Author's Note:
I was lucky enough to find some time, so here is the next installment.
It is intended as a nail-biter-at least it was while I wrote it ;)
As always, your comments are welcome.
Enjoy!
6:20 PM
Trina sighed contentedly, stretching her legs. Then, she winced; she was still a little sore. 'You hussy!' she scolded herself. 'I can't believe you actually did that!'
You weren't complaining at the time.
She blushed. 'You punched the last buck who suggested it,' she reminded herself, sternly.
I didn't care about him—and my lynx was just as surprised as I was when you made the suggestion.
She blushed again. 'Well, I admit I was curious—'
As they say, curiosity killed the cat.
'Not this little kitty,' she smiled. 'He was quite lively.'
And quick!
'That's why you can still walk, you hussy!' she told herself, getting out of the bed. Rolled on his side, facing the wall, Kataiahs slept soundly, though an ear swiveled her way, then went back and flopped down again. The doe smiled, suppressing the urge to jump on top of the lynx. He made her feel…free.
She was thirsty, hungry, and not the least bit tired. The doe grabbed an outfit from her bag, a new one she hoped Kataiahs would appreciate when he woke up. He likely wouldn't say anything, but his eyes would give him away, following her when he thought she wasn't watching. She smiled. Now that she was paying attention to him as more than just a mentor, it was obvious to her how long he had been waiting for her to accept him. She didn't have near that level of patience.
She fought the urge to jump in bed again and smother him with kisses. Plenty of time for that before the train arrived in Bunnyburrow; now it was time to forage for food.
Trina had never taken the express train before; it was much nicer than the regular train, with a fully-glassed panoramic observation car and a dining car for each mammal size class. She headed for the small mammals' car near the end of the train, past the large and the medium class cars; the last car was reserved for rodent-sized mammals.
At the far end of the dining car, an otter served drinks behind a bar, but only one customer sat there, a handsome buck hare with stylishly dyed fur, wearing a comfortable evening suit and staring at his smartphone. Trina decided she could use a drink as well, wandering up to the bar. Looking up from his smartphone, the buck caught sight of the doe mid-way and did a double-take, making her smile; Kataiahs should have the same reaction, she hoped, pleased with her new outfit.
Feeling good about herself, she sat and ordered a shot of Carrolure, a strong liqueur made from carrots and spices. It would warm her up nicely for what she had in mind for Kataiahs later on. The buck, sitting a couple of chairs away, raised his eyebrows as she took a long sip from her glass.
"Don't see many mammals drinking that around here," he said.
"It has always been a favorite of mine," Trina told him. "Actually, it is almost the only thing I drink."
"Not even Carrote's Brew?" he asked, naming a popular beer made from carrots.
"That's not really alcohol to a bunny," she replied, smiling.
"I love your accent," he said.
"And my dress," she added slyly.
"Any shorter and I'd have to marry you," he said, raising his glass. "Very distracting—in a most pleasant sort of way." He swallowed the rest of his drink and gestured for a refill.
"That is the intention," Trina said, taking another sip from her glass. The buck gave her a measuring look, surprised.
"Not for me, I assume," he said, with dramatized disappointment.
She gave him her own measuring look. "A doe could do much, much worse," she said, gallantly. "But, no; not tonight."
"Do I detect the sounds of True Love?" he said, tilting his head and raising his glass.
Trina finished her drink and signaled for another. "Am I that obvious?" she said, suddenly frustrated at how transparent her feelings were. She downed the new drink in one shot, gesturing for another. The buck whistled.
"What brought that out?" he asked.
Trina downed her next shot, starting to feel the first one. "I wish I didn't love him," she said, letting her frustration show. She gestured for another drink. The bartender looked at her to be sure she really wanted one; she nodded.
"Whoa," the buck said. "That's an unusual reaction to True Love."
"Not when it is doomed from the start," she lamented. The buck downed his drink.
"I'll have one of those," he told the bartender, pointing to the doe's glass. Trina's eyes glistened, and she sat looking at her new drink on the bar, deciding what to do with it.
"Why would you ever think True Love is doomed?" the buck asked, moving to the chair next to hers. She waited until the bartender wandered away after giving the buck his drink.
"Have you ever been in love with a predator?" she said, almost inaudibly, and ashamed. The buck downed his drink, one shot, gesturing for another.
"Hard to tell," he said, misunderstanding her. "Though I have been called one more than a few times." Trina smiled, downing her drink.
"Are you...hunnnting…mme...noww?" she slurred. The buck smiled; a nice smile, she thought. He downed his drink, gesturing for two more, then passed one to the doe.
"I couldn't," he said, sadly. "You're already someone's prey." Trina sniffled.
"Thassso ssssweet," she said, then frowned. "You sssseem unhappy, too."
"I'm sorry," he said, downing his drink. "I'm caught as well, but my predator doesn't really want me; she wants someone else."
Trina raised her glass in salute. "That'ss…worssssan…mmee," she said, downing her drink. "At least mine…loves me. I jussst can't…sssstay with…him: I'm promished…to sssomeone elssse."
"Ouch!" he said, ordering two more drinks. "How does that happen to a bunny?"
"Arrrrrrangeded marriageges," she said, definitely buzzed. "I…knew before…I…you know…ssstarted…I jjusssst… he'ssssooopurrrffecct… I luvvvhimmmsssooomuchhh… now… whassabunny to do? Zppossto mrrrrysssummnnn elssse." Trina lay her head on the bar and began crying. "Ssssssnottfffairrrr! Ssssnotfffairrr!"
"It will definitely be a snot fair," he said, "if you don't stop crying." Trina glared at him.
"Yuu mekkknig ffunuvme?" she demanded.
"Of course, I am," he said. "Have to get you to stop crying before the barkeep runs you out."
"Ohhhhh," she said. "Gooooodddplan. Zzzzzzit wurkkkingg?"
"So far," he said. "How about we get you some food?"
"Yesssss. Fffuuudd. Mmmm hunnnngry bunnny."
"Let's get to a table," he said.
"Kkentttmooovvv," she told him, shaking her head emphatically. "Ssssskkkrrttttoo shhhortttt." She giggled. "Nnnno nndrrwerre." The buck didn't hesitate. He downed both drinks, took off his jacket, wrapped it around her waist, then picked her up and set her on the floor, making sure she was—somewhat—steady before leading her to a semi-private corner booth at the front of the car. He ordered two small salads for appetizers and pointed to a couple of items on the menu for the main course.
Trina devoured her salad then took up studying the buck, watching him eat with impeccable table manners. He smiled his dazzling smile at her; it was a really nice smile for certain, and she found herself wanting to know more about him.
The waiter brought out the main course, and a familiar smell wafted over from the covered serving bowl. Another waiter brought out a dusty bottle and two wine glasses, setting them down on the table, cradling the bottle for the buck to see.
"Lagoute Mourphette '02," he told the rabbit. The buck nodded and the waiter deftly wiped the bottle down, uncorked it, and poured a glass for each rabbit before withdrawing. Trina knew she shouldn't, but reached for her glass anyway, taking a sip. It was delicious; sweet, with a hint of carrots and jasmine, enough to complement but not overwhelm the grapes. She downed it, and the buck quickly poured her another glass. Then he lifted the cover from the serving bowl, revealing a creamy carrot, turnip and sprouts casserole.
"Daluuvan," he told her in fluent Gran Tierrene, her native tongue. "Fit for a Queen." Trina found herself blushing...and something else.
"Howyussspeak thhlanguage?" she asked, fascinated, watching him serve the dish in proper fashion.
"Misspent youth, I suppose," he said, taking a bite. "It is really good; you should try it." She did; it was perfect! She shoveled the rest down and served herself some more.
"Bbinnnyeerrss!" she said enthusiastically between bites. "Kennntfinesppiices nZootopppya."
"You should try Ganshue's Emporium in the Canal District," he told her. "They specialize in Mid-Continental cuisine."
Trina nodded, chewing busily. The buck talked about his business, the weather, his unhappy relationship, sports, his background, all while the doe stuffed her face and drank wine, not remembering anything he said, just listening to his melodious voice. All she saw was his handsome face, strong body and perfectly trimmed ear tufts. She felt warm, very warm and… friendly, grateful for the distraction he offered from... everything.
She reached across the table for his paw, drowning in his big grey eyes, her nose twitching. There was something she was forgetting, something important, but if it were that important, she would remember it, she thought. She took another long drink of wine, reaching under the table with her foot, hidden by the tablecloth, bringing the buck's foot up between her thighs, under her skirt; she was ready for him, and he could certainly tell. He took a moment to feel her, rubbing the soft top of his foot against her damp fur. Her thighs parted to give him better access, trembling under his touch, panting lightly while staring into his eyes.
When her hips began to rock, the buck leaned over to kiss her. A waiter came by just then with the check, placing it on the table.
"Will that be all, sir?" he asked.
"Charge it to my cabin," the buck replied urgently, signing the check.
"Is the young miss alright?" the waiter asked, looking at Trina.
"A little too much wine, is all," the buck said. "I'll get her where she needs to go."
"Yes, sir," the waiter said, holding up the buck's jacket. "Have a good evening."
The buck rose, helping Trina to her feet, draping his jacket over the trembling bunny. He guided her through the dining cars, the general passenger cars, to the suite cars, at last coming to a stop and entering one of the rooms. As soon as the door closed, Trina was all over him, rubbing against him while fumbling with his clothes. He picked her up and put her on the bed, going back for his jacket. Trina ran her paws lustily over herself, chirruping her desire.
The buck laughed at the scene, searching through his jacket for his phone. "Just a moment, your Highness," he said, getting anxious. "I need...a picture of this...or no one will ever...believe me." There was a knock on the door.
The buck frowned, going to the door and looking through the peep hole. It was the waiter who had given him the check, holding up his missing smartphone. Relieved to see the device, the buck opened the door.
"Thanks," he told the waiter, handing him a twenty-dollar bill. "I was looking for this." He locked the door.
Back to business...
6:30 PM
There was laughter at the table that, while not completely free of stress under the circumstances, had been long missing from the Big mansion at dinnertime. Fru-Fru had laid the foundation, as she had banished 'business talk' from the dinner table once her kits had been born. Tonight, though, even Fru-Fru's husband seemed at ease, which had rarely been the case before, and with Cynthia back in the family, Antonio felt he had, at last, succeeded as a family head. Judy and Nicky were wonderful additions, too, even if they were cops. The ZPD had actually become a real public service department since Adriene Bogo had taken over as Chief, and that made all the difference. The shrew had respect for the new ZPD, unlike in those dismal days when he had first arrived with his extended family in Zootopia, when the ZPD was actually worse than any of the local gangs. They had been the definition of 'Organized Crime.'
Fru-Fru had yielded her spot next to Antonio for Cynthia, who had started crying again at the gesture. His eldest daughter was being very emotional, Antonio noticed. Most unusual, but understandable after her recent ordeals. Once dinner was served, and tensions eased somewhat, the vixen was much more like the young kit he remembered, recounting amusing tales from her childhood. Poor Nicky took the brunt, assaulted on all sides by all three females, but he was mammal enough to handle it gracefully, never retaliating with embarrassing comments of his own, which, Antonio knew for certain, he had in more than ample supply.
Antonio was proud of Nicky. The shrew prided himself as an excellent judge of character and was sorry about his past mistreatment of the tod. He was glad his first judgment of a young fox, so many years ago, had truly been correct; he would have hated to discipline the tod. Judy was mostly responsible for that. The bunny was mammal of outstanding moral fiber and iron will. She was one Nicky could give his unwavering loyalty to and would never be disappointed in the results. Judy could depend on him, knowing he would always be there for her, regardless of circumstance, even if it killed him. They were made for each other.
Antonio sighed. Now, if they could just have kits. The shrew had only been half-joking about his proposal to Nicky concerning Cynthia, though he knew Judy would never agree. It would be a defeat to the bunny, who never surrendered without a bloody, colossal battle. Who knows? Antonio had seen stranger things happen, in his view, than a bunny having fox kits.
As dinner concluded and Fru-Fru's kits went off to bed with their father, the group went over again what they knew and what they planned to do. It was only a matter of time before the ZBI had the estate under surveillance—if they didn't already—once the ZIA released the information that Cynthia was his daughter, so Judy and Nicky would take her to Bunnyburrow. After all, the couple was officially dead, so they worked on the assumption no one would be looking for them, least of all out in the open in the Burrows. Cynthia had personal contacts in the ZIA Science and Technology division, also in Bunnyburrow, making this an optimal arrangement. She would contact them, give them the hardware she had appropriated from that despicable fox in Plainsville, and they would finally get to the bottom of this mess. They hoped.
The raccoons at the hospital should remain silent. They were more frightened—and rightly so—of Antonio than their chief. Even if not, the worst that would happen is the wolf would know they had talked to the local crime boss, which would not be unexpected given the connection between Antonio and the WildeHopps. And he would also know that Antonio harbored a grudge, a blood-debt. That, the wolf would understand.
The children would leave early in the morning, taking a brand-new SUV, bought just this afternoon, with a clean registry not tied to the Big family. The Hopps farm would be a great base of operations for them. The Hopps Clan had resources and knew how to keep quiet about family matters. Cynthia's ZIA partner had been given the clue where to find them, and if he merited half the praises his daughter sang of him, he would contact them with the all the extra support they needed to clean up this mess. They also had the backing of the ZPD and the Mayor's office.
Antonio hoped it would be enough, but he was preparing for a deeper game; he had always been the suspicious type.
7:03 PM
Kataiahs stretched, looking around for Trina. She had probably gotten hungry and went to get something to eat. Her scent lingered enticingly on him, making him chuckle. She was an adventurous little bunny, for sure, with a knack for surprising him. Uninhibited, too, he thought, reviewing their last session; he'd never done that with a bunny before. He hoped she wasn't disappointed with how soon it ended. Perhaps after they tried a few more times...
His stomach rumbled. He had skipped lunch and his stomach sought revenge for that slight, so he got out of bed, dressed, and headed to the dining car.
Even before he entered, he could pick out the doe's scent from the other mammals inside. He didn't see her as he walked in the car, but his ears picked up her laugh once he had passed the booth she was in. She wasn't alone, he knew, as he picked up the scent of an unfamiliar buck from where her laughter came.
He managed to sit in the booth next to theirs, more curious than anything else. Jealousy never entered his mind, since long years of experience had taught him bunnies were not the most exclusive creatures while single. The forest bunnies of the central regions were even less so, and Trina was a healthy, affectionate young bunny, far from inexperienced. But she also was very shy with strangers, so Kataiahs wondered at the sort of buck who could break through her shell so quickly. He ordered a drink from a waiter, then sat back to monitor the doe's social interaction patterns—more commonly known as eavesdropping.
The more he heard, however, the more the lynx worried. The buck did all the talking while Trina mostly purred and giggled. Soon her scent became overwhelmingly aroused and, as the train entered a tunnel, Kataiahs' sharp eyes managed to catch a glimpse of the doe from the reflection on the opposite window. Her pupils were fully dilated, showing no response to light, and her eyelids struggled to balance between being able to see and going blind from too much light.
She had been drugged.
Kataiahs summoned a waiter, a young weasel, for his check. When the waiter returned, Kataiahs paid for his check, then gave him five one-hundred-dollar bills.
"I need you to get that buck's phone or wallet, if you can," he said, looking towards the other booth. "Hang on to it and take it back to him after he leaves; he'll probably give you a tip." The weasel nodded—for five hundred bucks he'd beat the rabbit senseless since he was pretty sure the scumbag had slipped something in that pretty doe's drink.
Kataiahs left. Time to hunt.
He waited in the observation car, starting up a lively conversation with a lovely older tigress. After several minutes, the buck herded a barely-conscious Trina past them. Excusing himself from the tigress when the waiter appeared next, Kataiahs followed the weasel from a discreet distance until he saw him knock on the door of the buck's suite.
The weasel gave the rabbit his phone and pocketed a twenty-dollar bill in reward. He never saw Kataiahs, but he was a predator, and could smell him.
"Better hurry, dude," he said in passing. "Kick his ass."
Kataiahs had much harsher punishment in mind.
7:30 PM
Octavio strolled paw in paw with Chia down the promenade towards his...No; their...quarters. The two had enjoyed their first dinner as mates, which was to say, they had eaten together in public without anyone but themselves at the table. For Octavio, eating was eating, regardless of who was there. But Chia, well, Octavio had never expected to see her look so…radiant... just from sitting alone with him. She was completely at ease—which had not been the case when they'd eaten together before—not even caring when a bit of food slipped off her fork, or when he made her laugh so hard, she ended up spilling her drink over it. She—they—were in Love.
It was truly odd to the wolf. Such a simple word with such a profound effect, even on him. He found himself wanting to please her just to see her smile, which, overnight, had become the most precious thing to him. Not for his ambition, nor name, nor honor. Just her smile. He felt foolish, angrily so, but didn't care. For all he knew, he was just her next victim since she was thoroughly ruthless, but if so, he would consider himself a success if his demise resulted in her fortune. Stupid. So stupid, he knew, but didn't care, even should his grave-marker read 'A fool in love.'
Octavio's eyes suddenly widened as he caught the sweet scent of Chia aroused. What kind of nightmare was this 'love,' anyway, that caused mammals to lose control of themselves so thoroughly? His own body betrayed him in turn, responding of its own accord to her intimate scent, something he had always been able exert control over before. He looked down at his mate who, sure enough, was looking down at his trousers in surprise, noticing that response. She looked up at him, smiling…lovingly—that 'love' word again—slowing down to a stop, knowing—by some black art or other arcane means, he was sure—that he would kiss her. Which he did thoroughly and without hesitation.
Married mammals passed them by, smiling, holding paws and drawing closer together at the sight of the wolves kissing in the wide promenade, knowing the difference between the quick, heated kisses of sexual passion and the wolves' slow, deliberate kiss of a life-mated pair. The unmarried ones felt uncomfortable at the public display of affection, some also feeling they were missing out on something. The ones among them with a sharp sense of smell couldn't help but notice the couple's arousal, and the inexperienced ones among those couldn't fathom why the wolves would delay going to their quarters to mate.
The promenade of the Baratean Embassy overlooked Zootopia Bay, and the wolves strolled over to the glass to catch the view of the passenger ships, all lit up with colorful lights, making their way South to the open ocean and whatever their final destinations might be. Octavio stood behind Chia, his arms wrapped around her, and she leaned with her head against his muscular arms, her paws folded over his. They were both utterly aroused, yet content standing there, watching the view, knowing they would spend all evening enjoying each other.
"So, this is love," Chia said, dreamily. "I did not expect it to be so intoxicating."
"It is a bit overwhelming," Octavio agreed. "I know you can feel my desire, but it is enough for me to just stand here with you." He sighed, kissing her head. "I worry this 'love' thing will distract me."
Chia wiggled playfully against him, making him groan. "I shall satisfy that desire, my lord," she promised. "As you will mine. Together, we shall make sure this love that binds us is not a distraction. It makes us one, my lord."
Octavio smiled. "You are bound to me?" he asked, not in jest, but seeking assurance and hating himself for showing that weakness. Chia turned around to face him, looking up at him.
"Yes, my lord," she said softly. "Not two days ago, I would have happily slit your throat, and I would have, my lord, had you not come to me as you promised." She sighed and took his paws in hers. "Now, I cannot see myself living without you, as terribly cliché as that sounds. If that were not enough, I find I must be completely open with you. I have no choice, my lord; it is an unbearable pain in my heart to even think of deceiving you, and I would rather be flayed alive than hurt you." He kissed her.
"You hate it as much as I, don't you?" he asked. She nodded.
"I don't know what to do, my lord," she confessed. "I have no defense against this, and I have only survived by having strong defenses. I am completely at your mercy, my lord, and that terrifies me."
Octavio smiled at her, not a friendly or amused smile. All his teeth showed, but there was no threat to her, only safety. "You are my mate," he said, possessively. "You are my life now; as you breathe, so do I. You shall never have anything to fear from me." To prove his words, he went down on his knees and raised his head to stare at the ceiling in a classic pose straight out of a period drama. Paws flying to her muzzle, Chia gasped at the gesture, her own reaction likewise mirroring countless TV shows.
Tears running from her eyes, she rubbed her cheeks along the underside of Octavio's muzzle and down his throat, painstakingly marking him with her scent. Mammals around the promenade clapped and cheered at the couple, many taking pictures and a few quicker-thinking ones even taking videos, being witnesses to something very rare that they would be able to tell their kits about.
A royal wedding.
7:45 PM
Trina had slipped off her top while the buck retrieved and prepared his phone. Another knock sent the buck yelling to open the door.
"What now!" he screamed, then stared up at Kataiahs, eyes going wide with recognition. "You-you're n-not real."
Kataiahs' ears went flat; that reaction always peeved him. He lifted the buck by his neck with one paw and stepped into the suite, closing the door behind him.
"Then you have nothing to fear," he growled, his teeth a whisker's breadth away from the buck's face, squeezing his neck until the rabbit could barely breathe.
"Are you afraid?" he whispered by the buck's ear. The rabbit's loosening bladder answered the question.
The buck struggled in vain, trying to kick, but Kataiahs caught the rabbit's legs with his free arm. "You are going to die now," he calmly told the squirming rabbit. "The only question is how long it will take—and how painful it will be."
"You see," the lynx said, annoyed, "I made it clear—in writing, no less—what would happen if anyone interfered with my charges." He twisted the buck painfully around so he could see Trina, now unconscious on the bed.
"Drugging this sweet little doe qualifies," Kataiahs growled, "as I am sure you intended more than a simple tryst, seeing that you obviously know who I am, and therefore, who she is." The buck shook his head frantically and burbled denial.
"So," the lynx asked. "How much mercy do you deserve? You could have poisoned her with one of so many lethal drugs, some even painless. Did you?" The rabbit shook his head vehemently. Kataiahs sighed.
"And that is the problem," he said, sadly. "No. Instead of a quick, merciful death, you drugged my charge so you could bring her here, humiliate her, rape her, then probably strangle her—since your kind seem to like the feeling of power strangling a victim brings." He shook his head slowly, sighing, then looked down.
"I was going to ask if you had called anyone to report your find," he said, staring amusedly at the buck's phone on the floor. "But your phone appears to be unlocked, waiting for you to record your 'conquest' of this defenseless bunny, so I don't need to ask that question anymore. I can simply look for myself—Which is fortunate, indeed, since I would hate to pass up this opportunity at a great teaching moment for your brethren." He pushed the record button with his toe and flipped the phone over so it could record what was about to happen. His stomach growled again, reminding him he had not eaten yet. He would remedy that soon enough.
He always did like rabbit.
Author's Note:
Did you enjoy this chapter? The sequencing was difficult, but I hope effectively entertaining.
Until next time,
Thanks for reading!