Playing with Fire: Black Kat IV

Chapter 5

5

Main Safe House

St. Louis, Missouri

Kat bolted upright in bed, pain radiating from her chest. She placed a hand over her heart and gazed into the darkness, feeling disoriented.

Life-sized posters of Hugh and Dale stared back at her from the walls, making her jump before she returned to her senses.

She lay in Hugh’s living quarters at the St. Louis safe house, surrounded by his memorabilia and books. The furnishings reflected his penchant for luxury and elegance—plush rugs, fine fabrics, polished wood, sparkling crystal, gleaming metals. They all came together in a symphony of color, texture, and order. Tasteful yet distinctly masculine, like their owner.

She clutched her chest. The stabbing pain had returned, right where her old partner, Martin, had shot her.

Had something not healed right? She wasn’t sure. The pain ran deep.

Her cats swarmed around her, sensing her distress. The girls nuzzled her, two on each side. Paprika and Ginger on the left, Nutmeg and Cayenne on the right.

Kat smiled at them. “We’ve come a long way, babies.”

The safe house was far removed from the soup house she’d rescued them from in Chicago. Here they roamed the vast compound, earning their keep mousing, especially in the basement. The other Supers had welcomed their presence, though few seemed to keep pets.

Prince planted himself on top of her aching heart, laying his head there like Hugh had once done.

Her hand brushed the empty pillow beside her, anxiety rising in her breast. What had happened to him? Why wasn’t he here?

She closed her eyes and reached out into the darkness with her powers, trying to pinpoint his location, but there was only emptiness in the space where he should be. Even the other presences she could detect felt fuzzy to her, duller than usual. Her abilities seemed out of whack, along with her emotions.

Fear gripped her. What if she couldn’t find him?

Breathe, Kat told herself.

She gazed out the window and cuddled with her kitties for a while, then dressed and walked down to the cafeteria to grab a snack.

Jacob slept in a chair near the kitchen door, his upper body strewn across the table in front of him, snoring. A glass of milk and a half-eaten plate of gigantic chocolate chip cookies sat beside him.

Comfort food, she thought, and touched his reddish-gold hair. It didn’t sting as much as touching his skin did.

“You know, sleeping in a bed might be more cozy,” she chided, then swiped a large cookie from his plate and bit into it, sighing with pleasure. It was buttery and gooey and chocolaty and amazing. Just what she needed.

Jacob stirred and mumbled something.

“What?”

“Doctors can sleep anywhere.”

She nibbled at the cookie. “So can bounty hunters, but that doesn’t mean they should.”

“Yes, Mom,” he groaned and stretched.

She swatted his broad back. The man was sassy in his sleep.

You’re sassy all the time. He shot back and rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“About four in the morning. We’re either up really early or really late.”

“I’ll take early. Maybe it’ll give me a head start on all the s**t I have to do.” He ran his hands through his unruly hair and straightened his rumpled clothes.

She waved the cookie at him. “You’re starting to sound like your brother.”

“I’m beginning to realize how much he was doing. He shielded me from a lot. So did Hugh. I don’t know how he kept up with everything in his condition.”

The pain in her chest flared at the mention of his name.

Kat sat down beside Jacob. “Maybe he didn’t. He was self-medicating. A lot.”

So was she at the moment. She reached for another cookie. “So, what’s on the agenda today?”

“Patients, patients, and more patients, then a council meeting.”

Kat groaned. She was growing to loathe those already. “Tell me we’re actually doing something today, rather than just having meetings about meetings.”

She was far better on the streets than behind a desk or conference table. She was a woman of action, not words.

Jacob propped a hand under his chin and gave her a sleepy smile. “How about some breakfast later? Farm fresh.”

“Sounds delicious.” She polished off the cookie and took another. “Though these are amazing. I might not have room.”

“Mom’s special recipe. Dez makes ‘em better than I do.”

“Dez made these?” she asked, her mouth full of cookie. No wonder she couldn’t stop eating them. Water shifters were fabulous cooks.

Jacob rubbed his eyes. “I’ll meet you in about fifteen zillion hours after all my other crap’s done.”

“Alright, it’s a deal, but leave the cookies.”

He raised an orange brow at the nearly empty plate. “I’m not tellin’ you where the rest are. Though with your tracking skills, it won’t take you long to find ‘em.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “And here I thought we were partners.”

“You’ll put yourself into a sugar coma if you keep eatin’ like that. Anyone would.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Why do you think I was passed out on the table?”

“Lack of sleep?”

“That, too,” he yawned and glanced at the clock. “Gotta go.”

He left the room, and Kat searched for the rest of the cookies.