“Yes. And not only possible. Fact. Two males, one huge, big enough to be a dire werewolf, coat color gray. The other male was smaller, more familiar in size, reddish, like the pack that attacked me once before. Attacked you. And died, the whole sick lot of them. Or so we thought.
“One of the males must have survived, and he made a female. She survived her first turn and now lives, if you can call it that, as a crazy bitch in heat. I know. I smelled her.”
Rick climbed the steps slowly, his boots slipping out and up. He stopped two steps below me and sat, his scent surrounding me, hot and rich, with just a hint of Old Spice. An odd choice for a young man, but maybe his cat liked it. My Beast did.
He shook his head, looking up at me as the yellowish lights of the hotel stairwell came on. “Are you sure?” I hadn’t noticed, but he had a blade in one hand, the center plated with sterling silver. He turned it, the sterling catching the light.
“Yeah. I’m sure,” I said. “The small one smelled like the bitch who tortured you. He smelled like her pack. The bigger one smelled like . . . like something else.”
The white form of Rick’s partner—the white werewolf stuck in wolf form—climbed the steps behind Rick. The irony of a were-cat stuck in human form and a werewolf stuck in wolf form being partners for the Psychometry Law Enforcement Division wasn’t lost on me, but that didn’t mean I’d cut him any slack. “Hey, Brute. What’s kicking? Anyone broken your nose lately?” He snarled at me, fangs white in the darkness, and I chuckled. “Try it, big boy. How many times do I have to break your ugly snout to make you understand that you’re only a wolf?” I made the last three words an insult, and I heard a chittering in the night, though I didn’t see the source. Staring the wolf down, I said, “Sorry, Pea,” though I knew she could smell the lie on me.
I heard a scrape in the hallway behind me as Eli decided to reveal himself. He knew he needed to be downwind if he wanted to spy on creatures with better-than-human noses, so clearly he had wanted his presence known. “LaFleur,” he said.
“Younger,” Rick said back, measuring the former Ranger.
It was like a testosterone factory out here. I sighed and stood, pivoting on a boot heel and walking down the hallway to my room. Hand on the knob, I pointed three rooms down. “Room fourteen.”
Rick looked at the door of room fourteen and back to me, his face suddenly playful. “Is that a challenge? Because if it is, consider it taken, darlin’.”
Heat sang through me. Pea, Rick’s supernatural grindylow, the mythical creature charged with keeping were-animals from spreading the were-taint, chittered angrily and stood up from her perch in Brute’s fur. Eli, instead of taking my side, laughed. “She needs to get laid, man, can’t say she don’t, but my room’s right next door, so keep it quiet.”
“Good grief,” I muttered, and went into my room, closing the door with finality. To the empty room I said, “Men.” And not in a nice way. Then I turned to my weapons, laying them out on the bed. These I understood. Men, not so much.
Moments later I heard a tap on the door and soft music from outside. I opened the door a crack. Rick stood in the hallway’s yellow light, that same expression on his face—laughter, playfulness, teasing. Dear God in heaven, I’d missed that look. The heat that had started in the stairwell bloomed and spread through me. He leaned in, smelling totally delicious. “You’re really gonna make me stay all the way down there?”
“I really am.” The words were more whisper than I wanted, and I cleared my voice.
Rick’s smile widened, and I knew he could smell my need on the air. “You gonna join me?”
“I’m really not.”
Rick nodded, his lips drawing into a thoughtful frown. “Well, then. We should take advantage of the moonlight. Let’s hunt.”
My Beast reared up in me, staring through my eyes at a man she had claimed as her mate. Mine, she purred. I didn’t bother to push her down but opened the door to reveal my room with my weapons spread on every surface. “Was kinda hoping you’d wanna hunt,” I said.
Rick whistled and Brute trotted up. I looked at the wolf. “He willing to chase down a wolf who might have been his hunting buddy once upon a time?”
“He’s good with it.” Rick nodded to the adjoining room. “Your pals up for a night hunt?”
The adjoining door opened. “Thought you’d never ask,” Eli said. “Where do we start?”
“That restaurant we ate at last. The werewolves have eaten there. I smelled the house-made, Cajun-style rémoulade sauce on them when they changed back to human. By the stink, I’d say they’re regulars at Joe’s Got Crabs.”
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