The tiger stole my toy, and we fought over it, unleashing our nastiest snarls and roars. My toy no longer made noise, but it smelled like candy, and it shimmered whenever I smacked it against hard objects, including the tiger’s head.

Maybe if I hadn’t smacked the tiger with my toy, he wouldn’t have stolen it. I grabbed my toy out of his mouth and pulled. “Mine.”

The tiger refused to let go, and my toy snapped in half. “Damn it, you broke it.”

No longer intact, it wasn’t as much fun to play with, so I slapped the tiger with it before abandoning it. Spitting out the other half of my toy, he roared.

I shifted to my full wolf form, growled, and pounced, snapping my teeth at him without biting.

“What the hell is going on here?” a familiar, female, and infuriated voice demanded.

I scrambled away from the tiger and slapped my paws over my half of the toy so it wouldn’t be taken from me.

“Dale!”

I flattened my ears, hunkered down, and pulled my toy closer to protect it.

“What on Earth has gotten into you?”

“I think he’s high on black dust, Ethel,” a male stated, and he lifted up a large canister, gave it a shake, and sprayed me in the face, chest, and paws with pink foam. “At least the aggression’s worn off.”

The foam made me tingle, and I discarded my toy for the male with the pink foam. Another blast to my muzzle staggered me, and I snapped my teeth at the stream.

It went down my throat, stuck, and choked me. I hacked to get it out, and whining, I pawed my muzzle.

I liked the tingle, but I didn’t like the choking at all.

“Idiot,” the man muttered, shaking his head and pulling out a water bottle. “Drink this.”

Like the foam, the water was pink and shimmered, and I leveled an accusatory glare in his direction. The cranky female took her canister and sprayed the tiger down, who rolled in it and kicked his paws in the air. Once he was thoroughly doused, the female picked up my toy. “This is the first time in my life I’m going to have to write ‘too stupid to live’ as a cause of death. What sort of idiot dusts lycanthropes and stays within reach?”

“Dale, drink,” the male ordered, thrusting the bottle at me.

I snatched it with my teeth, bit down, and shook my head, spraying water everywhere. Some made it down my throat, although most of it spilled. The plastic crunched pleasantly, and I pinned my new toy between my paws and chewed it to pieces.

“Dale,” the male complained.

“He probably has no clue who you are right now, Jerome. He probably won’t remember any of this later, either. His evaluations on this shit are subpar on a good day. And you’re definitely right, it’s black dust. Damned fucking blighters!”

“Violence potential?”

“He violently plays. In human form, he wants nothing more than to wrestle or otherwise annoy us. Anything physical. When we last tested him, I recruited half the damned floor to play dodgeball with him to keep him out of trouble. He metabolizes it like standard pixie dust with a tendency to get grumpy if he isn’t physically engaged. That idiot winged menace must have provoked him. He got killed being stupid.” The female screamed her frustration and stomped her foot. “Give him another bottle to chew on while I deal with this.”

She took both halves of my broken toy away, but as the male offered another bottle for me to shred, I accepted his gift and worked to reduce it to plastic confetti, too. The male crouched beside me with a sigh. “Judging from the bloody mats on your ass, the tiger caught you. How is it you’re the only man I know who can get mauled at the mall twice in one week?”

The female halted, turning to face us. “If you’re expecting sense out of him, don’t hold your breath. The instant it wears off, he’s going to be miserable.”

“How sick?”

“Someone would be holding his hair if he had enough hair to hold sick, and since you and your mate couldn’t keep him contained at the mall, you get to deal with it. Maybe shifting will help, but get him out of here first—and deal with that damned tiger.”

The male’s shoulders slumped, and he glared at the tiger, who still rolled in the pink foam. “Why me?”

“I’ve been asking myself that all day. Good luck with them, Jerome.”

“You suck.”

She laughed.

In normal people, well, as normal as the weird and weirder got, pixie dust and its variants had a high without a low or a hangover. I got a double dose, and I blamed my stomach’s churning for the majority of the low. Despite having pled for a swift death, even saying please, Jerome refused. Instead of killing me, he pinned me to his bathroom floor and forced bottles of Pepto down my throat.

I made disgustingly easy prey for my alpha.

“Jesus, Dale. Ethel wasn’t kidding when she said you’re worse than me after New Year’s. Pixie dust isn’t your friend. Riddle me this? Why didn’t you get sick on the high-grade stuff she injected you with?”

Ethel laughed through the door. “I’m so sorry, Dale. It’s black dust, which isn’t the same compound as high grade standard dust. There’s something in low grades of pixie dust and its variants that make him sick. Grade A or lower makes him sick enough to send home, too. He got the high-grade stuff to avoid him puking his guts out. Can I come in? Allison bought half the pharmacy and recruited me to bring it to you. How many bottles of Pepto do you plan on giving him?”

“As many as it takes to get him to stop puking. If he’d stop throwing it up, I’d stop giving it to him. Come on in. He’s between waves, and I just got the last bottle I had shoved down his throat.”

Ethel cracked open the door and peeked inside. She sighed, slipped inside, and shook her head. “I’m not sure this is how you’re supposed to use Pepto.”

“A little extra won’t hurt him. It’s one of the perks of being a lycanthrope. Once his stomach settles, I’ll help him take a shower, get him warmed up, and get him to bed. You can shift to your fur coat and help keep him toasty. The guest bedroom has a bathroom if he gets sick again, too. How long do you think this’ll last?”

“No idea. The tiger’s sick, too—he’s at the hospital for observation.”

“What about the vampire?”

Ethel rolled her eyes. “He’s currently crying he broke someone’s car. He’s fine. The car isn’t. The car’s owner is miffed she has a vampiric attachment. Turns out he’s a car enthusiast and, according to him, the greatest crime he’s committed in his unlife is damaging her car. It’s a mess.”

“But is it your mess?”

“Not yet. My boss is handling the vampire. The tiger’s my problem, but I’m off the hook for tonight. He’s already been questioned, and if I’m needed before tomorrow afternoon, my boss offered to handle it.”

“And what about that damned pixie?”

Setting a plastic bag on the floor and shoving it out of the way, Ethel sat beside me, reaching over to pat my back. “He was a cave nymph practitioner. He had a known criminal record but was out on good behavior. Rumor has it he’s been working as an illegal bounty hunter, and the current theory is he dusted the tiger and vampire to make Dale an easier mark.”

“That didn’t work out well for him.”

“I don’t think he anticipated Dale could jump fifteen feet. I’m pretty impressed. We found evidence you’d smacked the nymph into a tree trunk. The dust marks are fifteen feet from the ground.”

I groaned and considered taking shelter in the bathtub. “If he hadn’t ruined my shift, I wouldn’t have hit him.”

“Somewhat coherent now?”

“Jerome refuses to kill me. Tell him he should kill me. It’d be a mercy.”

“I know. I heard you through the door. I’m sorry. You’ll feel better soon. I brought some high-grade neutralizer with me. Maybe it’ll help. Anyway, I thought you’d like to know you’re cleared on the nymph. The tiger already testified to an angel that you were provoked and the little bastard had dusted a public place. It seems you flew off the handle when the nymph mentioned your female.”

Busted. Ethel sounded too happy for my comfort, but after a few moments of thought, I decided it was a good thing. “He said something about me being valuable, I think. It’s a bit of a blur,” I admitted.

“So your new friend said. Anything I can do to help?”

“If you want to hold his hair if he throws up again, that’d be great.”

I didn’t have enough hair to worry about, and I shot a glare at my alpha, who grinned at me. “You’re an ass.”

“I am, but it’s why you like me. How much Pepto did you get? And what new friend? Dale’s not allowed to have any new friends right now.”

Ethel pulled the bag to her and emptied it onto the tiles. “Don’t get so territorial without hearing the whole story first. The tiger lycanthrope is Dale’s new friend. He’s unmated, and he had his first shift a year ago. He recently moved into the area. Apparently, he’s not the loner type, and he’s interested in joining a pack. A lot of other lycanthropes are scared shitless of him because he becomes a tiger who weighs four hundred pounds. He likes that Dale isn’t instantly terrified of him. Expect him to ask about joining the pack. He requested contact information.”

“And you’re certain he isn’t an accomplice? Does he have a name?”

“Alto, but if you have any mercy in your body, you’ll call him Al. He’s no threat to Dale. I asked, and an angel confirmed he had nothing to do with the situation. He was just at the mall to have some dinner, and the vampire asked if he’d donate. That’s when he got dusted.”

“Wait, the vampire was asking if this guy would donate?” Jerome gaped at Ethel. “At the mall?”

“Al supplements his income donating to vampires, and he meets contacts at the food court. It’s legal. He’s comped by the vampires, and he has a certificate from the CDC as a valid donor, so he doesn’t have to claim his earnings on his taxes. Works well for everyone. He won’t be cleared to donate for a week just to be on the safe side, but since he’s an official donor, the CDC will cover his vampires until he’s clean of black dust.”

Ethel dug out five bottles of Pepto and lined them up beside me, and I groaned at the thought of being subjected to more of the vile medication. “You’re not dying, Dale.”

“According to him, he is.” Jerome laughed, grabbed one of the Pepto bottles, and poked me with it. “If you don’t want this shoved down your throat, stop throwing up.”

After digging into one of her pockets, Ethel placed a tiny vial filled with shimmering pink powder beside the line of Pepto waiting to torment me. “This is the best neutralizer I could get on short notice. If you think he can keep it down, give him the whole thing.”

“You could just put me out of my misery.”

“No can do. I’m planning on keeping you around for a long time, so I can’t kill you. Sorry. You’ll feel better within a few hours. If you can keep it down, I’ll get some water so you can take the neutralizer. Maybe it’ll spare you from another round of the Pepto.”

“No promises, but I’ll try if it means I can avoid more of Jerome torturing me.”

She laughed, hopped to her feet, and left long enough to fetch a glass of water and a spoon. She stirred in the powder until I had yet another pink beverage to drink, and I had no doubt Jerome would force it on me if I didn’t drink willingly. I took consolation in the fact it tasted a hell of a lot better than Pepto did. I took several deep breaths to steady my nerves and order my rebellious stomach to settle, then I guzzled the neutralizer so it could work its magic and finish purging my body of the nymph’s dust.

My tongue went numb, and realization I’d been tricked sank in. Few sedatives worked alongside neutralizer, but the CDC’s favorite could flatten a human for days and was used with their glass coffins.

It also held the world record for fastest acting time.

“That was underhanded,” I admitted, setting the glass down before I dropped it onto the tiles. “Cheater.”

Ethel smiled and patted my cheek. “Good night, Dale. You’ll feel better in the morning, promise.”

I slumped against Jerome, struggling to keep my eyes open so I could glare at her for tricking me.

“Damn, Ethel. That was cold.”

“Unconscious is better than sick. You get him tucked into bed and watch over him until I get the rest of my work done.”

“You got it.”

“Cheater,” I said, determined to get the last word in before the neutralizer and sedative cocktail did its work and the lights went out.

Dan was right. I found Ethel beautiful as a woman, but her sleek, pristine white wolf stole my breath and revved my virus’s engine. It was a good thing I’d spent years resisting my interest in her. It made fighting my virus’s insistence I do some claiming of my own easier. Had she been human, my alphas would have many reasons to be annoyed with us in the morning. I’d be forced to burn their sheets to hide our evening activities, as there was no way to hide the scent.

Worse, first matings had a reputation of being noisy, lengthy affairs. My virus wanted me to find out how noisy we could be, and if I let it have its way, we’d do a lot more than make some noise.

My virus either needed to be leashed or encouraged, and I wasn’t sure which.

While Ethel slept, I slipped out of bed and investigated Jerome’s guest bedroom, discovering one of my gym bags stuffed full of my clothes near the door. Dressing helped contain my virus’s urges, as clothing meant things other than sleep and mating, particularly food. My stomach growled a reminder that I hadn’t filled it in a long time.

I ignored it, got dressed, and took a few minutes to sit on the edge of the bed beside Ethel, running my fingers through her fur. Unlike mundane wolves, lycanthropes could have fur—and hair—of all textures and lengths. Ethel’s silky coat ensured I’d be spending an inappropriate time stroking her.

My fur was thick and soft enough, but hers put mine to shame.

Ethel cracked open an eye and, without any other warning, shifted to her human form, wrapped her arms around my neck, and locked lips with me.

Okay.

I could work with that.

Who needed breakfast—or any other meal for that matter? If she wanted to defile Jerome and Allison’s guest bedroom in the best way possible, I’d accept the unexpected change of plans.

My virus agreed.

She broke our kiss, smiled at me, and flopped onto the bed. Within moments, train-like snores thundered from her. I had no idea what was going on or why, but I needed a cold shower or an excuse to wake her.

I poked her shoulder, and she didn’t even twitch.

I’d heard of sleep walking, but sleep kissing was a new one. I’d have to work on my kissing game, as the next time she engaged in an act of sleep kissing, I’d be ready to wake her in the best way possible. Biting my lip so I wouldn’t laugh at myself and my virus’s insistence I had the right idea, I covered her with the blanket and tiptoed to the door to raid my alpha’s kitchen.

Kitchen raids worked a lot better when most of the pack wasn’t crammed in the kitchen, dining room, and living room. I stopped counting heads at twenty and sighed. “What’s going on?”

Allison bounced to me, stood on her toes, and kissed my cheek. “You’re up earlier than we expected. How are you feeling?”

My stomach voiced its complaints, and I ignored it, replying, “I’m fine, thank you.”

Allison grinned. “Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“We’ll try you on chicken soup. Ethel will murder us if we get you sick again. She finally settled down?”

As I tried to be a gentleman, I’d make certain no one found out about the sleep kissing incident from me. “I assume so. She’s asleep.”

“I hope she stays that way. She got pretty snappy and territorial after Jerome dragged you to the guest bedroom.” Allison evicted several members of the pack from the kitchen and pointed at the island until I snagged a stool and sat down. “We have questions, sir.”

“Just what I wanted to hear before I’ve had coffee.”

“You may have some tea. Coffee might make you sick, and I value my life. You get soup and tea. If you don’t like it, wake Ethel and take it up with her.”

As far as threats went, I considered Allison’s fairly potent. I wasn’t sure I wanted to get a full dose of Ethel fresh from sleep and grumpy enough the rest of the pack worried for their lives. “I think I’ll pass.”

“Wise man.”

“What are your questions?”

“What the hell did you do to get a half of a million dollar live bounty?”

My mouth dropped open, and for a long moment, I stared at her. “What?”

“You’re worth half a million dollars. Ethel’s bounty is for a hundred thousand dollars, and it’s conditional: they only pay out if you’re also captured, and the terms are pretty strict. Ethel isn’t to be scratched. Yours is a live bounty, but if you need to be beaten into submission, that’s okay, as long as you’re not disfigured. Someone really wants you, and we want to know why.”

“You’re serious.”

“I guess you have no idea why someone would pay so much for you, do you?”

“I have no idea. Insanity?”

“So, there’s no scorned lovers in the wings?”

“Why would you come to that conclusion? Absolutely not.”

She grinned at me. “Jerome thinks it’s because of your fur color and access to the hybrid form. You’re an exotic.”

“I don’t exactly advertise either,” I growled. “I’ve been careful.”

“Until your first mauling at the mall, yes. The bounty was placed on Tuesday morning.”

“That’s just what I wanted to hear.”

“We have a suspect list.”

“Is it something a conspiracy theorist would concoct?”

Her grin widened. “Maybe.”

“Not interested.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport.”

“Still not interested.”

Allison huffed. “Fine, be that way. It’s likely one of the employers on one of your contract jobs is behind the bounties. It’s not unheard of for an exotic CDC contractor to be targeted, and anyone with a passing knowledge of lycanthropes would go after Ethel to control you. That your price tag is so high indicates you’re the one the buyer wants. What other tricks do you have?”

“I don’t. I was as vanilla as the son of a lycanthrope gets before infection. I didn’t develop any other abilities after infection.”

“That you know of. Have you checked?” she challenged.

Why did I like Allison too much to actually strangle her? “I’m a lycanthrope. I don’t need any other abilities.”

“But what if you could fart rainbows?”

The rest of the pack choked on their laughter, and I glared at the bastards. If they woke Ethel, I’d practice my non-existent fighting skills on them. I growled a warning. They ignored me.

Bastards.

“Come on, Dale. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to develop a cool ability. How about shooting lightning out of your hands? That’d be so fitting for you.”

“I hate you, Allison.”

“I thought you hated Helen.”

“Now I hate you, too.”

“Don’t lie, Dale. You like us all, but you’re too shy to admit it.”

I sighed. No matter what I said, she’d find some way to win. Surrender would limit the torture, although I expected the pack would enjoy ganging up on me and pushing my buttons because they could. “Sure, Allison. I’m too shy. And no, I really don’t want to fart rainbows or lightning.”

“I didn’t say you needed to fart lightning. I’m not that cruel. Shooting it out of your hands is good enough. But seriously? What about the lightning?”

“No.”

“That’s just shocking.”

Like a twig under foot, I snapped, shifted to my hybrid form, and roared.

Allison cackled her laughter and ran.