Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
The summer solstice is almost here, and there's what is called a super moon this coming weekend. Enjoy the summer months ahead. The year is speeding by so fast I can barely keep track of it.
This is the third installment starring my tigress heroine, Kytaira, and her black tiger man, Zurroc.
Tigress Shapeshifter ~ I am a killer... but never of innocents...
Continued from last week ~
"What the shooting star! How can they do this? Those people need help." I re-read the small article. "If my head wasn't firmly attached, it would be spinning, then orbiting around the moon."
"As we know, suffering seems to be of no consequence to those who live like the Earth kings of old." Zurroc's tone condemns.
"Yeah, let them eat cake," I mutter.
Moodiness claims me as I watch NYC's familiar skyline disappear. A dismal gray haze has captured the Big Apple already. "Like a foreshadowing," I say.
Zurroc slides the moving truck into the steady of stream of traffic on the freeway. He has become an expert driver of Earth's primitive vehicles. A valuable skill, since I have little patience for it.
"We both know the signs, my tigress."
"The odor of decay, of death was everywhere... I wish..." I halt my words knowing they will not bring the miracles I would wish for -- so many innocents, yet their fate has been sealed. Unless they choose to leave.
As tigress, I am a killer at heart. But never of innocents -- never those who live with good and generous hearts. Then, my nature is to protect, to rescue.
I rumble a soft moan, and remove my gaze from the outer-edge, decaying buildings we pass by. A part of me mourns for what will be.
"It's time for us to join forces with those who roar with life."
Zurroc's alpha power sensuously tingles my blood as he speaks.
"Right you are, my tiger man. I'm looking forward to Talbot's Peak, being with those who build and create the future as it should be."
I crumple the empty cellophane bag, shoving it in the small trash container. Earlier, Zurroc and I polished off the buffalo jerky.
"Still hungry?" I ask, then fish through our goody bag in search of what will hit the spot. With the days of packing and logistics planning, Zurroc and I skimped on meals.
"The turkey and pumpkin treats," he answers helpfully.
"Arf, ruff," I badly imitate a dog's bark. Quickly, I locate the large bag of organic pet treats both of us have developed a real fondness for.
"Open," I say, once I'm poised and ready to toss one of the nuggets.
Without taking his gaze off the road, Zurroc slightly tilts his head back, then parts his lips.
"Score," I triumphantly yowl, as the treat vanishes inside his mouth.
Satisfying my hunger, I munch on the tasty nuggets, passing them one by one to Zurroc. As I enjoy, I can't help but think about the Oklahomans who have been tornado-ravaged. About the generosity of the Canadians who tried to send them food and aid.
My anger gets a solid foothold. I scowl at the high-handed pettiness, the power-tripping stupidity of the border guards.
"Side trip, love?" Zurroc asks, reading my thoughts.
I don't answer immediately, taking time to contemplate the consequences that could arise if we hunt down the Canadian truck full of food. In the end, it proves to be a futile effort in the face of my rising anger -- my fierce desire for a kindly justice.
"Canada, here we come," I say, my words clipped, ferocious. "People cared enough to give to others. That sacred act should be respected."
Zurroc growls ominously, his righteous rage fueled. "Convoy," he utters.
"If that truckload of food can't be tracked, or... whatever, yes, absolutely a convoy. We'll gather up supplies, more food." My jaw firms with savage determination.
"Nothing like a change in plans to fire the blood." Zurroc's hand tightens on the steering wheel.
"Nothing like coffee to fire up my brain synapses," I say, reaching for the thermos, and mugs.
This time, as we roll smoothly, locked in the traffic grid, I pour the dark fragrant liquid into our mugs, and pass one to Zurroc. We sip companionably.
"We could encounter a strong military response." Zurroc lowers his mug, resting it on top of his thigh.
"Good thing we have time to plan for that likely contingency."
Balancing my mug, I reach for the know-it-all globe, as I affectionately call the bio-device that carries a wealth of knowledge about Earth. The globe sits in my palm, and warms at my touch.
"I estimate leaving this traffic behind in about an hour, my Kytaira. Then, I'll super-charge the engine, lessen our driving time."
"That's my tiger man. Pedal to the metal. Are you up to watching out for the highway patrol smokies?"
"Keep feeding me, and the answer is yes."
I finish off my coffee, make certain the thermos is capped, then bend over searching for what Zurroc calls his mind-power food. The wild-game formula is from Dante, and dried for convenience.
Once I've opened the jar, and set it in the holder for Zurroc, I lift the globe activating it with my gaze. Sparks of light move like shooting stars.
"I'll map out the route to the border crossing, and gather all the available data on our save-the-food operation."
"I'll concentrate on driving, and keeping the smokies off our tail," Zurroc intones seriously, yet dry amusement colors his voice.
"I love the way you drive. More coffee?" I retrieve Zurroc's empty mug.
"Save the coffee for later. You love the way I drive only because you don't want to do it." Zurroc's tone is bantering.
"Partly true. I will admit. But I find it manly, and I do love watching you." My heart thumps faster, warming with how much I feel -- the intensity of my passion.
"You're distracting the driver in a highly desirable way," Zurroc intimately growls, his passion obvious.
"Okay, I can take a hint. No more distracting..." I've leaned toward the small ice chest. Rummaging about briefly, I pull out my prized bottle of raw milk.
"Storage facilities," Zurroc states several miles later.
I lower the bottle of milk, glancing at him. "Do you mean at the border?"
"Storage of what's been confiscated. There could be a goldmine, as the Earthers say, of food and other supplies."
I nod, pondering. "What hasn't been sold on Ebay, or the black market. Later, I'll do a mind-reconnaissance. Find out." When another thought pops to the surface, I say, "Perhaps, Valiant Thor can be persuaded to assist if there is a motherload of supplies."
"Has he returned from Venus?" Zurroc reaches for my hand, and our palms mate.
"We were in the midst of packing. His telepathic message slipped my mind. But, yes, he's on his ship orbiting Earth as we speak."
Zurroc thumbs my palm lazily. He rumbles a knowing laugh when the bio globe I've placed on my lap glows, blazes red, then fills the truck cab with a dazzling light.
"Stop that," I order the globe. "We're supposed to be traveling incognito."
TUNE IN FOR NEXT WEEK'S FLASH-SCENE EPISODE...
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance