Cougar Read online

  COUGAR

  By

  Skhye Moncrief

  © copyright by Skhye Moncrief, June 2011

  Cover Art by Eliza Black, June 2011

  ISBN 978-1-60394-501-1

  New Concepts Publishing

  Lake Park, GA 31636

  www.newconceptspublishing.com

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

  Chapter One

  Post-apocalyptic Earth: after alien invasion, AEI, 2064 AD

  Life has gone to Hell in two generations. Extraterrestrials altered the human genome, splitting humanity into two subspecies of humans, Shifters and Normals. Sometimes Shifters and Normals work together for survival in cities or remote villages. Other times they war for dominance. Regardless of the outcome, they must survive and fight against human enslavement. Hunted by aliens for breeding stock, Shifters understand this the most. Especially, Wolf males. But every once in a while, a female Shifter is born and her Cougar protected from detection because nobody knows what the aliens want with Cougars…

  * * * *

  The gangrene should have killed my half-brother yesterday, Jackal thought. My little brother, Rattler, would drop dead any minute. But Rattler had no intention of dying before he reached his mate. So, the others and I followed his ragged brown shirt with cut-off sleeves tucked into his black leather pants through the whispering forest on this last-ditch wild-goose chase of June. To the place Rattler lived the past eight years.

  In hiding.

  Eight damned years.

  We'd wondered where he was as he'd come and go to the village, to the clan, a time or two a year. But we never guessed he had a mate. Everyone just thought he'd lost his mind. Or went on a killing spree. Nobody could blame him for slipping into a rage with life on Earth gone to Hell once the aliens arrived. But hiding a mate? That was the last damned thing we expected.

  Not from him.

  He wasn't the type to turn down a challenge though. To feel forced into hiding.

  Rattler halted, his back to us. Shaking. Elbow jerking. Then, he stepped off again.

  Driven onward. Toward love.

  That's what he had secreted away.

  Because of the damned aliens. Because Shifter mates were targeted above all else for abduction.

  We should have guessed what he was up to. He was always so damned determined.

  "Up here," Rattler said over his shoulder without stopping.

  Demon shot me another one of his speculative looks.

  Like I knew what to expect from my baby brother. Rattler and I shared the same mother. But hell if there was any way I could make sense out of his behavior. We'd grown up together. He was the baby five years in my shadow. Actually my shadow until he hit fifteen. But his father never treated me like his own son, just a step-son, and we went our separate ways thereafter. I became his father's right-hand man. Present, yet distanced from Rattler, while Rattler wallowed in his father's favoritism. Then, I hit twenty and proved I could beat the best of the village Guardians. Earned the respect of a man who could enforce village rules among the Normals and Shifters.

  With that came rank and duty. Whereas Rattler just lived off the prestige of being the son of the village's clan leader. He could kick ass and kill with the best of them. But he didn't have to work at making something of himself with his built-in reputation inherited through birth. Rattler had it all in becoming the next clan leader. Until he mysteriously abandoned the village. The clan.

  Rattler veered toward a thick tree trunk.

  A tall ash.

  At the tree's base, he halted, slid his gaze up the trunk, wobbled, thrust his palms to his hips, and managed to steady himself. "Angel," he yelled almost a little hoarsely.

  The four of us stared up at the weathered wooden base of a tree house, with Rattler. Nothing moved at the rectangular doorway's tarp covering. Except a breeze making the tan cloth flutter. A perfect place to sleep with the aliens' blood-thirsty Bounders crawling across the forest floor, hunting down anyone foolish enough to dare venture out every night after curfew.

  "Angel?" Rattler yelled again, somehow managing to brace his rotting flesh, and waited for his mate.

  Movement flashed to his left set back deep within the wall of tree trunks forming the forest. First, a bit of bare arm slipped between tree trunks. Then, a leg covered in faded camouflage and a beige hiking boot. A swath of her honey-colored hair pulled back into a long sleek ponytail swung into view. Then, she burst fully into our line of sight, running.

  Silently. Like she was part of the woods.

  Rattler extended a hand. "Hurry, Angel."

  She was slim. About five foot six. Ample curves hidden beneath her olive-drab tank top.

  Her gaze locked onto Rattler like he magically appeared and would vanish as she gripped the weathered black strap of the large firearm, something a good sixty years old, looking of military issue by the two visible ends, thrown over her head and shoulder where the strap bit between her breasts.

  Damn. She had no idea her mate was about to die.

  Poor woman.

  For the need in her features.

  For my brother's desperation to save her before he collapsed and passed from the living into the promised world of the fortunate dead.

  "Come here, Angel," Rattler said calmly.

  Probably didn't want to spook her. The last thing I'd want to do is tell my mate I was dying. All the better reason for letting the other Guardians take on mates when the opportunity produced an unmated female. I'd give freedom a few more years to show me what life had to offer before taking on the responsibility.

  Angel crashed into Rattler with the gusto only a lover could display. He grabbed her, his foothold shifting. Undoubtedly from the pain. But he never let on he felt anything.

  He loved her. That's how Shifters mated. For life. Wholeheartedly. Irreversibly. Until one of them died and released the other from the bond. He loved her so completely that the clan's head, Rattler's sire, sent out half the village's best Guardians to bring back Rattler's mate.

  Rattler's body blocked our view of Angel. All but her hands where she threw them around his neck. He bent toward her.

  For a last kiss.

  Shit.

  I couldn't stomach this anymore.

  But I had to. For Rattler. Brothers owed each other favors throughout life. I'd be damned if I didn't hold steady to help his mate through the catastrophe awaiting her in a world where women needed men for protection. I ground my teeth and exhaled.

  Purging. Trying to keep a level head.

  She backed away, peering around his shoulder, at us with the palest blue eyes stretched into wide-eyed surprise. "What happened?" She shot him the same owl stare with her finely-carved features. "Who are they? They're Shifters. Do you know them?"

  "I need you to listen to me," Rattler began and turned a little to face us sideways, holding her by the upper arms as if to begin introductions.

  I guess, for starters, that's all you could say in this type of situation.

  She eyed him suspiciously.

  His knees buckled. His body fell forward, into hers, as he dropped.

  She grabbed him under his arms.

  He grunted, his pain magnified by her touch at his torso.

  "What happened?" she asked again, her brow furrowing. She knelt, pushing him at arm's length from her chest, watching him, fear stretching her mask. "John?"

  So Rattler told her the Christian name the villagers forced Shifter sires to give their sons. Insults to us who were deemed abominations by the Normals who feared our genetically-modified power. Especially Christians. Were these two truly mated? Did she know he was
a Shifter? Was this woman a Normal who despised Shifters only to learn now that she'd married the wrong type of man because he brought Guardians to her?

  Not Rattler. He wouldn't have hung on to return to her if he and Angel hadn't bonded with blood. Like Shifters.

  So, why did she use his Christian name?

  Rattler cupped one of her cheeks with a palm.

  "Don't send me away." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clutched him tight.

  Rattler flinched from her squeezing his rotting flesh beneath his shirt.

  She caught the motion, backed away, and ripped his shirt open where she could view his putrid abdomen. "No," she gasped the most pitiful sounding word I'd ever heard.

  I couldn't watch anymore. I turned to pretend I guarded our back, the indomitable forest, from the direction we'd arrived.

  She just kept crying no.

  Over and so god-damned over. Again. And again.

  "Promise me you'll go with them, Angel. My father says the clan will take care of you."

  Damn. Talk about the miserable truth. She'd have to come with us. Or Normals would drag her off for marriage, breeding, or worse, trade her into prostitution. That's the way of things since the aliens invaded and began jacking with the human genome.

  "No, John. I'll find the healer. She's not far. Wait here." She took a step toward the forest.

  He grabbed her arm. "That old woman can't help me now. It took everything in me to bring the Guardians here. You've got to promise me you'll go with them."

  She sniffed.

  "Promise, dammit," he growled.

  "I promise," she blurted. The response seemed more an effort to appease him than reflect her true intent.

  "I love you, Angel. Keep Black Betty close. Take the supplies. The clan will need them. Or trade them."

  Suddenly, you could have heard a whisper.

  "No, John. Don't leave me," she begged with crackling words.

  * * * *

  This can't be happening. Sierra knelt on the ground with her mate clutched to her chest. She could feel his heart beat. The recognizable scent of him, a familiar comforting aroma of campfire and leather that kept her warm in her bedding whenever he was gone hunting or trading. Even though his body rotted.

  Those gentle steel-blue eyes he always flashed at me, his stunning grin, all were absent in his attempt to save me from the isolation he brought upon me. He wanted me to leave the forest.

  To leave the little world he'd carved out of the wilderness to safeguard me.

  His palm trembled against my cheek. He calmly sighed and planted his soft velvet lips against mine.

  So damned warm.

  You can't die.

  He couldn't.

  "You promised," he said and closed his eyes.

  The warm breath whistled out of his parted lips.

  My heart split.

  Blinding tears smeared my view of my Shifter.

  I couldn't breathe.

  My John was gone.

  What did it matter where I went now?

  What I did?

  He was my life.

  My family was dead.

  Nobody else even knew I was alive.

  Except for these four males.

  What did they know about me?

  Other than my heart died on the forest floor with the light in John's eyes.

  The whispering scratch of fabric against fabric beckoned before I saw him kneel in my periphery.

  He was tall. The dark stubble on the top of his head and his six o'clock shadow told me his hair was darker than his brown eyes. John's brother? I blinked, looking back at John's square jaw.

  This Guardian was nothing like my John at all…

  "Angel, we can't stay long. We have to reach our vehicle by nightfall. Rattler, uh John, wanted us to hurry. For your sake."

  Who was the talker with the gentle words?

  And how could I leave John?

  How? I clutched John's heavy stiff body against my chest and slid my gaze over to the scuffed toe of the talker's combat boot, up his khaki bloused pants, up to his straight-lipped expression.

  I couldn't leave John.

  No.

  I couldn't.

  "I'm Demon, Angel," the talker said where he knelt beyond my periphery. "John and I have the same sire. Father wants me to bring you back to the clan. I need you to gather your things quickly. We have to leave now."

  The more I tried to open my mouth to say no, the more hot tears blurred my view, smearing the blank expression on John's face.

  "Please, Angel, we've got to leave before the Bounders start their night patrols."

  I couldn't leave my John.

  Not with the alien's creatures out to kill those foolish enough to ignore the sunset curfew. How could these Guardians think I could leave my mate? What was wrong with the fucking universe?

  "You promised him. He killed himself making the two days journey back here, Angel. Hold true to your word. For him."

  Demon's voice remained low and gentle.

  Persuasive?

  Maybe it was alright to leave?

  John told me to leave.

  To go with them.

  I had promised.

  The talkative Guardian skirted me.

  Was he going to do what he would with me now? Like all the others. Without John, I had no protection. Just a goddamned rifle and some ammo. All but the one thing John and my father made me swear never to reveal. My inner Cougar.

  Could my Cougar shifting ability save me now? Or damn me worse than the loss of my mate if I revealed I was one of the rarest creatures on the planet? Talk about irony of the Goddess. She would gift me something so powerful and taunt me with its dangerous use. Then slap me in the face with gang rape and the murder of my parents all to reiterate I damned sure better not use the power.

  Well, I could try to outrun the Guardians. Absolutely impossible in human form…

  They'll probably do what they will with me anyway.

  Maybe they'd just rape me and put a bullet through my head. Release my spirit from the tidal wave of grief barreling down upon my accursed bones.

  Hands gently grabbed me under my arms from behind and hefted me up to my feet. "Come now, Angel, we've got two hours before sunset. That's just enough time to reach the tank," he said softly.

  John's stiff body slipped away from me. Back to the grassy earth while my empty arms dangled at my sides.

  He can't be dead. Not my John.

  A hand nudged under my chin and lifted my gaze to meet those brown eyes. "I know you feel like you want to die. But John wants you to live. Do this for him, Angel."

  And be cursed.

  Hell, I promised. "My name is Sierra. Only he calls me Angel." I turned my chin out of Demon's grasp and stepped back twice. Away from them. Could they be trusted? John had brought them. I suppose I had to believe they were my Guardians.

  The four males, all with the shaved heads of Shifter Guardians, each wearing a mixture of camouflage, leather, and combat boots, studied me. The pity in their eyes spoke louder than my dying drumming heart.

  Maybe they weren't going to rape me.

  Why would they?

  John brought them here.

  John said they were his brothers.

  And I promised.

  * * * *

  Jackal watched the pale blue eyes of his brother's widow glint with pooling tears. But the tears had ceased flowing as if she realized what had happened. What must happen. She stared them down. Thinking, undoubtedly. I would. In a world where Shifter mates were hunted to use as bait to lure their mates into capture for exploit by aliens, a woman as beautiful as Sierra couldn't be too careful. She'd wind up on an alien spacecraft, heading for someplace far far away. Or traded for breeding or just for sex. That's why only a fool would risk mating. Risk his mate's life and the lives of his children. Especially after I'd watched my mother survive the pains of childbirth to lose four of the children she bore before they were old enough to have th
eir own children. I'd never put a woman through that torture.

  Sierra sighed, lifted the rifle strap over her head, and tossed her four-foot long black AR-15 rifle at Demon. "If you're planning on killing me, use this." She abruptly turned to the tree trunk, grabbed a length of rope coiled around the stump of what was left of a low branch, and shook out a rope ladder.

  She ignored us.

  Probably hoped we'd kill her.

  With all the horrible things that roaming packs of Normals did to Shifters and their mates, I couldn't blame her for uttering that fear. Hell, it was the best reason not to take a mate. Once you had a wife and children, the level of danger in your life of simple village Guardian elevated to nightmare. Anytime, your family could be stolen in an attempt to get you to pursue in a rescue attempt. And that often resulted in your own capture. Resulting in imprisonment on an alien spacecraft. Talk about a nice one-way trip off world.

  Sierra climbed up that ladder like it was the easiest thing she'd ever done.

  Demon shot me another one of his stoic how-in-the-hell-did-we-get-caught-up-in-this stares.

  Like I knew what to expect with this whole insane venture. He was in charge. He needed to make his own strategic assessment. I swear the man didn't want to take over the clan for his sire. Most Shifters would jump at the chance. Whatever Demon wanted was a mystery though. But one would think he wouldn't want to look like a fool in working toward his goal. Nobody dared call him on his actions other than his sire though. Still, a man had pride.

  "He's your half-brother," Demon muttered.

  "And yours. More so, you and he both got your sire's disposition. I was just gifted the sweetness of our mother."

  Demon snorted. "Killing machines are anything but sweet."

  "You only say that because I've kicked your ass more times than you can count." I guess we shouldn't be talking about trying to kill each other when our brother's widow could barely think due to her loss.

  The tarp door flap fluttered overhead.

  Sierra shoved the end of a large brown duffle bag through the rectangular doorway, and worked a rope, lowering the bag, hand over fist, to the ground at the base of the rope ladder.

  "Untie it," she ordered.

  Within minutes, she lowered a second duffle with a few steel firearm barrels sticking out where the zipper gaped. Then she sent down a heavy backpack before climbing down with two smaller packs and a guitar slung over her shoulder. She stepped off the ladder, turned to face us with the hardest mask I think I'd ever seen on a woman, and sucked in a deep breath. "I have to bury him."