by C. D. Gorri
“I don’t care if you are a DIC!” Alyce Cooper tried for calm, but the llama shifter was clearly furious.
Sergio bristled but remained silent, pointedly ignoring the wolf sitting in the back of the room.
The door to Alyce’s office flung open, banging against the wall and echoing in the small room. Her rather harried-looking assistant came rushing in with a cell phone firmly in her hand.
“Ms. Cooper! Critter Control says they captured eight stray cats, relocated six chipmunks, and found over a dozen underground tunnels on the east side of campus. They wanted you to know this is evidence of a spermophile infestation, but this level of extreme tunneling is highly unusual.” The woman spoke at speeds the likes of which Sergio had not heard since the last time he was around his aunt and grandmother.
The two females had wonderful debates and gossip sessions at the large wooden farm table in the infamous farmhouse kitchen, where all the cooking was done for the Gravino herd. From canning plum tomatoes for future use in Sunday sauce, his favorite, to baking pies and cakes. The Gravinos sure loved their food.
“Ms. Cogdill…” The director attempted to interrupt.
Unfortunately, her assistant was oblivious, looking at her phone rather than her employer while she went on and on about the pest situation on campus.
“They recommend putting ‘keep off’ signs on several grassy knolls as they are extremely unstable because of the spermophile infestation. They want to know how humane you want to be in extraction?” The assistant stopped speaking, but her eyes were still glued to her phone.
Definitely why she wasn’t picking up on the clues her boss was giving her. At the moment, Alyce Cooper looked ready to blow. And not in a fun way.
Yikes.
As it was, he had his doubts the woman’s phone was going to make it much longer. Sergio hated the things himself. Made folks less attentive. Dangerous, especially for a shifter who relied on supernaturally enhanced observational skills to gauge his or her surroundings.
“Eliza! Not now,” the no-nonsense black llama shifter growled at her assistant between gritted teeth.
Alyce Cooper was known as a real force to be reckoned with. As an agent, she had a reputation for being a serious badass, and as the director of the Academy, she was not someone to be fucked with. Or was it FUC’d? Either way, that was one llama Sergio intended to give a wide berth.
“Oh, sorry, ma’am,” Ms. Cogdill said, almost backing out of the room before her cell phone beeped once more, “Um, what should I tell them about the knoll?”
“Tell them to put up signs for the cadets to keep off the grass until we get it worked out. Now, no more interruptions until I am finished with this PRIC.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ms. Cogdill nodded, eyes back on the tiny screen.
She should really consider blue light glasses. The kind that protected against too much screen time. His attention returned to the llama, who cleared her throat and rolled her shoulders.
“You know, I recently started a meditative breathing program you may want to look into,” he offered. “It’s called BOB. That’s short for Breathe on Bruthah. A friend from Jersey started an app a few years back, but I only began courses a few weeks ago. So far, so good.”
“That is very interesting, thanks. But back to business,” Ms. Cooper said, straightening her spine and refocusing her laser-like gaze on Sergio. “There are proper protocols for these things. Coming here under the guise of visiting your peer and co-worker was clever, but then you arrested one of our own in plain sight, blowing your cover.”
“The better question for me, ma’am, is why in a campus full of FUCs did no one spot the discrepancy in the paperwork surrounding the suspect? Why was I the first to notice it and her?”
As much as it pained him to think the gorgeous little female was a criminal, all evidence pointed to it being true. Sergio had barely kept his bull in check during the arrest. His animal was furious with his human half.
Sad moo.
“Mister, uh, Gravino, is it?”
“Hey, wait a second! Gravino?” a male voice interrupted the director, and Sergio snorted.
He’d been wondering when the wolf was going to speak up.
Grrr.
Here it comes, he thought.
His surname never failed to bring out snide remarks and accusatory glances. After all, how could one of the biggest mob families in the New York-New Jersey area have a detective in their ranks?
Sigh.
Everett Johnson of the Lone Wolf Agency had been quietly sitting at the back of the office, but Sergio had noted the other male upon entry. He did not change places, merely spoke up from his position lounging in one of the plush chairs in the back.
“Gravino? Gravino? I got it,” the man remarked, snapping his fingers. “Ain’t that the name of the biggest mobster herd on the East Coast down there in the States?”
Something about the way the wolf shifter said his name caused Sergio’s hackles to rise. As if he were purposely baiting the bull. There was a time when Sergio would have run toward a fight, horns lowered and at the ready. But he was not a mere detective anymore.
Sergio was a DIC.
Being in charge meant he was there representing his organization, and even Mrs. Leeds herself. More importantly, Sergio was there to serve the shifters under his jurisdiction. Those victims of this identity thief who had so unscrupulously used their personal information, trading on their good names for funds they were neither entitled to, nor had any intention of repaying.
They deserved to have their credit histories cleared and restored ASAP, and it was his job to do so. He would find those responsible and bring them to justice.
Even if they turned out to be adorable hedgehogs that made his bull roar.
Turning his back on the wolf, a dis if ever there was one, Sergio tried his best to ignore his snide remarks. The man was getting on his nerves, but he refused to show it.
Sure, like many Italian immigrant families on the East Coast, his family had a past. But Gravino Farms was a totally legit operation nowadays. His Grandpa Sal swore he’d ended all criminal behavior the day Sergio was born, and Sergio had confirmed it later when he became a licensed investigator.
“What’s he doing here?” Sergio addressed the director, ignoring both the wolf’s intent and his hearty chuckle. “Am I under suspicion of some crime?”
“Are you guilty of a crime?” Everett returned, baiting him further.
“Everett is visiting the Academy as a guest instructor. He is here at my request,” Director Cooper returned. “Now, why didn’t our other resident PRIC tell me you were coming?”
“That was my call, ma’am. I’d only been a DIC for a short while before I arrived here. It was better to keep it quiet.”
“And now?”
“Now I am here to run down the connection between the organization known as SCARAB, which Tony Leeds traced here last year, and the identity of the thief or thieves I’ve been hunting for months in the States. I came to investigate one such stolen identity and missing person, that of a US resident named Samantha Andrews.”
“As in our Samantha Andrews?”
“I believe so, ma’am. My Samantha Andrews, the legitimate one, left the country eighteen months ago with her grandmother and was slated to start her training here at FUCN’A. Your records indicate she has done that, but no one back home has seen or heard from her or her grandmother since the move. So, I ask you, how can she be here and nowhere else? Not on social media, not in contact with her friends. It’s pretty clear to me…”
“Mr. Gravino, I assure you our cadets are thoroughly vetted before they are accepted. Looking at her file here, there is still no reason to believe our Ms. Andrews is guilty of anything other than being a terrible student.” She mumbled the last part.
“But that’s the thing, ma’am. She isn’t Ms. Andrews. The real Ms. Andrews is a US citizen who’s been missing for over a year, and all our evidence has led me straight to your d
oor.”
“Wait, a second. Are you saying that walking disaster is a career criminal infiltrating the Academy for some evil scientist?” Everett barked a laugh.
“Why is that funny?” Sergio asked in all seriousness.
The wolf shifter took a deep breath, but it was no good. He just started chuckling all over again, and to Sergio’s shock, Alyce Cooper joined him.
“I am sorry, but I don’t follow. What is so amusing? There is evidence that this female who was working for you is at the heart of a terrible criminal organization that is responsible for the kidnapping of Julietta DiCarlo and for stealing the identities of over half a dozen shifters in the last couple of months alone. Why are you two acting like this is a joke?”
Sergio was having one hell of a time keeping his bull calm. The beast snorted when he’d finished his tirade. But what could he do?
“Sorry, man, but I guess you haven’t heard about our little wedgie hedgie?”
“What?” Sergio replied calmly.
“Tell him,” Alyce said, wiping her eyes.
“You see, it’s like this. There is no way Sammi Andrews is any kind of mastermind.”
“Are you saying she is too stupid?” For some reason the insinuation bothered Sergio.
He did not appreciate anyone calling the beautiful female anything but brilliant. He was certain she was getting a bad rap. What the heck was a “wedgie hedgie” anyway?
“Not at all. She’s smart as a whip,” the wolf conceded, and Sergio’s bull was placated for the moment. “But the girl has a reputation among the instructors here.”
“I see. Has she been victimizing other cadets by pulling their underwear or something?”
“What? No! You see, she gets all the instructors’ panties in a bunch when she enters a class. She is sort of accident-prone. Wedgie hedgie. Get it? Anyway, that little hedgehog tends to be a bit dangerous in the field. Disaster strikes whenever she is involved.” Everett was grinning like mad, but Sergio failed to see the humor.
“Take it from me, Mr. Gravino. You do not want Sammi Andrews in your custody.” Director Cooper nodded.
“Why not?” Sergio was so not amused by either of the two FUCs in the room.
“Because you could be her next victim, friend.”
“It is my belief she is guilty of at the least identity theft and, at worst, criminal conspiracy to commit kidnapping, acts of terror, and possible attempted homicide.”
“Fine,” Everett said. “You want her? Take her. A bit of friendly advice, though? I suggest you start wearing loose boxers.”
“Everett…” Ms. Cooper warned.
“What? Let him have her, Alyce. What can we do? We warned the guy.”
The discussion, and Sergio used that term loosely, lasted a few more minutes. In the end, it was decided that as Detective in Charge of the joint task force investigating SCARAB and hunting for the serial identity thief in possible corroboration with the nefarious group, Sergio would keep the female calling herself Samantha Andrews in his custody.
He left the office without ever really hearing a word. How could he possibly concentrate when she was in his custody?
The collar of his shirt seemed to grow tighter as he tried to regain control over himself in the air-conditioned hallway. All his focus was on little Red—the woman who provoked him like a matador’s flag.
That’s what he’d started calling the female from the moment he’d set eyes on her. What a shock that had been! It was like every fantasy he’d ever had about his perfect woman suddenly made real.
It didn’t matter what the magazines or Hollywood said. Sergio had always imagined himself with someone soft and curvy. Downright dainty, in fact. But his dream woman always had an edge. A sharpness that was both lethal and alluring.
How was he supposed to know that sharpness would be realized in her mane of spiky layered hair? Those inky, dark locks were fantastic. A little rock and roll and just a hint of country. Exactly what he wanted in a female.
Imagine his shock when he saw her standing in the middle of the Conflict Resolution & Situation De-escalation office at the university. Sergio’s cock had twitched in his pants at the very first glimpse.
The damn thing had almost busted free of its denim confines, but he managed to control himself. Barely.
All this time longing for a mate and there she was, as plain as the nose on his face. Truth was his bull had started snorting and stomping, demanding he get closer to the scrumptious beauty.
She wore her loose cargo pants low on her waist, and when she moved, a swath of skin peeked out from under the admittedly loud blouse she wore. However oddly, the top did nothing to detract from her bountiful curves.
I could forget the job, grab the girl, make a run for it. With any luck, she’ll be dazzled by my spontaneity. Grandpa Sal would encourage me.
His bull expelled a rush of breath, ready to do just that. Then common sense had reared its ugly and fun-sucking head.
Of course, there’s also the possibility she will shoot my fool head off. She was trained by FUC and probably works for SCARAB, after all.
15
For some reason, he’d always been attracted to women who actively tried to hide their beauty, refusing to cater to the whims of society. Or ladies who were simply unaware of their appeal and did nothing to dress it up.
He applauded their efforts, truly. But try as she might to shield her glow, she couldn’t hide the truth from Sergio. He was a bull who knew what he liked. And he always found the riches beneath the rags.
This particular diamond was rare and precious. In spite of, or maybe even because of, her terrible ensemble, the female positively sparkled. And Sergio was admittedly dazzled by her.
He wondered how her coworkers could stand it. She was just so darn bright. His bull huffed, mesmerized by the heart-shaped face. Greedily, he’d watched her as she walked through the office earlier.
Two fools had tried to block her path, probably in hoping she would notice them, but his sweet would-be-mate pushed them aside. Literally.
Happy moo.
He would’ve liked rushing them in his fur and moving them himself with his specialty headbutt or his scoop-and-throw maneuver. But she’d beaten him to the punch.
What a girl!
Her beautifully plump top lip was slightly larger than the lower. So adorable. The feature practically begged to be kissed.
I can do that.
Sergio was ready, able, and willing. More than happy to oblige. Everything about her begged him closer. Like that proverbial red flag, she teased and taunted him.
He’d moved slowly, taking one step, then another, in her direction. She’d been talking to another woman about some papers or something.
Wait. What? His bull had snorted. Red had said something about a cock, and his own had grown even harder in response.
It was a wonder he could stand up straight. His bull was on the edge. The beast had snarled and snorted.
There would be no other cocks near her! He wanted to roar the edict like some conquering king to his new domain.
Uh. Okaaaaayyyy.
At first, Sergio had not been aware of the reason why his bull had been halfway to a full-on rage. Whatever that was, he’d seriously needed to calm the fuck down.
Women had often come and gone in his life. He’d had no prospects for his happily ever after scenario, but oofa, she had changed that in an instant.
A bright and shiny red flag waving in front of his face. His future was right there for the taking.
Grrrr.
Okay, so I am more than a teeny bit enticed.
He was man enough to admit it as he moved through the corridor, thinking back to that first encounter.
His bull had been ready to bust through his skin, and that was not exactly a normal occurrence when he met a female. Yes, the whole situation warranted further evaluation after all.
The female was truly lovely. Her skin a glorious golden hue that told him she spent a lot of t
ime outdoors. A coincidence, since he himself was very fond of being outside.
Her eyes were a mischievous light brown that sparkled when she’d spoken to him. Of course, those same eyes shot into flames when she was angry. As she had been when he’d cuffed her.
Sad moo.
But what could he do? His hands were tied.
Still, his mind replayed the events. Along with her dark, choppy hair and flushed cheeks, the female had a freshly tousled look he was almost jealous of.
He hoped it was merely accidental. Otherwise, he’d have to break the lucky bastard’s hands who’d made his little Red look so deliciously rumpled.
Mine.
Okay. Call it fate then, he thought, admitting even if only to himself the woman was his. Criminal or not.
When else had he ever reacted like that? She had to be his mate. When Sergio had reached her desk, he’d closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath.
Bloody hell. That had been a mistake. Next, he’d almost doubled over from the sheer force of desire that hit him. Red’s scent was so indescribably good.
Like a clean, cool, sweet breeze that tickled his hide while he slowly walked through a grassy meadow in the late afternoon sun. Her light brown eyes had dazzled with the way she stared at him through thick lashes.
Her inviting scent had grown even stronger, and yes, he’d even picked up on the fact she was a hedgehog shifter. Unusual, but not unheard of.
Sergio was extremely open-minded about inter-species relationships. Even when the critters involved had such huge size discrepancies. For example, few could match him in sheer pound-for-pound awesomeness. But this pint-sized tidbit was turning his usually formidable Jersey bull into a damn lap dog.
Silly animal was behaving like a poodle. Belly up, tongue lolling to the side, just dying for her to pet him with those tiny, soft-looking hands of hers. Atypical to say the least.
His animal, while having approved of his human side’s healthy libido, never really sought out any attention from the opposite sex with whom Sergio had the infrequent dalliance. But thinking back at how Red had licked her lips when he’d walked over to speak to her had his inner animal bellowing like a regular bull during breeding season.
