I didn’t say anything.
He kissed the back of my hand and released it. “It kills me sometimes, thinking about what they could have been. What they should have been.”
“It was their decision,” I whispered. “You can’t save everyone.”
“No.” He cocked his head to the side and smiled. “But I can sure try.”
I looked at the tree. Thick, ancient trunk more than a foot in diameter. The old man of the park, the guardian watching over the willows, the maples and the bushes.
“I’m going to head over there, get up on a branch and wait. If the kids show up, great. If not I’ll have a nice view of the park.” I stood up and brushed off the back of my coat. “I don’t think they’ll just wander over to check us out if we keep sitting here.”
“Since I have the climbing skills of an elephant I’ll pass on that and hang out, do a walk along the paths.” Bran dipped his hand in the slow running water. “Maybe see if any of the old crew might still be around. After seeing Angie—”
I flinched inside at the sadness in his voice. I might not have had his experience in dealing with street kids but five years was a lifetime and it’d be a miracle for anyone in his original article to still be around.
I hesitated just long enough to tweak his attention back to me.
“Go.” He slapped my butt. “I’ll be fine down here. Be careful and if you feel sick or dizzy sing out and I’ll be over there in a second.”
I strolled toward the tree. The thick bushes on each side were perfect for an ambush. It was a great place to be if you didn’t want to be noticed.
I sniffed the air, taking in the deep earthy smells. So different from the usual city scents clogging up my mind.
It took me a few tries to get up the tree and I could have sworn I heard a guffaw or two from Bran but I finally got up onto the first branch. From there it was easy to climb higher and higher, the dense leaves hiding me from anyone casually walking by.
Bran gave me a wave and strolled off.
I stretched out on a long large branch, letting my duster hang down and partially camouflage me. My ears were buzzing and I was pushing myself by being so active after being clocked by the Chandler enforcer.
Still, there were worse ways of spending some time at night.
And better ones. My hand drifted to my left shoulder and dug under the black T-shirt to caress the newest love bite Bran had given me.
I pressed my face against the rough bark, inhaling the rich smells. It was easy to forget I was in the middle of a city and imagine I was back on the farm enjoying a lazy night out under the full moon.
An hour passed then two. I shifted my legs, straddling the branch as I fought the threatening cramps. I was getting too old to sleep in trees and right now my comfortable mattress called with a siren’s voice.
The wind shifted and brought me the scent of Felis.
More than one.
More than two.
More than three.
I resisted the urge to sigh. I hadn’t even tried to lose the enforcers knowing it’d waste time I didn’t have—not to mention the bastards had way more experience that I did on hiding, prowling and doing whatever their masters asked. The only hope I had was to outwit them.
And in my present state that was going to be a wee bit hard.
The sound of boots scraping below me brought me out of my reverie. I looked down to see a pair of youngsters scrambling up the trunk as if they were born to it, giggling like fools. They reminded me of kits discovering the fun of scaling anything and everything with their claws.
There were a lot of scratched and mangled wooden posts at the farm. Ruth hadn’t even tried to replace them, pointing out that Felis babies needed to play and enjoy their claws and she wasn’t going to switch out the cribs and staircase railings every time a new baby was dropped off at the daycare.
Ruth died before her time, a victim of Felis politics.
I’d be damned if I wouldn’t at least try to get these two free of that particular part of their heritage.
Evan Chandler was being a gentleman, letting Lisa Middleston climb first. It didn’t escape me that it also gave him an excellent view of her butt. The dark-haired teenager let out a laugh as his claws extended between his knuckles, allowing him to dig into the tree and get a good grip, better than most humans would be able to get.
He shifted his shoulders, adjusting the backpack. A rolled-up sleeping bag at the bottom of the aluminum frame bounced against his butt. His guitar sat against the pack, tied down with bungee cords.
Lisa’s red hair stood out against the leaves as she approached me, her own claws whittling away at the bark. The two of them were focused on each other, whispering and giggling as they sprang up the tree at a faster pace than I had. She wore the backpack’s twin a bit better than Evan, the belt around her hips snug enough to avoid the frame smacking against her body.
The pair smelled of soap and a dash of perfume. They were clean and looked good despite the dark circles under their eyes.
I guessed you had to get used to sleeping in a tree.
They passed by me without a glance, headed for higher ground. The Felis in me wanted to smack them hard for not bothering to use their god-given senses and be more aware of their surroundings—if I were one of the enforcers I’d have them bagged and tagged in a few minutes, to say nothing about delivering a strong sermon about displaying their claws in public. But they were in love and ignoring everything other than each other.
I reached inside my duster to get my cell phone. A quick text message told Bran to come and keep an eye open. I couldn’t ask him to cut off their escape route. Two young Felis fleeing would bowl him over and send him flying, not to mention putting him between the enforcers and the kids in a brawl he couldn’t win.
He’d dispute this considering he’d bested an adult Felis a few months before in a challenge but Carson had been injured and concussed. And I didn’t need to see Bran disemboweled either by the hunters or their prey in a frantic battle in the park. Felis didn’t kill each other and tried as hard as possible to avoid hurting or killing humans but I didn’t put much stock in the philosophy at the moment, given I still felt like I’d been worked over by a herd of rampaging buffalos.
I didn’t wait for Bran’s answer before moving to the trunk and pulling myself up, following the trail.
Gritting my teeth I willed my claws to come out. My lack of control over my Felis change hadn’t gotten any better, the natural shifting to a full Felis still out of reach. I’d manifested my claws a handful of times under stress and a full change most recently when I’d been shot but I still sat at the level of a newborn kit, stumbling around in the dark.
Nothing shot out from between my knuckles, the hard sharp nails staying silent and hidden.
I sighed and rolled my shoulders, feeling the strained muscles as I grabbed the ragged bark trunk.
By the time I’d gotten up to the same level as the runaways they’d already begun setting up their sleeping area, oblivious to my arrival.
Another black mark on the kits’ record. If I could smell them they sure should have been able to scent me. They were so wrapped up in each other they’d forgotten to be alert and aware of their surroundings.
True love.
A dark blue tarp swung between two branches sprouting close to each other, the fork allowing Evan to tie down the plastic with bungie cords twisted right around the thick wood. Lisa pulled a thin blanket out of her backpack and laid it across to give them some protection from the harsh plastic.
She hummed a familiar hunting song, adding to the warped domesticity around her. Another blanket came out and was neatly folded into a makeshift pillow, wadded into one end of the hammock.