Head Hunter

by Layla Nash

  “Cricket?” I glanced down at the massive beast that purred and wrapped his arms around my wrist to keep me petting him. Maybe Mr. Tattoo mentioned the name before, but I hadn’t processed the implications. “Seems like a... petite name for a cat this big.”

  Evershaw grunted. “You don’t know the half of it. He’s the biggest asshole in this house.”

  “I find that hard to believe.” The words escaped before I even registered what I’d thought. I snapped my teeth together before anything else horribly offensive made their way out of my mouth.

  Mr. Tattoo laughed and shoved upright from where he’d leaned on the chair, and I damn near smiled in response. I barely managed to keep my composure and meet Evershaw’s rather grim look with one of pure innocence and light. Maybe I hadn’t meant to call him an asshole right to his face. Maybe I had. Who could tell? They were just words.

  But judging by the look on the blonde dude’s face, though, he knew exactly what I’d meant. And I wasn’t likely to get the job. I’d be lucky if I walked out of the house instead of getting thrown out on my head.

  “You’d be right,” a dry voice said, and I looked up in time to see a dark-haired woman meander into the living room from the back of the house. She carried a pitcher and several glasses on a tray, and didn’t take her eyes off me as she approached. “Care for some sun tea? I live with a bunch of wolves, you see, so no one remembers their manners.”

  I rose from my seat to help her maneuver the pitcher and glasses to the coffee table, and moved my designs so they wouldn’t be ruined by the condensation. “Tea would be lovely, thank you. I’m Percy Lawson.”

  “I’m Deirdre,” she said. She poured me a glass of iced tea, poured herself one, and gave a pointed look at the two men that communicated they were on their own. Deirdre picked up Cricket with one arm, grunting with the effort, and occupied his spot on the loveseat. She didn’t seem to notice the feathers that poofed up when she sat. “Now. Where were we?”

  Mr. Tattoo piped up. “I think the architect called Evershaw an asshole, and he was trying to come up with a response.”

  “Yes,” Deirdre said. “That sounds about right. Well, Miles?”

  I froze, petrified that they’d just flat-out stated what I’d only implied – and then challenged the boss with a response. This was the weirdest fucking job interview I’d ever been on, and it hadn’t even really started.

  Chapter 4

  Dodge

  Dodge almost proposed on the spot when she muttered about Evershaw being an asshole. He damn near giggled with approval. And he ignored Evershaw’s glare. If the alpha didn’t want mockery, he wouldn’t have insisted that Dodge remain in the witch’s house. Dodge didn’t have any reason to behave himself; he wasn’t Henry, and he wasn’t trying to be.

  The poor architect, Ms. Persephone Lawson, looked embarrassed at her slip, though. Or maybe she was furious because Evershaw was deliberately being a dick to test her restraint. Well, it was possible Evershaw was testing her restraint and whether she could actually work with the pack without getting offended or running away screaming from the craziness. It was also entirely possible that Evershaw was just being himself, which trended toward dickishness even on a good day.

  Dodge kept an eye on her, though, to make sure she didn’t get too freaked out. No reason to chase her away so fast, especially when Dodge liked watching her so much. Her prickliness when the alpha asked about her name made it clear she didn’t suffer fools. Dodge figured she was the perfect habitat-making-whatever to create a safe spot for Silas to chill until he could shift back to his human form.

  Deirdre’s arrival at least guaranteed that the interview would get to the facts, instead of turning into a tete-a-tete between Evershaw and the architect. He didn’t want to call her Percy. It didn’t fit her. Didn’t fit the prim and proper academic in the buttoned-up suit and tasteful heels. Definitely didn’t fit the pearls and wrapped-up bun that he wanted to unfurl. He suddenly wanted to know how long her hair actually was, whether there was enough to wrap around his fist. Whether she’d mind a little tug in the middle of hot fucking.

  He blinked and raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

  Deirdre fixed him with a dark look and pointed at the armchair he leaned against. “If you’re going to stand there staring at Ms. Lawson, you might as well sit there and stop looming over all of us. And stop being a creep, Dodge.”

  He disliked the descriptor but figured it might have been apt, if he’d been gazing at Lawson the whole time and hadn’t noticed. The architect studiously avoided looking at him, instead pointing out things on her designs to Evershaw as the alpha pretended to pay attention. Dodge sighed and flopped into the armchair, since his wolf side wanted to stick around and hear what else proper Ms. Lawson had to say.

  The alpha’s mate carefully swept her dark hair over her shoulder and sipped her tea. “Now, Ms. Lawson. We have the lot behind and the one diagonal from the house that are available for development. The block adjacent is the garden; we won’t be doing much with that.”

  “It’s quite a garden,” the architect said. Her dark eyes flickered to Dodge and then away. “What is it you intend to put on those lots? I assumed from the call that you needed a habitat designed, but if there’s some other architectural requirement, I can point you to another specialist.”

  “We have some very specific requirements for a... habitat,” Deirdre said slowly, choosing each word with care. It was one of the things Dodge liked most about her, almost more than her ability to hand Evershaw’s ass to him on a silver platter without even really trying. The witch knew how to phrase things so she definitely told just enough of the truth so she didn’t lie, but you didn’t quite see the trap until it closed around you.

  She stirred her tea and tapped the spoon against the lip of the glass. “It’s a unique set of needs. I saw some of your work at the Municipal Zoo and thought you did a marvelous job with the orangutan enclosure.”

  Lawson’s cheeks turned pink at the compliment, and she genuinely looked surprised. “Thank you. I’m not publicly credited with that habitat, though, so I’m not sure how you discovered...”

  “My wife is very determined,” Evershaw said, and Dodge snorted. Determined. That was one word for it. The alpha gave him a dirty look before going on. “She was impressed and took the effort to research. And here you are.”

  “Yes, here you are,” Deirdre said. The way she said it sounded less like a threat and more like an observation.

  The architect looked between them, trying to gauge who was more dangerous maybe, and finally folded her hands in her lab. “Tell me more about the unique needs and what precisely you’re looking for.”

  “Wolf habitat,” Evershaw said. “He was raised around people and is habituated, so we intend to use the two empty lots for him. Obviously it must be secure, so he can’t escape.”

  Lawson’s eyebrows arched. “You want to keep a wolf in something the size of two lots? What kind of wolf is he?”

  Deirdre hesitated and Evershaw frowned, so Dodge leaned forward, elbows balanced on his knees. “Gray wolf. Big. But he’s just a teddy bear at heart.”

  He grinned, showing all his teeth, since it was the least apt description for Silas he’d ever used. He and Silas had fought their way across two continents, and neither one of them had much cuddliness about them. Not that the architect needed to know that.

  “A t-teddy bear?” Lawson looked at each of them in turn. “May I ask how you came to... own this wolf?”

  “Family friend,” Dodge said before either of the alphas could answer. He liked having the architect’s attention on him, even in brief glances and comments. It was ridiculous, of course, since the architect was unlikely to have anything to do with a bastard like him. She just seemed like a... challenge. “Silas has had a tough couple of months, so it would be nice to see him somewhere comfortable.”

  “A family friend,” she repeated, testing the words like she didn’t believe him. Well, Dodge wouldn’t
have believed him, either. “S-Silas? The wolf’s name is Silas?”

  Deirdre poured more tea and studied some of the designs that Lawson brought with her. “Mmm. Yes. Dodge has been looking after Silas for us. They’re practically best friends.”

  “Best friends,” Lawson repeated weakly. “Of course. He sounds like quite the friend.”

  Dodge didn’t know if she meant him or the wolf, but either way, he didn’t mind. Dodge leaned back in his chair and studied her, tried to memorize the way one long curl had worked loose from her demure bun and trailed against her throat.

  “Very,” Deirdre said. She handed the designs back to Lawson and tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Why don’t I show you the lots, and we can walk through what’s possible?”

  The architect cleared her throat. “The fee...”

  The witch smiled and patted Evershaw’s shoulder as she walked past, holding Lawson’s wrist to drag her along in her wake. “Miles will pay it, don’t you worry. We’re confident you’re the right habitat specialist for our project. If you agree, of course.”

  Deirdre and Lawson kept talking as they disappeared into the kitchen and out the back door, Cricket trotting along at their heels. Which left Evershaw and Dodge sitting in the living room.

  Evershaw pinched the bridge of his nose. “I get a bad feeling about this, man. She’s human. She doesn’t know anything about this shit. And why the fuck are we going to treat Silas like some animal who has to be stuck in a cage?”

  “You’re not supposed to call it a cage anymore,” Dodge muttered. He frowned at the spot on the couch that the architect had occupied. He caught a whiff of her perfume and wondered where she’d gotten it. Who’d selected it for her, maybe given it to her as a gift. Some boyfriend, maybe, or her parents as a graduation gift. He had no idea how that shit worked for girls. His First Sergeant when he joined the Marines told him he’d get his ass kicked if he wore cologne, so that was the lesson that stuck with him. “It’s a habitat. And we have to treat him that way because that’s what he is. At least for now.”

  The alpha grunted. “Fucking bullshit.”

  “Yeah. But he can’t stay in the storm cellar forever.”

  It wasn’t fair to Silas, for one, to remain in the cellar. Plus Deirdre wanted her basement back. Something about storing herbs and things from the garden, and how having a man-sized half-wolf stalking around and shitting in the corner wasn’t “a conducive environment” to whatever her magical bullshit required.

  None of Deirdre’s magic had made a difference in turning Silas back into something other than a monster, stuck between human and animal. And she hadn’t convinced the alpha that Silas was back in his right, human mind regardless of what his form looked like. It was simply too dangerous to let him go free or roam about the packhouse. His madness could have influenced some of the younger wolves, the ones with less control. In a pack full of misfits, the last thing they needed was everyone turning out-of-control.

  Which was why Dodge should have stayed at the factory, where those young and influential wolves lived. No one fucked around when Dodge was there. He didn’t have time or patience for foolishness, and all the young wolves knew it. Even Todd was too soft and cuddly compared to Dodge. The fact that Dodge had a mysterious past that they knew less about than Silas’s was even better. He could leave their imaginations to fill in the wildest, craziest shit, and he didn’t have to say a damn thing.

  The alpha put his boots up on the coffee table, which Deirdre hated, and rubbed his face. “So if we build this fucking – habitat for him, then what? We leave a monster out there to sun himself on a rock? This might not be the most active neighborhood, but someone will notice eventually.”

  “Call him a really hairy cousin.” Dodge got himself some iced tea and frowned at the windows that overlooked the front porch. The architect’s car looked like a total piece of shit death-trap. “Only let him out at night. Or try to force him back to his wolf shape. We keep pushing him to turn human again, but maybe that’s just too hard. Baby steps.”

  Evershaw scowled and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “This is going to cost a fucking fortune.”

  “You didn’t need to find the specific designer that Deirdre wanted,” Dodge told his tea, shaking his head. “I’m sure there were budget options that would have gotten the job done.”

  “Just wait until you get a mate,” the alpha muttered. “There wasn’t any other choice. What she wants, she gets.”

  “Not going to happen, man,” Dodge said. He shoved to his feet. That definitely wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with the alpha or anyone, particularly since Evershaw would make some offhand comment to Deirdre and then she’d get involved. Dodge was better off with the occasional fuck buddy to relieve stress. Better for everyone that way. No mate was in his future. It wouldn’t be fair to do that to a girl. “I’ll go check on the wolfman.”

  Evershaw waved him away, still scowling at the ceiling. Dodge left before the alpha bothered to come up with some other job for him. Checking on Silas was the only time Dodge found any peace in the damn house, since it meant cigars and whiskey. So what if it was before lunch. Silas didn’t judge. Dodge whistled as he headed for the kitchen and the outside steps to the storm cellar. Not a bad way to spend the afternoon, all things considered.

  Chapter 5

  Percy

  I still didn’t know what to make of the situation as Deirdre showed me the garden and the two lots where they envisioned a wolf habitat for their “family friend.” She seemed perfectly pleasant, which just made it more difficult to understand how she ended up with such an asshole for a husband, but it wasn’t my place to ask. Or to judge, for that matter. I was perpetually single, though I at least tried to blame that on my work, serious debt, and general standoffishness. At least, that’s what the last three boyfriends had used as their reasons for breaking things off.

  I took a few measurements of the lots and tried to sketch something in my mind, to envision what might be possible there, but paused to take a deep breath. “I’m not trying to talk myself out of a job, Mrs. Evershaw, but –“

  “Call me Deirdre,” she said, making a face. “I haven’t taken his name. He’d love it too much.”

  Which was an interesting tidbit to share with a complete stranger. But apparently they didn’t have normal social boundaries in their family. “Of course. Deirdre. I’m not trying to turn down the job by any means, but perhaps the wolf would be better off at a sanctuary. Among other wolves, with a pack... They’re social creatures.”

  “Oh, we’re aware.” Deirdre smiled tightly and started to braid her long, dark hair out of the way. “He wasn’t well-socialized, though, and seems to prefer people to other animals. We’d like to keep him close to make sure he’s adjusting well to some recent changes, then we may consider... other options.”

  It sounded rather ominous. “I can certainly check with the sanctuary where I’m currently working to see if they have room.”

  “That won’t be necessary, but it’s sweet of you to offer,” she said. Deirdre smiled faintly as she looked down and caught sight of my heels sinking into the dirt. “And look at me, making you climb all over the place in those. You look very formal. Is that typical for habitat designers?”

  “Typical for architects who get mistaken for men,” I said, and shrugged. I liked her, and that was dangerous. She was a client; I had to maintain some distance. I couldn’t afford to like them too much, not when it still wasn’t clear what they were doing with the wolf. Maybe they meant to fight him in dog fights? Turn him loose somewhere to wreak havoc? Sell him to a circus or sideshow or something? Something wasn’t right with them, with the whole situation, and it would drive me crazy until I figured it out. “I’m used to not being taken seriously, so sometimes it’s best to compensate with clothes.”

  She nodded and headed back toward the house. “I know what you’re saying. Luckily I’ve never had to wear a suit, but I can imagine it’s almost a
s good as armor in most situations. And you certainly look... professional.”

  I snorted at her hesitation, since “dowdy” was probably the first word she would have chosen. “Yeah. Thanks.”

  Deirdre laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. I tucked an errant lock of hair behind my ear; it never stayed where it was supposed to. “I can’t remember the last time I wore something that wasn’t a suit or cargo pants and polo shirts. Habitat design doesn’t require a diverse wardrobe.”

  “Then we’ll invite you for a dinner party,” she said, patting my shoulder. “So you have an excuse to diversify.”

  My chest tightened. “I didn’t mean to infer –“

  “Next week, maybe,” she said, carrying on as though I hadn’t spoken. “Anyone who calls Miles an asshole to his face deserves a spot at the table.”

  “Really, I can’t,” I said, desperate for some professional distance. “You’re clients, and –“

  Deirdre smiled brightly. “So you’ll take the job? Wonderful.”

  I blinked, since I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to take the job, not with so many questions still lingering. But she was so determined I almost felt backed into a corner, like there wasn’t any other option. I cleared my throat and finally nodded. “I’ll at least get the designs made for you. You may need to hire a contractor to deal with the fencing and construction, since I won’t be in a position to do all the manual labor, and...”

  “We have plenty of manual labor,” Deirdre said cheerfully. She linked her arm through mine and started dragging me to the back of the house. “We’ll just put Dodge to work. It would be good for him to dig a few ditches.”

  And if anyone could have dug the trenches single-handedly, it would have been Mr. Muscles and Tattoos. I cleared my throat and didn’t dare look at her as my whole face caught fire. “I’m sure it would.”