Read Caged View (An Urban Fantasy Collection of Short Stories) (Habitat .5 Series) Page 10


  * * *

  I soared high near the habitat ceiling’s bars, blending into the darkness and trailing Lanore as she stomped home, cursing to herself every minute or so.

  I frowned.

  She regrets kissing me.

  She entered Caged View Apartments—one of the crappiest buildings in the habitat and located in the most crime-ridden area of Shango District. Hookers in burnt orange lingerie strolled around the entrance, waving at cars that rolled by. A hot drug spot was located several blocks down.

  I exhaled noisily.

  Be patient.

  I wanted to take her out of here, put her somewhere better, maybe near her university and closer to me.

  The warm wind glided against my skin as I flew up to her fire escape. I’d done this many nights, making sure she got home safely. The fire escape creaked as I perched on the edge of the railing, tucking in my wings behind me.

  Her roommate, the Were-cheetah, sat on the russet brown couch in their living room, kissing a blonde. I’d seen him in her apartment before, but never knew he was her ex-boyfriend. He always had a woman in there, and the few times I’d seen him in the apartment with her, she had barely spoken to him.

  There must have been at least twenty teeny Pixies flying around the Were-cheetah as he made out with the blonde. A turquoise and silver one landed on top of his head and peered over to get a closer look. The Were-cheetah wagged his hands, and they all scattered away to the black dining table on the other side of the apartment.

  I moved my attention away from him and checked out Lanore’s bedroom for the hundredth time, smiling.

  Fifty candles in different shades of purple were spread around the room. Some were placed on her fuchsia bookshelf. Others floated over her bed by suspension spells. She had a huge poster of Captain Habitat taped on her ceiling as if she liked to ogle him while she lay in bed. Hundreds of books were stacked and scattered everywhere. Some were thick and leather bound. Others were small paperbacks with various muscular men ravaging women’s breasts.

  A solid white Pixie chased a lemon-colored one into a pile of clothes slung in the corner of Lanore’s room. The lemon Pixie dove out from the other side and flew away with a lilac sock sticking to one of its wings.

  I chuckled.

  The apartment’s front door opened, getting my attention.

  The Were-cheetah immediately separated from the blonde and was on the other side of the couch by the time Lanore stepped into the apartment.

  So the cheetah still wants her?

  She walked through, spotted him and then the blonde, and released an annoyed breath before speeding off to her bedroom.

  The blonde moved her lips, saying something that I couldn’t hear. The Were-cheetah ignored her. Instead, he leaned back until the tip of his nose pointed up to the ceiling. His nostrils flared as he sniffed the air.

  I grinned.

  You smell me on her. Don’t you?

  He shot up, knocking over their orange coffee table, and dashed into her bedroom before she could close the door.

  Be careful, cat.

  I got off the railing and stepped onto the fire escape, lifting her window up a tiny bit and peering through her sheer lilac curtains.

  If he touches her, I will kill him.

  “How was your night?” he asked, edging to her and sniffing her hair.

  “Fine.” She waved him away, slung off her sneakers, and threw her bag in the corner.

  Without even looking up at him, she said, “Stop smelling me!”

  “I wasn’t. You’re being paranoid.” He leaned back on her dresser. “You weren’t wearing that when you left the house this morning. I definitely would have remembered you wearing a tight black dress like that.”

  As the cheetah continued to yap, I shifted my eyes to black so I could get a look at his beast.

  Where are you, kitty?

  The beast appeared in the middle of the Were-cheetah’s chest, watching Lanore’s every movement. It didn’t matter what she did or what part of the room she went to, those feline eyes followed.

  My stomach twisted into a tight, stressful knot. I’d never seen a beast act like this unless he was gazing at his mate.

  I shook my worry away.

  This Shifter is too young to mate.

  I studied the cheetah’s body, noting the tiny paws and tail that signaled a Seasoned beast, not yet mature.

  He’s still in his Season. There’s nothing to worry about.

  “Did you go on a date?” the Were-cheetah asked.

  “Would you leave me alone and take care of your guest?” Lanore seized a lilac bathrobe off her desk. “I’m taking a shower.”

  “I can ask her to leave,” he said to her back as she went into the bathroom.

  The bathroom door locked. The shower turned on.

  The Were-cheetah leaped to her satchel and went through it, inhaling every item. His eyes shifted when he got to the bloody clothes. Claws appeared from his fingertips, ripping the bag open. Deep growls erupted from his chest.

  The shower turned off.

  He raced out of the bedroom.

  This cat may be a problem.