MINE TO POSSESS

Liking the fact that she was comfortable enough to give him orders, he searched the room for a secondary exit. The window was high but more than big enough. He could climb out with Talin on his back. Satisfied, he walked back to where she stood against the door.

“Most people don’t react as badly as that guy,” he said, bracing his arms palms down on either side of her head. He left enough room that she didn’t feel trapped, but still, his leopard purred when she remained in place. “He must be one of those humans who thinks of us as animals. Probably waiting for me to order live venison.”

“Don’t take that high-and-mighty tone.” She poked a finger into his chest. “Unless you don’t know of any changelings who think of humans as prey.”

He winced. “You’re right. Some of the predatory species tend to lump humans in the same group as cattle and deer.” Prey, kept safe only because even in animal form, a changeling’s mind was half man.

“What do you think?” she asked, tone arch.

“I think I don’t want to feel the sharp edge of your tongue.” Pushing off the door, he walked to the western side of the square table and pulled out a chair. It was a position that would allow him to keep an eye on both exits. “A seat, my lady.”

She wandered over, looked him up and down. “Funny, you look like Clay.”

He jerked up his chin in a silent question.

“You’re being charming.”

If she knew the control it was taking to keep the brutal possessiveness of his nature from taking over, she would’ve been terrified. His hands clenched on the back of the chair as she sat, the high tail of her hair brushing over his fingers. Though he knew she didn’t consciously realize it, her acceptance of the seat—of allowing him behind her—was an act of primal trust, baring as it did the vulnerable nape of her neck.

He wanted to lean down and press a kiss to that creamy skin. Tally didn’t have freckles there. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, intrigued by his discovery. “I’ll be back to surly and uncommunicative soon enough.”

“Idiot.” She laughed as he took a seat beside her, on the side closest to the door. No one would be able to get to her without going through him. He was about to give in to temptation and reach out to play with a strand of her hair when he heard footsteps. Rising, he went to the door and opened it.

A tall man—dark hair, dark eyes, possible weapon in a shoulder holster—exited the staircase behind the ma?tre d’. Clay heard him dismiss the restaurant employee and head directly to the door. “You must be Clay Bennett.” Reaching him, the man extended his hand.

“And you must be the SOB who tried to pin a tail on me this morning.”

He heard Talin gasp but ignored it, his attention on Santos’s reaction as their hands dropped away from each other. The man was smooth, he’d give him that. Not a flicker of surprise marred his expression. “You sound very sure.”

“He sang like a canary.” Clay had taken care of the tail before going Down Below.

“Ah.” Santos raised an eyebrow. “That explains the lack of a communiqué from him. Is he still alive?”

“For now.” Clay moved back, allowing the other man to enter but blocking his access to Talin.

Santos closed the door behind himself. “Talin, you’re looking well.”

“Uh-huh.”

Clay was pleased to see Talin’s skeptical expression as she eyed her boss’s elegantly cut suit. The man looked like a corporate shark, but Clay’s animal saw him as something far more interesting—a predator clothed in human skin.

Giving them a meaningless smile, Santos took a seat. “Perhaps we should order first?”

Clay returned to his chair. “We’ve already eaten, but coffee might be good.”

Talin picked up the menu pad and input selections for both of them. “I’ll have coffee, too. Maybe a slice of cake.”

“You’ll excuse me if I eat. I’ve had a rather hectic day.” Santos made his selections and sent them through as Talin sent hers. “I’ve just come from a private hospital.”

“One of the kids?” Talin’s concern colored the air.

“I’m afraid Max is no longer in play.”

Clay tensed at the tone of his voice. “What happened?”

“He was attacked.” Santos’s eyes went flat, deadly. “Beaten into unconsciousness.”

Talin sucked in a horrified gasp. “Is he—”

“He has several broken bones and some cranial swelling but he’s alive, thanks to an interruption by a group of civic-minded individuals.” The Shine director passed over a card. “That’s the private facility where we moved him after we realized what had happened. It’s far more secure than the public hospitals.”

Clay looked at the card, recognizing the area. “Any idea who attacked him?”

“We’re assuming it was the same person or persons who vandalized Talin’s home—Max wasn’t able to tell us anything.” He folded his arms in front of him and smiled. It was a shark’s smile, full of teeth. “He got one of them, though. The others took the body, but from the blood splatter and tissue left behind, it was a head shot.”