Burning Wild Page 2

  EIGHT YEARS

  CATHY was nervous and upset. Jake Fenton, her grandfather, was coming for another visit. He always insisted on talking alone with Jake, and Cathy didn't like it. She despised her grandfather and even talked about trying to have him killed, but she was afraid of him. Young Jake didn't understand why she was afraid. Fenton lived several states away in Texas, but she always dressed Jake just so and acted completely different, as if she cared about him in front of his grandfather.

  She hissed instructions to young Jake, reminding him to mind his manners, to keep his mouth shut, not to answer any questions about Cathy or Ryan or their personal lives. She threatened him with dark punishments if he dared disobey her. Jake found the entire matter of his great-grandfather quite interesting. What did the old man have that frightened Cathy? What did she want from him that made her try to look so respectable and sweet?

  Fenton never bought her lies. He smiled and made nice with Cathy and Ryan, but Jake could smell the pretense flowing from one to the other and he could see the contempt in the old man's piercing gaze. Fenton always insisted he talk alone with young Jake, and Jake enjoyed the long conversations, but the aftermath was always hell. Cathy and Ryan used a whip on him to beat him into submission and as an attempt to force every word of the conversation between the old man and their son out of him. Jake became very adept at making up stories and telling them with a straight face, looking the two of them right in the eyes. And then he would go to his room and mark his victory permanently into his skin, the pain clearing the rage and anger from his belly, replacing it with cold resolve.

  TEN YEARS

  BOOKS. The huge library in his home, which others rarely entered, was a treasure beyond measure. Jake spent most of his time in the library reading in the quiet haven of the room his parents never visited. He read every book on the shelves, regardless of subject, his photographic memory soaking up the knowledge and details and filing them away for future reference.

  He learned to stay silent and in the background. He'd slip away from Bridget, the latest nanny, and pad silently through the house, finding each occupant's location. He'd sneak up on them until he was close enough to touch them, but never let them know he was near.

  He discovered insider information on stocks. Ryan was extremely intelligent and adept at knowing other people's weaknesses. Jake learned a lot by watching him, the small smile that others took at face value, but that Jake came to know signaled Ryan was about to strike and strike hard. Descended from a powerful family with tremendous banking connections, Ryan's expertise in handling the diversity of companies they owned and his utilization of his political connections were both extremely valuable. Jake's conversations with Grandfather Fenton about stocks and bonds and the financial books he'd read in the library helped him to understand and assimilate the information he gathered when spying on his father.

  Today, as Jake crept though the house, he found Cathy with her personal trainer in the exercise room. They rarely used the equipment so much as they used one another. He learned a lot in that room and then further explored the subject with the books he found in the library and the information on the computer. Sex was simply another weapon to be used, like money, to gain power. He resolved to learn everything he could about sex so he could be really good at it. There was no point in having a weapon at his disposal unless he could wield it effectively.

  Jake began to work out, to use the powerful muscles running beneath the skin in his thin arms and legs. He used every machine, studying the exercise manuals and VHS tapes carefully and following the instructions, careful never to get caught. Each day, every day, Jake prowled his family's home, observing, listening, reading . . . learning more and more. Everything he filed away, all for one purpose.

  One day, when the time was right, he was going to beat his parents at their own game. He would take over every single one of their companies, ruin them financially, expose them to the world for what they were. He would make absolutely certain they knew that the child they had beaten so often, thinking him a victim, was really the strong one, really the predator.

  THIRTEEN YEARS

  JAKE stood very still as Josiah Trent, his parents' best friend and sometime partner, walked around him, sniffing the air. Deep inside, the other reacted, roaring with rage, raking at Jake, closer to the surface than he'd ever been, demanding to be set free. His skin itched. His muscles ached. His jaw and the inside of his mouth felt small, as if there was no room for his teeth, but he held on grimly, pushing at the other to stay still.

  Jake's mind was strong and disciplined now, and instinctively he knew he was in more danger than he'd ever been before. Trent was looking for the other. Those sharp eyes and that bulbous nose wanted to find the beast living inside of Jake. Cathy's breathing was ragged and eager, and her body seemed aroused as Trent walked in circles around Jake.

  Jake had made one too many mistakes, moving too fast, jumping too high, showing his emerging skills rather than hiding behind the facade of the weak, useless bookworm his mother always considered him to be. He had known he couldn't ever let them become suspicious, but now he had slipped up and they'd brought in Trent, hoping that Jake was, after all, what they had bred him to be. He would rather die than let them know the truth. That would be allowing them to win.

  He clenched his aching teeth and endured the poking and prodding from Trent. The man was a giant, with powerful muscles and glaring eyes. He looked at everyone as if they were beneath him, especially Jake. He made a sound of disgust.

  "Useless," he pronounced. "He's useless, Cathy. I told you not to bother having a child with that gutless wonder you married."

  "He has money, connections and the right bloodline," she hissed. "And you didn't do any better. I don't see that your daughter has any special talents."

  "Better than this disgusting little runt," Trent snapped and shoved at Jake. "At least she can produce a whelp eventually. I'll find her the right man."

  Jake allowed himself to stumble, savage triumph nearly shaking him. Josiah Trent had dismissed him, never once suspecting the other who raged so close to the surface. Trent wasn't nearly as powerful as Cathy and Ryan believed him to be. His was the other family with the "superior" bloodline, yet he could no more sniff out the truth than Cathy and Ryan could with him living right under their roof. It was a huge lesson. Trent was all bluff, his demeanor and act of superiority fooling even the two people Jake viewed as powerful.

  "We need a shifter," Trent said. "A true shifter with the nose and the cunning for business, not some scrawny little wimp who everyone will walk on."

  A shifter. At last Jake knew what they were after. He had to find the meaning, and if a shifter was that important to them, he had to make certain they never suspected that he was one--if he was. He would spend every hour in the library hunting down the meaning until he knew exactly what he was looking for. He would learn about his other and what he could do, why he was so important to them.

  Cathy ran her hand suggestively down Trent's arm. "Maybe we should have tried together." Her voice purred and invited.

  Trent looked her up and down, scorn in his eyes, contempt curling his lips. "Not if this is the kind of whelp you produce." Abruptly he spun away and stalked from the room.

  Cathy turned on Jake, furious that he'd witnessed her humiliation, furious all over again that he wasn't the child she had set out to create. She swung her open hand at his face. Reflexes made him jump out of the way. Instantly her face darkened. Cathy was furious and Jake could smell her hatred. The fetid scent permeated her entire body, right along with her cloying perfume. He had moved away too fast to allow her to slap his face, his reflexes taking over before he could stop them. Most of the time he stood stoically under her assault, but sometimes he gave himself away without thinking.

  Now he knew he had enraged her when he'd dodged her too quickly. Deep inside, the other stretched and unsheathed claws, fighting for supremacy even when they both knew he had to stay hidden. The o
ther was the special prize Cathy had wanted all along. Jake was certain if she ever found out what was inside of him, he'd be locked away with no chance of escaping, ever. He pushed the beast down, willing to take Cathy's fury, her punishment, to look weak and frightened in order to carry out his plan. He wasn't that far away from success. A few more years, a lot more knowledge, and he'd break free.

  "What did he say, Cathy?" Ryan stepped quietly into the room and Jake's heart began to pound. There was a look on his face, that small secret smile that terrified Jake now.

  "This runt dared to be disrespectful to me," Cathy snarled. "He's useless to us in every way, Ryan."

  Jake found himself dragged down to his bedroom in the basement and tied to a pole where first Ryan caned him. And then, in her fury, Cathy took over beating him with the thick cane. The other snarled and fought him for supremacy until Jake was choking on the rumbles backing up in his throat. His skin itched worse than the blinding pain across his back and legs.

  "Enough," Ryan eventually decreed. "You're going to kill him and we don't have Agnes to blame this time."

  With one last vicious cut, Cathy threw the cane and swept out ahead of her husband, leaving Jake sagging, gasping for breath, unable to control the rising beast. Sliding his bound hands down the pole, he managed to drag the knife from inside his boot and cut the bonds around his wrist, and then he slashed a deep cut across his thigh. He had allowed them to beat him. It was his choice, not theirs. He was bigger, stronger, smarter, he just chose not to show them. Sobbing, he buried his face in the mattress, desperately trying to breathe through the pain.

  His muscles contorted. The itch increased as something live moved under his skin. His fingers ached, his knuckles throbbed. He looked at his hands where knots formed, thick and aching, along the backs of his hands. The pads of his fingers hurt. His body bent forward and he went to the floor. He found himself on all fours, head down, jaw painful. His muscles contracted and locked, and once again his body contorted. His face felt funny, his jaw elongating, his teeth bursting through his gums.

  Another sob escaped his throat, but it came out a rumbling growl. Tawny fur burst through the pores of his skin, and darker rosettes sprang along his back and legs. Roped muscles rippled beneath the pelt while his skull widened and thickened. Wildness rose in him and he recognized and embraced the gift, no longer afraid of it. He accepted his other half, opening himself so the other could consume him.

  He thought he would disappear until he found he was not wholly human, not wholly leopard, but a separate entity altogether, with the characteristics of both and the ability to use his brain and the leopard's senses. A steel framework of muscles ran through his body and he stretched. His bones ached and cracked in his spine, and then became supple. His body was sore from the beating, from the change, but the strength pouring into him was worth every second of pain.

  The leopard lifted his head and scented the air. He could hear the whisper of voices, smelled blood and evil, and he knew in that moment that he was ten times more dangerous than the two upstairs were--that he was capable of killing and that they had created a monster, never realizing what they were unleashing with their hatred and cruelty.

  Jake shifted, falling naked to the floor, his back screaming in pain, hot tears flowing down his face, sobbing for the little boy he should have been and never would be. Afraid for what he had become and what he might do. He reached up and gripped the mattress, pulling his fingers across it, leaving long, thin tears from razor-sharp claws.

  FIFTEEN YEARS

  "IT'S good to see you, Jake," Jake Fenton said and held out his hand.

  The smile was genuine. His great-grandfather really was happy to see him. Lies had a distinctive scent Jake had come to recognize. Jake Fenton lied when he smiled at Cathy or Ryan, but he always sought out young Jake and sat down to converse with him. Jake genuinely liked him and in a way it was frightening. The old man was the only person who was kind to him, or who ever seemed to care. And Jake scented death on him. He didn't want to care about Fenton, he didn't trust caring. He didn't trust anyone, but he couldn't help himself. He liked the old man. He enjoyed their brief times together even though it always meant a severe beating after he left.

  Fenton frowned and turned Jake's hand over, examining his arms before Jake could pull away. "What the hell happened to you? How did you get all these scars, just since the last time I visited? And don't say you're clumsy, Jake. You aren't clumsy." The old man's eyes were shrewd.

  Jake glanced around to make certain they were alone. He shouldn't have worried. He would have been able to catch the scent of his enemies had they been close. Cathy despised the old man and Ryan never went near him. There was secret pleasure in knowing his great-grandfather only came to visit him. Fenton lived in Texas and didn't really care for Chicago, but every now and then he'd take a trip to see Jake.

  It was Fenton who insisted on the best tutors and it was Fenton who would talk openly about stocks and bonds with him. He insisted Jake learn languages from an early age and usually spoke to Jake in a variety of foreign languages, explaining to him that to do commerce in other countries, one had to know customs and languages. He spoke of his land and how he knew there was oil on it, but they'd been unable to find it. Cathy and Ryan made fun of him, calling the acreage "Fenton's Folly," but Jake loved hearing the excitement in the old man's voice when he spoke of finding the huge resource someday. Fenton wasn't as interested in the money as he was the actual thrill of finding new reserves. And that told Jake that Cathy and Ryan were wrong about the old man--he hadn't thrown his money away; he had so much he didn't need more.

  "Jake, the scars? Is it that worthless son of a bitch Ryan? Or my granddaughter? She has a streak of cruelty in her. I never believed that nanny of yours beat you. I can't imagine Cathy not knowing everything that goes on in her household."

  "Forget about it, Grandfather," Jake said quietly, his gaze meeting Fenton's. "I'm handling it."

  The old man shook his head and dropped down into a chair, looking around the library, his gaze wandering from book to book. Jake already had learned the value of silence and just waited while Fenton obviously made a decision. When he looked up at Jake, he showed every one of his eighty-seven years.

  "Have you heard anyone speaking of the leopard people?"

  Jake's heart jumped, and he didn't answer right away, afraid of a trap. He could smell lies and it occurred to him that his great-grandfather might be able to as well. "Tell me."

  "You must never reveal any of what I'm about to tell you. Not to anyone. Especially not to your parents or the Trents."

  Jake drew in a deep breath, his heart pounding hard. This was it. This was his moment to learn, to become more powerful. "I promise."

  Fenton leaned forward and lowered his voice. "The leopard people aren't a myth any more than the oil on my property is. I know the oil is there even though I can't find it, just as I know there are shifters in our bloodline even though I can't shift. I met a true shifter once. They're a separate species, not fully human yet not fully animal either. They are both."

  Jake moistened his lips. Did the old man know about him? Suspect? Was he looking to trick Jake? He pressed his lips together to keep silent, but his heart raced as his great-grandfather glanced at him sharply.

  "There are a few shifters left in the Borneo rain forest, men and women who live with honor, who keep to the old ways. Find them, Jake. Learn from them. They are true to their nature, not the corrupt, twisted beings our bloodlines produce." He sighed heavily. "It's my grandfather's fault. He kidnapped a woman from the forest and forced her to marry him. In those days, women didn't have many rights and no one helped her. He had discovered the secret and knew that with the traits of the species, we could gain wealth and power. And he wanted it. He was ambitious and he wanted it." He hung his head, running his hand over his face. "Our bloodline carries the epitome of cruelty. You don't want to live like them. You must take care to keep yourself decent. The genes are
strong in you, and with them come responsibility."

  Jake felt his belly knot into tight, hard lumps of protest. "I have to be whatever it takes to get away from them."

  Fenton sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Have you ever studied breeding? Breeding anything at all, cattle, dogs, whatever? You can breed good or bad traits into a line. You have to take care, watch what you do, or you end up with very bad blood. Leopards are cunning creatures. You hunt a leopard in the wild and they're one of the few predators that will circle around to stalk and kill their hunter. They can be cruel and fierce and bad-tempered. But they're also cunning, sharp and intelligent. Read up on them, Jake, and then you'll have an idea of what any of us with shifter genetics contends with. We don't have to shift to feel the effects."

  "Can you really not shift?" Jake asked. He kept his eyes downcast, his face still, afraid he'd give away his excitement. "I know you said you couldn't, but you know so much."

  The old man shook his head. "I really can't. The leopard is there inside me. I reach for it, but shifting eludes me. I traveled to the rain forest when I found the diaries my grandfather kept, and I met some of the people. They aren't like us. We're abominations in comparison. Cathy, my own granddaughter, is a sick, twisted being, cruel beyond measure, and I know I'm responsible. I married a woman to further the bloodline. Don't do that. Don't continue this experiment. It's dangerous and the people we create are dangerous."