Fetching Analia

by Jory Strong

Gaige’s smile widened. Crew snorted a laugh.

  They moved to the dance floor, but where Kellen had welcomed the DJs transition from fast song to slow one when he was with Analia, this time he swallowed a snarl, only barely managing to tolerate the brunette’s quick invasion of his personal space—and only then because of Crew and Gaige’s presence.

  She mashed full, silicone-enhanced breasts against his chest and ground her pussy against the front of his jeans. His cock twitched, but only because his thoughts flashed, guiltily, to Analia.

  He suppressed another snarl. He had no reason to feel guilty! He’d saved them both from disaster by walking away from her after they’d danced!

  The brunette’s aroused scent filled his nostrils, but rather than being lush and intoxicating, a scent that hardened his cock and made him want to kiss his way down from her lips to her pussy, as Analia’s scent did, the scent of the brunette’s desire might as well have been a repellent.

  He could take her, if he wanted her. He refused to believe otherwise—that his cock wouldn’t harden.

  It wasn’t worth the effort. That’s all.

  Her lips touched his neck then kissed their way to his ear and he hardened, thinking about how he’d done the same to Analia, about the silky feel of her skin, her taste, the way she’d softened in his arms as if she belonged there.

  The brunette’s tongue thrust into his ear, snapping him back to the present and reflexively sending his head jerking backward, away from the unwanted invasion.

  From behind him he heard Gaige’s laughter. And for the first time in his life, Kellen wished a mate on other beings. If Taine’s stumbling upon Saffron was in fact the beginning of them all encountering potential mates, then he hoped Gaige, or Crew, stumbled across his next.

  The brunette was now pouty-lipped, though Kellen’s reaction hadn’t driven her from his arms. Not even halfway through the song and he was ready to leave the dance floor. In fact, he was ready to leave the club altogether.

  He could go home. Alone. Though he’d be better served by going to IRE headquarters. Given the human obsession with loading pictures onto the internet, he’d rather tell Maksim about coming to the defense of the homeless man before it was brought to Maksim’s attention by someone else.

  Kellen’s hands dropped from their automatic, barely-there hold at the brunette’s waist. He turned and walked away from her with the slow song still playing, dismissing her from his thoughts.

  The action, similar but vastly different because of the reasons behind it, to what had happened with Analia, brought a return of guilt. And with guilt came the worry that Analia, like the homeless man, could also be attacked.

  True, this was a relatively safe area, but… It was easy to imagine another man, other men, emboldened by alcohol and seeing her, wanting her, taking her.

  Not happening. No way could he let her walk the beach alone.

  It was possible she’d already returned to her car and gone home. He hoped she had. It would be easy enough for him to track her and confirm her safety.

  He heard Crew say to Gaige, after evoking the magic that made the conversation private to supernatural beings, “Second time he’s done that tonight, walk away from a very willing woman.”

  “But the first time he was running away from a human female,” Gaige replied. “This time I’m betting he’s running toward a human female.”

  Kellen resisted the urge to turn and snarl a denial. Analia was Saffron’s friend. It could easily be argued that he was doing this for the sake of Taine’s mate. And if that wasn’t reason enough, then he could argue he was doing it for his own sake, to minimize the guilt he felt. It was his actions that had sent her fleeing the club.

  She was out there, alone, undefended. If she got hurt, because he’d asked her to dance, kissed her then walked away…

  Intolerable.

  He cursed himself for yielding to temptation to begin with. He’d known, on some level, that she was a weakness he couldn’t afford, otherwise her scent wouldn’t have continued lingering in his memory days after the All Things Supernatural Fair.

  It was just bad luck that Deidra had shown up tonight. It was worse luck that Analia had also been at Stones.

  His heart twinged, though he heated at remembering the feel of Analia in his arms, the press of her body against his, the press of soft lips to his, the rub and slide of her tongue against his, the sounds of her pleasure and how his own pleasure intensified as he swallowed those sounds down.

  Yet somehow she’d thought, when he walked away, that he’d found her unworthy of pursuit, undesirable!

  His cock throbbed against the front of his jeans. It demanded the opportunity to prove to her just how wrong she was. When he reached her—

  The intensity of his desire slowed steps he realized had become fast and urgent, some instinct driving him forward, compelling him to reach her as if time was of the essence.

  What the fuck?

  Was he totally out of control now?

  He should turn and run in the opposite direction.

  But that was his brain talking and it was completely overruled by cock and conscience.

  If she hadn’t already left the beach, he’d see her safely back to her car and be done with her. Period.

  Still, he slowed further, accepting he couldn’t go to her in human form. That would only make the situation worse.

  In human form—

  No, he couldn’t trust himself.

  He’d end up ensnared, entangled.

  Mated.

  He shuddered. No way could he open himself to another woman that deeply. Ultimately, all that would come of it was pain and betrayal.

  When he’d gained enough magic to heal his withered forearm, he’d suddenly become a beloved son. His sire and damn had made a big show of acknowledging their spare heir.

  Female hounds sought him out. They lobbied for the chance to be presented to him as a possible mate. He’d easily resisted, until Cosette, and then he’d done the inconceivably stupid—he’d trusted, he’d listened to his heart, he’d fallen in love.

  He shuddered again, though this time it was like a hound shaking off clinging debris. The past was behind him and he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes.

  Locating a camera-free spot out of human view, Kellen shifted form and loped to the boardwalk bench where Analia had been sitting. It was occupied by teens with their lips locked and their hands freely roaming.

  Analia’s scent remained in the air, easily trackable. He padded along the boardwalk, her scent growing stronger with each of his steps.

  The longer he followed her, the more he noticed another scent, one that had the hair along his ruff lifting. It belonged to a human male and held sweaty anticipation along with the stink of skin soured by drugs.

  He didn’t like the fact that the man was behind Analia, possibly following her at a distance. The easy lope Kellen had been maintaining kicked into a gallop.

  Out of the corner of his eye, a police car’s lights went on and began flashing red and blue. The vehicle sped up and tried to pace him but was hindered by traffic.

  Both Analia and her pursuer’s scent grew stronger. In the distance, coming toward him, another patrol car’s lights flashed blue and red—then disappeared from his thoughts when a group of teens holding boogie boards moved off the boardwalk and into a crosswalk, giving a clear view of Analia just as she was rushed from behind by a burly, tattooed man.

  Kellen growled and barked, silently cursed when his barking had Analia stopping and turning to look back at him.

  She had time for a little shriek before her assailant hit, lifting her, plowing down the stairs and onto the beach.

  Kellen knew a heartbeat of pure panic. He leapt up and over the railing.

  Police sirens screamed to life.

  Kellen landed on the sand.

  Analia’s assailant was jerking her purse strap off her shoulder. Mugger, Kellen thought, not a rapist.

  But it didn’t slow him. He covere
d the sand in bounding leaps, gaining momentum and speed until a final leap knocked Analia’s burly assailant away from her and onto the sand.

  Despite the man’s bulk, he managed to twist and land on his back, arms up and keeping Kellen from reaching his throat.

  Kellen snarled and snapped, fought against the resistance, his teeth slowly getting closer and closer to the man’s neck.

  Analia scrambled to her feet, her heart trying to claw its way up her throat. “Don’t shoot him!” she screamed, seeing the two policemen, guns drawn, waiting for a clear shot at the Irish Wolfhound who’d apparently returned to the bench and then come looking for her.

  The dog continued to lunge, each movement bringing glistening canine teeth closer to the throat of the man who’d tried to steal her purse.

  “Easy boy,” she said, willing the dog to hear her as she edged closer, trying to keep herself between her canine savior and the policemen.

  They didn’t look trigger happy… But adrenaline was responsible for a lot of deaths when it came to guns.

  When she got close enough, she looped the purse strap over the Wolfhound’s neck. “Come on, boy,” she pleaded. “The police are here now, they can take the bad guy away.”

  A male voice blared out of a shoulder microphone one of the cops was wearing. There was a back and forth between the voice and the policeman. It was mostly numbers that were probably codes and times.

  Analia applied pressure to the purse strap, knew her own tension was running down the makeshift leash and into the dog as the older of the two policemen, a stern-faced, gray-mustached officer arrived, gun still drawn.

  “Come on, boy,” she pleaded. “Let him go now. Be a good boy.”

  A small bubble of laughter, her own tell of high emotion, moved up her throat with the thought that she didn’t actually know if the dog was a boy. She hadn’t checked out his equipment. She’d just assumed, because of his size that he was a he.

  Thankfully the dog yielded, allowing himself to be guided backward though his focus remained on the man he’d taken to the sand and he continued to snarl, warning the mugger against any attempt to escape.

  The older cop shifted his attention between mugger and dog. He ordered her assailant onto his stomach then hurriedly cuffed him.

  Analia crouched and put an arm around the dog’s shoulder, stroked his broad chest with her other hand. “What a good boy you are. What a brave, smart boy. Can you sit for me?”

  The dog sat and turned his head, meeting her eyes before giving her a quick lick to the cheek, followed by another lick.

  She hugged him in return. Saw that the older cop had holstered his gun and the younger one, who’d joined them, had lowered his.

  Analia felt compelled to say, “He’s not going to attack you. He only attacked because I was being attacked.”

  She looked around. A few people watched though others were starting to drift away now that the excitement was over.

  “There were witnesses,” she said urgently. “I’m sure someone caught it on video.”

  “Saw it myself,” the older cop said.

  An animal control truck pulled to a stop behind one of the police cars. And somehow, someway, the dog recognized what the truck meant.

  He started to pull away. But she tightened her arms as the younger cop’s gun jerked upward.

  “I’ll have to shoot if you lose control of him,” the policeman said. “We have a report of another attack a little while ago. I’m betting it’s this same dog.”

  “But you don’t know for sure,” Analia said.

  A male animal control officer descended onto the beach, a long pole with a noose at the end in his hands. The older cop said, “The dog needs to be quarantined.”

  “He didn’t do anything wrong. He was just protecting me. He belongs to me and unless you have proof he attacked someone unprovoked, then I’m taking him home.”

  It was a pure and total bluff but she wouldn’t let anything happen to the dog.

  “So he’s yours?” the cop asked. “If so then I’ll need to see his dog license and proof of rabies vaccination.”

  “I haven’t had time to license him. I don’t have proof that he’s had his rabies shot. I only just got him.”

  “Is that so?” The cop’s gray mustache twitched.

  Her chin went up, which probably shouted lie. “Yes, it’s so,” she said, making the claim anyway.

  The dog chose that moment to pull from her hug. He spun, no doubt hyperaware of the animal control officer now only steps away from being within reach to slip the noose over his head.

  He bolted and Analia gasped, “No!”

  Her pulse revved as she imagined the young cop taking aim and firing. Instead there was a swooshing sound.

  The wolfhound yipped. Spun. Bit at his flank.

  Analia saw something silvery and looked toward the boardwalk. A second animal control truck had arrived. A female officer with short blond hair lowered a rifle.

  Tranquilizer gun, Analia thought, relief slowing her heartbeat.

  The dog dropped to the sand and remained motionless.

  She hurried to his side. Put a hand on his chest.

  It rose and fell, rose and fell in a comforting rhythm.

  The blond animal control officer secured the rifle and took something from her truck. She climbed the short railing separating boardwalk from beach and jumped to the sand rather than detour to the stairs.

  She jogged, easily joining the policemen and her co-worker. Her gaze met Analia’s and held sympathy.

  “We need to take him in,” the female officer said, firmness in her voice.

  “He belongs to me and I’ll fight in court to keep anything bad from happening to him,” Analia said, a twinge of worry spasming through her chest, given the young cop’s claim the dog had attacked someone else earlier.

  “That’s fine,” the female dog catcher said, unfolding what looked like a tarp with handles. “We can do the paperwork after he’s safely secured.”

  She and her co-worker lifted the wolfhound and placed him on the tarp. They carried him to the female officer’s truck as the mugger was hauled off to one of the police cars.

  The older policeman drove away with the prisoner. And whether it was Analia’s presence, or a genuine caring for the animals in their charge, the dog was gently placed into a caged compartment.

  Her throat constricted at seeing him helpless and imagining him returning to consciousness in a claustrophobic steel box.

  “We’ll reverse the effects of the tranquilizer,” the female animal control officer said. “He’ll be fine.”

  She pulled a clipboard out and took Analia’s information. As soon as it was done, the young police officer insisted on taking Analia’s statement at his patrol car.

  It meant losing sight of the compartment the Irish Wolfhound had been loaded in, and she hated it. But rather than fight, and delay the moment when she could actually—maybe—do something more for the dog, she accompanied the policeman to his patrol car.

  The animal control trucks drove away. And a little while later, the younger policeman finally said, “You’re free to go.”

  The first thing Analia did was whip out her phone and text Sabra. Not coming back in. Had adventure on the beach. Will tell you later, if Saffron doesn’t beat me to it.

  What!!!??? No fair. Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!

  Can’t. Need to call Saffron NOW.

  Then as a tease, she added. And I need to get to the animal shelter ASAP.

  Meanie!

  That brought a laugh, which eased some of the pressure in Analia’s chest.

  Saffron picked up on the first ring, which meant she and the gorgeous Supernatural Ops agent she was engaged to weren’t busy doing the wild thing.

  “Do you think your friend Tanya is working at the animal shelter tonight?”

  “No clue,” Saffron said, trying to ignore her very amorous mate’s teasing lips and nipple-hardening teeth as they worked their way up her ne
ck. “Why?”

  “I met a dog on the beach. A reddish-brown Irish Wolfhound.”

  Taine’s lips and teeth stopped their movement. His arm muscles flexed as he pushed away from the kitchen counter, where he’d trapped her and was working on convincing her to spread her legs so he could mount her from behind.

  Saffron suppressed a self-satisfied snicker. That man couldn’t concentrate with his cock pressed to her ass.

  She pulled the phone away from her ear and tapped to put it on speaker. “Would you say this dog looks like an Irish Wolfhound on steroids?”

  Analia’s surprise was evident in her quick intake of breath. “Yes! You’ve seen him?”

  “On the beach near Taine’s townhouse.” She glanced in that direction. “Are you close by?”

  “No. I met up with Ace and Sabra at Stones.”

  Taine’s quick laugh came with a stream of smoke and a lick of dragon fire across Saffron’s shoulders.

  The hot caress very nearly had her free hand dropping to her pussy. Only the fact she was on the phone with her best friend prevented it. Some things just seemed too deviant.

  “So you met this dog on the beach, and what, animal control came along and picked him up?” That’s the only thing that made sense given Lia’s opening question.

  “It’s worse than that.” And by the sound of Lia’s voice, it was much worse.

  Saffron turned to face Taine, who was already reaching for the jeans he’d stripped out of and tossed across the back of a chair.

  “What happened?” Saffron asked as he tugged the jeans on, preparing to go to Kellen’s rescue.

  “I was mugged.”

  “Mugged? Near Stones?”

  “Yes. The guy was after my purse even though there were cops nearby.”

  “And the dog was with you?”

  “No. I was petting him earlier but he took off. Then suddenly he was back. I guess he was looking for me. The cops claim he attacked someone else. Animal control used a tranquilizer gun and took him away.”

  More smoke poured out of Taine’s nostrils, only this time, given the expression on his face, the cause was anger and not amusement. “Let me call you back,” Saffron said.

  “I’m going to head to the animal shelter, just in case they’ll let me in. I need to make sure he’s okay. I… It breaks my heart to think of him waking up in a cage or in the animal control truck.”