Chapter 23

The cell phone’s insistent ringing jolted Catlyn awake. She fumbled, searching for it on the nightstand, finally grasping it. Without looking at the caller ID, she answered it with a mumbled, “Yeah?”

“Rise and shine!”

Catlyn groaned at Bri’s chirpy voice and peered blearily at the clock that read eight a.m. After the healing circle last night, everyone had gone out to dinner, staying out way past midnight. She glared at the phone, irritated Bri had woken her up so early.

“It’s my birthday today,” Bri said. “Don’t tell me you forgot! You have to help me celebrate! It isn’t every day I turn the big three-oh.”

“Most people don’t think that’s a celebratory milestone,” Catlyn grumbled and sat up, displacing her cats. Mittens gave her an affronted look as she jumped off the bed.

“But you’re only thirty once. Hurry up and dress. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes to pick you up. Pack your swimsuit. We’re going to the beach first.”

Catlyn rolled her eyes. “You can’t be serious! It’s the end of October. It will be freezing.”

“It’s the only time I can get you out to the beach. You always complain about your pale skin burning so easily. Besides, it’s supposed to be in the high 70s today. So no excuses.”

“But—”

“Up and at ’em! See you in a bit.” Bri hung up.

Grumbling, Catlyn tossed her phone on the nightstand. After having two friends murdered, she worried about all her friends. She wanted to protect Bri by staying away from her. The thought of losing her best friend terrified her. Bri loved her birthday and probably had the whole day planned on how to celebrate it with Catlyn. If she didn’t get her butt up and dressed, Bri would be deeply hurt—and mad. Could she justify hurting her friend because she was afraid of some nebulous threat?

Reluctantly, Catlyn threw off the covers and climbed out of bed.

Forty minutes later, she’d showered and dressed. Although she didn’t plan on playing in the cold water, she slathered on waterproof, heavy-duty sunscreen. Bri could be persuasive. Catlyn packed a big bag with a beach towel, blanket, and book. Digging in the back of her hall closet, she found her beach umbrella and put it by the door. A brightly wrapped package containing the necklace, earrings, and bracelet set Catlyn had made for Bri sat on the table.

Catlyn dished out food for her cats, then pulled out a steak from the fridge, devouring it raw. Maak gave a satisfied purr while Catlyn washed her hands.

Bri knocked, and without waiting for Catlyn, used her key to open the door. “Happy birthday to me!” she sang.

“Happy birthday, Bri!” Catlyn hurried over and hugged her friend.

Bri’s eyes lit up when she saw the package on the table. “Is that for me?”

“Who else? It isn’t my birthday. Go ahead, open it.”

Bri did, and “oohed,” at the wrapped flourite cabochon with a chain of apatite, moonstone, aventurine, and amethyst beads. She immediately put the jewelry on. “This is beautiful, Catlyn. Now, go grab something to wear to a nightclub tonight—something that shows off your legs, not your usual long skirts. Oh, and heels, bring high heels. We’re going to the Red Orchid.”

Catlyn rolled her eyes and returned to her bedroom to rummage in her closet. She didn’t like going to nightclubs. Her psychic abilities went haywire from too many people and so much noise. She pulled out the little black dress and heels Lisa had loaned her. Catlyn hadn’t had a chance to return them, and now she would never be able to.

A stab of loss punched her insides, making her curl over the clothes as she gasped. Tears spilled, blotching the silky fabric. It took her several minutes to regain her composure. When she returned to the living room, Bri had already taken her beach things out to the car and stood by the couch, petting the attention-loving Mittens. Boots eyed her from the other end of the couch.

“So what’s the plan?” Catlyn asked as she grabbed her purse. “I should be the one planning your party.”

“Ha! I’d rather do it and know I’m going to have fun. Your idea of a party is sitting around listening to trance music.”

“Hey! I have fun doing that—so do you.”

“But not for my birthday.” Bri’s face fell, and she lost her exuberance. “Just before Amelia died, she gave me coupons for discounted drinks at the Red Orchid. It was the last time I talked to her.” She plastered on a bright smile. “So we’re going tonight both for my birthday and to remember her—and Lisa.”

“They would like that.” Catlyn smiled. A frisson of fear slid down her spine at the mention of the Red Orchid. But it was Bri’s birthday, and she wouldn’t rain on it by refusing to go to the club. She prayed Michael wouldn’t be there. “Well then, let’s get your party day started. Beach first?”

“Yes.” Bri hustled out the door with Catlyn close on her heels.

Bri drove them down to Laguna Beach. They walked along the shoreline. Out of the corner of her eye, Catlyn glimpsed Ariana keeping watch. She breathed a bit better. The last time she’d been at the beach was the first time she’d seen Michael.

Catlyn stopped, lifting a hand to her forehead, blocking out the sun while she watched Bri skip in the waves lapping the sand. Catlyn let out a screech when cold water washed over her toes. Bri laughed as Catlyn lifted her skirt and ran away from the encroaching wave. Arm-in-arm, they strolled back to Bri’s car.

They ate a leisurely lunch at a funky little burger place on the beach. People drove miles for their ice cream shakes. They sat on the shaded patio watching the die-hard surfers, runners, and beach goers, making up stories about the interesting ones. By the time they drove to Bri’s to wash off the salt and sand, Catlyn’s melancholy had subsided.

Bri made a big production out of styling Catlyn’s hair into an elegant updo. Catlyn usually wore it down with as little effort as possible. When Bri finished, Catlyn gazed into the mirror. Her mouth dropped open, stunned. She grudgingly had to admit she looked beautiful.

Bri wore her own dark-brown hair in a loose French-braid. Her low-cut navy blue sheath set off her blue eyes. She fastened on the jewelry Catlyn had made her. The pendant hung above her cleavage, drawing the eye to her ample assets.

“Where are we going to dinner?” Catlyn asked. “Pick wherever you want to go. My treat.”

“Amelia covered it.” Sadness darkened Bri’s eyes. “The coupons she gave me included dinner and two cocktails each. The Red Orchid is rumored to have amazing cocktails and pretty good food. Lydia, Michelle, and some of the gang are meeting us there, so we’ll have a great party.”

Cars filled the parking lot of the popular club. Bri pulled into the valet station and beamed at the attendant. “It’s my birthday. We’re here for a party.”

The attendant wished them a good time as he helped them from the car. As Catlyn and Bri waited in the foyer to be seated—apparently Amelia had reserved a table for them—Catlyn took in the scenery. It was the first time she’d been here. Clubs like this weren’t her thing. She’d much rather have gone to a drum circle.

A DJ stood on a small stage with a spotlight lighting him up. Colored lights flashed and flowed over the crowd on the dance floor. Catlyn’s hips moved to the beat of the music, and a smile spread over her face. Lydia and Michelle came in, both carrying gift bags, much to Bri’s delight. The others in the group weren’t far behind, and the hostess led them through the maze of tables.

Their drinks arrived, and as they sipped them, waiting for their food, they watched a tall, well-built man doing magic tricks at another table. The occupants laughed as the cards turned into a dove that shot toward the ceiling, disappearing into the dark depths of the club.

“Ooh, do you think he’ll come over here?” Bri asked, avidly watching the entertainer. “I love magic tricks.”

As if he heard her, the man bowed to the table and spun around to face theirs. Catlyn gasped. Nothing she knew about Michael Drogger indicated he was an entertainer. The light must be playing tricks on her eyes. She blinked. Much to her consternation, he was still there. Her stomach dropped, and she wished she could leave. But Bri was having such a good time, Catlyn couldn’t ruin it for her.

“Man, he is cute!” Bri waved a hand in front of her, as if fanning herself. “Be still my beating heart.”

“No, he isn’t.” Catlyn countered, fear and anger in her voice. Catlyn scanned the room, hoping to catch Charlie’s attention. She’d spotted his truck pulling into the parking lot as they entered the club. An image of teeth tearing into Michael’s throat, claws ripping open his belly flashed into her mind. Maak didn’t like him much either. “I find him quite loathsome.”

“Come on, Catlyn. You never think anyone is good-looking or good enough. You need to get past how Karl treated you.”

“Can’t you see something is wrong with him?”

Bri stared at him, her eyes narrowed. Her forehead creased. “That’s strange. I’m not seeing his aura.” She laughed and held up her nearly empty glass. “Must be because of this lovely drink.”

Catlyn leaned close and whispered into Bri’s ear. “He’s the one who is stalking me.”

Bri’s eyes widened. “No way.”

Catlyn nodded.

Michael sauntered toward them, his smile bringing out the dimple in his cheek. With both hands, he swept back his longish, blond hair, the movement opening his shirt wider, revealing his muscled chest. He appraised all the women at the table, his eyes stopping on Bri for a long moment. His predatory glance made Catlyn fist her hand under the table and the hackles on the back of her neck rise.

As he stopped at their table, a low growl vibrated her throat. Bri turned to her with wide eyes, and she coughed to cover it up.

“You okay, doll?” His voice was a practiced, smooth-as-honey-make-women-melt tone.

She heard Lydia sigh and smelled her lust. Catlyn held up her glass. “Yeah, just swallowed wrong.”

“That seems to happen here all the time.” He smiled, rubbing his chest, and winked at the girls, who giggled like they were part of an inside joke.

Catlyn rolled her eyes and turned in her chair to watch the DJ. She toyed with her phone. Should I call Charlie? I haven’t seen him inside the club. He has to be here. She sniffed deeply, then snarled with frustration at her inability to make out his scent with all the people in the crowd.

While Michael entertained her friends with his illusions, Catlyn sent a text to Charlie: Michael’s here, taunting me! Help! The longer Michael stayed at their table, the more uncomfortable she became. Even over the myriad emotions clogging her nose, his evil smell swamped her. His craving for power overshadowed his lust for women. She kept looking at her phone and searching the crowd for Charlie. Where is Charlie?

When the others clapped, she whipped her attention back to Michael. Her relief that he was leaving was short-lived. As he bowed, playing the charade of graciously receiving her friend’s accolades, his gaze snagged hers. “I’ll get you. Soon,” he mouthed. A malicious grin darkened his face and his eyes glinted red. When he stood, he wore a charming smile.

She shivered. She’d seen his evil under his mask of a handsome playboy. Catlyn tried to forget the threat and stay in the spirit of celebrating Bri’s birthday. But Michael hovered in her peripheral vision. She continued to search the crowd for Charlie, but the dim lighting and mass of writhing bodies made it difficult to see people distinctly.

After a while, she’d had enough drinks that her bladder felt like it would explode. She glanced around, sighing in relief when she couldn’t spot Michael anywhere.

“Bri, I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, I should be okay. He wouldn’t do anything with all these people here.”

Catlyn slipped through the crowd. She caught sight of Charlie standing by the long, narrow hall leading to the ladies’ room. She let out a pent up breath. She was safe. He inclined his head at her. Why didn’t he return my texts? As she approached the restroom, her nose twitched and uneasiness flooded her. Why couldn’t I see him before? Is it actually Charlie, or is it one of Michael’s illusions? She shook her head to clear it of her silly thoughts. Maak, am I being paranoid? Is it Charlie?

A sense of frustration rose from Maak. There were too many people to pick out an individual.

Once in the ladies’ room, her uneasiness passed. She headed back toward her friends. Two steps from the restroom, the sharp scent of danger hit her. Before she could react, someone grabbed her and dragged her into a dark closet. Her face slammed into the wall. Stars swam before her eyes.

“I told you I’d get you soon,” Michael crooned into her ear, while he pressed against her back. One hand held a knife to her throat while the other groped and fondled her breasts.

Catlyn struggled, stamping her heel hard toward his instep, but missed. She managed to jab her elbow into his abdomen. She smirked with satisfaction when his breath whooshed out.

“Stay still,” he warned.

The knife bit into her skin. A sharp pain cut through her, and as he drew the blade slowly down her neck, she felt something warm trickle on it.

Blood.

“Maak, help!” she screamed silently. She waited for the great cat to do something. Maak snarled in frustration. Anything Maak could do would jeopardize Catlyn’s life. Michael wouldn’t hesitate in slitting her throat. She stopped struggling, but couldn’t help the growl that escaped.

His hand moved further down her body, his touch making her skin crawl. He lifted the skirt of her dress, found her panties, and pulled them aside. Catlyn struggled to pull away, and when that didn’t work, she tried crossing her legs to stop him. She gasped when he thrust his finger inside her.

“Oh, I knew you’d like it. You’ve been waiting weeks for this.”

He licked the blood trickling down her neck. Terror gripped her. Will he kill me like he did my two friends? She squeezed her eyes shut, crying as he finger-fucked her.

“This is just the beginning, Catlyn,” Michael’s voice oozed. “Oh, the fun we’ll have. Soon. But not yet. The timing isn’t right. He isn’t quite ready for you.”

The pressure from the knife lifted. Michael disappeared.

She crumbled to the floor, sobbing and shaking. She wanted to shower and wash the stink of his violation off her. Finally, she stopped shaking. Her neck throbbed where the knife had bitten into her. Her mind skittered from thinking about what else he’d done to her. To be raped like that was almost worse than Michael using his penis. No one would believe he’d raped her. Wearing Lisa’s mini dress had been a mistake. They’d say she’d been “asking for it.” No woman ever asked to be raped!

Even with all of Jade’s security precautions, Michael had found a way to get to her. None of her magical protections had worked. She’d thought having a giant tiger as her spirit guide would keep her safe. But it hadn’t.

“I’m sorry,” Maak said, her voice soft and contrite. “There wasn’t anything I could do to help you.”

“You’re not to blame. Nothing could have stopped him.” Catlyn scrubbed at her face, wishing it would be as easy to wipe away the incident as her tears. She sniffed deeply. Her questing fingers found the light switch. Michael had taken her into a supply closet. She opened a package of toilet paper and blew her nose, leaning against the door for support.

“The bastard will receive the reward he deserves, I promise.”

Maak’s promise settled Catlyn’s racing heart. Never again would she be so complacent. As much as she hated it, she’d devote more time to her martial arts training with Jade. When Michael tried again—and she didn’t doubt his threat that he would—she wanted to be able to put up a fight. She vowed she wouldn’t go down like a cowardly mouse.

Catlyn sat up, resolved to make Michael pay. She refused to be the rape victim who wouldn’t press charges. Even as she made her way back to her friends to get her phone, she replayed Michael’s last words to her.

What the hell did Michael mean that he wasn’t ready for me?