Lil Gibson - Feline Predators Of Ganz 01 - Zorroc.pdf - Lil Gibson - beilic_petro

ZORROC

Feline Predators of Ganz

Lil Gibson

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s

imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places, organizations, or persons,

living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

ZORROC

ISBN: 1-59836-232-1

except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. Printed and bound in the United States of America.

For information, you can find us on the web at

www.VenusPress.com

Acknowledgements

First to my editor, Deborah Lynne, an outstanding novelist in her own right, who

made the editing process both educational and so much fun.

Second is to my wonderful husband, who was forced to read Zorroc from the first

version to the four-thousandth. You are my hero, honey.

Third to Lynn Pittenger, who tirelessly helps me with the rules of writing. (Notice I

spelled your name right this time<G>)

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my mother, Connie Shaffer, who forever accused me of

having a vivid imagination.

I guess she was right…again.

The Dream

Quiet. So quiet. Too quiet.

He raised his eyelids a fraction to confirm the coming dawn. Nadia's pet tornika should

have been clicking happily outside his chambers, the birds greeting each other, and the coming

dawn in their individual dialects, and the Apis digging noisily through the brush outside his

window for fresh Scarubs. He rose slowly from his mat and moved to the window, then pressed

the pad to release the translucent covering. The dawn broke, surreally muted, as if a layer of

gauze had encased the House of Ra. It was not the mist that rose from the lagoons with majestic

eeriness, which hung no more than a few calabrays from the surface. This mist was falling from

the sky. But, that was impossible; Gattonia had been free of pollutants for centuries...

He started at the sound of pounding feet barreling toward his panel. Was he dreaming? Then his

protector and a team of militia poured through the sliding panel and entered his chambers. They simply

stared at one another for a few moments before everyone began speaking at once.

The Dargons had COM’d that they had left a calling card in the wind. The Gattonians

were all but finished as a race and must evacuate or face more of the same.

As leader of his people, he had heard of the environmental expungers but they existed two

galaxies away. How had they come to be near their planet of Ganz?

His visions revealed a kaleidoscope of horror that no one could have anticipated or prepared

for. The Dargons had laid in a virus which targeted their females. Many writhed in agony, spewing their

insides, ejecting their female organs where they lay. Many died and many more were hopelessly

deformed in both body and spirit. Almost all were rendered infertile.

Their finest Med-techs could not find a way to treat the afflicted, merely alleviate their

pain and watch them suffer an agony so horrid that suicide was becoming a problem among the

males.

He could only watch as the female population of Gattonia withered…while he and the

other males suffered no side effects. What kind of evil could conceive something so diabolical? A

helpless tidal wave of rage, hate…and fear swelled within him until he choked with it. He was

their leader and their guardian. He was responsible for their safety. He had failed them and

failed himself.

Now the monsters were coming again. He could feel it. Silently, lethally and this time…

"Nooo!" he screamed as he tumbled off his mat covered in sweat and disoriented.

He sucked in a deep calming breath and rose. It was the nightmare again, replaying images that

he lived with day and night. The horror, rage, and fear that would not recede but resided inside him like

a malignant growth. He sank back onto his mat and raked his hands through his mane. Zazu, who was

he kidding. He was not having a nightmare; his life was a nightmare.

Chapter One

Earth 2027

Zorroc of the House of Ra, Province of Gattonia, had not planned to take her this soon, but time

had run out. He had spent the last day and a half studying her and conferring with those assigned to

watch her, planning how to spring his trap. He did not want to make it harder on her than need be or

frighten her unduly, but capturing her attention completely and laying his first snare in this game she could

not win had been tricky. The right tone had to be set. If he simply transhifted her to his ship, she could

become disoriented and be of no use to them when they required her cooperation. To steal her in her

sleep could end in a similar result.

He had no use for hysterical, unstable females. Therefore, he would appeal to her romantic

nature, a prominent force in her make-up, so he had been informed; then take her. She was a scattered

little thing who thought she believed in destiny and all manner of metaphysical phenomenon. Well, destiny

was about to make an appearance and destroy the course of her world forever. He smiled grimly. He

enjoyed his role as predator far more than his role as leader, but his own destiny had interfered with his

enjoyment all too often of late.

He came from an ancient race of predators and the compulsion to hunt, capture, and tease ran

strong in their lines. Though, as civilized beings, they did not often give in to that part of their nature; in

this case he looked forward to acting the exception. Females of other races reacted with barely

constrained sexual fervor to what they perceived as a dangerous edge to their species. They enjoyed

being dominated and controlled. Surely, this female would prove no different.

On several occasions, he materialized at the foot of her bed in deep night to observe her sleeping

peacefully, her covers barely registering a ripple to expose her slight form. Other times, he watched her

from a distance interacting with friends and co-workers. He did not understand the streak of molten

anticipation that grew within him with each sighting of her. Or why her unremarkable presence, when

compared to her friends, filled him with unaccustomed warmth.

He and his protector had seated themselves at a table nestled in the shadows of Grumpy's, a bar

and eating establishment attached to the shopping mall. Apparently, a favorite meeting place for Catarina

and her two friends. She had arrived scant moments later, packages in hand from shopping as she

settled on a bar stool, legs crossed and swinging in time to an internal melody only she could hear, then

commenced conversing and laughing with the bartender.

"Is she never still?" Prolinc asked grumpily. "We have watched her for more than a quarter hour

and she has not stopped squirming for an instant. If it is not her leg then her hands flit in tandem with her

mouth, as well as her other three thousand movable parts. Are you sure she possesses even a drop of

our blood? It does not seem possible," he concluded, slouched in his chair.

Zorroc turned his head slightly in contemplation, all the while fighting a grin. It represented a

primary Gattonian trait, their stillness of form and spirit. "Yes, I am sure of her bloodline, though she is

rather…animated. After studying her these last days, I am becoming accustomed to it." He shrugged.

"Even her hair flows around her in perpetual motion much like the clouds over Gattonia," he softly

murmured.

His gaze returned to Cat. She was small for an earth female and slight of build. Her dark,

undisciplined auburn hair curled around her delicate features and halfway down her back. Her large,

almond shaped eyes, a stunning asset, shone like emeralds, revealing the essence of her being.

Zorroc suddenly stilled, riveting his attention on the bartender whose eyes appeared glued to

Cat's unbound breasts as they gently swayed, nipples hardening slightly from the constant brush of her

midnight blue sweater. "The bartender behaves over-solicitous toward Catarina, does he not?" Zorroc

growled, wanting to take her that very second, to Hell with planning and finesse.

"Over-solicitous of her breasts, perhaps," his friend replied merrily. A hiss escaped Prolinc as his

gaze lit on and followed a blonde female proceeding across the room heading toward the bar. Sleek

wheat colored hair piled atop her head accentuated the graceful curve of her neck. His gaze traced over

large lush breasts to a tiny waist and grazed over legs that went on forever, exposed by a tight fitting short

skirt. She approached Cat and the two greeted one another like long lost friends. "Who is she?" Prolinc

demanded.

"She is one of Catarina's companions. Dee is her name; she is a law-upholder, I am told. And if

you can take your eyes from her for a moment you will see Angel winding her way toward them."

Prolinc studied the three unabashedly, missing nothing. Physically, the females shared none of the

same attributes. Oh, all were attractive, but in diverse ways. Angel, tall, willowy, and black as night had

an exotic beauty rarely seen in an earth woman. Dee was as light as Angel was dark and as lush as

Angel was slight. Catarina, dwarfed by the other two, brimmed with motion and mischief setting her

apart from her friends' more sedate demeanors. And while her curly hair billowed around her, putting

him in mind of a wood nymph, the other two had smooth long silken hair, Angel's worn loose and Dee's

braided and intricately coiled, exposing the creamy expanse of her neck.

Cat suddenly straightened in her chair and scanned the room.

"Does she sense us?" asked Prolinc, breaking the silence.

"No," Zorroc disparaged. "She is an untrained earth-bounder and not aware of her innate

capabilities, if in fact, she possesses them," grunting his last words with disgust at her lack of training and

poor handling by her parents. "All her thoughts remain centered on her friends."

"You read her with ease, and though I am the stronger telepath, I cannot."

"It is a puzzle," Zorroc admitted softly to his life-bonded friend.

Actually, the three of them were a puzzle, Zorroc acknowledged as he watched them interact.

They embodied the phrase “polar opposites” and he wondered what they found to talk about; but

whenever he observed them, the three spilled words on each other more drenching than the monsoons of

Kadeer. His sources had researched Cat's background for over a year and gathered a very

comprehensive portfolio of her past. She had been enrolled at the local ed-center at six years of age and

met Angel and Dee almost immediately. The three boarded together year-round until graduation and

forged a bond stronger than family. Though Cat's parents still lived, their work with Earth's space

program took precedence over their only child. When Zorroc learned that her parents had visited her a

mere handful of times since childhood, he found himself outraged on her behalf.

She now lived with two aunts who had shown up on her doorstep close to a year ago. They

were purported to be her mother's older sisters and quite a surprise for Cat, because growing up she had

not been aware of their existence. Now they took care of her, or she of them, depending on the

circumstance.

Cat began filling her friends in on her latest booking, a Sci-fi convention set to commence in a

little more than a week.

"So I decided to change it to the downtown convention center. With William Shatner and over

fifteen-hundred attendees expected, I didn't think Lindsey Hall would be large enough," Cat continued,

while taking a sip of her drink. "So that will be two weekends in a row for other-worldly pursuits with

the Tarot Assembly scheduled for this weekend. Do you think you can attend both?" she asked in a

rush, eyes flashing back and forth between her friends.

Dee and Angel slid a knowing glance at each other in silent communication. "We'll show for both

weekends if you spill about your date with dreamy Dennis last Saturday night. Dating is quite the

monumental leap for you and we demand the juiciest details," Angel asserted in her soft southern accent.

"Uh, it didn't go all that well actually," Cat confessed, while studying the intricate designs the salt

made close to the rim of her glass. "What is it with guys these days? They take you out for dinner and a

movie and think it entitles them to get lucky by the end of the evening! Well, he didn't get lucky and I

doubt dippy Dennis will be back for more." She shrugged. "He was a centipede. I guess you have to

kiss a lot of centipedes before one turns into a man, huh?"

"You kissed him?" the surprised duo gasped.

"Ick, barf! No, I didn't kiss him, who'd want to kiss an octopus with the body of a centipede; he

kissed me and let me tell you there couldn't exist a slimier set of non-lips on the planet. He started out as

Lil Gibson - Feline Predators Of Ganz 01 - Zorroc.pdf

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