Hour of the Lion

Chapter Twenty-one

“Vicki?” Her freckled face worried, Jamie looked up at Vic.

“What is it, munchkin?” Vic walked down the sidewalk, eyes alert for any problems. Nothing. A few kids on their way to school. A man burning leaves. A fire salamander joyfully danced in the bonfire. “Is something wrong?”

“Not…exactly.” Jamie chewed on her lower lip. “See, I owe you for saving me, and I’m not sure how to repay you.”

“Owe me?”

“Uh-huh. It’s the Law of Reciprocity. Favor for favor, or favor for damage done. You know-to achieve balance between us?”

Seems like she’d run into that rule of theirs before, and the baby was dead serious. Vic scratched her nose, stalling for time. She sure as hell wasn’t going to put the kid in debt for being rescued. “Okay, here’s the deal. My rules say that grown-ups protect kids.”

Jamie nodded solemnly. “We have that too, but it’s not a Rule.”

“I was only doing my job.” When Jamie opened her mouth to protest, Vic held up a finger. “And it happens that I like to fight. So I think for our exchange, you should do something for me you like to do.”

Jamie’s face scrunched up, and then she nodded.

“Therefore,” Vic tried to remember the words Calum and Thorson had used, “in balance, I figure you should make chocolate chip cookies, and I get as many as I want before Alec or your daddy have any.”

“Or me.” Jamie gave a little skip, then sobered. “The balance is fair. Accepted.”

“Good deal.” Relief that she’d successfully navigated another strange shifter custom vied with sheer greed. Chocolate chip cookies all hers before the greedy bastards got to them. Score! Grinning, Vic stopped at the entrance to the school yard. This would be the kid’s first day back since the mess almost a week ago. Vic took her by the shoulders, studied her face. No fear, only a trace of anxiety. Okay, then. Ignoring the babble of children’s voices, Vic ordered, “You’re going to do fine.”

“I know,” Jamie said. Scowling, she kicked a lump of snow into the fence. “Only I’ve got to make up a stupid biology project.”

“You’ll manage. I’ll see you this afternoon.” Vic watched as the kid trotted into the school yard, and her friends swamped her. Yes, the girl would manage. Smart, sociable, with a big heart, and a hell of a lot of courage. She’d make a great Marine.

I was a great Marine. But that life had disappeared. No Marines, no Wells, and no CIA. Firming her mouth, she turned away from the children’s laughter and headed toward the Wild Hunt. She’d report in to Calum who’d had an unexpected delivery for the tavern. After letting him know his daughter had made it all right, maybe she’d go see Thorson. Have some coffee or something.

It wasn’t like she had anything better to do with her day. Or her life.

Dammit. Imitating Jamie, she kicked a chunk of snow, sending it flying into a nearby tree. A pixie clinging to a branch chattered angrily at her. Oops. She glanced up at the angry, tiny face. “Sorry. I forgot about you guys.”

After clicking its nails at Vic-was that the way a sprite flipped someone off?-it disappeared back into the branches. God, her world had gotten bizarre.

Vic walked slowly down the snow-patched sidewalks. Calum said she needed to stay in Cold Creek for at least six months, to learn shifter rules, how to control the trawsfurs, let her body adapt fully. What the hell was she going to do during that time, and even after that? Being a barmaid was fun, but not for a lifetime. It would be like surviving on cake instead of real food. But she wasn’t exactly trained for much. I’m a soldier, dammit!

Not any more. The gusting breeze tangled her hair, and she brushed it back impatiently. She needed to call Wells and tell him she wanted to muster out. The thought left an aching hollow in her gut. He’d recruited her into his special undercover unit years ago, given her Special Forces training, CIA agent training. They spoke the same language of duty and honor and loyalty, and in typical Wells’ fashion, he’d known just what to say to get her on board. “I need you.”

Now she’d lose him too.

Her throat somehow cut off her wind, and she stopped to breathe and look out at the snow-dusted mountains, soaring tall into the blue sky. Immovable and unchanging, so different from the weak humans below.

She inhaled, let the pain pass through her. She’d survive, of course she would. She started walking again, trying to formulate a plan. Calum didn’t need a full-time barmaid, so somewhere in this place, she’d have to find a nine-to-five job. Selling cars maybe.

The thought made her gag.

Calum looked up as the door opened. Vic dropped her coat on a table and crossed the room to join him behind the bar. “Can I help?”

He studied her for a moment. “Is something amiss?” he asked.

She knelt beside the box of bottles he was unpacking and handed one up for him to put away. “No. Jamie didn’t have any problem with returning. She was drowning in friends when I left.”

“Not with Jamie. With you.”

What, did she have some sign on her forehead saying, I’m unhappy? “Nah. I’m fine.” She held up another bottle, and he placed it on the counter rather than the cupboard.

Mouth in a straight line, he pulled her to her feet. His eyes were dark gray, the stormy color darkening fast.

“What?” she asked. Weak, Vic, weak. Questions were a stupid way to-

“I asked because I care,” he said in a level tone, his gaze not leaving her face. “And I would prefer to have an honest answer.”

God, he was even better than Wells at boxing a person in. She huffed a breath and looked away. The bastard didn’t move, didn’t release her, didn’t talk…just held her in place…waiting. Like a fucking cat outside a gopher hole. She had a feeling he’d stand there until she replied.

“Fine, then.” She stared down at the unpacked boxes. “I can’t go back to my old job, and I don’t know what to do now.”

“Ah, cariad. Your whole life has turned upside-down, hasn’t it?”

The question stabbed like a knife, and she choked on a whimper. Raising her eyes, she met his gaze. Understanding. Sympathy. Dammit, she didn’t need…didn’t want… The sob rising in her throat humiliated her.

He pulled her against his chest, holding her firmly, ignoring her attempt to push away. “Shhh. Let it come. You have lost much.” The low rumble of his voice soothed; his arms enclosed her in warmth. Safety.

Sobs rose up, choking their way out in ugly sounds. She tried to turn, to hide, but he just pressed her face to his shoulder until she gave up and wept.

It seemed like forever that she cried, and past forever before she could stop. Little hiccupping sobs kept breaking free, but he stood, patient as a mountain, holding her as his warm hand made long, comforting strokes up and down her back.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered into his shoulder.

“I’m not. You were overdue.”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Indeed no. You are stronger than any woman I know.” His cheek rested on top of her head, the feeling comforting. “Alas, Victoria, no matter how strong, you are still only mortal. You needed to mourn, cariad.”

Her breath shuddered out. “Okay. Well.” When she pulled back this time, he released her. “Ah. Thanks. For…holding me.” God, how embarrassing.

He had a slight smile. “My pleasure.”

“Oh, sure.” All guys liked a bawling woman.

Hand on her cheek, he bent and kissed the tears away, his lips like velvet. His scent washed over her, clean soap with a tantalizing hint of musky male. And then he threaded his fingers through her hair, hummed a little in pleasure, and took her mouth. Possessed and staked his territory.

Unexpected desire exploded within her like a bomb, and she pressed closer. Running her hands up his back, she savored the rock-hard muscles under his thin white shirt. He cupped her bottom, pulling her against him, and the bulge of his hard cock made her shiver. When he stepped away from her, her shirt somehow came right off.

“Hey,” she protested. “I thought-Alec isn’t here. How does-”

“Not all sex has to be a threesome, little cat. And you need something to take your mind off your sadness.” Pulling on her hair to tip her head back, he kissed his way down to the curve in her neck. Holding her in place, he undid her jeans, and then shoved her pants and briefs down to tangle at her feet.

“I have something I’ve wanted to do ever since you walked into my tavern.” With firm hands, he lifted her and sat her on the bar top. The glossy wood felt chill under her bare bottom.

He opened her legs and stepped between her thighs, then hugged her. A second later her bra dropped away. Sneaky cat.

“Now wait a minute.” Naked in a bar? Was the man insane? “No, Calum.” She took his hands, thinking to control him.

His jaw set, and his expression took on a dangerous edge. He moved her hands to her sides. “Your hands will remain there. Am I clear, Victoria?”

God, when his voice took on that lethal note of command, everything inside her quivered. How could he do this to her when no one else could? She swallowed.

His lips curved up. “I see you understand.” He pulled her forward and kissed her breasts, his mouth shockingly hot against her cool skin. His tongue circled until her nipples grew hard and throbbing, then he sucked one, then the other. Shivers ran through her, pooling in her groin like molten lead.

With a small smile, he set a hand on her sternum, pushing her back, forcing her to lie flat with her legs dangling off the end. “Oh, yes, this is exactly where I imagined you,” he murmured.

What? The bar stood much higher than his crotch, how was he… He ran his finger down her moist cleft and followed with his mouth.

“Oh, God. Listen, this isn’t-”

“Oh, this is.” He nipped her inner thigh admonishingly.

“Calum. Please-”

“Be silent, little cat.” With his free hand, he lifted her right leg up, setting her heel on the bar’s edge, pressing her knees to the outside, and opening her farther. Exposing her fully. She felt vulnerable. Hot. Needy. His tongue circled her clit, flicked across it. With one hand, he gripped her knee firmly, keeping her open. With his other, he toyed with her nipples.

Her head spun with the sensations. His mouth nibbling, biting, sucking, licking. His fingers circling, pinching, stroking. Then he moved his hand from her breast to her pussy. One finger slid inside her. She was so very wet, yet she could feel each knuckle as it entered. Her hips rose.

He slowed, his tongue moving away from her center, leaving her tight, wanting, and she made a whimpering noise. His teeth nibbled on her thigh before he returned, and she realized, in this, as in everything, he was totally focused, careful. In control.

His tongue swept back over her, reawakening the nerves with a rush. He circled her core, rousing her until she was so ready, so ready…and then moving. Everything merged; every cell in her skin was sensitized, waiting for the next touch, the next lick. She bowed upward, all her muscles tight.

“Not yet, cariad.” His breath puffed over her engorged clit as his finger moved slowly in and out, until her insides throbbed with need.

She whimpered, hands fisting at her sides as she fought not to move, not to grab his hair. She stared down at him and saw he watched her in return. Pulling his finger out, he pushed in two, filling her more fully, stretching her slightly, his eyes intent on her face.

“God, Calum,” she whined, teetering on the edge. Needing more…just a little more…her clit so tight that it ached. “Oh please.” Please, please, please.

“Yes, I think now.” His mouth came down on her fully, lips closing around her clit. He sucked, gently, then hard as his fingers drove into her. Once, twice.

Her senses exploded in brutal waves of pleasure, the dark ceiling turning bright white. Her hips tried to buck against his restraining hand, and ruthlessly he held her in place, licking gently over her clit, sending spasm after spasm of sensation through her.

Her heart hammered until she thought she’d choke with it. “Oh God, stop…” When he finally released her, she felt as if a Bradley tank had run over her body.

A moment later, she blinked as he walked up to kiss her. She could taste herself on him as he savored her lips. Fondling her breasts, he took her mouth more deeply as if he could brand her with his kiss.

When he lifted his head, she smiled up at him and pushed herself up on her elbows. Naked. He was still fully dressed. That was…a weird feeling. “That’s quite a bartending skill, you have there,” she said, trying for light.

“Thank you.” He scooped her up off the bar like a glass of beer, ignoring her startled squeak. He walked toward the fireplace.

“Now, wait-” Fuck, she hadn’t even thought about someone coming in. Where’d her brains go? “Calum-”

He laid her, stomach-down, across the back of the couch. Her legs dangled, and her elbows rested on the cushions. Her butt stuck up in the air like a target. “What are you-”

“Be silent, little cat.” He slapped her bottom, and the sharp sting zinged straight to her clit which sent up a demanding throb. She moaned.

“Ah. I had wondered if you’d enjoy a little pain with your pleasure, cariad.” His forearm across her low back, with his free hand he swatted her ass cheeks, his palm hard, the swats painful.

And yet, somehow the burning engulfed her pussy in dark need. A frightening feeling. Panting, she squirmed, tried to kick.

“No kicking.” She received a punishing blow that truly hurt and showed how much he was holding back. She groaned with the pain and the confusing pleasure.

His hand slid between her legs. “Ah, you are very wet. This is something Alec and I will enjoy exploring with you in the future. But for now…” She heard the slide of his zipper, and then he thrust into her so hard and fast that her breath whooshed out with a groan, and every nerve deep inside her joined in the pulsing chorus of need. When her legs kicked, he shoved his thighs against hers, his hips between her thighs.

He bent over her, his hard chest against her back. His groin rubbed her burning butt cheeks, the feeling disconcerting, hurting and yet pulling her deeper into need.

“Calum…please…”

“Let go, little cat,” he murmured in her ear. “You cannot control everything-especially this.” When he bit the back of her neck, his erection pressed even deeper, and shock waves coursed up her spine. Bent over the couch, she was helpless, could only mewl as he set up a hard, fast rhythm. His hand slid underneath her to massage her breasts, pulling on the nipples as he stroked into her, his cock so thick, it seemed to stretch her more with each thrust.

Her hands tightened on the cushions as the sensations increased, and then he straightened slightly. His fingers swirled in her wetness, making her wiggle. It felt so good, almost too much. But then, his slickened hand slid between the cheeks of her butt, and one finger pressed on her asshole.

“Hey! No!” She tried to move, to escape.

He gripped her hip firmly. “Victoria, Alec and I would like to enjoy you here.”

But but but. This was so not what she had in mind. She’d considered it…maybe…way in the future. Certainly not now.

Now. His finger circled the rim, rousing odd sensations, and then pushed mercilessly inside.

Jesus fuck. A tremor ran through her as nerves sparked awake. The merciless way he held her, not letting her pull away, seemed to make her bones melt.

“Gently, little cat. Let your body get used to the feeling. After this, if you truly hate it, then we’ll talk.”

Her anus pulsed around the intrusion, and she felt…strange. Not just having a finger in her ass, but she’d actually let him do it. Did she want him to push her?

He rubbed her ass cheeks lightly, and then started to move. His cock pushed deeper into her pussy as his finger pulled out of her anus. Then he thrust into her pussy, once, twice, and retreated just as his finger plunged back in.

An electrical vise clamped onto her spine as the sensations rushed together, forming one huge dam in a river of pleasure that got deeper and deeper. Her vagina, her ass tightened around him…and then the dam burst under the pressure, and sensation blasted through her whole body. She screamed as her spasms hit the hard intrusions in her vagina and anus, rebounding back with devastating pleasure. Her fingers clawed at the couch as she buried her face in the cushions. Dear God.

Before the shockwaves had diminished, he pulled his hand from her ass and bent over her, pushing his cock even deeper. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her bottom up higher as he slammed into her. The rumble of his voice deepened, roughened as she felt the jerking of his release.

He wrapped his arms around her in a hard…comforting…embrace, making her tremble. He’d taken her, done what he wanted…and she’d let him. She tried to catch her breath, to move-to escape-and he growled a warning in her ear.

A shiver ran down her spine.

Yet his hands on her stayed gentle, his lips soft as he kissed her cheek. “Little cat, can’t you trust me not to hurt you…in a way you don’t care for?”

She bit her lip against the strangest need to cry and managed to nod. He hadn’t hurt her. Pushed her past her comfort zone definitely, and yet, everything he did just turned her on more. And that was almost scarier.

“Thank you, cariad, for sharing one of my fantasies.” He nipped her nape lightly, sending goosebumps down her arms, and added, “Alec and I will be interested in helping you live out some of yours. Tonight.”

God, I might not survive the next few months.

Vic’s legs wobbled as she walked beside Calum down Main Street. The cold dry wind slapped her flushed face. “What was that for, anyway?” she asked. “You don’t usually… I mean, it’s daytime.” And why did that kind of swamping sex always leave her feeling…little? Needy?

He stopped and turned her to face him. As if she’d turned into a toddler, he zipped up her jacket. “You break my heart when you’re sad or in tears, cariad,” he said gently. “I needed you in my arms.” The crease appeared in his cheek as he smiled faintly. “Forcing pleasure upon you was just a side-benefit.”

She looked away from his intent eyes. “Damned if I get how you can do that,” she muttered. “I’ve never…”

“Never relinquished control. We know. I think you have long needed a lover to command you, but you don’t trust-didn’t trust-anyone enough to give them that power.” His hand cupped her cheek, bringing her gaze back to him. “I am honored that you trust me with your surrender.”

His words sank into her, starting a tremor deep inside her. Why did it have to be so…right?

Him and his fucking fantasies-so maybe she’d had a few slave-girl dreams, but to actually live them out? Real life? Hell with that. No one would ever get that kind of control over her. Except he had it already, Sergeant Slave Girl. She pulled herself together and said lightly, “Hell, if your God trusts you with so much power, who am I to disagree?”

Amusement lit his eyes. “Your God now too, little cat. But if you truly become frightened or overwhelmed or are in real pain, a sincere ‘Stop’ will halt both me and Alec. Then again, if you’re simply saying ‘no’ without a true objection, then I will know.” His smile held a wicked tilt. “And since you seemed to enjoy it, I will probably punish you.”

God. Her body jerked back to life at the thought and she swallowed hard. Let’s talk control, not punishment. Please. “The way you order me… Alec doesn’t-it’s not like this with Alec…” She wasn’t sure what she wanted to ask.

“You and Alec are equals in bed.” His devastating grin flashed as he stroked her hair. “But I am in charge.”

The words sent a tingle all the way to her toes, one she tried to ignore. “You think.”

His hand fisted in her hair, and he tilted her head back. She could escape-defensive moves flipped through her mind, but the sheer liquid feeling of her body and limbs kept her in place. He waited a second, then kissed her lightly. “Not think, little cat. I know.”

He released her and pulled her against his side with an arm around her waist, before starting back down the walk.

“Did you have something to do in town?” she asked. He hadn’t finished unpacking the boxes.

“I do.” He ran a finger down her cheek. She was still so sensitive, she felt the zing all the way to her toes. Considering how his gaze heated, he could tell. “I’m taking you to Alec.”

Alec. She closed her eyes as storm clouds of guilt piled up inside her. She hadn’t thought about him once. Not once as she and his brother screwed like bunnies all over the tavern. “Calum.” She stopped. What did she want to say? “Fuck, this is a mess,” she ended up muttering to her shoes.

He ran his knuckles over her cheek so gently she wanted to snuggle back into his arms. “There is much you have yet to learn about shifter society and sex. It’s difficult to explain, especially to a human raised without littermates.”

“Like what?”

“For now, just know and believe that when it comes to mating, littermates feel as if they are one being. There is no jealousy if one makes love to a female, any more than your left hand would envy the right for touching a male.”

“But you told me Thorson got scars from fighting for women-and the bear that night…”

“Ah.” He gave her hair a tug and pulled her back into stride. “Littermates won’t fight each other over a female, but everyone else is fair game. And we will discuss this further, but the center of Cold Creek is not a suitable location.” He nodded at Rebecca Westerland who was leaving Albert Baty’s grocery, then glanced down at Vic. “Alec will also demand his fair share of your attention as we each enjoy having you alone now and then.” Without waiting for her to speak, he opened the door to the police station and ushered her in.

Alec sat in his office, head bent over paperwork. She couldn’t help admiring his broad shoulders. There was something sexy about a tough guy doing paperwork. He’d left a rose on her pillow this morning. He was so sweet, and despite Calum’s assurances, guilt lay like a stone in her belly.

He looked up. “‘Bout time. You were due here an hour ago.” His nostrils flared, and then his eyes narrowed as he studied Vic.

She flushed, knowing her lips were swollen. Hell, she probably smelled of Calum.

To her shock, he smiled with what looked like approval. Well damn.

He waved to the chairs beside the desk and waited as she and Calum sat down. “Vicki, Calum and I talked about how you’re stuck here. Being a barmaid might be fun, but not for a prolonged period. Not for someone like you.”

“Like me?”

“Smart, skilled, tough as nails, and dedicated to whatever you do. You need something more demanding than a fluff job,” Alec answered.

“Well.” She blinked, warmth filling her belly. Was that really how he saw her? “You have a solution?” And what would that solution be? Enlist? Join the Marines? Been there, done that.

“Yep,” Alec said smugly. “Come and work for me.”

Here? She looked around the tiny police station. Receptionist/dispatcher to one side of the door. Alec’s office, the patrol officer’s area on the other. A door to Alec’s infamous two jail cells in the back. “Are you serious?”

“Very.”

“Oh.” Vic chewed on her lip. Police work. Protecting people. Using her brain to solve problems. “Don’t I need some certification and classes and all that?”

“You will. But for now, until you decide if you like it, and I discover if you’re any good, we’ll call you an entry level sheriff’s deputy.”

“I don’t know-you must know better qualified people.”

“Hardly.” Alec gave her an even look. “Qualified people rarely want to work in the boring boondocks. Of those that do, too many are arrogant bastards I wouldn’t trust to take out the garbage.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have a couple of good ones now. Men who are here for the same reason I am-because this is where my family and friends live.”

“Oh. Well-”

“With both Daonain and humans in an area, it works better when shifters handle enforcement.” He grinned. “It’s not appropriate to ask a human to calm down a pissed-off bear.” Then his smile dropped away. “And if something happens like it did with Jamie, the standard human response is to get help from a higher authority. But if the government or military were called in…”

Calum growled under his breath.

Cold slid up Vic’s spine at the deadly sound. “What do you think they’d do?”

Alec’s eyes, so warm and full of fun, turned terrifyingly cold. Please, never let him look at me like that. “At least twice, we’ve rescued a shifter getting gutted on a lab table in a military site. Just another specimen to dissect. If they truly believed we exist?” His mouth thinned. “Humans have a long history of genocide.”

“Oh.”

His face cleared. “Anyway, with the problems recently, I could use another deputy. One who is skilled enough to handle deadly situations. Truthfully, Vicki? I need you.”

There was a knot in her chest, one she hadn’t even known was present until it started to loosen. She could have a job where she could use her skills. She was needed. She breathed in, worked for the right casual tone, “Oh, well then, sure. I accept.”

Eyeing the phone, Vic sat on a chair in the bedroom designated hers. Each day, something new appeared. A quilt in soothing blues and greens. A handmade rug from a local craftswoman. A painting of the mountains above Cold Creek. The very comfortable chair she sat in now. She smiled. She hadn’t spent a night in the bed yet, but to have a room of her own was comforting. She used it when the guys pissed her off, so she wouldn’t rip their obstinate heads off.

She closed her eyes. Stalling, Sergeant?

She picked up the phone. Set it down. Picked it up again and dialed.

“Wells.”

Dammit, why did he only answer when she didn’t want to talk with him? But would this be the last time she talked with him? A place deep within hollowed out with emptiness. “Um. It’s me, Vi-Sergeant Morgan.”

She could almost see his attention move from paperwork to focus on her. Like a laser beam.

“Sergeant. I expected you in person.”

“Well, yeah. I know.” She grimaced. This was like having little pieces of her body-her soul-hacked off. “Something came up, and I…won’t be returning. I’m resigning.”

Silence.

“Um. Effective today. Sir.”

He’d be narrowing his eyes now, as if he could see across the country. “Are you still in Washington state?”

She hadn’t expected that question. “Yessir. Sir, I’m sending you the official paperwo-”

“Why are you resigning?”

Went right to the heart of the matter, didn’t he? Sometimes she had to wonder if he and Calum were related. But she’d already thought of the answer to this-an honest one, oddly enough. “I fell for a man.” Men. “It’s serious and I don’t want to leave him.” Them. And it would be really awkward to turn into a fuzzball during a firefight. “Anyway, sir, I will be staying here.”

“Cold Creek?”

“Um. Yes-how did you know?”

“I’m a spy, Morgan; it’s what we do.”

She snorted. Waited.

“You had a copy of your physical sent to you in Cold Creek,” he explained.

She closed her eyes and thumped her head on back of the chair. Dumbshit. Swane had probably tracked her that way. Fucking-A, she’d done it to herself. “Got it.”

“About that matter you wanted me to investigate-”

“That’s been dealt with,” she interrupted quickly. God, Calum and Alec would go ballistic if they knew a CIA muckety-muck was investigating Swane. “The local law enforcement took care of it.”

“Then I won’t waste my time.”

Her sigh of relief was silent. “No need, sir.”

She could hear his fingers tapping his desktop. Finally, he said, “All right, Sergeant. I can hardly keep you in service against your will. I’ll get the paperwork started. And I wish you the best.”

“You too, sir,” she whispered to the dial tone.

It was done. She breathed out against the pain, feeling as if she’d cut out her heart. Would she end up as with the amputees she’d known, mourning the loss forever? But now she could move on.

And she wouldn’t have to tell the guys what she’d done for a living.

She shivered as she remembered the frigid look in Alec’s eyes, Calum’s growl. Well, if she still knew them in a couple of decades, she might casually mention she’d served in the military.

But ever confess to being a CIA agent to this bunch of overly paranoid kitty-cats with claws? Never in a kazillion years.

Vidal read through the information on the new pill the doctor had prescribed. It might halt the symptoms of the Parkinson’s…for a while. Then everything would go downhill.

At least, this bought him some time. He heard a knock on his office door. “Come in.”

Swane. At last. Pale. Face tight with pain. Moving carefully. Long red marks on his cheek and neck had the ugly wrinkling of flesh glued shut.

“You look like hell.”

Swane’s grimaced, his eyes cold. “I’m eating enough antibiotics to choke a cow-after being on IVs for over a week. Fucking cougar bites and claws are bad as human bites. That’s probably why we lost all those homeless people.”

Vidal nodded. He’d have to remember to begin the antibiotics before starting the transformation. “Did you come up with a plan? One that will work this time?”

“Fuck, like I knew the kid would turn into a cat?” Swane ran his hand over his head, the scratching sound showing he hadn’t shaved it recently. “We got information on a few wereanimals in town-the old biddy didn’t know them all-but only the tavern owner has a kid.”

Somehow that didn’t seem right. Vidal regarded the ex-mercenary suspiciously.

“We can try again to grab the Morgan bitch if you figure it’s worth it,” Swane said. “But we don’t know if she was changed into a werecat or how much she knows.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“Basically the kid’s our best bet.” Swane’s eyes turned strange, sending a chill up Vidal’s spine. “No matter what, I’m going to get the little bitch.”

And that was what the problem was. Swane wanted the girl…and was becoming increasingly unreliable. But bringing in new help increased the risk. Vidal scowled. He obviously needed to keep a closer watch on what was going on. “They’ve seen your face.”

Swane scowled. “It’s a real bum-fuck town. Only a few people on the street, and they all know each other.”

Vidal smiled slowly, his gaze on the picture on the wall. His uncle had pull with the movie industry in L.A. He could set up a shoot for a documentary-or anything, really, so long as there were cameras and people. “I can get a shitload of people on the streets. And lure the kid out too. No brat in a backwater will stay away from a movie being filmed.”