by Holley Trent
Hank rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Think about it. It’s an underrepresented personality type in the glaring.”
“For good reason, probably.”
“Stop being such a pessimist. Look.” Sean pointed toward the rising dust down the lane. “That’s probably her now.”
And so it was. It took every ounce of self-restraint he had to not rush over to Mom’s and snatch Miles down from the truck so he could ask her, in simple terms, “What the fuck?” Instead, he stood his ground there on the porch, arms folded over his chest and tapping the toe of one boot impatiently.
Her smile waxed and waned as she approached carrying two large shopping bags. She looked at Sean, who waved, then at Hank.
“I guess you didn’t get abducted or otherwise harassed.”
She gave her head a slow shake. “I’m not sure who would be so eager to do that knowing what a hard time Edgar had of it with Ellery. I certainly wouldn’t want to pick a fight with y’all.”
“What’s in the bags?” Sean asked.
“Oh.” She set them down on the step and reached into one, pulling out several pairs of blue jeans. “There’s a branch of my bank in town. They let me withdraw some cash, and I needed some changes of clothes.” She let them fall back into the bag. “Did you eat? Your mother said something about chili.”
Hank’s turn to shake his head. “Nope. Been too distracted.”
“Demon?”
“Nope.”
Forehead furrowed, Sean leaned in and drew a long inhalation right next to her neck. “Huh.”
Hank didn’t like the sound of that huh, or of his brother being so intimate with his mate, when Hank himself didn’t even dare get that close. “What’s wrong?” he growled out.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you two did sleep in the same house last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I sure as shit can’t tell. See for yourself.”
Groaning, Hank leaned in and put his nose right against the crook of her neck.
She let out a little peep—apparently that tickled—and tried to pull away, but she couldn’t get too far with his arm around her waist.
“What the hell? She was right next to me all night, and it’s almost like she hasn’t been anywhere near me.”
“Or your stuff. She’d absorb a little of your funk through osmosis.”
Hank mouthed, “Fuck you” over the top of her head and leaned in for another whiff. Same result.
“Is there something wrong?” she asked.
“Maybe. Dunno. There’s not really a guidebook for this, just what’s passed down orally from one generation to the next.” Sean let out a breath and raked his sagging quiff out of his eyes. Hank wouldn’t be able to stand having hair in that in-between-y length. He thought his brother should either shave the shit off or grow it out. It’d drive him nuts hanging in his face all the time, but Sean seemed to enjoy playing with it. Had an entire countertop filled with gels and pomades he used whenever he wasn’t going to be wearing a hat.
“We’re talking about the same thing as when people in the glaring say Ellery smells like a Foye, right?”
“Yeah.” Hank leaned against the column and rubbed his chin. He looked to Sean. “Could it be contamination and we’re just not able to smell it through the other essences she might have encountered today?”
“If that were the case, those distinctive Foye notes would still be there after she showered.”
“I’m eager to see how this experiment turns out.” Sean leaned against a column, too, and watched Miles with far too much interest.
Hank rolled his eyes again. “Why don’t you go home and let your woman out of your dungeon? Feed her dinner while you’re at it.”
“You locked her up again?” Miles asked. Her high coloring seemed to blanch all at once.
Sean shrugged. “Didn’t really see where I had a choice. She can’t be left unattended for longer than a minute. She’s like a toddler, but one with murderous intent and a malevolent leer. I told her I’d let her out when she was ready to have a grown-up conversation, and I could barely jump back in time before she tried to slice my face with a shiv she made out of—get this—a mattress spring and a toothbrush handle. But don’t worry.” He gave Miles a little pat on the shoulder. “My basement is finished. She has pretty much everything she needs down there—except my body roasting on a spit and a way for her to get out.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You do understand that to outsiders, this would be a very creepy situation.”
“After a while, all the weird becomes normal, and it’s the normal folks you need to worry about.” He waggled his eyebrows and started around the path to Mom’s. “I’ll try to save you some chili, but don’t take too long. I might decide the leftovers would look nice in my refrigerator.”
She watched him until there was nothing left of him to see, then bent to pick up her bags. She walked past Hank with them, saying nothing, and let the screen door slam behind her when she entered the house.
No apology? No explanation for her long absence?
“Hey, Miles?” He followed her up the stairs and found her kneeling on the rug in his bedroom pulling tags from her new garments.
“Do you mind if I use a couple of these drawers?”
“What?”
“Don’t worry about it if you can’t make space. I can probably stash some things in one of the closets.”
“No.” He crouched next to her and closed his eyes. His brain was all fogged up, and he couldn’t think straight. He rubbed his temples until the murk cleared, at least partway. “I mean, there’s plenty of space. There’s nothing in the bottom drawers, and I’ll move some things around if you need more than that. I’m just wondering what you’ve been doing all afternoon.” There. That didn’t sound completely accusatory.
“Oh.” She stopped pulling tags. “This and that. I watched Katrine Delacroix’s kids for a couple of hours when she went out for an interview, and then her mother had me explain some things about a prescription she’s taking because she was too ashamed to ask the pharmacist, and…let’s see, what else…” She pulled her lush bottom lip between her teeth, scratched a bandage at the inside of her elbow, and looked up at the ceiling.
The cougar in him perked up and thought Hank should observe her lips a little closer. He resisted.
She snapped her fingers. “Ah, from there, I ended up outside the diner dispensing illegal medical advice for about an hour before I went shopping.” She went back to pulling tags.
He waited for the just kidding. It didn’t come. “How many people did you encounter today?”
She crawled toward the dresser, pushing the pile of clothes along with her as she went. “I don’t know. Most I had seen before, though. Cougars who had been out here for meetings or to help out with this or that.”
“Anything else to report?”
She lingered there on hands and knees in front of the dresser, looking so fucking enticing with her ass presented to him like it was. He wanted to grab her by the hips and yank her back—show her what happened when she teased a lustful Cougar. She had to know what she was doing, teasing him like that, showing off those perfect swells in such a brazen, in-your-face manner.
His hands were en route to her waist when she finally responded. “No.”
He pulled his hands back to his sides and watched her stack clothing into the bottom drawer. He had to admit he liked seeing her do it, putting her mark on something in his house, even if she had only agreed to stay as a favor to him. “Are you sure?” He suddenly had a very good idea of why cats in the wild pounced.
She sank back onto her heels and folded her hands atop her lap. “I’m sure.”
“You positive? Seems like you had to think about it.”
“Nothing for you to worry about. It’s just…you Foyes seem to have a reputation.”
Aw, hell. Depending on whom she’d talked to,
there could have been any number of reputations. He might have been stupid in a lot of ways, but he knew better than to make assumptions. “Reputations are usually well-earned, but not always. What are folks saying?”
She turned her head slightly and looked at him out the corner of her eye. “That you and Sean have left quite the trail of broken hearts in your wake.”
Gods. He let out a breath and pushed to standing. “If Cougars told you that, they should have known why we didn’t get attached.”
“You make it sound like it’s so easy not to.” She stood, too, and bent to pick up the second bag. “People get attached. That’s human nature, and you can’t fault them for having hoped for something more.”
“Cougar men hold out for fated mates.”
“But not everyone has one, and your men more often than not take brides from outside the glaring. Some folks have to be more practical. They’re happy to settle with what they think is good enough for them, and they’re not going to wait around for magic that may never come.”
He didn’t immediately realize he was being scolded. He was so used to it being delivered with a raised voice or a wagging finger, and Miles’s way somehow seemed worse. He hadn’t thought he’d been all that promiscuous, but…maybe perceptions were reality. Cats weren’t known for their chastity.
She set the bag on top of the dresser and stuffed her hands into her pants pockets. “So, dinner?”
“Yeah, sure. Going to have to grab it to go, though. I’m supposed to be on demon watch tonight, so I’ll probably eat in my truck.”
“Fine.” She left. She was halfway down the stairs when he realized she’d hurt his feelings. He was so used to women volunteering to keep him company, and she’d just walked away.
He gave his hair a tug and twined it into a messy knot before following her. Use your words, Hank, Mom would say. If he expected anything from her, probably the best way to go about getting it would be to actually tell her what it was he wanted.
But what did he want? He couldn’t even be sure.
CHAPTER NINE
Miles deleted the last of the unimportant e-mails from her phone and let out a relieved sigh that the ones that needed follow-up weren’t too onerous. Having fallen off the grid for a month, she’d worried they’d be much worse. There were a few panicky e-mails from peers at the hospital and her immediate neighbors at her apartment complex, but they had all been sent before Ellery had handled business for Miles during her last trip east. She was helping her brother-in-law rouse a comatose fallen angel, and seeing as how that particular angel could potentially close the hellmouth, Mason was more than willing to loan her to the cause.
Miles imagined that Hannah’s in-box wouldn’t be so tidy. She’d have more people worrying about her, looking for her. Miles didn’t know everything Ellery had done to smooth things over in that regard, but Miles knew for a fact that Hannah had been raised by a family of aggressive skeptics. Whatever lies Ellery had told them, no matter how smoothly, they probably didn’t believe them.
Hank shifted in the driver’s seat of his truck and drew Miles’s gaze leftward. “Everything all right?” He pointed to the phone. He’d given it back, saying he saw no reason to keep it from her. He’d given her wallet back, too. That’d make it easier for her to move funds around. Off the top of her head, she could think of at least two Cougar families who could do with anonymous windfalls, and that was just from an afternoon of fact-finding. With a bit of planning and some help from insiders, she could do so much more. The idea warmed her insides almost as much as being in the vicinity of a certain green-eyed statue.
He wasn’t charming, and he certainly wasn’t sweet, but damn if he wasn’t captivating. If she didn’t have to make eye contact with him, she’d never stop staring.
“Um. Nothing pressing,” she said. “A few bills to pay, and I need to figure out what to do about my lease. It’s supposed to renew in forty-five days and there’s a waiting list for my apartment’s particular floor plan.”
“Hmm.” He twirled his chili spoon between his fingers and shifted a little lower in his seat. He hadn’t talked much in the hour they’d been in the truck, and she wondered why he’d invited her out to it in the first place. If a demon popped up, there wasn’t anything she could do besides sound the alarm, and he had certainly done that enough times on his own that he didn’t need her. So far, the experience was just a whole lot of silent eating and Miles hitting the Delete button on her phone. Maybe the situation only seemed awkward because she was imagining it was.
She reached down and picked up her bottled water. She stared out into the dark desert, sipping. He had the headlights off, saying he didn’t need them. If anything came out of the hellmouth, it’d have a shimmer or glow to it, so the illumination wasn’t necessary. Also, he’d be able to sense it as it approached. Apparently Were-cougars were sensitive to ghosts and spirits.
“Oh.” Hank stuck his spoon into his thermos and set the entire kit and caboodle into the console cup holder. He wiped his hands on his jeans and pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket. “What’s your phone number? I probably should have it.”
She let out a choked laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just get the impression you’re usually a little more suave about asking a woman for her phone number.” Or maybe not. Some women probably gave it up freely with just a stare from him.
“I could sweet-talk you if you want, but I think it’d just embarrass you, and me, too, since you have to wake up tomorrow looking at me.”
“That bad, huh?”
He grunted. “Nah. I’m pretty good, but considering you already think I’m some kind of trampy tomcat, I won’t give you any ideas of what I may or may not have whispered into other women’s ears.”
“What if I’m curious?”
He pulled his gaze up from his phone screen and raised an eyebrow. “If you’re curious, I might oblige you. Might make you angry, though.”
“Why would I be angry?”
He shrugged. “Hell, maybe you won’t be. You’re not a Cougar so you don’t have Cougar jealousy issues.”
“What would I be jealous of, exactly? Do Cougars have open relationships?”
“Hell no.”
She was surprised by his indignant tone. She would have thought a man would jump at the chance to get his sexual fix wherever the mood struck, especially when he had a mate he didn’t exactly want.
“Cougars aren’t great at sharing, so don’t even ask.”
“I hadn’t planned to.”
“Good.”
Okay, then. Way to divert from the issue at hand. She fiddled with the cap of her water bottle and looked back at the cluster of houses. Lights-out at Mason’s. They’d probably put Nick down for bed right after dinner. Glenda’s porch light and bedroom lights shone in the distance. Sean looked like he had every single one of his lights on, including the basement. Was he down there arguing with Hannah again? Trying to make her see reason?
Maybe Miles and Ellery should try to talk to her again—convince her that the situation wasn’t that bad—but Hannah hated conceding to arrangements she hadn’t been the one to initiate. She always had to feel like something was her idea before she’d show any enthusiasm about it.
Miles settled a little lower in her seat, pondering that. How could they make her feel like it was her idea when the ladies had very clearly been abducted?
“Hank?”
“Hmm?” He turned in his seat to put his back against the driver’s door. His eyes were stunning in daylight, but in the moonlight, they were positively enthralling. Hard to look away from, and an evident clue of just how dangerous he was. There was nothing safe or gentle about big cats. Their beauty was a trap that lured people in closer to make it all the easier for them to close their jaws around them, and she’d…she’d practically thrown herself at him like a virgin maiden groomed for sacrifice from birth. He leaned in, cupped her chin, and tipped her face to his. “Your adrenaline is s
piking. I can smell it. What’s wrong?”
His pupils bled into perfect circles, dark moons overtaking the vivid green. Hypnotizing orbs, so easy to fall into…
“Miles?”
She drew in a long inhalation as he dragged his thumb across her parted lips, still staring, frozen in that terrified stupor. He was a predator, pure and simple. The question was, was she prey?
“Miles,” he whispered. His thumb made a gentle circuit around her mouth. “What do you feel like you need to run from right now, huh? I’m not going to eat you.” His thumb stopped, and his lips curved ever so slightly—all a statue could manage. “Unless you want me to.”
That woke her up. She put her hands over her burning face and groaned. Damn. What was that? She was supposed to be asking him about something…about…
She dropped her hands and looked at him. “Tell me the whole story.”
“What story?”
“About why Cougars steal mates. Tell me the whole thing. I need to know how to explain it to Hannah in a way she’ll understand.”
“Shit. Well, I’ll tell you the story the way I’ve always heard it. There have probably been some things lost in the oral history by now, and it’s not like we can ask La Bella Dama directly. She’s not one to make herself known, like Agatha.”
“Go ahead, please.”
He rubbed his eyes and settled lower in the driver’s seat. “All right. Story goes that La Bella Dama created the Were-cougar race in Central America following a tiff with her longtime human lover. Toward the end of their relationship, he treated her like an animal, disregarding her wants and needs and speaking abusively to her. He always put her second, and took for granted that she’d always be around because they had a child together.”
“Interesting.”
“Yeah, well, that child has a lot of mythology swirling around him, too, though none of it is relevant for the story at hand. So, La Bella Dama was known to be a fair, generous goddess, and this guy was humiliating her. Her embarrassment didn’t just stay confined to his village because word spread. People started looking down on her, treating her as little more than an afterthought in the pantheon. She was just the pretty lady who sometimes appeared in the form of her favorite animal to give blessings when children were born.”
