Panthera Spelaea

The private jet landed at Paphos International Airport in Cyprus. While I’d been visiting Russia, the Elements had motored to the far tip of the island nation in the eastern Mediterranean. It was a short helicopter ride to the ship, moored off Amphitheater Bay on the northwest corner.

The diving here was excellent, and dozens of divers were in the water. It wasn’t recreational, though. Police and Cypriot Coast Guard vessels searched the waters to the southeast, where Art Karpen was missing after he and his passenger got tossed from his jet ski. Tragically, he’d not been wearing his life jacket, and the accident knocked him into the water. Officials speculated that he drowned quickly.

A police boat took the jet ski onboard as evidence; DNA testing on blood from the handlebar would match samples of Art’s hair provided by the Ship’s Doctor. The other accident victim couldn’t help with the search, as she’d nearly drowned herself. It took a few minutes for the riderless jet skis to be noticed and help to arrive. The young lady was rescued and was resting and was cooperating with the investigators but couldn’t help much.

Art’s body was gone, lost in the deep turquoise water. Strong currents made the underwater search difficult, and it became a recovery operation at nightfall. The next day, the Coast Guard called off the search. Art would legally be declared dead thirty days later.

Rumors were rampant about the events leading to his death, especially since the other victim was young, buxom, and blonde, plus a tourist boat had a picture of her getting pulled naked from the water. Art wasn’t married, but that didn’t stop speculation about Art’s sexual activities. Later on, an investigator would leak that Art had been screwing the young woman while riding the jet ski before the tragic accident. A rich man on a yacht, surrounded by much younger women, had predictable endings. The rumors made the accidental death easier to believe, so Zach’s people encouraged them with leaks.

Art’s death was big news in the financial world. Karpen Investments was a private company, so there was no stock price to fall. It would take a team of lawyers a year to navigate the distribution of his estate. Thankfully, Art’s team had planned for this.

I’d sometimes wondered why the superyacht Elements was an Estonian-flagged vessel. Art took the identity of an Estonian baby who fled to England during World War Two. He created a false educational background and history, becoming a dual-citizen along the way. He soon realized how punishing the taxes were as his company grew.

After the fall of the Soviet Union, Art “returned” to Estonia. He purchased a remote estate on the Baltic Sea and moved his company headquarters to the capital city of Tallinn. Like his rival Mikhail, he took advantage of the economic opportunities of the fall of Communism to purchase assets at a discount. Karpen Investments became a powerhouse in the next decade.

The Estonian Government needed capital, and Art helped them attract it by pushing growth-oriented policies. Estonia established a low income and corporate tax rate, no taxes on retained earnings (only dividend distributions), and no estate tax. These policies would allow Karpen Investments to transfer to the family members without losing half of it to the taxman.

The atmosphere on the Elements was different. The death of the centuries-old switcher shocked everyone. Art had been a constant presence in their lives. No one sat in his chair at the table as we ate lunch; perhaps no one ever would.

As for the mess in Russia, it wasn’t as bad as I thought. Vasili had talked to the investigators, and since we were not suspects, no warrants were issued. Zach and I both refused to return to Russia but consented to video interviews with the investigators. I sat in Art’s renovated office with one of Zach’s lawyers and gave my story. I didn’t have much to say. We drove towards the dacha, helicopters flew over us and blew up the bridge, and Vasili took us to safety. Since we didn’t know if we were the intended targets, we got the hell out of Russia.

Without a body to bury at sunset that night, the entire crew turned out on the fantail for a brief funeral service. The Captain officiated the service, in which Art’s family spoke of him as a loving father and grandfather. I told of my respect for him and his courage in death. The youngest of the crew tossed a ring of flowers into the water as paparazzi in boats nearby filmed us.

I met with Zach and his people later that night in the hastily-repaired main office. I looked around at everyone before taking a seat on the couch. “Are we good?”

“We’ll be fine,” Zach said. “Art’s actions proved his intentions towards the other Switchers, and that cooperation will continue with me. Anything you need is yours, John. The resources of my company are at your disposal should you need them.”

I nodded, happy that Zach was taking charge. He and I had fought and bled together, and I respected him. “What about Edward and Alexandra?”

“They feel the same,” he replied. “Alexandra apologized for doubting Art. He died defending her, and she has pledged to assist all Switchers with anything we need.”

“And her company?”

“We will all make money off it as the stock price recovers. Our people will ensure Vadim is blamed instead of Alexandra, and those investigations will close. Karpen Investments will vote in a block with Alexandra and Edward to vote in her slate of Directors. Vadim’s death and duplicity killed any support his group had to block Alexandra from the top spot.”

“I’ll do the same with my stock,” I said. “Now that the threat is over, I need my mates, and I need to get home.”

“I don’t blame you. Our plane is at your disposal when you need it.”

“Thank you.” I made the phone call that would eventually let Anna and Svetlana know it was safe to return home, and another for Melanie and my family.

Three days later, we were all back at Dad’s place near Houston.

The investigation would go on for another three weeks. There was a money trail between Vadim Pushkov and the mercenary team, and a copy of Mikhail’s will provided the motive. Alexandra’s people kept their stories straight, and Zach’s people made sure the investigation got closed quickly. Alexandra had been the target, not us.

September

I woke up to the sound of a screaming baby. Anna woke up on my left side, while Svetlana had my right arm pinned under her shoulders. “Which one is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Anna replied. My mates would sometimes feed each other’s babies when it was convenient. “I got it.” She sat up, her swollen breasts leaking slightly into her T-shirt as the cry made her milk let down. She made it to the slider chair by the bed right as Nikita came in with an upset baby boy. “I’ve got you, my Luka,” she said as she exposed a breast for him. Her month-old son latched on as she relaxed into the chair.

I worked my arm free and went to the bathroom. By the time I showered and returned, Svetlana was in the other rocking chair. Catherine had latched onto her right breast. The older of the two by two days, the half-siblings would be raised by the three of us like twins.

Anna burped Luka, then handed him to Nikita to get changed. Our nanny took him into the nursery while Anna took her shower. I sat with Svetlana as she nursed or daughter in the expansive bedroom of the lodgepole-pine home. “Ready for today?”

“I’ve got the easy part. I hope Melanie is ready.” Nikita handed me my son, and I held him in my arm as he looked at me. My mates had given me two healthy children, and I couldn’t love them any more than I did. I gently rocked him in my arms, telling him how much I loved him.

Svetlana had just switched breasts when there was a knock on the door. “Can we come in?”

“Yes, Mom.”

The carved-wood bedroom door opened to reveal both of our mothers. Nadezna had come to stay with us two months ago, not wanting to miss the birth of her first grandchildren. Caroline had flown up when they were born, then returned home before arriving two days ago for the wedding. Both sets of parents had accepted our polyamorous relationship by now. They treated my mates as their daughters and both grandchildren as their own. Nadezna reached me first, taking Luka from my arms as Mom sat on the bed near Svetlana. “мой красивый внук (My handsome grandson),” she told him with a kiss.

We’d decided before they were born that we would be a bilingual English-Russian household, wanting them to be comfortable in either country. My Russian had greatly improved thanks to my mates and our nanny speaking it constantly. Even our housekeeper and groundskeeper, a trusted pair we’d hired from my father’s staff, were picking it up.

Mom took Catherine away when she finished her breakfast. Catherine let out a good burp as Mom walked to the nursery to change her. Svetlana headed to the bathroom while Nadezna and I walked to the Great Room of our fifteen-thousand-square-foot log mansion. The south-facing windows looked out over the creek valley to the Castle Mountains and Elk Peak. Dad was already here, sitting in one of the big leather chairs and talking with Svetlana’s father Sergei and US Marine Lieutenant Colonel Hunter West. Hunter was on leave from the Marine Corps and would return to MCAS Cherry Point in two weeks for his official retirement. When he’d learned about Switchers and what it meant for him, he’d given up his military career to be with Melanie.

Nadezna took the baby to the couch to sit with Sergei while I grabbed a cup of coffee. I looked over at the man who would soon be my brother-in-law. “Ready for today, Hunter?”

“I barely slept last night.”

“It was the same for me before my wedding to Svetlana.” Melanie was lucky enough to find her mate early on, even if it took a while to get the big Marine to admit his feelings for her. Now that she had graduated from school and he was almost out of the Corps, the two were getting married. “Thank God you got your home finished in time.”

“By about fifteen hours,” he said as he rolled his eyes. “Final inspection was yesterday afternoon.”

Everyone laughed at that. After the adventure in Russia, Duncan and Olivia invited all of us to their Montana ranch. Melanie brought her mate along, and finding out about her shifter nature wasn’t the only doozy of the week. After all, Hunter’s ‘dead parents’ greeted us at the front steps, and they hadn’t aged a day in the past twenty years. “We’ve been here twenty years, and we need to change identities soon and move to our new home in Upper Michigan,” Duncan told us around the big dinner table. “This property is perfect for Switchers. I figured I’d offer it to one of you first.”

It was the perfect solution for us. I’d quickly learned the heat and humidity in the Houston area was not suitable for an Ice Age-era Cave Lion. The heavily wooded foothills and plains here were much better, and the place was more isolated. Melanie loved the seclusion and the soaring possibilities of the surrounding mountains. In the end, I bought their ranch, and Melanie purchased an adjoining 150-acre parcel a neighbor had for sale. There was plenty of space for both of us, and I didn’t mind overseeing construction while she finished school and he closed out his military obligation.

Hunter and Melanie chose a building site on a hilltop about a mile from east of us. They had a big log home custom-built to take in the spectacular views. It included a rooftop “widows walk” at the high point, with railings she could perch on and launch herself into the sky. I couldn’t wait to try out the custom hot tub in their indoor-outdoor pool room since ours would close down in a month. “Where is Melanie?”

“Stretching her wings before everyone arrives,” Hunter replied.

My eyes caught the movement before anyone else. “Looks like the flight is over.” The brown dot high in the sky was coming closer. By the time I finished my coffee, Melanie’s Golden Eagle wings had flared out as she landed on the hitching post near the driveway. A moment later, she hopped off the thick railing and started putting on the clothes she’d left there. “Do you ever get jealous of her?”

“All the time,” Hunter replied as he watched her approach. “I can’t complain too much when you guys buy me an airplane.” Melanie and I pitched in on a King Air 350-I twin-turboprop executive plane shortly after buying the land. It could seat eleven people and had the range and speed to fly comfortably between Montana and Houston. It was also cheaper to purchase and operate than an executive jet, given the smaller airports in western Montana. He’d left it at the Wheatland County Airport. Unfortunately, the 3600’ runway and hangar under construction on the entrance road wasn’t done yet.

Breakfast was a fun affair. Svetlana came to the table, followed quickly by Duncan and Olivia. Zach snorted his amusement as Alexandra talked about being mistaken for a secretary while visiting a company she ended up buying. “You know you’ll always look this young now,” I teased her. “And Hunter will always look like he’s out with his daughter.”

“You’re just jealous,” Hunter said.

“I’ve got the two most beautiful women in the world on each side. In their arms are the two most beautiful babies in the world,” I replied. “I am jealous of no man.” I kissed both of my mates, then my children. Naturally, others had to speak up to claim THEIR wife was the most beautiful, and in their minds,p they were.

“To love,” Dad said as he lifted his glass. “The best feeling in the world.”

“To love,” everyone said with a glass raised. I’d drink to that.

We could speak freely, as everyone staying overnight at our house was a Switcher or knew of our kind. At the end of the meal, Nadezna said she would watch the babies until lunch. Svetlana told Nikita she could have the morning off. She immediately smiled at my little brother, and the two excused themselves. Patrick was smitten with the Russian blonde at first sight, and she fell for his goofy smile. Patrick was already looking at distance learning with MIT and had sounded us out on moving in. The two were a good match.

Between breakfast and the arrival of the remaining guests, we held a Switcher business meeting. Zach had been right about us all getting rich; my shares had quadrupled in value, making me a billionaire. In July, I’d sold half my shares to Alexandra and another third to Zach. I kept the remainder because it tied me financially to both Zach and Edward. The proceeds from the sales got invested in the United States and Russia. My father and my financial advisor succeeded in diversifying my portfolio, and the earnings were enough to cover my expenses. It gave me the freedom to settle in with my mates and figure out what to do with the rest of my life. Running around in lion form in the woods and making babies sounded good right now.

When the meeting broke up, the girls all disappeared to the bedrooms to get ready, while I was busy as the host greeting the arriving guests. Many were friends of Melanie’s from Houston or Wharton, while others were active duty or retired Marines that came with Hunter.

My kid sister got married under the Big Sky on our back patio with the mountains in the background. Hunter stood wearing his Marine Dress Blues, while Melanie had gone native with a lace wedding dress and white cowboy boots. I sat with my family as Svetlana and Anna stood as bridesmaids with three other friends.

The party went well past sunset, with a wedding feast featuring slabs of Prime Rib and all the fixings. My mates retired shortly after the newlyweds left for their new home, taking the sleeping babies with them. I remained at the tables with my parents as the hosts. The band was excellent, and I saw my chance during a country waltz. I walked over to where Alexandra was sitting with Edward and Zach. “May I have this dance,” I asked?

“If you don’t mind my lack of skill at your dancing,” she replied.

“It’s a waltz step, and I’ll lead you.” She took my hand, and I led her onto the dance floor we’d set up in the yard. I took her right hand in my left, placed my right on her waist, and pulled her onto the floor.

Mom insisted we all know how to dance, so I had a strong lead that settled her quickly. She smiled as we twirled around the floor, and I got her to perform some of the more advanced moves later in the song. When the song ended, I pulled her into a hug. “I know it was you, Alexandra,” I whispered in her ear.

She froze. “Don’t worry. I haven’t told anyone. And as long as nothing happens to my family, no one will know.” If I hadn’t been holding her up, she might have fallen to the floor. Her reaction told me everything I needed to know. It took her a moment to stand normally again.

I placed her hand in my arm and led her back. “Are you all right, honey,” Edward asked.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “The wine is getting to me, honey. Perhaps we should retire.”

“All right,” Edward said as he got up. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Sleep well,” I told them.

As they walked away, Zach was looking at me funny. “What was that about?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t believe me either.

I’d spent a lot of time with my family discussing my suspicions about Art’s death. We all agreed that there was nothing to be gained from speaking it to the others; a Switcher war would break out, and we didn’t know the truth. Now I knew the truth, but the truth would destroy Edward and any chance to keep the cooperation going.

Edward and Alexandra were getting married next spring in Moscow. I’d see if we got an invitation or not.

I was the last one up, and it was nearly three in the morning by the time I finished my shower and slid into bed. I held my girls, and wondered what the future held for our kind.

Two days later, my Dad texted me and told me to turn on the news.

PLANE CRASH IN NORTH ATLANTIC, the crawl said. “Air traffic control lost contact with the private jet carrying Alexandra Abrahmov and fiancé Edward Smith after the pilots radioed in a Mayday call. The last transmission declared a flight emergency after the loss of both engines. Ships and aircraft located floating debris hours later, scattered over a five-mile-square area. The search is now recovery and not a rescue effort. Experts say it was likely all died on impact or succumbed to the icy waters. Alexandra Abrahmov, the billionaire heir to her grandfather’s steel empire, has no known family. Meanwhile, in Washington…”

I turned it off.

The Switcher population was back down to four, and I couldn’t blame Zach if he’d done it.