The Wonderful Adventures of Bea Andrews (EDITING, IN PROGRESS)

Chapter 4

I step back as the door swings open like a bank vault. Three sets of golden, glowing eyes stare back at me. My jaw falls open and my hands start flapping. Oh boy, this is cool. I whisper, "Hey, kitties." I hear Maggie rumble a greeting. One of the cats stands and the eyes grow closer. The heavy steps cause me to nearly loose balance as they walk closer to me. I strain to see which cat is moving towards me, but the animal could be River or Maggie. They have a long body like River but built like Maggie. They seem shorter than both and seem to blend into the darkness of the barn. It makes an odd chattering noise, and I step towards it. "Hey, buddy. What's your name?"

Uncle Brady states, making me jump and the creature spook farther back into the barn, "That's up to you. If all goes to plan, she'll be all yours. Just don't tell Jakob, please. He'll be pissed." I nod, my heart pounding and palms sweating. The creature hisses, large white fangs gleaming in the dark. I inch closer and she hisses again. Uncle Brady explains, "She isn't... super tame. Ever since she's been born, she hasn't had the social exposure that Maggie and River had. That's why we took her in... she was an unintentional breeding, and the owners had no idea how to handle her. Poor thing. So, she was locked away for the first years of her life. Now we can barely coax her out of the barn." I nod and back off. The creature stops hissing but continues to stare with unblinking golden eyes. Maggie rumbles again and the creature lets out a croaky growl. She slinks back into the rear of the barn and my shoulders slump. She seems to not like me very much.

I ask, wringing my hands, "Is she okay?" The beast scoffs as if replying before tucking herself out of view.

Uncle Brady sighs, "That's the issue. We don't know. She's so reclusive that it's difficult to check on her physical wellbeing. I have hope she'll warm up to you though. She already is doing much better than she did with Peggie or myself." Uncle Brady turns on a small side light and I jump. The light exposes the two older cats curled up on the floor, staring at us with now constricting pupils. River stands first, stretching his long frame like a house cat might. He trots towards us with a curious expression. His wings shuffle with every step, his wyvern-like forelegs pulling him forward like a bat. He chatters at Uncle Brady, who gently pushes me inside the barn. He pulls the door shut and latches it behind us. Uncle Brady chirps, dusting off his hands, "Time for food, eh, River? Wanna have some food? Well, our new friend Bea is going to learn her first lesson in cat care today: How to safely feed you overgrown house cats." My eyes widen and I follow after Uncle Brady. We enter a small stall reinforced with steel bars. Uncle Brady swings the door shut. River chatters with excitement, his round, brown ears perked up. His whiskers twitch as he sniffs at the small window near the door. His nose fills the window, creating an odd suction effect as he smells us. He lets out a low grunt and sits down outside the door.

I ask, playing with the buttons on my jacket, "So... Where did Rosey... I mean... What do you know about her?" Uncle Brady fights with a latch on a large wooden crate, muttering under his breath in the dim stall. Something scratches at the door, probably River.

He states, reefing on the latch with a foot braced against the crate, "Margret heard about her at a Riders' meet a few months ago. She came home in tears. Apparently..." He lets go of the latch and stops to catch his breath. He continues, hands on his hips, "Her owners got visited unexpectedly by a male Blood Panther that escaped from a now defunct breeding establishment." He walks over to a pile of tools, anger tinting his cheeks red. He states, heaving a large hammer onto his shoulder, "I don't suppose you know this, but..." He heaves the hammer at the latch. It doesn't budge. He grunts, talking between swings, "Blood Panthers... are quite ruthless... if they choose a mate... and during breeding season... they will not hesitate to seek out a mate if necessary... Though, they're usually monogamous for life... so why... this one decided..." He throws the hammer to the ground with a loud bang. He continues, glaring at the chest, which now has several dents, "To find a different mate is... beyond me. However, the male got in with a female Sumatran Bat Tiger... And now Rosey, despite the odds, is here. We are registered to rehabilitate Winged Felines." I nod and he glances at me with a sheepish grin.

I ask, pointing at the chest, "Do you need some help?" His expressions turns sour as he glares at the chest.

He laughs, pointing at the hammer, "If you think you can open it, go wild. I need to go ask Margret if she enchanted it to keep Mr. Big Appetite out of it." He steps out and states, presumably at River, "This is your fault, Mr. I Break into The Feed Room." The door to the shed opens and shuts. I grab the handle of the hammer and attempt to heave it onto my shoulder the way Uncle Brady did. My shoulder and bicep muscles scream in agony as I yank on the handle. I groan, draw a deep breath, widen my stance, and give a strong heave. The hammer flies off the floor. The weight pushes me back. My feet fly out from under me, and everything goes black.

***

Why is my face wet? And scratchy? My eyes pop open and I see a wall of deep brown. I reach out and my hands brush against thick, soft fur. Did a blanket land on me? I push against it, but it doesn't budge. "Bea? Where are you?" I groan, and it echoes through the space as a deep rumble. I grab the blanket, and it twitches. I let out a startled yelp and try to scoot backwards. Before I can move, something grabs my torso and lifts me off the ground. A scream tears out of my throat as I sway back and forth in the air. I begin to move forward, yelling and thrashing. What feel like teeth are gently holding onto my riding gear, carrying me like a dejected kitten. I hear a loud snarl and my heart begins to pound. We exit the feed room and I let out a holler. My feet dangle beneath me as I am carried like a child's toy across the barn. I turn my head. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see a pile of straw and dirt is stacked in the corner under a loft. The creature kidnapping me lets out a low grunt and turns towards the cat-made cavern. My heart drops to the floor. I am about to be cat food. I knew cats could eat people, but I never thought they'd actually do it! I thrash, but the creature is undisturbed. The creature lumbers over to the nest and gently tosses me into the air. I shriek, bracing for impact. I roll across the floor of the massive cave, stopping when I contact the wall. I heave in deep breaths, my ribs aching. The straw crunches as the beast moves closer, ready to finish me off. Warm breath fans against my back, so I roll over. I finally get a glance at the beasts' face. It's Rosey. She has a curious expression on her face, if that's possible. She turns away from me, placing a large, brown wing over me and dragging me close to her side. I grunt at the impact.

Margret calls, "Bea! Where are you? Why did you think leaving her alone with three giant, hungry cats was a good idea?"

Uncle Braden retorts, "I thought the feed room door was locked! How was I to know they can pick locks, Margie?"

Margret retorts, "Because they have done it before! And now our mounts are missing, and the other one is on the loose! We could lose our license for this! Are you sure she isn't hiding in there somewhere?"

I try to call out, "I'm here!" Rosey covers the sound with a deep growl, tightening her grip on me with her wing. I call again, but Rosey masks the sound. I brace myself against her wing and push, but she pushes back tighter.

"Did you hear that?"

"Yes, I did. That's either Maggie or Rosey." I lay still, catching my breath. The shed door opens, and Rosey lets' out a howling snarl. My bones shake in my body and my teeth chatter. I cover my ears, but the sound permeates my skull and turns my brain into a smoothie. I scream in reply, which seems to jar Rosey out of it. She lets out a concerned warble. "Rosey! What do you have?" Rosey hisses in reply. The fur against my side bristles. I sit up, my head pressing into her wing. This is not my idea of how I wanted today to go! I push up on the membrane. Rosey lets out a strange purring noise.

Margret asks, their voices growing louder, "Why are you calling her Rosey?"

Uncle Brady replies, "That's what Bea called her. It suits her. She has such a Rosey personality, don't you?" Rosey hisses at his sarcasm before letting out a menacing growl. I scoot away from her, but she pulls me back and pins me with her wing. "You have Bea, don't you, you crazy animal? If she's so much as scratched, I'll sell you, you beast." Rosey launched to her feet, her fur fully on end.

Margret snaps, "Do you want to get us killed? If she has Bea back there, she isn't going to appreciate your threats, you brute! Let me handle this." Margret coos, crouching down, "Hey, Rosey! Can you get off my niece, please? She is not liking being held in your cave. She wants to... OH SHIT, DUCK!" Rosey lashes her front foot out. I see an escape and make a break for it.

A/N Thank y'all for reading this far. If you could do me a favor and let me know how you found out about my book, that'd help me know what is and isn't working. Also, just thank you again and feel free to let me know what you think in the comments and with votes! (Be polite to each other, rude comments will be blocked lmao)