BlindHeat by Nara Malone Read Free Book Online Page A

the next letter.
Marcus was trying to convince himself what he saw on the screen was random,
coincidental. After all, it wasn’t an actual word.
    bunnym
    Oliver sat on his haunches, whiskers wiggling, paw hovering,
head tipped sideways as he studied the screen. Mimicry, Marcus decided. Jake
sat in front of the screen nearly every waking hour. Didn’t all young animals
mimic their caregivers? Oliver’s paw descended again. The “m” vanished. A space
appeared, followed by an “m” and an “e”.
    Marcus slid a palm under the bunny’s ample middle and tucked
him firmly in the crook of his left arm. Now, how to erase the bunny’s addition
without wiping out the lines of programming code Jake had above them? Beyond
the basic letters and numbers, several keys were labeled. “Esc” and “Del” meant
nothing to him. “Enter” sounded ominous. “Backspace” sounded promising.
    It was. He backspaced, erasing the statement letter by
letter. He needed a backspace key for time, something to delete Oliver’s
experiences minute by minute. He needed an undo button for the image branded in
his brain—Hella caged somewhere, her bid to free herself and her little ones
defeated. Confirmation that she might comprehend death or realize that her
offspring were tortured in unthinkable ways had his frustration level rising
like mercury in a thermometer. And now this.
    bunny me
    The concept itself was more of a feat than communicating
with symbols. The concept of a “me”, that “me” in Oliver’s case meant bunny,
was a level of self-awareness only attributed to Pantherians and—to a lesser
degree, of course—to humans.
    Marcus stepped back. His fingers found the special spot
behind Oliver’s right ear, dipped into silky black fur and rubbed. Oliver
tipped his head to get the full effect, his eyes closed.
    “Don’t do that again,” Marcus whispered.
    Oliver’s teleporting siblings had caused enough trouble.
    “Besides, if you mess up one of Jake’s computers we’ll be
back to finding you a new home.” Not that Jake had formally agreed to keep
Oliver. Marcus had used the old “just until I find someone to take him” line.
    Oliver’s eyes opened. He looked into Marcus’ eyes, a clear
steady gaze Marcus assumed was meant to impart some knowledge, but he couldn’t
find a connection the way he had with Hella. He had to rely on the inferior
spoken words to covey his messages.
    “Let’s keep this our secret. Okay?”
    There was no sign of understanding, just the same steady
gaze.
    The heavy thud of Jake’s boots on the stairs ended the
stare-down.
    “Thanks for watching the shop, Magus. You’re not mucking
around with my laptop, are you?”
    Marcus turned. “Guilty.” He tried to hand Oliver off to
Jake.
    Jake backed away and folded his arms across his broad chest,
shaking his head, a rusty mane of curls bouncing to give emphasis. “Sorry,
Magus. You know I would follow you into the pits of hell. The place you found
him probably qualifies, but if you’re going to insist on stealing these lab
experiments, you can’t keep dropping them off on me.”
    “It’s Marcus now, Jake.”
    “I don’t see why I can’t address you with the respect you
deserve in private and don’t try changing the subject.”
    “I appreciate your loyalty, my friend, but you need to make
using my first name second nature. If we’re going to avoid unwanted attention,
we need to conform to local customs, blend in rather than stand out.”
    Not one to dwell on errors, Marcus moved back to the problem
in hand. He cradled the bunny and stroked its belly, watched it go limp with
pleasure. At seven feet and more than two hundred and fifty pounds, Jake’s
agitation seemed out of proportion to the size of the problem. “He’s barely as
big as a bread loaf. How much trouble can he be?”
    “Obviously there was trouble. Didn’t you give him to Ben?
Why is he back with you? Or, more accurately, with me?”
    Marcus shrugged, kept his tone