by Chloe Cole
“I saw the knot on your head, but this too? That son of a bitch.”
His low voice was pleasant enough, as if he was discussing the weather, but the fierceness of his expression—the tensed jaw, the fire in his eyes—was enough to take her breath away.
Sweet Etienne was furious at the men who hurt her.
A riot of emotions coursed through her and she resisted the urge to smooth the tension from his face.
He’s not yours to touch, silly girl.
She shrugged, forcing a short laugh. “It’s an ugly bruise to be sure, but at least it’s not like he cocked up the Mona Lisa or anything.”
If anything, her attempt to lighten the mood only made him look more fierce. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Her cheeks burned as she shifted from foot to foot. “Like, I’m not exactly model material, so walking around with a fugly bruise for a couple weeks isn’t exactly going to ruin my social life.”
He cocked his head to the side and took a step closer, staring into her eyes so deeply, she felt like she was drowning in his. “I do not like to hear this from you, cher. Your skin is perfect. Smooth and soft, like a peach. Seeing what he did to you makes me want to slit him from back to belly and split him open like a chicken.”
He stroked her chin again and slid his hand up to cup her cheek gently. Her pulse clamored wildly and it took all her strength not to leap up at him like a lion on a gazelle and mash her body against his.
Instead, she sucked in a shuddering breath and took a step back. If she could get through the rest of the morning without humiliating herself by picking up signals he wasn’t actually putting down, she’d reward herself with a hot fudge sundae later.
“W-we should go out and talk to the detectives.”
His eyes grew hooded and he nodded slowly. “Yes, of course. You get the coffee, I’ll get them settled and go over your notes with them while we wait.”
He turned and headed back through the kitchen door, and she watched him as he went, pulse skittering. He was wearing a black windbreaker in deference to the chilly day, and his worn jeans fit him like a glove, clinging to his delectable bottom with each step.
Once he was out of view, she slumped against the countertop with a groan. She’d gotten attacked last night, and catching the perpetrators needed to be numero uno on her list of priorities. Way higher up on the list than lusting after a man who wouldn’t have given her the time of day in the real world.
Focus, Taya.
She made quick work of the coffee, and piled a tray high with the mugs along with a bowl of fruit salad she’d made the day before. She set down the refreshments on the coffee table for her guests before excusing herself for a moment and heading for the stairs. Not that she needed to impress anyone, but she could at least change into clothes and put her contacts in so she could see everyone clearly.
Especially Etienne.
She shoved the thought away and donned a pair of jeans and a slouchy sweater that hung off one shoulder, just a little. Then, she made her way to the bathroom to freshen up.
It took five minutes in total, but judging by the look on Etienne’s face, it had been worth it. He was telling the officers what he’d seen, but he stopped, mid-sentence as she stepped into the room. His eyes seemed to warm as they traveled over her, his gaze lingering on the line of her collarbone before locking with hers.
He cleared his throat and gestured for her to come in and sit.
“Taya, I was just telling Officer Blackbourne here—”
“Detective,” the dark-haired man interjected smoothly.
“I was just telling Detective Blackbourne,” Etienne corrected with a quick, frown in Blackbourne’s direction, “here that you got a really good look at the first attacker.”
“Yes, I did.” A low meow had her turning her attention toward the French doors that led to the patio and she saw one of her cats, Abel, standing outside the door, eyeing her with a haughty, impatient stare.
“I’m just going to let him in quick,” she said, and stood to cross the room and open the door. “Hello, pumpkin.” She bent low to stroke the calico’s arched back, when suddenly he tensed and let out a long, warbling rawr.
“Abel?” she murmured, caressing the feline softly. “What’s the matter, pal?”
Detective Blackbourne stood and offered her a tight smile. “Maybe it’s just all the new people in the house at once. Some animals have a hard time with strangers.”
“Odd, because he never has before.”
Then again, it was par for the course. It had been a week of firsts for her, all of them weird.
The cat began to bat at the door with one paw until she opened it again and he tore out of the house like his ass was on fire. Taya stared after him, bewildered.
“Okay if we can continue on?” Officer Stone called from her seat on one of the armchairs.
Taya closed the door with a click and made a mental note to give Abel a thorough once over when he came back in again. Maybe he had gotten injured outdoors and she’d touched a sore spot.
She made her way back to the sofa and retook her seat.
“Sorry about that. Where were we?”
“You were going to start giving us a description of the man you saw more clearly,” the other woman prompted with a gentle smile.
Taya closed her eyes and waited for the face that had haunted her nightmares to resurface. It only took a moment, and her hands went instantly clammy. Her agitation must have shown, because a second later, Etienne’s hand closed over hers and gave a gentle squeeze.
“You’re okay, cher. Go ahead, tell them what you saw.”
For the next ten minutes, she talked, reciting every detail she recalled. Every so often, Officer Stone would interrupt and ask her to clarify as she sketched away. At the same time, Blackbourne was busy jotting down her statement, and the competence and easy camaraderie between them set her at ease.
“And how tall would you say he was?” Officer Stone asked, narrowing her eyes on the piece of paper in front of her before licking the tip of her pencil and diving back in.
By the time Taya finally emptied her brain, she was feeling a little lighter for having shared the burden, but another memory kept coming up no matter how much she tried to shove it down. One instant that had been seared into her brain that she still couldn’t quite get her head around.
“Um, there is one more thing.” She wet her lips and flicked a nervous glance at each of the three expectant faces before gnawing on the side of her cheek for a long moment.
Telling the truth was going to help them find these guys. She owed it to every woman out there not to hold anything back. She sent an apologetic smile in Etienne’s direction before she let it rip.
“I think he…um…may have had...like, fangs?”
The whole room seemed to gape at her at once. For a second, no one said anything, but then Officer Stone seemed to compose herself.
“So you mean like he had oversized incisors?” She offered Taya an encouraging smile, almost as if compelling her to take the out she was offering, but Taya straightened her back, and lifted her chin, determined to see it through.
“No. Not like that. Like actual fangs.” She was relieved to find her voice sounded strong and confident, but it wasn’t easy under the weight of two dubious stares and one—Etienne’s—that could only be described as extremely concerned.
What if he thought she was crazy?
And what if this is the one detail they needed to catch these guys and you kept it to yourself, her conscience snapped back indignantly.
The detective’s gaze flicked over to her entertainment center, which was teeming with DVD’s. Most visible? Nightmare on Elm Street. Werewolf in London. Bella Lugosi’s Dracula. In fact, now that she looked at it, she realized that, to a stranger, it might seem like she was obsessed with horror movies.
When the detective finally met her gaze again, it was hard not to squirm.
“Fangs like Nosferatu
, Ms. Briarcroft?”
To his credit, his tone was gentle enough, but there was no mistaking his meaning and she could feel her cheeks turning crimson.
“More like an animal…look, Detective, I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m some weird little crackpot with an overactive imagination, but—”
“I don’t think that at all, miss.” He closed his little notebook with a snap before leaning forward. “What I think is that you are a very tough, very brave woman who survived a terrifying and brutal assault. It was night time, you were understandably distraught. I think you’re a strong witness and you gave us some great details, but in stressful situations, this can happen. We see things differently and our fear gets the better of us. These men were monsters, no question. And maybe your brain assigned them some extra monstrous qualities to make it easier to swallow that men can be so cruel.”
Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she looked away, too overwhelmed to argue. He didn’t believe her. Etienne probably didn’t either.
“Or,” Etienne said, rising to stand and folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe he was one of those people obsessed with vampires and had some body modification done. Like a goth. Filed his teeth down, had strange contacts in. She said his eyes were glowing in a weird way. That’s a possibility too, isn’t it Detective?”
Blackbourne’s jaw flexed as he eyed Etienne with something close to annoyance. “It’s a possibility, sure,” he admitted before clearing his throat. “But let’s try to stay on the same page here if we can, and focus on the things we’re sure of, yeah?”
Taya nodded, and sent Etienne a small, grateful smile. He’d swooped in and saved her again, in a way. Standing by her side and supporting her when she needed it most. She made a mental note to thank him again before he left, and wondered if she shouldn’t get his address so she could send him brownies or something.
A semi-hysterical laugh bubbled to her lips and she choked it back.
“Here are some chocolaty treats as a thank you for saving my life and for believing me that one of my attackers was possibly a saber-toothed tiger or a vampire.”
Seemed like a fair enough trade.
The rest of the room seemed blissfully oblivious to her little internal crack up and she sucked in a steadying breath before rejoining the conversation.
“Maybe we can add the fangs after Officer Stone is finished with her drawing and see if it resonates with either Etienne or I? We can always erase them, right?”
“Sure, sure,” Officer Stone said with a nod. “I’m almost done here and I can definitely do that, let me just…” She trailed off, tongue perched on her upper lip, brow furrowed in concentration, and her drawing hand flying now as she worked. They all watched in silence for a moment until she finally looked up with a satisfied nod. “Okay, people. I think we’ve got him.”
She held up the sketch with a flourish. Taya closed her eyes for a moment, hoping against hope that she didn’t fall apart when she faced her attacker again. Even a two-dimensional rendering would no doubt take its toll on her mentally, and she centered herself to prepare for the blow.
She opened her eyes and gasped as a thousand thoughts ran through her head at once. She barely heard Detective Blackbourne’s muttered curse.
“Jesus Christ.”
Chapter Five
The sound of a pin dropping would’ve rang through the room like a gunshot, as the three of them stared at Willa’s drawing. Because Drake was dead right.
They were looking at a drawing of Jesus Christ.
With fangs.
Etienne tapped his fingers restlessly on his thigh and tried to think of what he could possibly say to diffuse the situation as he shot eye daggers at a defensive-looking Willa.
He cleared his throat and nodded thoughtfully, still studying the sketch as if he was an art critic. “Interesting. Well, you got some of it right. The long hair, the nose is dead on, but the eyes are off.” He barely managed to keep from adding, “And you forgot the crown of thorns.”
Drake exercised no such restraint, though. “Did you happen to witness him turn any water into wine, Ms. Briarcroft?”
Willa’s hand snapped out so fast, it was probably imperceptible to the human eye, but the sound of her slapping Drake right in the forehead definitely wasn’t, and Taya turned her puzzled gaze from the picture to the Laurel and Hardy routine going on next to it.
“I’m sorry…I’m just…I’d hoped for a closer likeness, and…”
Etienne could hear the break in her disappointed voice and it sent a hot bolt of rage through him. She’d cried too many tears over these cocksuckers, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her crying more. Especially because it was his fault she was dealing with these two clowns in the first place. There had to be something he could do to make her feel better.
“Please, Ms. Briarcroft,” Willa said, clearly distraught. “Let me get back to the station, get access to my cray-pas and whatnot, re-read the notes, do some fine detailing.” She set the picture aside and reached out to pat Taya’s hand gently. “I think you’ll be surprised by the final result. This is all preliminary, just getting face shape down and the like. If it’s not right, we’ll sit you down with my supervisor and do it again off Detective Blackbourne’s notes and you can come in for some fine-tuning. I promise, we won’t rest until we have a very strong likeness of the assailant, all right?”
Etienne watched Taya’s reaction closely, and the knot in his stomach unfurled as she looked in his direction, seeming a little more at ease than she had a moment ago. “What do you think?”
Etienne glared at Willa once last time, before turning to Taya and lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “I think we should give her the benefit of the doubt and see how it turns out when it’s complete. In the interim, let the APB description and the patrolmen do their job and try to locate these guys. Their size alone should make them easier to find, if they’re still in the area.”
He tamped down the prickle of guilt, but it wasn’t easy. Each lie created two more and he hated being untruthful. She didn’t deserve it, but the only way he could really protect her was to handle this his way. Shifters didn’t do jail. These rabid dogs needed to be put down for good.
Drake took the reins, and began to pepper Taya with some more questions that seemed to work well enough as a continued diversion, and by the time they wrapped up, she seemed to be holding together like a champ.
“Thank you again for coming out, I really appreciate it,” she said, leading them to the door.
“Thank you, Miss Briarcroft. And please, if you have any questions, just call me direct at this number,” Drake said as he jotted on a piece of notebook paper and tore it off.
She stood by the door and took the sheet before waving to them as they exited.
Etienne stayed put as his friends headed down the driveway, knowing he should be right behind them, but something compelling him to stay put.
He turned to her and she gave him a shy smile that didn’t quite reach her wary eyes.
“I’m sure you probably have a life to get back to as well,” she murmured, toying with the doorknob.
“Actually, I don’t,” he found himself replying.
Where the hell had that come from? Hadn’t he already decided that getting more involved with her would only complicate things further? From the second they’d met, he’d done nothing but lie. And still…as he looked into her pretty face, the flow of words wouldn’t be stopped.
“Would you like to go out to eat with me?”
She gazed up at him, her apparent surprise making her mouth into a sexy little “o”.
“Um…like tonight?”
He nodded, his hands itching to reach out and swipe back the thick lock of chestnut hair that had fallen forward to cover one eye.
“Yes. Now, in fact,” he said with a curt nod. “I’m starving and you’ve probably been too distraught to think about a proper meal. Come on, it will be good to get your mind off things for a while.”
She lit up at the idea of it but then blew out a long sigh and shrugged. “I feel like you’ve already wasted so much of your weekend on this whole mess. Surely you have better things to do than spend your afternoon babysitting me.”
She’d offered him an out. An easy get out of jail free card, and he should take it. Get back up the mountain, talk over strategy with Drake and Willa and get the ball rolling.
Then again, he always did hunt best at night and the odds of finding the men who hurt Taya in broad daylight were slim. Waiting until Willa got the perps descriptions out to her packmates and was able to do some sniffing around was probably best in any case. Flying blind was no better than not flying at all.
Plus, as tough as Taya had been through this whole thing—and he had to admit, she’d been plenty tough—he could see in her face that she was starting to fray at the edges. A break from the intensity of this all could only benefit her.
He looked down into her hopeful face and a surge of need so strong that it made his muscles quiver blasted through him.
Who was he kidding? This was as much about him as it was about her. He just didn’t want to leave her. Not yet.
The urge to pull her into the circle of his arms swamped him, but he tamped it down fast. Lunch or no lunch, he wasn’t in the market for a new pet, especially one of the garden human variety, and he certainly didn’t have time to play long-term friend and hero to this damsel in distress. He already had what Drake sardonically referred to as a harem, and was knee deep in running a commodities empire. Not to mention he and Drake had been working hard at solidifying the dragon shifter presence in Montana.
No, once he took care of Taya’s vermin problem and made sure she was safe, he needed to move on. There was no point in making that harder than it needed to be. Especially on her. She’d suffered enough.
But maybe one friendly meal wouldn’t hurt…
He’d make sure he didn’t mislead her, and use the time to comfort her and give her confidence that the men who had attacked her would face justice.
