Pussy Cat Pussy Cat - 1. Chapter 1

I’m so excited. My heart is pounding and my senses are so acute they are throbbing: the flashing lights; the heat; the smells of burning and fear. I love it. I think this might be my favourite thing about being with Sar, well apart from the sex of course; that’s so good I can’t even think about it without getting... well...tight. Nope... not a good idea to think of that right now. Concentrate Glory; it’s almost time.

I don’t understand why Sar makes me wait until they’ve secured the site. I can fight as well as any of them; better than some. Not the weres of course; they are super strong and super brave, but I am easily as strong as Pixie and I can fly better; although he denies it. One of these days I am going to have to prove him wrong.

Cat is spitting and yanking at the leash but I hold him back. Sar will freak if he sees me down there before he calls me. Fey is pouting and vamp is nursing his hurt pride; it is the human part of me which is being all sensible and holding the rest of us back, telling us that Sar is right to be concerned. It isn’t even just that he is so protective of me. My experience with the circus has made me incapable of logical thought or restraint when it involves one.

The first time Sar let me go with him when the Council raided a circus did not end well. All three of my non-human natures went blood crazy and Sar had to knock me unconscious to stop me tearing the throat out of one of the bounty hunters... well to stop me tearing any more of the throat out of him. Although Cat is generally a comfort whore, his claws come in handy sometimes.

I can’t believe I have been with Sar for six months. I have never been happier. Who would have thought that a pathetic little Damphir who had been on the run for the whole of his life would end up bonded to one of the most influential vampires in the four worlds? Not only that but I turned out not to be a Damphir after all, but some mad arse legendary creature thing that has the Council on its head and the whole free world discussing and obsessing over.

Hold it together, Glory. You really don’t want to think about that right now. You don’t need to go into this already scared and freaked. Thank the gods that Sar has been handling the fallout; dealing with the Council and all the researchers and scientists who want to study me. Oh God; I can’t control the shudder. All my natures except vamp are feeling, well, nauseous. After 18 years of terror; scared out of my mind about what the scientists might do to me if they got their hands on me it makes me sick just to think about it even though Sar promises me, after the screaming nightmares, that he will never let anyone hurt me again.

I believe him. I really do believe him but some things are so... stuck inside you that it’s hard to get them out. It’s easy to believe, when I’m lying in his arms, warm and comfortable and safe while he’s blissing out Cat. It’s not so easy when I am all alone and it’s cold and dark and I can still feel the bounty hunters’ breath on the back of my neck.

It’s all happened so quickly that my head is still spinning. To be honest, I don’t really care about any of it. Mmm, time for a nice little daydream about me and Sar. He smells so good and his hands... Cat is purring; I can't help it. Cat doesn’t need much of an excuse to start purring, and thinking of Sar in the sack is certainly some excuse.

“Glory.”

What...? Who...? Oh. “Sorry Pixie, I got distracted.”

“Yeah... and I bet I can guess what was distracting you.” He still has a tendency to be smug and I still have a tendency to get annoyed by it.

“Not getting jealous again are you, Pixie? I would have thought that now you had your own piece of arse you would have stopped obsessing about mine.”

Fortunately Pixie has now developed a sense of humour, or at least learned to understand mine.

“It wasn't your arse I was looking at,” he grins, his eyes lingering on my crotch. Oops.

I can feel the blush rising, right to the tip of my ears. Traitorous appendages! They are elongating to allow the blush more scope to spread. Biting my lip I grin coyly at him through my hair, which is hanging free to fall over my face.

“Don’t you start that with me; hussy,” Pixie says lightly, with a smile on his face. “Sar wants you down below. There’s something he wants your help with.”

Sar needs me? It isn’t often that Sar needs my help with anything. I sometimes get the feeling that he lets me get involved with things just to humour me. My stomach tenses. If Sar needs me so much he’s sent Pixie to get me there is definitely serious shit going down.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s one of the captives. We were checking the cages and he just told me to get you as quick as I could.”

The valley is full of smoke but I know what is underneath it – a circus. God I hate circuses. I’ve been involved with them twice now; both times as an exhibit. Oh, here comes the nausea again. Just thinking about it makes me so scared, even though I’m not a captive this time. Usually, the only thing that can overcome the fear is anger which is why Sar makes me stay somewhere safe, away from the action. I get dangerously out of control. I am feeling out of control right now. The smells coming up on the thick smoke are not doing much to make me feel stable.

Don’t think about it, Glory. Don’t think about the fear; about the way people look at you; the way they leer and touch: their smell, the stench of their breath. Thinking about it makes me so angry and... embarrassed. And my experience with the circus wasn’t nearly as bad as some. The first time I was really young; too young to be a proper exhibit and I escaped in a few days; and the second time I was so drugged I don’t really have any clear memories of it. One thing I do have though is a disgust and hatred of them; everything they stand for and particularly the dogs who run and stock them.

Circuses are evil, and technically illegal. Although, before Sar went on his crusade, no one had done anything about them for so long they became an established, if underground, part of our society. They are horrible. The exhibits are freaks and outcasts: Damphirs; exotic fey; deformed or rabid weres; feral vampires, even humans. They are cared for to a greater or lesser extent depending on the circus and either put on display in cages or made to ‘perform’ acts, usually sexual, for the audience.

It still hurts. It hurts a lot. Not what happened to me at the circus but how I was sold out by someone who lived under the same roof; who should have been a friend. Not that I had ever considered Valentine a friend. He had always been a prick to me. He was the one who turned Pixie and the others against me too. Life is a lot better since he’s gone.

I feel sick as I look through the oily black smoke at the glowing lights of fires. Sar always burns everything so that no one can find anything they can use again. He tries not to kill anyone because he prefers to be able to take them before the Council and have proper justice meted out. That way there can be compensation for the victims. Not that there can ever be enough compensation to make up for what was done to them.

If I stay here any longer I am going to be physically sick. This happens to me every time I get near a circus. It’s almost as if I go into shock and usually the only way I can shake myself out of it is either to let Cat off his leash or have Vamp bring his cold anger down on anyone or anything that gets in our way; but this time I let human take the lead.

“Okay, fly down and I’ll follow you.”

I’m so happy that Fougue managed to get these shirts made. They have fastenings at the back which let my wings out without ripping off the whole thing. It hurts when I manifest my wings with anything too heavy on. They manage to get out but it hurts. I don’t understand how Pixie and Faith manage to survive wearing little more than a few scraps of cloth and a lot of net curtains. I would freeze to death; although maybe that’s just Cat talking. Cat likes to be warm.

It’s easy to fly down into the valley. To be honest I’m not actually flying at all: I’m floating; using the rising air currents to buoy me and then glide like Falon taught me. I like Falon. I can’t understand why so many people don’t. It’s not that they don’t like him; they’re afraid of him. I suppose he can be a bit intimidating; being a were eagle and all... but he’s never been anything but kind to me and he’s taught me a lot about flying. Pixie is crap at it; teaching that is, not flying: he has absolutely no patience.

Shit. I’m going to have to stop daydreaming when I fly. I almost overshot and went face first into a blazing trailer. As it is, I have to scoot backwards from the intense heat. It’s hard to see through the smoke and I can't smell anything but smoke and burning wood. Where the hell is he?

“Glory!”

He’s close. Using his voice as a compass Vamp has no trouble orienting on it and, quite suddenly, three figures materialise out of the smoke.

Immediately I am in defence mode, which is only a hair’s breadth from attack mode. “Glory,” a voice says softly and I relax. Well, I didn’t know who it was did I? Just because Sar’s voice came from this direction didn’t mean that the figures coming from it were anything to do with him; in fact they could have been hunters driven this way by him. I really, really am going to have to pay more attention.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asks in a concerned voice. I have to grin. He’s as protective as Sar.

“I’m fine, Rover; just thinking.”

“Well stop thinking and hurry up. We’ve got an issue.”

“An issue? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Only a few steps into the mist it clears, eddying around a trailer with a series of cages stretched out along its length. Most of the cages are already open but the one Sar is standing in front of isn’t.

I wonder how Sar manages to get the smoke to clear wherever he is. It isn’t something that my Vamp can do. I’ll have to remember to ask him later.

Sar motions to me to come closer. From his voice and actions I know that he wants me to take it slowly and carefully. Is there something really vicious in that cage? Why would he want my help with that? They have dart guns for the dangerous ones.

When I get close enough Sar wraps one arm around me and pulls me into his side, kissing the top of my head. I look into his eyes and turn liquid. I raise my face to kiss him but, after the briefest brush of his lips he pulls away. “Later,” he whispers, “right now we have a problem.”

That’s not fair. All I wanted was a kiss. He could have given me a better one.

“Glory,” Sar says with a laugh in his voice.

“What?”

“Stop being petulant and listen to me.”

“I’m not petulant,” I snap. How dare he suggest it! “And I am listening.”

“What did I say then?” he smirks. I hit him. Smug bastard.

The smile disappears from Sar’s face. “I can’t get through to this one, Glory. He’s too shocked and scared. I think he might have been here a long time. I don’t think he realises we’re here to help him.”

“What can I do?”

“He’s a cat, so I was hoping that he would relate to you.”

“A cat?” I wonder what a were cat is doing in a circus. That is so against the law that I would have thought that even a circus would have shied away. And who would pay to see something you can see every day on the streets.

“Yes.” Sar hesitates, then puts his hand on my arm. Uh Oh, what’s coming? “He’s Damphir, Glory.”

“Oh shit.” Now that is something that would make people come. Damphir are rare, live ones I mean; mature ones even more so. I don’t know why society has such a problem with us... them. They can quite easily accept mixed races when those races are fey, human and were... but throw a vamp into the mix and suddenly we... they’re fair game for anyone who wants to hunt them down and either kill them or sell them to circuses. It’s so bloody unfair. That’s why there aren’t many mature Damphir... most of them are killed while they are too young to defend themselves. Bastards. I kick the wheel of the trailer. Ow. I hurt my foot; but it was worth it.

“Easy, Glory. I know how you feel, but....”

“Like hell you know how I feel.” It’s irrational I know, this sudden urge to go for the throat; but I really don’t think he does know what it feels like to be less than an animal; always looking over your shoulder with everything and everyone a threat. And it’s people like him... bloody vampires who... Take a breath Glory; and another one. None of this is Sar’s fault. He is trying his best to change it.

“Take it easy, Glory.”

“I AM taking it easy. Just let me in the bloody cage.”

Sar grabs my arm and swings me away. His face is angry. Fuck. Dammit, I flinched, I drew back. There is no way THAT is going to happen. He can be as angry and he wants and I am not going to...

“Glory,” he says softly, his face changing from angry to incredibly sad. “You can’t go in there angry. Didn't you hear what I said? The boy is scared half to death. If you can't get through to him then we are either going to have to drag him out of there or tranq him and I don’t want to do either.”

Fuck, now I feel like a complete shit. “Sorry Sar. You know how I feel about places like this. I suppose it all makes me a bit unreasonable.”

“We’ll talk about your questionable interpretation of ‘a bit’ later on. For now, please take it gently.”

“I will.”

The inside of the cage is dark. Only one side has bars; the other three are solid and windowless, apart from the one with the door. The only light is coming through the bars; filtered through the smoke. I can just about make out a figure crouched in the corner, its face turned in to the wall.

There is just about room to stand but he might be scared if I loom over him: better to crawl.

“Hello,” I say softly and carefully. “My name is Glory. I’m a cat too. Can you smell me?”

The boy turns his face towards me. All I can see is a pale oval face in a mass of hair that looks dark but could be any colour. He sniffs carefully and nods, a quick sharp nod.

“Can you smell anything else?”

He sniffs again and his eyes, two dark pools in the paleness of his face, widen. He shakes his head. He’s not saying ‘no’ he’s saying he doesn’t believe.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be afraid of me. I’m like you and I can take you somewhere safe.”

He shakes his head again. Why? “Don’t you want to be safe? Don’t you want to be free?”

Again he shakes his head. “Home,” he whispers.

“We can take you home. You can stay with us until we find you a place to live.”

“Huh; home,” he repeats sadly, turning his head away.

Gods I can be stupid. I wonder if he’ll let me get closer. Although he draws further into the corner, in a gesture I know very well: Cat likes to keep walls on both sides if he’s threatened; he doesn’t really object. Finally I can reach out and touch him. He jerks away but I think that’s just because he’s startled.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to be scared. My name is Glory. Will you tell me your name?”

Very slowly the boy turns his head again and blinks at me. His face is very dirty, smudged with smoke but it’s clean underneath. The tumble of hair; that I had thought was matted and dirty, but can now see is braided with scraps of rag and feathers; is clean and smells sweet. This boy has been looked after. I wonder why.

“Your name?” I repeat.

The boy shakes his head and I have to admit that I am getting frustrated with him. I have a quick temper and it’s hard to keep it under control sometimes. Okay; think about how you felt when you woke in Sar’s house, Glory. Remember how scared you were. Remember when you were in the circus. Oops, too far. Well, it gets rid of my anger but what it is replaced with is horror.

The longest I have been an attraction at a circus is about four months. I say ‘about’ because I was too out of it to be much aware of the passing of time. Thanks to my fey side I have a place on my back, just where the wings come out; it’s called an aripa caz and when stroked it gives me an automatic erection. It can make me orgasm without anyone touching any other part of me. Add to that the fact that Cat drops me into a semi-conscious state that I call ‘the bliss’ whenever his ears or belly are caressed, I put on a good show. My skin crawls at the thought of it.

“I know what it’s like for you. I was here myself... not here in this circus but in one very like it.” I shudder deeply and I know he sees it. Tentatively he touches my hand.

“Damphir?” he asks as if I might hurt him for saying it.

At last; at least he’s talking to me. “Damphir,” I confirm, nodding.

The boy stares at me. I know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering how the hell I’m still alive. Oh well... nothing ventured; nothing gained. I turn my hand and gently take his. Well that’s a surprise – the palms of his hands, although mostly soft, are rough across the palms with something that feels like a worn place, as if he has been doing the same thing over and over. I wonder what it is.

Okay, well at least he hasn’t pulled away; that’s something right? His eyes are glittering but I don’t know if he’s crying or if it’s just the smoke. My eyes are stinging with it. So what the hell do I do now? Sar’s no help. When I look over my shoulder at him he simply nods. What does that mean? Gods I’m crap at this.

“Do you mind if I come a bit closer?”

His eyes narrow, at least I think they do. “Why?”

“I don’t know, to make a connection or something; to reassure you and get you to trust me. Oh fuck; I’m bad at this.” Shit. I said that out loud. “Ummm.” Bugger, I think I’ve made him cry. Oh; maybe not. I think he’s laughing...

“Yeah – you are; kind of.”

He has a nice voice; really nice, deep and warm but light at the same time. To be honest he doesn’t sound scared any more at all. Cat likes him but, strangely there is a sense of wariness, almost fear.

Encouraged, I move forward and sit next to him, my back against the wall. “Who are you?” he asks, turning his head towards me.

“No one.”

“No ones don’t take down circuses,” he replies dryly.

“Less than a year ago I was in one myself.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it.” I make a show of looking around; I know he’s watching me. “It wasn’t like this. I wasn’t in a cage with bars; the cage was in my head.”

There must be something in my voice that changes. I’m not surprised. I still can’t talk about that time without having strong feelings. I don’t have many memories of the time and what I have are scrambled. Ooooh... gods, it makes me tremble. Sometimes it’s frustrating not to be able to remember but sometimes I’m so glad that I was drugged, even though the drugs were slowly poisoning me.

Anyway... concentrate on the task before you, as Sar would say. The atmosphere seems to have warmed up but I’m afraid to say anything; just in case.

“So you’re Damphir,” he asks carefully but more conversationally. Is that a sign that he’s beginning to relax with me? Don’t take anything for granted now.

“Among other things.”

“You don’t smell like one.”

“What do I smell like?” I’ve always been curious about what I smell like. Cat can smell people really well, but of course I can’t smell myself and there isn’t anyone else like me out there to smell so I’m quite curious about what I smell like to others.

“I don’t know.” Oh great help there then. “I can smell cat, and there sure is vamp... I never miss that one, but... there is something else.”

“Yep, I am definitely something else. But I really am quite friendly even though I am crap at rescuing strange boys I find in cages.”

“Does it happen much?” So he has a sense of humour then; there is a hint of teasing and, despite everything I think I like him; even though Cat is still uneasy for some reason.

“You’d be surprised.”

Okay...careful now. Just casually let my hand fall to my side to rest on the floor almost in touching distance of his hand. Well, he was happy to hold my hand before. I find myself holding my breath. Just... just a little distance... and, touch our fingers. So, he doesn’t pull away. Let’s try... Cool, we’ve got our fingers laced together and he seems relaxed with it. He even responds to my squeeze. Steady now, don’t take anything for granted.

“So... you didn’t tell me your name. I can’t remember if I told you mine. I’m Glory.”

“Um... good name. I... um... I am... my name is... Felix.”

I can’t hold back the snort. “Oh great: Rover the wolf and Felix the cat.”

Felix tenses. “Wolf?”

“Were wolf, but it’s okay, he’s friendly.”

“You think?”

“Oh yeah, he’s a good fuck too.” Oh shit, I am really going to have to get that brain: mouth filter fixed. The atmosphere is suddenly so thick that if I had a knife I could cut it; and chilly, it is definitely chilly.

Felix begins to laugh. “Full of surprises aren’t you?”

“You have no idea. I suppose I should warn you; we’re a weird bunch: weres, fey, a vamp and even a human of two.”

“We?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t really want to launch into it here.”

Felix looks around. “No.” He sounds defeated and I really want to get him out of here. Hell, I really want to get out of here.

“Will you come out and give us a chance?”

“Is that vamp still there?” Aww... Felix is gripping my hand so hard I have to bite back a squeak. I don’t think he means to: he’s just so frightened. He’s scared stiff of Sar; vampires are not Damphirs’ best friends on account of that fact that mostly they are trying their very best to kill them.

“Yeah, but he’s friendly.”

“He... is?”

“He’s my bond mate.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No. That’s how I came to be here... there. I was being hunted. They would have caught me too, I was half dead, more than half dead. Then, suddenly he was there. Sar was there; he snatched me off the street.”

“Fuck. Werewolves and vamps. I... I never thought... It’s not as if... but...”

“I know; weird isn’t it? But I swear: I really swear that no one will hurt you.”

“So... this bonding thing... I’ve heard of it but never... Does it mean that he won’t...?”

“Felix, I’m not going to lie to you. Sar is a vamp; all vamp. He hasn’t gone soft on me; sometimes he still hurts me, but never because he... well sometimes because he... and we... Well, anyway; we’ve kind of settled down now and... It doesn’t mean that he’s ‘safe’ but... Look, he’s a member of the Council and he runs a safe house for people like us. He really cares. He’s strong and powerful and really vampire-ish but he won’t hurt you. Please come out – before the smoke kills me.”

I think he’s smiling but he doesn’t stop squeezing my hand.

“Ok,” he whispers.

“Promise you won’t run?”

“Ok,” he says again and slowly crawls after me, out of the cage.