But the guard blocked the exit. The room was too small to be sure we could rush past him. And I was wearing the collar I’d used to stash my tools in. A collar that would be easy to grab....
Tank leapt at the guard before I could decide on the best course of action. His scent was perfectly calm, yet he snapped and snarled like a wild animal. One bite that didn’t quite connect. A bone-chilling growl. Then he’d slid past the guard and into the night.
He meant to clear the way for me. I knew that. After all, any normal rent-a-cop would have been traumatized by Tank’s behavior. Would have backpedalled and provided me with an easy escape.
But this security guard was a dog person. He wasn’t traumatized and his eyes were keen. “What’s in your mouth?” he demanded, lunging for me.
I tried to sidestep, but I wasn’t quite fast enough. The guard caught my right hind leg just as I made it to the exterior door.
Chapter 10
I wasn’t about to drop the bracer, which meant I couldn’t bite the hand that held me. But I could kick backwards for all I was worth. Maybe my toenails would catch on the guard’s skin....
No dice. The foot he wasn’t holding skittered off his clothing. The guard swore and clenched down tighter on my other leg.
The door pressed against my shoulder as I was dragged inexorably back into the guard house. A wild glance in the opposite direction proved that Tank was too far away to stop the inevitable. Within seconds, I’d be locked behind a door that required a keycard to open. I’d lose the bracer and be captured in my lupine skin.
No. Wasn’t happening.
I twisted, ignoring the pain in my stuck ankle and the strain down my side that felt like the worst sort of power yoga. Lashing out with my right front paw, I scratched at the guard’s face, careful to steer clear of his eyeballs.
And this time, he reacted. His hand twisted against my ankle, pain and instinct working against his impulse to be kind to furry critters. A sharp spike of agony ran up my hind leg. Despite myself, I yelped.
The yelp, not the scratch, is what made the guard let go. He was a dog lover at heart and he knew he’d hurt me. His formerly unbendable fingers sprang away as if my leg had turned into a hot poker...
...And I accepted the reprieve. Squirmed out the gap between door and frame, glad that I had four legs so running was feasible despite the throbbing in my right rear appendage....
I was ten feet from the door when something furry brushed past me in the opposite direction. Tank. Darting between our pursuer’s legs and tangling him up. Or so I assumed from the burst of expletives and the thud behind my back.
Tank hadn’t left me. Even when my injury turned me into a liability. My lungs expanded, something fierce and joyful pushing my legs faster.
Unfortunately, the guard was equally tenacious. Tank caught up to me within seconds, but human footsteps weren’t far behind us. And unlike Tank, I couldn’t outrun our pursuer. Not when I was hobbling on three paws, biting back each jolt of pain when I skipped the fourth.
It was all I could do to follow Tank’s tail as he led me to a hole in an old wooden fence. As if he’d scouted out a human-proof escape plan before joining me. My own plan was fuzzy beneath the pain of my ankle. All I could focus on was Tank, waiting solid as a stone.
This time, I didn’t even consider distrusting him. Instead, I shimmied through the gap. Followed as Tank once again took the lead and guided me down a path I was unfamiliar with.
Behind parked cars. Down dark alleys. I could neither see nor smell the guard now. We’d left him far behind.
Only then did I realize we were traveling in the wrong direction. Away from the safety of my apartment rather than toward it. Still, I didn’t curve toward my original destination as Tank skittered down a steep slope into a pool of pure darkness. Instead, I followed, my paws splashing into slowly moving water. In front of me, Tank had finally stopped.
I did too, panting hard and trying to ignore the throb of my injured ankle that made my teeth ache. Tentatively, I dropped that paw down to join its fellows. Frigid liquid soaking through dirty fur felt unbelievably good.
As I recovered my equilibrium, I remembered the spot we were in from earlier scouting. The stream where I soaked my sore paws rose to the surface for half a block before being channeled back beneath streets and residences. It wasn’t a park. Just a forgotten corner of wild land.
No one came here in daylight. In the dark, it was bound to be empty. Safe enough to risk shifting into humanity.
Safe...other than my lupine companion. Still, ignoring the shiver of bad experiences with other male werewolves, I sucked in courage and shifted up.
COLD AIR STRUCK HUMAN skin as fur receded. I shivered. Spat the bracer into one hand, slapped it onto my opposite wrist for safekeeping...then fought for balance as my injured ankle collapsed beneath my weight.
Broad hands caught my shoulders before I fell. For an instant, they burned heady awareness into me. Then exhaustion and pain beat out attraction.
And it was as if Tank could smell my mood. His fingers stayed far from erogenous zones as he growled out an order. “Sit,” he demanded, lowering me onto the muddy stream bank.
Then his fingers were prodding my ankle. I hissed, barely able to see the buckling of skin as his jaw tensed.
I didn’t want to know, but I asked anyway. “How bad is it?”
Tank’s head shook ever so slightly, a flutter of movement in the darkness. “Could be worse. Probably a minor strain.”
“Minor?” Despite the cold water, my ankle felt like a train had run over it.
“If you keep the foot elevated, it’ll likely heal within twenty-four hours.”
Well, that was impossible. Not the healing part—the keeping my foot elevated part.
After all, I needed to collect my car then head up to Highlands to nab Harper’s cell phone. She’d promised to remove the battery as soon as she hung up, but I couldn’t trust a teenager to dispose of incriminating evidence. The guard had seen me leave the museum with the bracer. This wouldn’t be a cold case, unnoticed until the following day....
Tank’s hand returned to my shoulder, pressing me backwards. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“The job’s not complete. I need to....”
My voice trailed off. I wasn’t about to spill my guts in front of a stranger. It was oddly difficult to remember that about Tank. That he was a stranger.
“Stay here,” he ordered, ignoring my abortive explanation. His hand retreated and something in me regretted the loss of contact.
Just because of the cold, of course. Cold air, cold water. A bit of shock in the aftermath of my injury. I was shivering and Tank’s hand had provided much-needed warmth.
Now, he loomed above me, more like a tower than a tank. “I’m getting my car. I’ll be back in five minutes.”
Before I could answer, he was gone.
I DIDN’T INTEND TO wait, of course. Not for a man who’d butted his way into my life without explanation or permission.
But it took over a minute to feel around for a stick hefty enough to lean on. And when I struggled my way to standing, there was someone present at the top of the bank.
Not Tank. Not a male of any sort. Instead, the streetlight behind her silhouetted feminine curves. Meanwhile, I inhaled the scent of blackberries so strong I could almost taste summer on my tongue.
Marina’s voice had all of the berries’ tartness and none of their sweetness. “You look...terrible.”
“How did you find me?” I demanded as she picked her way down the slope. Her lack of answer was answer. She’d found me, I knew, because she was more than human. Whatever Lupe thought, Marina was somehow affiliated with the fae.
But that wasn’t the most relevant point. She held out her hand in silence, demanding the bracer. Instinctively, I twisted sideways so the thick metal bracelet wasn’t within stealing distance. “The check,” I countered.
Unlike most of my employers, Marina didn’t try
to cheat me. “Of course,” she murmured. “Must adhere to the formalities.”
And...there was a check between her fingers. I was 99% certain there hadn’t been one present a second earlier. But the night was dark and my ankle throbbed and Tank would be back any minute.
I took it. Unfolded the paper to ensure my name appeared on the proper line and a scrawled signature on the other. There were quite a lot of zeroes. More, if I was honest, than I’d seen in my bank account in my life.
While I gawked, Marina plucked her own prize from my wrist, raising it to rub against her face. Like a cat scent-marking her favorite armchair. The aroma of blackberries intensified. Out of the corner of my eyes, I thought I caught half a dozen fireflies illuminating a city sidewalk.
“Should I leave you alone to make out with your jewelry?” I asked dryly, sliding the check away into the hidden pouch in my wolf collar. Even though the precious paper would be safe there, my fingers lingered for a second before I managed to force them away.
Marina didn’t miss my reluctance to lose skin contact with my payment. Her eyes glinted...which they shouldn’t have. Not here in the darkness by the creek.
After all, the moon—if there was one—was hidden behind clouds. The street lights were arranged to illuminate road and sidewalk rather than stream bank.
Her voice, when she spoke, was similarly wrong. Musical, like the peal of bells. “There’s more where that came from.”
I didn’t need more. For once in my life, I had enough cash. I could finally consider scratching itches that had seemed irrelevant while serving as Harper’s secondary guardian. Perhaps I’d sign up for an art class....
And yet, my body disagreed with me. It leaned forward without my permission. My mouth echoed Marina’s assertion. “More?”
She smiled, the gesture so beautiful it shouldn’t have chilled me. But it did. “If you’re interested, I’ll be in touch.”
She turned away...and my greed popped like a soap bubble. What was I thinking? If there was even a 1% chance that Marina had been involved in the horse incident....
“This is between you and me only,” I called after her. “My sister isn’t involved.”
But Marina was already gone.
Chapter 11
I wasn’t alone for long. By the time I fought my way to the top of the bank, a car idled there. Emerging from behind the wheel was the male werewolf I’d met yesterday, the one whose ugliness scared teenagers and whose refusal to leave me alone raised my blood pressure...and woke other long-sleeping parts of my limbic system.
To my combined relief and disappointment, he was dressed now. Because werewolves tended to keep spare clothes in their vehicle. The contrast to my nakedness made his power even more intimidating when his hand clamped down on my right elbow.
“Where to?” he asked, his words quiet. He hadn’t intended to intimidate me, I gathered as he half lifted and half guided me toward the passenger seat. There, he pulled out baggy sweats and steadied me as I wriggled into them. He even knelt to assist my injured ankle through the door.
He stayed down there, too, eyebrows raised while waiting for my answer.
Or at least, I thought his eyebrows were raised during the fleeting glimpse he granted me. After that, something Tank saw on my face must have reminded him of his supposed ugliness, of the brightness here beneath a street light. Because he curved his neck away from me, twisting so far tendons bulged out of his skin.
That wasn’t why I agreed to go with him, of course. I was just reacting to the sure knowledge that my throbbing ankle wouldn’t have been able to press the gas and brake pedals of my own vehicle. Urgency pulsed through me, the need to ensure my sister’s safety.
That was the only reason I didn’t shoot Tank down.
“Head for the highway,” I said against my better judgment. “I’ll tell you where to turn next.”
Directions were our only conversation for the next hour. As if Tank didn’t want to scare me out of the decision to trust him. Still, I regretted my choice the instant the tree-lined curve at the furthest corner of Highlands’ grounds opened out before us. There was the culvert, an easy hiding place for a misused cell phone. And there was a human shape standing next to it, arms crossed and feet spread hip-width apart.
The car slowed as Tank took in the same view. “You didn’t say you were meeting someone.”
“I didn’t think I was.” After all, I’d given Harper strict instructions to ditch the cell phone and go back to bed. Not stand shivering in the cold, dark forest waiting for me.
But that shape was my kid sister. I could tell by the way she swiped hair off her face, the way she shielded her eyes against our headlights. She wasn’t sure this was me. Perhaps recognized that the shape of the car was wrong the same way I’d recognized the shape of her body was right.
Tank slammed on the brakes a good long trek from the culvert. “Stay here. I’ll deal with it.”
The car stank of aggression. He thought Harper was, what, a cop? A backstabbing co-conspirator? I guessed I couldn’t blame him since I’d turned up the radio and ignored his one attempt at questions during the commute.
But—“No. You stay here. That’s my....” Sister. I snapped my teeth closed around the word. Couldn’t imagine why it had almost come out in front of this near stranger in the first place.
After all, the purpose of this trip was to protect Harper from repercussions. Not to throw her under the bus.
Tank waited for me to finish the sentence. When I didn’t, he reached behind the seat and came up with yet more spare clothing.
“I’m already wearing more than I need,” I reminded him. The clothes he’d lent me didn’t fit, but they were functional. Only my feet remained bare.
Tank apparently disagreed. Shaking his head, he continued rolling the sweatshirt up into a bundle. “Padding. For your stick,” he rumbled while pressing the fabric down over the jagged wooden end of the object in question.
As if he’d noticed the scratches on my armpit from using the found crutch to pull myself up the stream bank. My skin warmed, then I focused.
Tank’s padding meant he wasn’t going to raise a stink about me going to speak with my sister solo. This felt too easy.
I cocked my head. “You’ll stay here?”
“No.”
My fists clenched...then relaxed as he continued.
“I’ll drop you off and drive past. Park far enough away to be out of earshot. If you need me, just wave.”
It was impossible to be angry with him after that.
“DID IT WORK?”
Harper was bouncing with excitement at being part of something grownup and illicit. So I didn’t have the heart to chastise her for waiting out where anyone could see her. Didn’t have the heart to tell her that she’d taken off her gloves too soon—the plastic bag she’d slipped the phone into would carry prints.
But I’d dispose of everything carefully enough so she wouldn’t be implicated. The phone, I noted, had both battery and SIM card removed and dropped into the bag separately. So I leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead. “You done good, kid.”
“I know.” Harper was dancing around me now, oblivious to the fact I was leaning on a homemade crutch and barely managing to stay upright. But she was fully human. Unlike me, she couldn’t see in the dark. “That guy on the phone totally believed that I was a crazy dog lady. He recommended a trainer and a groomer. You could use a haircut, especially if you’re working with other ‘dogs’ now. Do I get to meet him? Is he cute?”
Harper pranced in closer as she spoke, arm extended as if she intended to grab my hair to illustrate her point. But her eyes weren’t good enough to see where she was going, and I was too tired to take evasive action. Whatever the reason, Harper’s heel came down on the unshod toe of my injured foot.
I hissed. I didn’t mean to, but breath escaped along with a word I tried not to say in Harper’s presence.
“Athena?” She froze. “What’s wrong?”
>
Then hands were on my shoulder. Big hands. Hot hands.
Tank. I blinked, trying to figure out how he’d materialized out of nowhere.
He hadn’t, obviously. Instead, he’d done exactly what he said he would—parked beyond the reach of wolf ears. Then he’d used the hum of the idling car engine to cover up the sound of his approach.
“Who are you?” Harper demanded. Her fists were clenched. She was going to punch him. This was why I kept my sister far away from werewolves, myself excluded.
I tensed when Tank stepped sideways, one arm slipping down to cradle my waist. The gesture felt far more intimate than I suspect he intended. As if he was doing more than holding me up.
But the important part was how he responded to my sister’s show of aggression. “Tank Morales,” he answered, extending his free arm for a handshake.
I exhaled, tension I hadn’t even realized existed flowing out of me. Tank was being a gentleman. Harper, after a moment of consideration, accepted the peace gesture. “Harper D’Argent,” she replied.
“Good grip,” Tank observed. Which likely meant my sister had tried to squeeze his fingers off.
“Ditto,” Harper answered. Her eyes, when they met mine, were full of questions.
Well, there was no point in pretending we weren’t sisters at this point. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five,” I told Harper. “We can talk then.”
And, to my surprise, she accepted the brush off. “Okay,” she agreed. “Nice meeting you, Tank.”
She slid me a glance that was full of mischief. Her eyebrows wiggled. Then she took off, heading back to her simple human life.
Together, Tank and I stood watch until my kid sister made it safely back across the lawn and into her dormitory. My foot and ankle both throbbed, but my waist was warm where Tank’s arm encircled it.
The contact felt strangely right.
Moon Glamour Page 5
