Sagittarius Saves Libra (Signs of Love)

“Would we call it a wallaby? Not a crazed kangaroo?”

Owen’s lips curled. “Crazed, all right. I came over to help him out, and something just clicked between us. It was like . . . I’d never really seen him before.”

Their eyes met, and Jason smirked quietly. “Exactly the same for me. You were like this glorious god on my porch, absolutely glistening with—” He sat straighter in his seat. Probably not the details to give ‘Mum’. “I mean, uh, you were very kind, and within a few days I knew you were a man I needed in my life.” He looked back at Patricia and a very curious Cora. “In fact, I’ve practically been living with him since. And now here we are, sharing this with you.”

A gust of wind rocked the car. A deafening rumble. Owen braked, flinging out an arm against Jason’s chest. Violent rain drove against the roof, the road. Through it, Jason glimpsed soil and half a tree that had slipped to the road. Owen eyed the banks and trees to their left. “Right.”

He threw an arm behind Jason’s seat and reversed deftly until he reached a turning bay. He drove swiftly out of the hilly range and pulled over under the cover of a gas station to make a call. “Mum? The road to my place is blocked from the cyclone. Prepare the spare beds, Jason and I are staying with you and bringing Cora and Patricia with us.” A throaty laugh, and a look at Jason. “It was quite the night.”

Jason smiled sheepishly as Owen put the car in gear and drove back out into the storm. He had rather complicated this whole twin-swap, hadn’t he? He should be careful not to get carried away again.

“Oh God, stop the car!”

Owen came to a controlled stop. “You all right?”

Jason stared out through the slanting rain. He made out the form of a cat lying on the side of the road, under a tree. Could it still be alive? Ten years ago, his own precious Casper had been lost like that. He’d been devastated. He’d always thought, if someone had spotted him early enough . . .

He twisted to Cora. “That blanket behind you—pass it to me?”

She did.

He clicked open his belt and Owen planted a staying hand on his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Phone an after-hours vet.” He jumped out of the car into a beasty wind. Rain sluiced over his face and down his neck, but he was across the road in seconds. Leaves from a fallen branch partially obscured the cat. It wasn’t . . . it wasn’t moving. But it was still warm. He thought he felt a heartbeat.

A car door shut.

He used the blanket to scoop the poor thing up, covering it to keep it from going into shock.

Footsteps splashed toward him and Owen was at his side, holding another blanket up over them. It was cop Owen. Concerned and capable. “Got it?”

Jason nodded and they hurried back into the car. He cradled the poor thing and peeked under the blankets, but in the dark it was hard to see. No blood as far as he could make out. Funny-looking though. A breed he wasn’t familiar with. Bit of a long snout, wasn’t it?

Um, too long?

Those claws . . .

Oh, God.

It twitched on his lap, and he froze in his seat.

Had he, er, seen one of these once? At the zoo?

Patricia and Cora were chatting in the backseat, and Jason whispered, “Owen?”

“Hm?”

“You know how you said this has been quite the night . . .”

Owen glanced at him and did a double-take, probably at the fear crystalised on Jason’s face. His gaze dropped to the blankets and up again, and it was like . . . he knew. He could read every one of Jason’s freaked-out spasms.

Jason lifted a shaky finger to his lips and nodded as smoothly as he could toward the audience in the backseat. Probably . . . probably a local would have recognised this cat for what it really was. Carl would never have made this mistake.

Owen gassed it up a cul-de-sac and as he drove up a long gravel driveway, he reached over and tugged down the blanket with a dry “What the devil” and a disbelieving headshake.

Jason squeaked out a laugh. “Just a wee oopsie.”

From the back, Cora leaned forward. “Oopsie?”

Widened eyes. “The uh, cat scratched me a little. Nothing to worry about.”

Owen parked. “Cora, Patricia, go on in, my parents are expecting you. We’ll just get our . . . cat to safety.”

As soon as their doors shut, Owen was once again reversing. Speedily.

“Will the vet be able to help it?”

“I’d say it’s just gone into torpor.”

“Sounds serious.”

A groaning laugh. “Torpor means it’s playing dead.”

The devil in his lap twitched.

His heart jumped into his throat. “These devils are kind, cuddly creatures, aren’t they? Badly named, that’s all. That cartoon one was all exaggerated. Right?” Another stirring on his lap. “Pleasedon’tsayotherwise.”