to hold him?”

  Heidi hadn’t known that about jaguars. She was going to have to do some reading up on them.

  “Doctor Falke?” Mrs. Blake said, knocking on the doorframe. “Oh... Oh, my. What is that?”

  “A very large feline patient.” Heidi adjusted the seat of her rolling stool as low as it would go.

 
; “It’s beautiful.”

  “Yes, he is,” Beth said with appreciation, running her hand over the cat’s humongous head.

  “Mrs. Blake, would you please put the list of Washington zoos and private large animal sanctuaries on my desk? We’re going to have to find out where he’s from.”

  “Of course. May I?” The receptionist motioned toward the jaguar.

  “Sure. Better do it now while he’s still out.”

  Mrs. Blake took a few tentative steps and reached out her hand, touching his ear, his nose, the thick fur at the nape of its neck. “He’s much softer than Falke.”

  Heidi smiled. He was much softer than any of her brothers in catamount form as Falke. The family “pet” had become the unofficial town mascot, a four-legged celebrity. She’d grown up with six shape-shifting brothers in all and, though she’d envied them that ability over the years, always believed they were stunning in their cougar form.

  Sorry, brothers, she thought now, you guys don’t hold a candle to this big boy.

  The cat took a deep breath, and Mrs. Blake jumped back. Heidi was right there with a syringe to keep him knocked out so she could perform the minor surgery.

  “I best go see to that list,” the receptionist said with a nervous chuckle before departing.

  “I’m going to draw his blood and run it through the computer.” Big cat genetics was where Beth’s heart lay. She was an asset at the clinic, an expert most rural vets couldn’t afford, not to mention the best assistant Heidi could ever hope for. Though she’d put her career on hold for a while—or maybe indefinitely for all Heidi knew—Beth still kept up her research, gathering data wherever she could. And this jaguar offered an opportunity she couldn’t refuse. “Then I’ll go sterilize the kennel and get it ready. Unless you need me in here.”

  “Naw, it’s pretty routine, but thanks.” Heidi rewashed her hands, pulled on latex gloves and leaned over her patient.

  After she cleaned out the wounds, both entrance and exit, and stitched everything up, she x-rayed the leg. Her suspicion had been right. The path of the bullet had caused a fracture in the cat’s femur, not bad enough to require pins or a rod, but severe enough to require a cast for it to mend properly.

  “Bet you aren’t going to like this,” she murmured to the unconscious jaguar as she prepared the materials she’d need.

  Beth rejoined her shortly after Heidi finished wrapping the plaster cast.

  “Poor baby.” Her sister-in-law petted the jaguar’s head. “It’s a good thing the shooter was Ritchie and not some hunter from outside the area.”

  “Agreed. The kennel ready?”

  “Yes. We’ll have to use a padlock though. When he comes to, he’ll probably try to do anything he can to escape.”

  “Unless he’s someone’s pet. He might be happy to get a good meal.”

  Beth rolled her eyes. “People keeping wild cats as pets...”

  Heidi laughed as they joined forces to push the rolling cart into the garage. Before Beth found out that Falke, the cougar, wasn’t really the family pet, she’d made her feelings clear regarding humans who thought they could domesticate wild animals.

  Paco squawked at them then made a rude wolf whistle when they bent over to maneuver the jaguar off the cart.

  “I swear that bird has the worst manners,” Beth said.

  “Hey, he’s male. Stands to reason he’d appreciate a pair of fine asses.” Heidi chuckled. “Would you get the biggest water dish we’ve got and fill it up? This fella’s going to be thirsty when he comes out of sedation.”

  Beth left the room, and Heidi sat back on her heels to pet the jaguar’s head again. “It’s not the Ritz, big guy, but it’ll have to do until we can find where you belong.”

  A short time later, the sound of Beth’s footsteps announced her return, but they stopped short of Heidi and her furry patient.

  “We’ve got a problem.”

  Chapter Two

  The sun beat down on his head as Isabela rushed around the front of the car to come to his aid. She thought he was still as weak as a newborn kitten, and he let her believe so. Her black hair glistened in the sunlight, her eyes so dark he’d been lost in them since he awoke in the hospital bed, bruised and bandaged, unsure of what had happened to him.

  “Let me help you, Javier,” she said, her voice as soothing as her touch. “You try too hard to push too much. You must let your body mend.”

  She’d been saying that to him for the past four days. When he told her he was checking himself out of the military hospital despite recommendations to the contrary, she’d protested and tried vehemently to change his mind. When that hadn’t worked, she’d demanded he let her drive him home and at least help get him settled.

  Her unorthodox insistence might’ve surprised a few at the hospital, but he’d known she would. He’d counted on it. From the moment he opened his eyes and saw hers, there’d been a mutual, undeniable attraction. He’d known she was his, and in turn, his brother’s. Although Juan had yet to meet her. It might require time and patience, but they would claim her as their own.

  Javier allowed Isabela to believe his bones were still broken, that the pain was unbearable. It would be for a normal human, but the Montero brothers were not normal. There had been pain, a lot of it the first two days after the chopper crash. Excruciating pain as his bones knitted together, repairing themselves. Today, not so bad. In another week or so, he’d be as good as new, reason enough why he’d needed to get out of the hospital—before the doctors realized he was healing too fast and called for tests.

  Tests he could not allow. Only his self-appointed caregiver—and soon-to-be mate—would become privy to his family’s secret...in time.

  For now, he would isolate himself in his home and wait out the medical leave the army demanded, then get a release in the prescribed six weeks so he could return to active duty.

  The door to the house opened as they stepped onto the front stoop.

  “So, you’re the angel who put my brother back together?” Juan asked with a smile that had made other women swoon.

  Isabela glanced from Juan to Javier and back. “I am seeing double.”

  “Isabela, my love.” Javier wrapped his arm around her in a much more intimate hold, showing her he didn’t need her physical support to stand. “This is my brother, Juan. He’s prepared supper for us.”

  She turned her head to stare at him, then raised an eyebrow at the same time her lips curled into a sensual, seductive smile. “You planned this.”

  “We have much planned for you. Do not disappoint us.”

  Her nostrils flared, and her pupils dilated. “I think you should be the ones who must not disappoint me.”

  * * *

  Javier slowly came awake with the memory of Isabela’s impudent grin playing in his mind’s eye, an ache in his heart and a rage boiling deep in his gut.

  His limbs were too heavy to move. His heart thudded in his ears and echoed a piercing pain in his thigh. His throat was dry, his nose filled with the pungent scent of bleach and antiseptic.

  “He’s waking up,” a female voice, soft and unfamiliar, whispered.

  “If he’s like Kelan, it’ll take a few minutes for him to gain his senses,” a different woman’s voice answered. “And if he’s like Kelan, he’s gonna be pissed.”

  Who was Kelan?

  Something rattled. Metal-on-metal.

  “He’s not going anywhere.”

  Where am I? In a hospital? That would account for the scent of astringent and the pain in his leg. Had he been in a car wreck?

  The last thing he remembered, he’d been speeding up Highway 2, heading for Seattle. He struggled to recall more, but a pounding headache hindered his effort, and he gave up with a painful shake of his head.

  He tried to move hi
s sore leg, and a growl ripped from him.

  “Hey there. You’re okay,” the first woman said.

  “You’re okay,” mimicked what sounded like a parrot, the harsh voice stabbing his throbbing skull.

  Without moving another muscle, he opened his eyes and stared at a blurry vision of two women on the other side of a fence. A door, he realized as his vision cleared, seeing the latch and the padlock that secured it. He let his gaze move from them to his environment. He was surrounded on three sides by chain link that reached the ceiling. He saw a garage door, two man-sized doors and a wire mesh cage holding a white, head-bobbing cockatoo.

  It looked as if he were in a dog pound, but that didn’t make any sense. He sucked in a lungful of air—

  A scent hit him, and he tensed, causing more pain in his leg and head.

  A shifter was nearby.

  Not Durchenko, though. This was a scent he hadn’t experienced before. Lighter, sweeter than the stinking snow leopard he’d been tracking for over two years. Another deep breath and he picked up more, a lingering fragrance of at least two others...fainter...not present, but definitely shifter in origin. Where there were shifters, there was danger. He snarled.

  “Knock it off,” the tawny-haired woman said. “I know what you are, so you can stop with the wild kingdom act.”

  She knew what he was?

  He didn’t move as he fought to regain his strength, to assess the damages to his body and any potential threat to him now.

  Where in hell was he and how had he gotten here in his cat?

  “Come on, talk to me. Tell me your name.” She poked her fingers through the links to grasp the fence. “I know you can.”

  Joder! He’d been captured. But by whom? Did the women really know what he was?

  And where was the origin of that damn scent? A shifter was near. The sweet scent was far too strong to be residual. He scanned his surroundings again, finding only the two women peering curiously back at him from the other side of a goddamn fence.

  He hated cages. A growl of frustration rumbled from his chest.

  The petite talker frowned at him. “I know you’re in pain and angry. That’s obvious, but I can help you whether you believe it or not. So are you gonna tell me your name?”