"Cat." The voice came at the same time a hand touched Cat's shoulder. "Wake up, sweetie. You have to get ready for work."
Blinking against the wedge of light emanating from the bathroom, Cat saw Tara sitting next to her on the bed. Tara. Oh, God. Tara and Faith. She shot upright then scooted back to put as much room as possible between them.
Tired blue eyes watched Cat's actions. "We need to talk, Cat, but now is really not the time," Tara said. She appeared more worn and worried than Cat had ever witnessed. When she noticed Cat watching her, though, Tara's expression smoothed out. "I left breakfast warming on the stove. Faith and I have to stop by the hotel for a change of clothes. Please tell Detective Rizzoli that we're running a little late."
Tara wasn't telling Cat everything. Cat didn't even need her years as a cop to spot the evasion. "What's wrong?"
With a more natural smile, Tara shook her head. "Not now, sweetie." She got up and dropped a gentle kiss on Cat's lips. "I promise I'll explain everything as soon as I can. Just…Just remember. Faith and I are here for you whenever you need us. Remember that, Cat."
The statement had the force of an order, but Cat didn't understand. "Are you OK?" Wait a minute. Cat untangled from the nest of sheets and jumped from the bed. Faith wasn't in the room, and Cat didn't hear anyone else in the apartment. "Where's Faith?"
"You and Willow. The resemblance just keeps growing." She stood and picked up her discarded backpack, looping it over one shoulder. "You see too much for your own good."
That didn't sound good. In fact, that sounded the opposite of good. What had Cat done when she'd called and set last night into motion? Cat strode toward the bedroom door. She had to see Faith; had to talk to her, explain.
"Faith's fine. Or…She will be." Somehow, Tara intercepted Cat. She blocked her path, and it was clear she was not getting out of the way. "We pushed Faith out of her comfort zone last night." Meeting Cat's eyes, Tara continued. "Don't you dare blame yourself, Cat. I can see the wheels turning in your head now. It wasn't your fault. The decision to bring Faith and put her in charge was mine."
Cat didn't buy it. "If I hadn't…"
Tara imperiously snapped up a hand, and Cat automatically stopped talking. "I am Faith's Domme."
The words rubbed like sandpaper over Cat's already exposed emotions. "So?" Cat dared Tara to tell her something she didn't already know – and hate.
"I shouldn't have to tell you that as her Domme," Tara stressed that point again, "it's my job to give Faith what she needs, even if it isn't what she think she wants." Her voice softened and she placed a gentle hand on Cat's cheek. "You were what she needed last night, sweetie. You and the gift of your submission."
A little tendril of warmth uncoiled around Cat's heart. She'd given Faith something she needed. Faith needed her. "But…"
"But this is what Faith does when she gets scared, Cat. She runs." Tara didn't appear upset by that, merely accepting. "Once she has a chance to think about things, she'll be fine. Faith's past…" Tara broke off and peered intently at Cat.
"I know…well… Faith said she didn't trust herself. That she'd…done things," Cat offered. It hurt, deep inside, to know that what Faith had said to her outside the coffee shop was the first glimpse into Faith's life Cat had. Faith had never shared anything even when their bond existed.
Tara continued to watch Cat closely for another minute before her shoulders slumped and she sighed. Whatever she'd been looking for, she apparently hadn't found, and Cat wanted to ask what it was. She didn't, though, because Tara stepped away. "Come on. You need breakfast and a shower. I don't want Detective Rizzoli to be upset with you for being late."
"What about…" Cat wasn't willing to let Tara off the hook so easily.
She'd forgotten that Dominants didn't respond well to pushy submissives. One of Tara's eyebrows arched and there was a hint of frost in her next comment. "Eat breakfast, Cat. Eat, take a shower, and go to work."
Cat managed to fight the edict for all of two seconds. Damned arrogant Dominant. "Yes, Ma'am," Cat choked out.
Another sigh, a soft kiss, and Tara left the apartment. The quiet closing of the door echoed through the apartment. On autopilot, Cat followed Tara's final order to the letter. An amazing breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes. A long hot shower.
The Cat Train derailed as she put on her jacket and headed for the door. A white envelope rested on the hardwood just inside the apartment.
Frowning, Cat picked it up, carefully using only her fingertips and the very edges of the envelope. She turned it over. No stamp or postmark. Absolutely no writing. She sniffed it. No perfume (not that she normally received perfumed letters stuffed under her door). Cat returned to the kitchen. She kept a pair of rubber cleaning gloves under the sink. After pulling those on, she used the tip of a paring knife to slice open the envelope and an awkwardly large pair of hot dog tongs to pull out the slip of paper inside.
The typed message was blunt.
Tell your Domme about the broken bond. Tell her who you really are.
Cat stared at the paper in horror. Her first instinct was to destroy the note and go to work as if she'd never seen it. She'd tell Jane – and her contact at the Legion – that she'd never received the envelope. That there hadn't been the promised "task" waiting for her this morning.
Even as Cat considered that option, she discarded it. Six people had died. So far, Cat was the best hope the team had for preventing more deaths. She had to stay in character; had to take this information to Jane and the rest of the taskforce. The only question was: how? How could she reveal the truth that the Legion's order revealed?
She could lie. Tell everyone that she'd run into her Domme somewhere in the city. They could use another detective to play a part, and Cat could enact a public scene where she told the woman about the broken bond.
That would work, and it would keep Cat's secret safe.
Except…Cat didn't want to do it that way. The Legion might be a crazy cult bent on world domination and death, but they had one thing absolutely correct. Cat needed to move on from her bond, and the only way she'd ever know she'd done that was to tell Faith. Tell Faith and see that there was not even a glimmer of recollection or recognition in Faith's eyes.
With shaking hands, Cat dropped the letter and envelope into a Ziploc baggie and stripped off the rubber gloves. She was going to do it. She was going to tell Faith.
The thought repeated on an endless loop in Cat's mind during the drive to the station house. Fairly bouncing with anticipation, she strode through the bullpen straight for the conference room. And that's where her plan hit a snag.
The room was already filled. Korsak and Frost hovered over Frost's laptop. Jane flipped through case files with Maura standing right behind her, one hand idly stroking Jane's arm. Uniformed officers clustered near the walls, chatting and waiting for someone to tell them what to do.
Then there was Tara. Sitting calmly in the midst of the bustle, she watched Cat hover in the doorway. Faith sat cross-legged at Tara's feet, head resting against Tara's knee. She, too, watched Cat.
It was enough to stop Cat in her tracks. Faith appeared at peace. Whatever she might have felt this morning, whatever had sent her running after their scene last night, Faith was completely at ease in her submission to Tara right now.
"Morning," Cat said, surprised at how normal her voice sounded. "Jane, can I talk to you and Maura next door?" It was harder than Cat had thought it would be to tack on, "You, too, please Tara." The "please" snuck in to the request, a subconscious nod to the role Tara played in her hastily revised strategy.
"What's the matter, Cat? You don't like suave older men anymore?" Korsak teased.
She managed a wink. "I didn't think you'd leave Dana for me, Sir, so I had to move on." She stepped back into the bullpen to allow her soon-to-be co-conspirators out of the conference room and heard Korsak's laugh at her response.
The small group was quiet as they traded one conference room for another. "Something happen?" Jane was all business.
"Yeah," Cat admitted. She closed the door and leaned against it as she held out the baggie holding the Legion's note. "I found this under the door this morning."
Jane took the bag and laid it on the table behind her before donning a pair of latex gloves. "They move fast. Didn't the guy last night say it would be twenty-four hours? Did they make you, Cat?"
It was a possibility; yet Cat didn't think her identity had been discovered. Tara's friend had done a good job of sticking close to reality. Cat's alter ego, Cat Matthews, was a detective in Vice. Why would the Legion dig farther than that? "I don't think so. The test. It's based on some things I told Alina and the group at that session in North End."
Still pressed against the door, Cat watched Jane carefully remove the envelope and note. "Wow. What the hell did you tell them?" she asked after reading the typed lines. "How can you tell your Domme anything? I thought you lost your bond a long time ago."
"I did." Cat realized she was sweating heavily and shucked off her coat. "During the session, though, I got a little carried away." It was still too hot. Or cold. Cat's hands were freezing even as her face and neck heated. "I told them that my bondmate had showed up at work and that she didn't remember who I was." The relief of actually saying that was almost crippling, and Cat prayed that no one in the room realized it was truth rather than fiction.
Gauging reactions, Cat was confident that no one had a clue. Jane and Maura were preoccupied with the note, and Tara had wandered to the window at the back of the room. Good. That was good. She'd gotten over the first hurdle. "I was thinking I could get a Domme and sub pair to pose as my bondmate and her new Dominant. Do a big scene somewhere public."
"That's excellent, Cat." Maura nodded approvingly. "Jane or I could recommend someone to play the couple."
It wasn't what Cat had in mind. "Actually, I was thinking Tara and Faith could do it." No one said anything, and Cat rushed into her "rational" explanation. "In the group session, I told everyone my bondmate turned up a few days ago – just like Faith and Tara. And I said my Dominant was now a sub. Not to mention someone, maybe from the Legion, spotted me and Faith together at Marine Park."
"Hmmm, it could work. Tara?" Jane turned to the only member of the four-woman group who'd remained silent.
Tara turned away from the window. "It's a good plan." Her eyes locked with Cat's. "Are you sure you want to do this, though? Once you do, there's no going back. Can you live with that?"
Feeling as if she'd missed something, Cat hesitated. "I have to do this," she said with complete honesty. Now that the Legion had planted the idea, she had to tell Faith. This little charade would allow her to do it without having to admit her real relationship to Faith.
Unless, of course, Faith suddenly remembered.
And that was something Cat was afraid to hope for. "We need someone inside the Legion, and I've got a really good shot at that – if we do this."
"It's your choice, Detective," Tara stated. "If this is what you want, Faith and I are happy to help."
Faneuil Hall Marketplace was packed. Cat wrinkled her nose and trudged after Tara and Faith. She'd wanted someplace busy, not the city's worst tourist trap. Still, if Faith and Tara were visiting Boston, it was a good bet they'd end up here eventually.
"Hey, there any place to eat around here, tiger?" Faith didn't know about the plan. Tara had been very clear on that point. If Faith knew, she might not respond with the right level of surprise when Cat made her declaration.
The declaration. Cat's chance to finally tell Faith the truth. Now that it was time, Cat thought she might throw up. Her stomach churned and bile burned her throat. If she had to smell food, too… "Sure. There's food," she snapped. How the Hell could Faith think about food at a time like this?
Faith narrowed her eyes. "You got a problem you want to tell me about?"
And just like that, Cat forgot about her nerves. She forgot about the plan. She simply reacted to Faith's tone. "Yeah, there is." One stride put her right in Faith's personal space. "I'm tired of you playing like you're my Domme. You are my Domme!"
People streamed around them; only a few paused to stare. Cat ignored them in favor of watching Faith.
"Tiger, calm down." Faith was all gentle as she pushed Cat out of the pedestrian traffic and onto one of the benches along the wall. Tara trailed along. "Just because we played last night, it doesn't mean..."
"Shut up, Faith. Just. Shut. Up."