Planting her feet against the wind, she stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. In the glow of his flashlight, he could see the bright green eyes that had so charmed him in the bar were now flashing irritation. Only it was hard to take her seriously since she had mud on her cheek and nose.

“Maybe you don’t know what the definition of first responder is,” she said.

He felt his mouth twitch. “Actually, I’m quite familiar with the concept.”

“So you do realize that I’m usually the one out in this kind of stuff rescuing people, not the other way around.”

In his world, he was at the top of the food chain, his every command obeyed, his authority never questioned. So it took him a single surprised beat to realize she’d whirled on her heels and was moving away from him, calling out for someone.

“Who’s missing?” he asked.

“Sweet Cheeks.”

“Ah, thanks. Seems a little sudden, but I’m flattered.”

“Oh my God, not your ass, I’m talking about my stupid sister’s stupid cat. She loves a good storm, but I can hear her crying from somewhere.”

Cam stilled and listened. Past the wind, past the driving rain, he heard it too, a cat’s plaintive meow. Turning, he headed along the water’s edge and stopped at the base of a huge oak tree doing its best to stand strong against the heavy gusts.

Thanks to the beam from his flashlight, he could see the cat in the tree, about twenty feet up, huddled miserably against a branch, looking more like a soaked rat than a feline.

“Oh, for—” Piper had come up to his side and was now swearing rather impressively as she dropped her medical bag to the ground and reached for the trunk of the tree.

“Stop,” he said. “You can’t climb it, not in this lightning storm, not without risking your neck.”

“If Winnie finds out I killed her cat, I’m as good as dead anyway.”

“Stay,” he said, and with an inner sigh, started climbing the tree himself. It’d been a while since he’d done a rescue on land, even longer since the victim hadn’t been human.

“Just FYI,” Piper called up to him, “I’m only staying down here because there isn’t room for two of us up there, and not because you told me to stay like a dog!”

He kept climbing.

“And also, Sweet Cheeks isn’t exactly on the people train, so proceed with caution!” she yelled. “Or at least like you have a healthy fear of cats.”

“Fear isn’t a productive emotion.”

He was pretty sure she snorted at that, but he was serious. He climbed for what felt like forever, and when he got to damn near the top of the world, cat and man stared at each other grimly. “Let’s go,” he told her.