The chase was on.
Chapter Five
Monty swore under his breath as he stumbled over more crap in the cluttered cabin Dean should have cleaned out last month. Lazy-ass cat had a true gift for avoiding hard labor, though the ladies seemed to love him, and he constantly got away with pulling pranks any other Ac-taw would have been skinned for even trying.
Like pretending to be in love with Joy to make Gabby jealous? They’d all laughed it off. Fixing Grady’s cards on poker night so he’d have to dance to some stupid tune in front of Gabby? He’d been too easily forgiven. Convincing Ty to write Help Me on the bottom of a groom’s shoes on the guy’s wedding day, so that everyone could see when he knelt in front of the congregation? People still complimented Dean and Ty on the gag, and it had been Monty’s idea.
He swore again and righted himself as he stumbled over the firewood that should have been stacked behind the cabin. Instead it lay in a heap by the unused fireplace. Monty sneezed and took a good look around him. Set up high in the mountains away from everything, the cabin had the solitude he craved. A little polishing and the place would clean up nice.
Some rumbles and snarls filtered through the woods, and he moved to the side of a window, automatically bracing himself for danger. Old habits were hard to break, and the gun in his hand appeared as if by magic, because he hadn’t felt himself take it from the back of his jeans.
Monty reached out with his wolf senses and smelled cats on the wind. He opened his mind and heard the psychic speak of their kind, like the flutter of wings through the pure forest air.
“I told you, it’s this way.” Dean.
“I still don’t see anything.” That was Stacey Bermin. She had the husky voice of a sultry cat with the lethal attitude of a cobra about to strike. Pretty, but cold. Personally, Monty didn’t understand what his buddy saw in the woman, aside from her stunning looks.
Like her brother, she thought herself better than everyone in Cougar Falls. Though she’d been nice to Sophie, Monty’s favorite wolf in the world, he knew given enough time, Stacey would turn ugly. The minute she did, he’d show her why cats might be king of the mountain, but wolves ruled the forests of Montana. No one screwed with Sophie if he was around.
“Honey, you’re too busy looking at my ass to pay attention to where we’re going,” Dean sighed. “Don’t fret that pretty head. I’m in charge now.”
“God help us,” she muttered.
Monty had to grin as he tucked the gun away against the small of his back. The pair argued almost constantly. Yet Monty had always noticed his friend watching her walk away from each of their parries with more than annoyance on his face.
“He’s here. I can smell him,” Dean said in a low voice.
“Eau de dog,” Stacey huffed. “At least it’s not raining. I can’t abide wet dog smell. It lingers in the pores, you know.”
The little witch. Dean snickering didn’t make him feel any better, either.
When they moved through the open back door and didn’t even look guilty upon seeing his scowl, he fired back, “Well, well. The kitties in need of saving? Stacey, Dean. Nice to see you could make it without breaking a nail.” He included Dean in on that one, pleased when the cat exposed a fang and twitched his nose—the cat’s equivalent of giving him the finger.
“Yeah, yeah. Look. Lex’s cats have been spotted a half day south of us. And Quince, another cat, is here with two dozen others intending to take him out. A power struggle in our own woods.”
“Here?” Monty hadn’t seen them on his way, and he’d been looking.
“Here.” Dean’s whiskers flexed as he looked at Stacey, a gesture she returned. “Quince is apparently some rebel dickhead from Miami. He’s pledged Stacey his undying loyalty if she’ll play bait and lead Lex’s cats out here, away from the pride. The guy plans to take care of Lex himself.”
“Right.” Monty wasn’t buying it.
Stacey growled. “That’s not what he said. He isn’t interested in us. The Bermins, I mean.”
“Just Joy,” Dean snorted.
“He wants to get rid of Lex and take over the pride. I’d rather deal with Lex myself, if you want the truth. But I also want what’s best for the pride, and at this point, Quince is our best option. I’m willing to let him step in, at least for now.” She stood close to Dean, so that when they padded on their feet, they touched. Their connection practically lit up the entire room. The scent of two cats in tune, their scents nearly close enough to be mated, swept over Monty’s enhanced senses. The body language couldn’t be ignored either. The cats leaned toward each other, and he could all but see them curling their tails together.
Christ, just what they needed. Pride trouble, Dean and Stacey hooking up and the eventual fallout when Miles found out and Burke recovered from a massive coronary. Life in the pride was never dull. Fun, confusing and always something to talk about, but not boring.
Monty couldn’t wait to get back and share his news with Joel and Grady. He’d put a hundred down on Dean wooing Stacey by summer’s end. The cat had apparently worked his magic, to the benefit of Monty’s wallet. Maybe he’d cut Dean in on a few bucks. Besides, he was fun to tease. Unlike his brothers, he didn’t yell or lash out. He got even in other ways, and it was a constant challenge to stay a step ahead of him.
Would that Monty could be so carefree. “What else, Stacey?”
She explained what she knew.
“So that’s it? Quince, two dozen of his cats, Lex and more cats?”
She didn’t answer right away, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Monty could almost smell the trouble coming for them.
Dean rubbed his head against hers. “It’s okay, Stace. We’ll take care of this. Don’t worry.”
She didn’t tell him to add a Y to the end of her name, the way she usually did, and right then, Monty saw Dean’s future like writing on the wall. He started to laugh. “You are so gone it’s pathetic.”
“Not another word, wolf.” Dean lunged, grabbed Monty by the arm with his teeth and dragged him to the back door of the cabin before letting go. “Stacey, stay here. I need to talk to Monty for a minute. Don’t worry. He’ll play ball.”
“He’d better.” Stacey shook her head, sat and began cleaning herself. “Friggin’ canine.”
Monty deserved a little fun. Especially after being forced to leave Sophie behind in town, at the mercy of the chaotic wolf order. The damn gray wolves had been sniffing in her direction lately, and he didn’t like it. But was he back home, taking care of his…ah…friend? The hottest she-wolf he’d seen in ages? Nooo.
Once outside and away from Stacey, Dean changed back to his man’s form.
Monty bared his teeth at Dean in a parody of a smile. “So you banged Princess Kitty, eh? Didn’t think you had it in you, hillbilly.”
Dean swore. “Fuck off, Monty. I didn’t bang anyone.”
The annoyance on Dean’s face was worth the fist Monty was surely going to take. Usually Dean rolled with whatever female wanted some action, joked about it later—with said female—and didn’t let anything ruin his good mood. Dean Chastell had to be one of the mellowest, most fun-loving cats Monty had ever met.