Chapter Six
Fuck. That was close. Hamel in his jaguar form slinked through the growing darkness toward the wooded area outside Melinda’s bungalow.
He needed to pay more attention instead of staring at her and daydreaming of their first night together. But fuck. She was his mate. It took extreme willpower to keep from going into her home and claiming her there and then. His cat liked that idea. Let’s go up the stairs.
Not happening, fur ball. Respect. A hole torn in a long piece of aluminum siding offered the perfect opportunity to get to the tree side of the fence. His cat stepped through, careful not to get cut on sharp edges.
He didn’t smell her nearby, so he knew it was safe to shift and redress. He wondered if he should move to a different location. No, the position he had was strategically the best place to watch her house. For his mate, only the best of everything would be acceptable.
Ah, fuck. His mate. His mom always said he’d never know the time or place he’d meet his other half. He didn’t have to worry about that now. The thought of mating and having a family sent an electric thrill through him. That was every shifter’s dream. So many were never that lucky and ended up alone or marrying a non-mate.
He wondered if the boss knew his mate was here and that was why he was sent. How could he? Two of the ALFA team were on assignment undercover, and the third was recovering from a battle with a wolf pack. The whole pack had turned against him. Damn, that guy was a man’s man and a shifter’s shifter. He was the Alpha League Federal Agency’s best.
So Hamel was the only soldier available. It had to be fate. Did he really believe that? During his life, he’d had problems accepting things he couldn’t touch, couldn’t verify with his own eyes. Fates, ghosts, gods, demons, magic. They were all the same. No solid evidence of their existence. He’d probably doubt the existence of shifters if he wasn’t one.
Reaching the tree he had parked himself under, he looked into the high branches. Yup, his backpack was still there, hanging on a limb. He’d had no choice but to heave it somewhere Melinda wouldn’t see it. Earlier, he saw the wine bottle fly over the balcony railing and wondered what she was doing. He about shit when she walked out her back door.
His best option was to strip and shift. If she saw any of the human side, she’d be wary and maybe overly suspicious.
Going on what he’d learned today, he was a bit confused about this whole virus thing. He understood what could happen if something like the bubonic plague was released. But this virus Melinda was working with didn’t make people sick. It evolved their brains to another level, and only the children, at that. Who would find it beneficial to have a world of clairvoyant kids?
Well, they’d have tremendous military use for locating hidden bunkers, buried ammo stashes, and current hideouts for the bad guys. If that’s how it worked. He wasn’t sure. Again, he couldn’t feel it or see it . . .
How was he going to explain shifters to her? He was sure her brain was even more logical than his. He might have time to build a relationship if he could get her a step up from just tolerating him. He didn’t like the idea of simply taking her with him when it was time to go. She might have something to say about that.
He’d learned from others’ mistakes, and it was putting it mildly to call it a mistake when his uncle thought he could pull a caveman when he met his own mate. Holy shit, he’d never witnessed anything so deadly and funny at the same time.
They’d met in the grocery store, of all places. She was buying snapper at the meat counter, and Hamel and his uncle were sent to pick up fresh steaks for dinner. After his uncle scented her, you couldn’t pull him away with a crowbar. Hamel followed at a distance waiting for the shit to hit the fan. He knew it would. His uncle was one of those people who attracted bad luck like a magnet. If something could go wrong, it would.
So on that day at the grocer’s market, he learned to never assume his mate would welcome him with open arms. Never think his little lady couldn’t kick his ass and toss him onto the pie and cake display, thanks to her black belt in martial arts. And never, ever, get up in her face and tell her what she must do. That was the quickest means of getting your balls shoved up your throat.
But in the end, it had all worked out. They were as perfect for each other as destiny had planned. After a few times of him landing flat on his back for trying to boss her around, he came to the conclusion that offering options and letting her decide would keep his body in one piece much longer.
Now Hamel needed to come up with solutions to negate all the things she’d throw at him to keep from loving him—while watching out for bad guys, keeping his cover solid by not sounding like an idiot in the lab, and forcing his animal to wait until she said yes. That required multitasking. Men weren’t known to be good at that kind of stuff. Just give them a spear and they’d come back with supper.
There was no way this would end well.