Chapter 3
Analia swayed in place, the imprint of Kellen’s body and the heady impact of his kiss still fogging her mind. It took a heartbeat, and then a second for the embarrassment to creep in along with self-consciousness and pain.
What had just happened?
Had she been taken out for a trial run, and found lacking?
She hadn’t imagined the hard ridge against her mound—but then, he was a guy, and her obvious willingness could have been turn-on enough.
She hadn’t imagined the things he’d said—but then, maybe they’d just been lines, and the ease of his conquest had meant he was only interested in a challenge.
Heat flamed in her cheeks even as an icy hollowness formed in her chest.
She’d been so caught up in the fantasy of finally meeting the man meant for her—a fantasy strengthened by possession of the apple-shaped charm and by the tarot reading—that she’d gone onto the dance floor defenseless.
Not that she ever went heavily armored, emotionally speaking, but she’d surrendered herself in a way she’d never done before with a total stranger.
She watched as the other dancers parted, allowing Kellen a clear path to his table, and the Supernatural Ops agents who’d returned to their seats. He didn’t look back at her, sat without even a glance—worse, his attention was quickly caught by a woman heading his way, a woman who had plenty of men losing track of their conversations to stare at her and nearly drool.
Confident strides carried the woman forward, the sway of her hips conjuring masculine fantasies. Shimmering black hair reached her ass, caressing it, practically begging male hands to cup and grip.
Analia turned away, back toward her own table, telling herself she was glad Kellen had done what he’d done. Clearly the tarot reading had been wrong, or at least their interpretation of the cards had been wrong.
She reached the table and dropped into her chair. Sabra gave her a sympathetic look. “You nailed it with your first impression. What a hound dog.”
Neither of them brought up the reading, though Sabra sent a frown toward her purse, where the cards were safely stashed. And Ace was thankfully out of sight, and hopefully hadn’t witnessed the hot kisses on the dance floor followed by the quick, cold abandonment.
Analia tried to shrug both reading and brushoff away with a quick lift and lowering of her shoulders. She should get out on the dance floor again, shake what’d happened with Kellen off, but her heart urged retreat.
“I’m going to grab some fresh air, walk along the beach.”
“You want me to come with?”
“And miss the chance to capitalize on The Lovers?” Not that Sabra was into sex with strangers either, but strangers turned into friends with benefits, and tonight was still an excellent night for Sabra to meet a new friend and have that happen, regardless of the tarot reading.
“Easy come, easy go,” Sabra said. “Say the word and I’ll take a walk with you.”
Analia smiled, warmed by Sabra’s total willingness to put friendship first. “I’m good.”
“Text me before you head home, so I’ll know you’re safe?” Not that the beach stretching out in front of Stones was a hotbed of criminal activity. It was well patrolled and, even at night, had plenty of people out enjoying a walk along the surf.
“I’ll text,” she said, but didn’t manage to leave the club without a glance in Kellen’s direction.
No surprise, the sexual goddess who’d been heading his way now stood in front of him.
His back was to Analia, so she couldn’t read his expression, but when the dark-haired woman’s attention snapped to her, as if sensing her interest in him, the fury directed at Analia was a furnace blast accusing her of going after someone else’s man.
He asked me to dance, Analia mentally protested, but it didn’t lessen the tight knot in her stomach or the heavy feeling in her heart.
It was definitely time to get out of there.
* * *
“Hunt elsewhere,” Kellen growled at Deidra, aware of his amused audience. “I’ll tell you what I told my sire, you’re wasting your time by coming here. I’m not taking a mate.”
Deidra’s eyes narrowed. “Because you prefer humans?”
“I prefer freedom.”
“We’ll see.”
Deidra’s tone matched hard eyes and promised the ruthless pursuit of her goal. Kellen shrugged and turned away from her. Not a retreat. She had no power over him, but there was little point in debating the future with her, especially as Gaige and Crew watched.
His gaze went to Analia’s table. Her female friend was there, but she wasn’t.
An involuntary growl accompanied a scan of the dance floor as he imagined Analia in the arms of another man.
The remembered scent of her arousal propelled him forward. He didn’t like that she’d disappeared. Didn’t like the thought that she’d chosen to satisfy her need by leaving with another man. Didn’t like the possibility that she and the blond she’d been sitting with were friends with benefits.
A deeper growl vibrated in Kellen’s throat, and he wanted to claim it was a reaction to the unfriendly glower directed at him by Analia’s friend.
He scanned the dance floor again, spotted the blond returning to the table, without Analia. And then he encountered a pocket of her alluring scent and turned toward the club’s exit.
He refused to consider the reasons why he continued forward. Why he followed Analia’s scent out of the nightclub. Why he surrendered to the overwhelming need to shed the human form and become hound.
In four-legged form it was far easier to track her. It was far easier to convince himself there was no harm in yielding to the instinctual need to seek her out and remain at her side—if for no other reason than to ensure that Deidra didn’t somehow consider Analia a threat.
He found her sitting on a bench along the boardwalk, facing the ocean. The waves were hardly worthy of calling them by that name, but boogie boarders were out in the water, playing in the moonlight.
A bark alerted her to his approach, and pleasure shimmered through him when she turned toward him without fear. The Irish Wolfhounds native to Earth could weigh one-eighty, but he was larger, bulkier, heavier.
She held out her hand, murmuring, “Aren’t you a handsome guy.”
He went to that hand, half closed his eyes when she stroked his head and neck. Her scent filled his nostrils, tempting him to trade hound form for human, to carry her onto the beach and stretch her out beneath him on the sand.
Impossible of course. Humans weren’t ready to know the truth, that their world was both a destination for supernatural beings and a portal world used by supernatural beings when they traveled from one realm to another.
“Where’d you come from, boy?” she asked, concern in her voice as she combed through the fur at his neck, checking for a collar.
Her gaze lifted and searched the area around her for someone who might be looking for a dog. He put his chin on her knee with a heartfelt sigh, drawing her gaze back to him. She smiled, gave a small, self-conscious laugh and said, “You’re the second hound dog I’ve encountered tonight, only the first one was in human form.”
He cocked his head, encouraging her to continue. “I thought…” her voice caught and she looked out toward the ocean. “It’s just as well. He was obviously cheating on his girlfriend, or was thinking about it.”
Kellen curled his lip, showing a hint of teeth though he refused to ask himself whether he was aggravated at the thought of another man hitting on her, or aggravated on her behalf.
She found the spot behind his left ear, massaged it with her fingertips and sent pleasure down to his canine toenails. “Well, on the bright side,” she murmured, “I guess it means I’m not totally lacking when it comes to attractiveness. Until she came into the club, and made it clear he belonged to her, I was thinking I’d failed some kind of kiss test.”
Denial howled through Kellen, chased by guilt. Surely she didn’t think he belonged to Deidra. Surely she didn’t think—
“One minute he was telling me he needed more, and the next he was walking away without looking back.”
Fuck! She had it completely wrong! He was the good guy here! Doing the right thing!
If not for Gaige’s interruption, in another minute he’d have hauled her right out of the club and been lucky to make it back to his place before taking her. Scent didn’t lie and she wouldn’t have said no!
“He made me feel beautiful and desirable,” she whispered, and the guilt deepened. “When our eyes met the first time, I let myself believe there was a connection. And the tarot cards made it seem like he was the one. Then he asked me to dance and when he kissed me… Sappy, huh? And I know tarot cards aren’t always right. That sometimes they reflect what you’re thinking about, not what’s in your future.”
Her pleasure-producing fingertips moved to his other ear. “I should have known better. Given who he was with, he’s probably some hotshot Supernatural Ops agent, and look at me, I’m a rehabilitation counselor. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I love helping people and being their cheerleader. But mostly success can be measured in baby steps, not saving the world or bringing criminals to justice, or whatever it is they do in Supernatural Ops. I can’t stack up against the women in his world.”
Part of him wanted to slink away. Fuck, now he felt like a total dog!
Maybe he should slink away, find another camera-free patch of darkness and shift form then return to make certain things clear. First, no female had a claim to him, especially not Deidra. And second, Analia had no reason to doubt her attractiveness. She was just lucky he hadn’t done her on the dance floor!
The only reason he’d walked away from her was because of her friendship with Saffron. If not for that…
On a sigh, she combed her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “What I love about dogs is there’s no pretense. You’re a gorgeous wolfhound, a total hound dog, so I know what to expect. You’re sucking up the attention right now, but if a female in heat comes along, adios, you’re going to give chase. If someone with better treats or a more magical touch when it comes to ear and belly rubs comes along, you’ll give in to temptation. And that’s okay. I know that going in, and it’s okay. No hurt feelings. No heartbreak. But men… Men are a totally different story.”
She gave a shaky laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, whispered, “But one of these days, that’s going to change. I am going to meet Mr. Right.”
And there it was, confirmation that walking away from her had been the right thing. She was exactly the kind of human female he avoided, one who was looking for something more than sex.
He didn’t have more to offer than sex.
His trust of humans—hell, the entirety of his trust, didn’t extend beyond a handful of Supernatural Ops agents.
Leave, his conscience urged.
Stay, his instinct countered, fueled by her heady scent and the equally heady feel of her hand on his body, even if he was in fey hound form.
The sound of a cried, “No!” reached him before the battle between conscience and instinct escalated.
“That’s mine!” the same anguished male voice yelled.
Laughter met the claim.
Metal wheels traveled across concrete. A shopping cart, Kellen thought, easily picturing one of the homeless he’d seen in this area.
“No!” the man cried again.
There were metal thumps, a crashing sound. It was far enough away that Analia remained unaware while Kellen’s more sensitive ears easily picked up the sound of another male voice, this one aggressive and slurred. “Loser.”
The comment was followed by what might have been a body hitting the ground, a sharp cry of pain, and then drunken male laughter.
Kellen stood, lifting his head from Analia’s knee.
Another drunk taunted, “One-legged freak.”
A deep growl accompanied the rise of hair along Kellen’s nape. Centuries later and completely healed, he still remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of cruelty because of his withered forearm.
Thuds followed by sharp cries carried the image of a downed, helpless man being kicked and beaten. Kellen charged away from Analia, his mind hazed red by fury.
He raced past Stones, running at full speed for a block, and then another block, then barreled into a parking lot. The assault was being watched by club and beachgoers with phones in their hands, cameras pointed at the violence.
Five men stood around a sixth dressed in dirty, torn shorts and a stained tank top. Three kicked the homeless man while their two companions wrestled with a prosthetic right leg.
Kellen leapt at one of the three men, not bothering to give a warning, only barely hanging on to enough restraint to go for an arm instead of a throat.
Don’t kill the humans—unless absolutely necessary—had been drummed into him before he’d been allowed to enter the portal that would bring him to Earth. And that message had been reinforced frequently since joining IRE.
The drunken man screamed, a high-pitched sound of fear now that he was on the receiving end of an attack.
Powerful jaws crushed bone as sharp teeth easily shredded skin and muscle.
The man beat at Kellen’s head, but his strikes were ineffective as the force of Kellen’s launch had already sent the drunk backward.
The man slammed to the concrete, his head bouncing.
Kellen released the arm, snarled in the man’s face before chasing the man’s drunken friends.
They’d quickly abandoned their fun and their companion. But even if they’d had a head start measured in minutes instead of seconds, they wouldn’t have been a match for Kellen’s hound form.
Even if they’d been sober he could have easily caught them. They hadn’t been smart enough to separate, and so he took them down one at a time, mercilessly sinking his teeth into arms and legs, pausing only long enough to warn them with a menacing growl not to get to their feet.
They remained where they lay, curling around their injured limbs, crying or gasping or moaning.
Sirens sounded all around him, approaching fast from a multitude of directions.
He raced out of the lot, leapt from the walkway onto the beach and ran, putting additional distance between him and Analia. Instinct driving him to lead the danger away from her, and then to plunge into the surf to erase his trail.
Water splashed up his legs and along his sides. He kept going, finally spotting a place where he could leave the beach and shed his hound form for a human one.
Kellen returned to the bar. He sauntered in as if he hadn’t decimated humans who even now were being loaded into ambulances.
There was no sign of Deidra, which was a good thing. If he’d seen her, he might well have returned to hound form and torn her apart—though he had a bad feeling it wouldn’t reduce the guilt vibrating through his chest.
Fuck! Analia should be grateful he’d walked away from her! And she was absolutely right, the tarot cards, and whatever she’d read into them, were wrong!
Absolutely wrong.
He dropped into his seat. Gaige lifted an eyebrow while Crew inhaled deeply. “Apparently our friend’s walk on the beach led to an encounter with a certain human female. I can smell her scent on him. Dare I say the word?”
Kellen bared his teeth and growled, “Don’t.”
Crew grinned. “Do you mean the word mate? Because that’s the only way I can interpret his actions.”
Gaige nodded. “It’s the only interpretation that makes sense. First avoiding looking at her. Then surrendering and hauling her to the dance floor as a form of foreplay.”
“Intense foreplay,” Crew corrected. “If he was a dragon, her clothes would have been piles of ash on the dance floor.”
“The very same dance floor he fled from when I warned him that she was friends with Saffron. And yet moments later, upon noticing she’d left the club, he was chasing after her.”
Crew laughed, a small hint of smoke escaping his nostrils. “If it looks like a mate, and smells like a mate—”
“Then it must be a mate,” Gaige said.
“I knew Saffron was going to bring trouble when she caused Taine to torch three expensive cars in quick succession,” Crew said.
A pained expression settled on Gaige’s face and Crew added, “Oops, I keep forgetting that the yellow Maserati held a special place in your heart. Foolish of you to offer it up in a poker game.”
“Back to the matter at hand,” Gaige said, the growl in his voice as deep as the one that’d been in Kellen’s, though he was no fey hound. “I believe we can both agree that our companion here—the second companion in a short period of time—has in fact, stumbled upon his mate.”
Crew tapped his fingertips on the table. “It doesn’t bode well for us. Bad luck tends to come in threes. The question becomes, do we put in for temporary transfers? Leave the area for a century or so?”
Gaige took a swallow from his beer bottle. “And miss the show?”
“There won’t be any show,” Kellen snarled. “Unlike the both of you, who one day intend to take mates, I will never take a mate.”
Gaige and Crew shared a glance. Crew said, “Does that sound like famous last words to you?”
Gaige nodded. “It does. It surely does.”
Thankfully a threesome of well-endowed humans arrived at the table, preceded by the scent of their desire, and derailed the conversation.
“Dance,” the blond in the group purred, trailing long, red fingernails down the center of Crew’s chest.
A mocha-toned female made Gaige her target, while a brunette with sultry lips and inviting eyes made Kellen her target. “Dance with me, handsome?” she asked, her gaze dipping to the front of his jeans.
Crew stood, as did Gaige. They shared another glance, this one setting Kellen’s teeth on edge. When they looked at him, there was speculation and challenge in their eyes.
He stood, curling a hand around the brunette’s arm as if he’d hurry her onto the dance floor and then off of it, going somewhere to fuck.
Gaige’s smile widened. Crew snorted a laugh.
They moved to the dance floor, but where Kellen had welcomed the DJs transition from fast song to slow one when he was with Analia, this time he swallowed a snarl, only barely managing to tolerate the brunette’s quick invasion of his personal space—and only then because of Crew and Gaige’s presence.
She mashed full, silicone-enhanced breasts against his chest and ground her pussy against the front of his jeans. His cock twitched, but only because his thoughts flashed, guiltily, to Analia.
He suppressed another snarl. He had no reason to feel guilty! He’d saved them both from disaster by walking away from her after they’d danced!
The brunette’s aroused scent filled his nostrils, but rather than being lush and intoxicating, a scent that hardened his cock and made him want to kiss his way down from her lips to her pussy, as Analia’s scent did, the scent of the brunette’s desire might as well have been a repellent.
He could take her, if he wanted her. He refused to believe otherwise—that his cock wouldn’t harden.
It wasn’t worth the effort. That’s all.
Her lips touched his neck then kissed their way to his ear and he hardened, thinking about how he’d done the same to Analia, about the silky feel of her skin, her taste, the way she’d softened in his arms as if she belonged there.
The brunette’s tongue thrust into his ear, snapping him back to the present and reflexively sending his head jerking backward, away from the unwanted invasion.
From behind him he heard Gaige’s laughter. And for the first time in his life, Kellen wished a mate on other beings. If Taine’s stumbling upon Saffron was in fact the beginning of them all encountering potential mates, then he hoped Gaige, or Crew, stumbled across his next.
The brunette was now pouty-lipped, though Kellen’s reaction hadn’t driven her from his arms. Not even halfway through the song and he was ready to leave the dance floor. In fact, he was ready to leave the club altogether.
He could go home. Alone. Though he’d be better served by going to IRE headquarters. Given the human obsession with loading pictures onto the internet, he’d rather tell Maksim about coming to the defense of the homeless man before it was brought to Maksim’s attention by someone else.
Kellen’s hands dropped from their automatic, barely-there hold at the brunette’s waist. He turned and walked away from her with the slow song still playing, dismissing her from his thoughts.
The action, similar but vastly different because of the reasons behind it, to what had happened with Analia, brought a return of guilt. And with guilt came the worry that Analia, like the homeless man, could also be attacked.
True, this was a relatively safe area, but… It was easy to imagine another man, other men, emboldened by alcohol and seeing her, wanting her, taking her.
Not happening. No way could he let her walk the beach alone.
It was possible she’d already returned to her car and gone home. He hoped she had. It would be easy enough for him to track her and confirm her safety.
He heard Crew say to Gaige, after evoking the magic that made the conversation private to supernatural beings, “Second time he’s done that tonight, walk away from a very willing woman.”
“But the first time he was running away from a human female,” Gaige replied. “This time I’m betting he’s running toward a human female.”
Kellen resisted the urge to turn and snarl a denial. Analia was Saffron’s friend. It could easily be argued that he was doing this for the sake of Taine’s mate. And if that wasn’t reason enough, then he could argue he was doing it for his own sake, to minimize the guilt he felt. It was his actions that had sent her fleeing the club.
She was out there, alone, undefended. If she got hurt, because he’d asked her to dance, kissed her then walked away…
Intolerable.
He cursed himself for yielding to temptation to begin with. He’d known, on some level, that she was a weakness he couldn’t afford, otherwise her scent wouldn’t have continued lingering in his memory days after the All Things Supernatural Fair.
It was just bad luck that Deidra had shown up tonight. It was worse luck that Analia had also been at Stones.
His heart twinged, though he heated at remembering the feel of Analia in his arms, the press of her body against his, the press of soft lips to his, the rub and slide of her tongue against his, the sounds of her pleasure and how his own pleasure intensified as he swallowed those sounds down.
Yet somehow she’d thought, when he walked away, that he’d found her unworthy of pursuit, undesirable!
His cock throbbed against the front of his jeans. It demanded the opportunity to prove to her just how wrong she was. When he reached her—
The intensity of his desire slowed steps he realized had become fast and urgent, some instinct driving him forward, compelling him to reach her as if time was of the essence.
What the fuck?
Was he totally out of control now?
He should turn and run in the opposite direction.
But that was his brain talking and it was completely overruled by cock and conscience.
If she hadn’t already left the beach, he’d see her safely back to her car and be done with her. Period.
Still, he slowed further, accepting he couldn’t go to her in human form. That would only make the situation worse.
In human form—
No, he couldn’t trust himself.
He’d end up ensnared, entangled.
Mated.
He shuddered. No way could he open himself to another woman that deeply. Ultimately, all that would come of it was pain and betrayal.
When he’d gained enough magic to heal his withered forearm, he’d suddenly become a beloved son. His sire and damn had made a big show of acknowledging their spare heir.
Female hounds sought him out. They lobbied for the chance to be presented to him as a possible mate. He’d easily resisted, until Cosette, and then he’d done the inconceivably stupid—he’d trusted, he’d listened to his heart, he’d fallen in love.
He shuddered again, though this time it was like a hound shaking off clinging debris. The past was behind him and he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.
Locating a camera-free spot out of human view, Kellen shifted form and loped to the boardwalk bench where Analia had been sitting. It was occupied by teens with their lips locked and their hands freely roaming.
Analia’s scent remained in the air, easily trackable. He padded along the boardwalk, her scent growing stronger with each of his steps.
The longer he followed her, the more he noticed another scent, one that had the hair along his ruff lifting. It belonged to a human male and held sweaty anticipation along with the stink of skin soured by drugs.
He didn’t like the fact that the man was behind Analia, possibly following her at a distance. The easy lope Kellen had been maintaining kicked into a gallop.
Out of the corner of his eye, a police car’s lights went on and began flashing red and blue. The vehicle sped up and tried to pace him but was hindered by traffic.
Both Analia and her pursuer’s scent grew stronger. In the distance, coming toward him, another patrol car’s lights flashed blue and red—then disappeared from his thoughts when a group of teens holding boogie boards moved off the boardwalk and into a crosswalk, giving a clear view of Analia just as she was rushed from behind by a burly, tattooed man.
Kellen growled and barked, silently cursed when his barking had Analia stopping and turning to look back at him.
She had time for a little shriek before her assailant hit, lifting her, plowing down the stairs and onto the beach.
Kellen knew a heartbeat of pure panic. He leapt up and over the railing.
Police sirens screamed to life.
Kellen landed on the sand.
Analia’s assailant was jerking her purse strap off her shoulder. Mugger, Kellen thought, not a rapist.
But it didn’t slow him. He covered the sand in bounding leaps, gaining momentum and speed until a final leap knocked Analia’s burly assailant away from her and onto the sand.
Despite the man’s bulk, he managed to twist and land on his back, arms up and keeping Kellen from reaching his throat.
Kellen snarled and snapped, fought against the resistance, his teeth slowly getting closer and closer to the man’s neck.
Analia scrambled to her feet, her heart trying to claw its way up her throat. “Don’t shoot him!” she screamed, seeing the two policemen, guns drawn, waiting for a clear shot at the Irish Wolfhound who’d apparently returned to the bench and then come looking for her.
The dog continued to lunge, each movement bringing glistening canine teeth closer to the throat of the man who’d tried to steal her purse.
“Easy boy,” she said, willing the dog to hear her as she edged closer, trying to keep herself between her canine savior and the policemen.
They didn’t look trigger happy… But adrenaline was responsible for a lot of deaths when it came to guns.
When she got close enough, she looped the purse strap over the Wolfhound’s neck. “Come on, boy,” she pleaded. “The police are here now, they can take the bad guy away.”
A male voice blared out of a shoulder microphone one of the cops was wearing. There was a back and forth between the voice and the policeman. It was mostly numbers that were probably codes and times.
Analia applied pressure to the purse strap, knew her own tension was running down the makeshift leash and into the dog as the older of the two policemen, a stern-faced, gray-mustached officer arrived, gun still drawn.
“Come on, boy,” she pleaded. “Let him go now. Be a good boy.”
A small bubble of laughter, her own tell of high emotion, moved up her throat with the thought that she didn’t actually know if the dog was a boy. She hadn’t checked out his equipment. She’d just assumed, because of his size that he was a he.
Thankfully the dog yielded, allowing himself to be guided backward though his focus remained on the man he’d taken to the sand and he continued to snarl, warning the mugger against any attempt to escape.
The older cop shifted his attention between mugger and dog. He ordered her assailant onto his stomach then hurriedly cuffed him.
Analia crouched and put an arm around the dog’s shoulder, stroked his broad chest with her other hand. “What a good boy you are. What a brave, smart boy. Can you sit for me?”
The dog sat and turned his head, meeting her eyes before giving her a quick lick to the cheek, followed by another lick.
She hugged him in return. Saw that the older cop had holstered his gun and the younger one, who’d joined them, had lowered his.
Analia felt compelled to say, “He’s not going to attack you. He only attacked because I was being attacked.”
She looked around. A few people watched though others were starting to drift away now that the excitement was over.
“There were witnesses,” she said urgently. “I’m sure someone caught it on video.”
“Saw it myself,” the older cop said.
An animal control truck pulled to a stop behind one of the police cars. And somehow, someway, the dog recognized what the truck meant.
He started to pull away. But she tightened her arms as the younger cop’s gun jerked upward.
“I’ll have to shoot if you lose control of him,” the policeman said. “We have a report of another attack a little while ago. I’m betting it’s this same dog.”
“But you don’t know for sure,” Analia said.
A male animal control officer descended onto the beach, a long pole with a noose at the end in his hands. The older cop said, “The dog needs to be quarantined.”
“He didn’t do anything wrong. He was just protecting me. He belongs to me and unless you have proof he attacked someone unprovoked, then I’m taking him home.”
It was a pure and total bluff but she wouldn’t let anything happen to the dog.
“So he’s yours?” the cop asked. “If so then I’ll need to see his dog license and proof of rabies vaccination.”
“I haven’t had time to license him. I don’t have proof that he’s had his rabies shot. I only just got him.”
“Is that so?” The cop’s gray mustache twitched.
Her chin went up, which probably shouted lie. “Yes, it’s so,” she said, making the claim anyway.
The dog chose that moment to pull from her hug. He spun, no doubt hyperaware of the animal control officer now only steps away from being within reach to slip the noose over his head.
He bolted and Analia gasped, “No!”
Her pulse revved as she imagined the young cop taking aim and firing. Instead there was a swooshing sound.
The wolfhound yipped. Spun. Bit at his flank.
Analia saw something silvery and looked toward the boardwalk. A second animal control truck had arrived. A female officer with short blond hair lowered a rifle.
Tranquilizer gun, Analia thought, relief slowing her heartbeat.
The dog dropped to the sand and remained motionless.
She hurried to his side. Put a hand on his chest.
It rose and fell, rose and fell in a comforting rhythm.
The blond animal control officer secured the rifle and took something from her truck. She climbed the short railing separating boardwalk from beach and jumped to the sand rather than detour to the stairs.
She jogged, easily joining the policemen and her co-worker. Her gaze met Analia’s and held sympathy.
“We need to take him in,” the female officer said, firmness in her voice.
“He belongs to me and I’ll fight in court to keep anything bad from happening to him,” Analia said, a twinge of worry spasming through her chest, given the young cop’s claim the dog had attacked someone else earlier.
“That’s fine,” the female dog catcher said, unfolding what looked like a tarp with handles. “We can do the paperwork after he’s safely secured.”
She and her co-worker lifted the wolfhound and placed him on the tarp. They carried him to the female officer’s truck as the mugger was hauled off to one of the police cars.
The older policeman drove away with the prisoner. And whether it was Analia’s presence, or a genuine caring for the animals in their charge, the dog was gently placed into a caged compartment.
Her throat constricted at seeing him helpless and imagining him returning to consciousness in a claustrophobic steel box.
“We’ll reverse the effects of the tranquilizer,” the female animal control officer said. “He’ll be fine.”
She pulled a clipboard out and took Analia’s information. As soon as it was done, the young police officer insisted on taking Analia’s statement at his patrol car.
It meant losing sight of the compartment the Irish Wolfhound had been loaded in, and she hated it. But rather than fight, and delay the moment when she could actually—maybe—do something more for the dog, she accompanied the policeman to his patrol car.
The animal control trucks drove away. And a little while later, the younger policeman finally said, “You’re free to go.”
The first thing Analia did was whip out her phone and text Sabra. Not coming back in. Had adventure on the beach. Will tell you later, if Saffron doesn’t beat me to it.
What!!!??? No fair. Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!
Can’t. Need to call Saffron NOW.
Then as a tease, she added. And I need to get to the animal shelter ASAP.
Meanie!
That brought a laugh, which eased some of the pressure in Analia’s chest.
Saffron picked up on the first ring, which meant she and the gorgeous Supernatural Ops agent she was engaged to weren’t busy doing the wild thing.
“Do you think your friend Tanya is working at the animal shelter tonight?”
“No clue,” Saffron said, trying to ignore her very amorous mate’s teasing lips and nipple-hardening teeth as they worked their way up her neck. “Why?”
“I met a dog on the beach. A reddish-brown Irish Wolfhound.”
Taine’s lips and teeth stopped their movement. His arm muscles flexed as he pushed away from the kitchen counter, where he’d trapped her and was working on convincing her to spread her legs so he could mount her from behind.
Saffron suppressed a self-satisfied snicker. That man couldn’t concentrate with his cock pressed to her ass.
She pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped to put it on speaker. “Would you say this dog looks like an Irish Wolfhound on steroids?”
Analia’s surprise was evident in her quick intake of breath. “Yes! You’ve seen him?”
“On the beach near Taine’s townhouse.” She glanced in that direction. “Are you close by?”
“No. I met up with Ace and Sabra at Stones.”
Taine’s quick laugh came with a stream of smoke and a lick of dragon fire across Saffron’s shoulders.
The hot caress very nearly had her free hand dropping to her pussy. Only the fact she was on the phone with her best friend prevented it. Some things just seemed too deviant.
“So you met this dog on the beach, and what, animal control came along and picked him up?” That’s the only thing that made sense given Lia’s opening question.
“It’s worse than that.” And by the sound of Lia’s voice, it was much worse.
Saffron turned to face Taine, who was already reaching for the jeans he’d stripped out of and tossed across the back of a chair.
“What happened?” Saffron asked as he tugged the jeans on, preparing to go to Kellen’s rescue.
“I was mugged.”
“Mugged? Near Stones?”
“Yes. The guy was after my purse even though there were cops nearby.”
“And the dog was with you?”
“No. I was petting him earlier but he took off. Then suddenly he was back. I guess he was looking for me. The cops claim he attacked someone else. Animal control used a tranquilizer gun and took him away.”
More smoke poured out of Taine’s nostrils, only this time, given the expression on his face, the cause was anger and not amusement. “Let me call you back,” Saffron said.
“I’m going to head to the animal shelter, just in case they’ll let me in. I need to make sure he’s okay. I… It breaks my heart to think of him waking up in a cage or in the animal control truck.”
“I’ll call you back in just a few minutes,” Saffron promised. “Don’t worry about them killing the dog. There’s a quarantine period. Talk to you in a few minutes.”
Taine plucked the phone out of her hand. He called Crew.
“News travels fast,” Crew said by way of a greeting.
Taine shared a glance with Saffron. Given the throbbing beat of the music that’d been in the background before Crew summoned enough magic to mute it, the dragon scion was obviously still at Stones.
“Are you on your way to animal control?” Taine asked.
“Why would I be?” The question was followed almost instantly by a laugh. “What’s Kellen done, besides stumble on his mate?”
“His mate?”
“The woman who was with your mate at the supernatural fair.”
“You’re sure?”
“Oh yeah. The signs are there. He denied them of course, and once he’d been informed of who she was, even managed to walk away from her after a let’s have sex kiss on the dance floor. But when she left the club, he only lasted a few minutes before chasing her. Not once, but apparently twice.”
“Talk to you later,” Taine said and ended the call. He immediately punched in Maksim’s number.
His boss listened to Taine’s summary of the calls with Analia and Crew. “Stay put,” Maksim said. “I’ll take care of this.”
Saffron plucked the phone from Taine. “What does he mean by I’ll take care of it?”
Taine hooked his arm around Saffron’s waist and pulled her against him. “When one of us finds our mate in this realm, there are only two options. Get far, far away from her until her mortal life ends, or embrace our fate.”
His sultry mate put her arms around his neck. “I guess I know which one you chose, though seriously, torching the Maserati just to get an intro was a bit extreme.”
He puffed out a laugh along with smoke. “That was an accident. That was me thinking about some other man fantasizing about you. Maksim was prepared to turn a blind eye when it came to the cars, but when I saw you in Ace’s arms at the fair—”
A carefully controlled exhalation of flames caressed her face and she smirked. “Let me guess, you got called to Maksim’s office.”
He felt the heat in his face remembering it. “I did. Lucky for all involved, there was a ready solution to my problem since you’re a firefighter and we were working a case that involved the potential for a great deal of fire.”
His mate’s expression grew pensive. “Lia’s a rehabilitation counselor. Finding an excuse for her to work for Interspecies and Realm Enforcement isn’t going to be easy.”
“Maksim will find a way to keep Kellen and Analia together, even if Kellen has always sworn he’ll never take a mate.”
“So he’s going to fight it, like I did.”
Taine grinned. “And he’ll be equally unsuccessful.”
“You sound sure of yourself.”
His mouth returned to her neck. “Love won’t be denied.”
“And if it comes with scorching hot sex first?”
This time he purred like the very contented dragon he was. “All the better.”
“I need to call Lia back.”
He allowed enough separation for her to make the call.
Analia answered with, “Will Tanya let me in to visit the dog?”
“I don’t know whether she’s there or not. Taine called his boss after hearing your description of the wolfhound. There’s a good chance he belongs to Supernatural Ops. Maksim is on his way to the shelter right now. He’s absolutely going to want to talk to you.”
Analia’s sigh of relief swept into Taine’s kitchen. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I’m not sure where he’s coming from, but he’ll find you.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Analia laughed. “Because you’re going to be otherwise occupied for the rest of the night.”
Saffron trailed a hand down the center of Taine’s bare chest, savoring the way his abs tightened, no doubt at the demand of his cock, so it could stretch past the waistband of his jeans and coax her into freeing it. “I’m definitely busy for the rest of the night.”
She ended the call and didn’t resist when Taine took the phone from her hand and dropped it on the kitchen counter. “If I remember correctly,” he said, “you were just about to be mounted by your mate.”