Series of Death, Draft 02, CH 35 (Patreon)

Gorrek Shiningpelt’s house was like the others in the neighborhood. Large enough for five or six people, with a yard where cubs would roam and learn to stalk one another. The houses were in calming browns and greens with blue highlights. As far as Marlot could tell, they’d been designed by one company who had gone with one model for every house there. The differences he saw, larger windows, different landscaping, or Shiningpelt’s two-car garage, had to have been done after the fact by the owners. The garage had to have cost the lion a few bedrooms since he hadn’t enlarged the structure.

Marlot parked in the indicated visitor parking in front of the houses, lock its doors, and headed for the entrance. The grass was trimmed and perfect. Shiningpelt either spent a lot of time, or money, caring for it. He buzzed the door and there was motion on the other side, as well as an indistinct raised voice from deeper in.

It opened and a muscular cougar looked him over. “Yes? Can I help you?” He had a white shirt and pants that hugged his body.

“I’m looking for Gorrek Shiningpelt,” Marlot answered. He considered providing his ID as an RI, but decided against it. This wasn’t his territory, and he didn’t want to risk the local RI asking what he’d been doing here if he couldn’t keep Al’garinam from killing the lion.

The cougar looked over his shoulder and Marlot glimpsed an empty corridor reaching deep into the house. “What is this about?” the cougar asked, a slight tremble in his voice.

“Mister Shiningpelt’s lost ID card was sent to me by mistake, I’m returning it.” He’d decided on using as much of the truth as he could; in part because an elaborate lie would come back to haunt him, he was sure of it, and also because as someone who dealt with creating stories for a living, he suspected the lion would be better than most at catching them.

“Oh, finally,” the cougar whispered with a sigh. He extended his hand. “I’ll give it to him.”

Marlot couldn’t help smiling as he took it out. “I take it he’s been a wreck about it?”

The cougar winced and looked over his shoulder again. “Something like that,” he whispered.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to hand it to him myself. I have some questions for him.”

“Are you with the enforcers?” The cougar’s voice was neutral, but his expression and scent were… hopeful?

“No, I’m just trying to solve the mystery of why I’m getting other people’s lost cards; his isn’t the first. I’m hoping that finding out the circumstances around when he lost it will help.”

The cougar’s expression cracked, and Marlot thought he saw fear in it before it turned into something neutral. “Alright, if you’ll follow me.” He led Marlot to a living room, limping as he walked. “Just wait here, I’ll tell Gorrek you’re here.”

Marlot noticed the air lacked almost all scents. He found the vents, large; much larger than what he’d expected in a home. Shiningpelt liked his air clean and borderline sterile. Maybe a result of working around people who had to act and lie for a living?

The couch and chairs looked ordinary. As if they weren’t supposed to be noticed. Then he caught the pictures on the wall and realized that might be the case. They were just there so someone could sit and look at them.

A quick count told him there were over forty of them, all of a dark-furred lion with his arm around the shoulders or waist of another male. They might go back as much as three decades by how young Shiningpelt was in some of them. The other males in the picture with him were of varying species, but they were all muscular predators—the male had a definite type—and a look of adoration on their face as they gazed at the lion.

Marlot’s heart tightened as they made him remember what he’d had with Trembor.

A raised voice made Marlot looked toward the entrance of the living room. “What have I told you about answering the door?” the voice was deeper than the cougar; Shiningpelt. “What if that had been some predator here to eat me? What would you have done? Maimed as you are?”

Marlot winced; the lion was definitely on edge. Just how long had he been without his card? He had to have realized quickly he’d lost it.

“But he brought your ID,” the cougar replied, softly enough Marlot had to move closer to the hall and still strain to make out the words.

“Oh, you know that for a fact?” the lion jeered. “Did you even see it?”

“He took it out,” the cougar replied, his voice trembling noticeably now.

“But did you see it was mine?”

The silence stretched. Marlot hadn’t shown it to the cougar, he realized. They’d gone from him taking it out to the cougar escorting him to the living room.

“Why do I even—” another silence, then a sigh. “I’m sorry.” Shiningpelt sounded like he had his anger under control now. “You know I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I’m a wreck, and you go and do something stupid like answering the door without checking with me first.”

“I’m sorry.” The cougar sounded like he was crying.

“Don’t cry. You know I hate it when you cry.” Another long silence. “Stay here and I’ll see to that. You said he’s a wolf, right? I’ll see to him, and then we can talk about this bad habit of yours to just invite anyone into my house.”

Marlot returned to looking at the pictures, ears burning as he realized he’d eavesdropped on a private conversation. They probably didn’t realize the sound carried this far. It was comforting to find out Shiningpelt’s life wasn’t as perfect as the neighborhood he lived in tried to say it was.

But then again, whose life was? He saw Trembor walking away from him again. Felt the pain.

“Davan tells me you received my ID?”

Marlot startled, ears folding back. How had the lion moved so quietly? He turned and his breath caught. Shiningpelt was shirtless, his well-defined muscle on display under the short brown fur. The lion flexed them slightly as Marlot looked at him, making them more defined. He wore gray canvas pants that weren’t as tight as the cougar, but still outlined his package well.

Marlot shook himself and brought his gaze back up.

The lion smiled at him. “You have good taste.”

Marlot handed the card over instead of answering.

The lion turned it over in his hand. “And this was sent to you instead of me?”

Marlot shrugged. “There’s a glitch in the system as far as I can tell. I let the Revenue Department know about it, but it’s not fixed yet.” He took out his pad and brought up the picture of Al’garinam he’d gotten off the camera at the entrance to Grebor’s gym. It wasn’t a good picture, being a profile, but it was the only one he’d found with even a little of the hare’s face. Al’garinam was an expert at not being caught on camera since no one he’d talked with had found a clear picture of the hare, even if they were certain they’d taken them to commemorate the trashing they’d received.

“I’ve been getting so many of them I’ve begun thinking someone might be taking them, and a few of the people I returned them to remember seeing a hare.” He showed the lion the image.

“Why would anyone steal my ID and just mail it in?” the lion took the pad and looked at the image. “Wouldn’t they use it? Mine would give them access to plenty of places with valuable equipment.”

Marlot shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he thinks it’s just a prank. His way of getting back at predators for the stress he feels? I don’t know. For all I know he works for the Revenue Department and it’s his way of highlighting the faulty system. Did you see him around the time you lost your ID?”

Shiningpelt shook his head. “Shouldn’t this be something the revenue people handle; or the enforcers?”

“Are you sure?” Marlot asked. No matter how good Al’garinam was at avoiding cameras, he couldn’t turn invisible.

“I don’t pay much attention to his kind.”

Marlot reached for the pad, but the lion caught his hand and held it as he placed the pad in it. “I’d think,” the lion said, eyes on Marlot’s, “that if one of them tried to steal from one of us, they wouldn’t survive it.”

Marlot gently pulled on his hands, but the lion didn’t let go. “He might be good enough not to get caught.”

The lion snorted. “Them? Good at something? Do you really believe that, or are you simply being kind to prey because it’s expected?”

Marlot swallowed. “I—” why was he nervous all of a sudden?

The lion smiled. “Maybe no one bothered because there’s much tastier treats out there than that, right?”

“I guess there is?” Marlot pulled on his hand again, a little harder, but the lion’s grip was firm. “I’m going to need my hand back,” he said, chuckling nervously.

“Oh?” The lion licked his lips. “And what would you do with it if I gave it back?” the tongue still poked out of the lion’s lips a little, the smile and the glint in the eyes made it clear that whatever the lion thought Marlot might do, it was to him, and it would be pleasurable.

Marlot realized the lion was coming on to him and was confused by it. “Aren’t you with someone?” he asked before remembering lions weren’t all monogamous.

“What does he have to do with—” Gorrek looked Marlot over, but whatever had been happening between them, the question had broken it. “Of course, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…” He trailed off, then smiled, but the suggestiveness was gone from it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help with catching this thief; but thank you for bringing my ID back. Is there anything else you’d like me to help with?”

Marlot shook his head, and himself, trying to understand what had happened, other than the obvious, as the lion released his hand.

“Then there’s someone I should attend to,” Shiningpelt said, motioning Marlot toward the room’s exit.

Marlot began turning to follow the lion’s instructions, then stopped, noticing one of the framed pictures on the wall. It was Shiningpelt with another lion; both were young. So young Marlot initially doubted it was him, but the golden fur, light brown mane, the love in those eyes, even if it was directed at the dark-furred lion instead of Marlot. There was no mistaking that.

“Ahh,” Shniningpelt purred in his ear, sending shivers down Marlot’s spine. “I was right, you do have good taste.” The lion rang a finger over the golden-furred lion, which meant he had to lean forward and press against Marlot, who found he couldn’t move, even though he knew he should make room for the lion. “He was wonderful,” the lion said wistfully. “I’m sorry I ever let him go.”

Marlot swallowed as the shiver turned into his hackles rising. Suddenly he didn’t want to be in this house anymore. In fact, he wanted to be as far from this lion as possible.

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