by R. J. Blain
Ugh. I was my mother’s daughter. Damn it, the last thing I needed was to want a man who could snap me between his hands and make me like it because it added spice to the relationship. If life went as it usually did, I really would be just like my mother, who enjoyed when she goaded my father into getting rough and rowdy. Us Wells kids had learned to vacate the property the nights our mother went on the hunt for our father, usually picking the sanest neighbor who didn’t mind a huge pile of lynxes on their porch for a few hours.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
I did not need a big, manly lion to put me in my place. I didn’t need any damned man to put me in my place. I could handle myself just fine.
My virus disagreed with me.
Hell, I disagreed with me. I definitely needed and wanted a big, manly lion to put me in my place. Where ‘my place’ was varied on the day of the week, but I could be flexible when the situation demanded it.
As I couldn’t tell Sebastian what was on my mind, I refrained from hissing my displeasure over the reality of my virus crushing on a lion because he fit my nature a little too well. With my luck, he’d be a sadistic bastard who would enjoy handling me the instant he was given permission.
And as I took after my mother, it wouldn’t take much for me to give him permission to do whatever he wanted as long as we both walked away happy with the results.
I needed to have a long talk with my mother about her contribution to my special brand of insanity.
“There is a serial killer who is targeting women of your age and description. He is also a probable rapist and a kidnapper among other things. It is believed, at current, that he kidnaps his victims, impregnates them, and takes the children before murdering them. As their reproductive organs are missing, it’s impossible to prove this theory. The government is concerned about the possibility of children, as it is unknown what he may have done to them. You were selected as he has not targeted a lycanthrope to date, and this would make the job safer for you to complete. It’s believed he forms relationships with his potential victims before he takes them. Unfortunately, as we aren’t certain if there are live children to account for, we need to be careful. As you match the physical general description of women he likes to target, you might be able to get close to him without becoming his next victim.”
My brows shot up at Sebastian’s little speech, given in the lobby where anyone might hear us. Then again, after a quick check, the only people who could hear us were the security guards.
“Brunettes of somewhat short stature with an overabundance of mammary material?” I regarded my breasts, which were a little larger than I preferred, although they rarely interfered with my work. If anything, given the right treatment, they helped with my work, especially when I needed to deal with a lycanthrope seeking a mate. “I usually hunt lycanthropes.”
“We don’t believe he’s infected with the virus. And while your status as a brunette of somewhat short stature plays a role in his chosen targets, all of the victims are scarred.”
What an asshole. Why did my job put me into contact with so many assholes? Oh, right. I hunted assholes for a living. Of the assholes I dealt with, killing Sumners was off the table, so I’d have to deal with him being a jerk with some grace. “Okay, it’s bad enough to have scars, but to hunt and kill us over it? Nasty.”
“After ridding you of your reproductive organs,” Sebastian added.
“That’s just wrong, Sumners. That’s so wrong I’d consider doing this one on the house, except I need that damned money for my scar treatments. Jack the Ripper copycats suck, and I will happily help you murder him. Without remorse.”
“You will have the option to choose between a cash payment or a full scar removal treatment courtesy of the CDC as payment for killing off the Jack the Ripper copycat.”
I sucked in a breath, and when the elevator opened, I froze, forcing the lion to haul me inside. While I wanted to bristle at being handled, my virus wanted more attention from him. I needed to put my virus into a corner until she had a chance to take a cold shower and remember Sumners was not suitable mate material. My virus recognized me for the big, fat liar I was, as he’d be the perfect mate, if I could convince him to pay me any positive attention. “Could you repeat that? I couldn’t have heard you right.”
“You will have the choice between a cash payment or a complete scar removal treatment. The CDC will send one of their top specialists to handle the scar removal upon completion of the job. You will need to find proof of wrongdoing, you will need to locate any children born, dead or alive, and you will need to bring his living or dead body in for trial. Frankly, we would appreciate if you brought him to us as a corpse. The trial would be very short and save the government a great deal of money. Should you bring him to us as a corpse, you will need to undergo angelic verification justifying lethal force and to confirm the evidence gathered.”
“The treatment to fix my face costs millions, Sumners.”
“Two and a half million if you go the cheaper route, almost seven million for a high-end specialist with experience handling scarred lycanthropes. The CDC would be providing the high-end specialist. Any reconstructive surgery to repair underlying issues would be included, and you would undergo imaging to identify what your face should naturally look like, if you had not undergone catastrophic injury as a child. Should the imaging technology prove insufficient to get an accurate reconstruction of your face due to trauma, an angel will be hired to provide guidance. To make it fair for you, if your treatments are cheaper than expected, you will be paid the difference in cash. If it’s more expensive than expected, the CDC will pay out the full amount.”
The CDC would go as far as to hire an angel to make sure I had my real face back? “What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch. It’s a dangerous job, you’re possibly a target due to your appearance, and that warrants a high hazard rating. More importantly, there are at least ten women dead, all murdered the same way. As such, you’ll be compensated appropriately. We’ve found bounty hunters with personal reason to feel indebted to the CDC or other law enforcement agencies remain loyal until retirement, and someone with your skillset would be considered a threat should your loyalty be questioned.”
Right. I could perform disappearing acts with some makeup and time, so that made sense. “If an angel is needed, won’t that bring the bill closer to ten million? I was going to go the discount route,” I confessed. “I’ve already seen a consultant about it, and while there’s damage to the underlying bone, it wouldn’t be too bad after the scars were gone. The bone specialists are expensive.”
“Yes, we have a copy of the consultation file. Warrants for information are useful things, and I enjoyed poking my nose in your personal business to figure out what makes you tick. The government requires an evaluation of all elite hunters. I got to handle the investigation, as there was a rather high interest among handlers to have you, including a relative.”
“My uncle is going to be so mad when he finds out he’s not getting my contract. I drove all the way from home to here hoping I’d be getting a raise. That you have to swallow your utter loathing for me to do business just makes this day so much better. This morning? I had nothing but future debt and shit work ahead of me. Now? Now I get to participate in my favorite hobby, and when I’m done with that, I’ll have a real face again.”
“You have a real face. It just happens to be scarred. My office is this way.” Rather than stop at the receptionist’s desk to check me in, Sebastian waved and got an answering nod from the woman, who didn’t seem concerned about my presence. “The lower tier bounty hunters operate with a lot fewer restrictions than you’ll have to deal with, in that you’ll be expected to be on call whenever you’re needed. I’m aware of your current employment situation, and as that makes an excellent front for your evening work, I would like to have you maintain that for a while unless you’d like to retire from that line of work. As such, I’ll be relocating my office closer to yo
ur residence if you can’t arrange to move here.”
“My entire family would flip if I moved here, and there is nothing worse than my family when they’re all flipping. There is a lot of them, and all of them having a fit at the same time is annoying.”
“More annoying than you?”
Damn. The lion was out for my blood, and my virus and I liked it. “Worse. I’m significantly outnumbered. I have forty-seven brothers.”
“As a general rule, we don’t…” The lion blinked. “Did you just say you have forty-seven brothers?”
“I have a little journal that keeps track of their names, which litter they’re from, and how I can tell them apart from my other brothers. I’m the youngest of the eighth litter, and technically, I’m not supposed to exist. I showed up several weeks late to the party, so I was born prematurely, as my asshole brothers forced me out when they were ready rather than when I was ready. I still hold this against them from time to time. I spent some time in the hospital, but because I’m a girl, the CDC footed the bill in exchange for monitoring my development rate as a premature birth with the lycanthropy virus. Apparently, I gave them really good data, and I love my parents a lot, but the hospital bill keeping me alive until I could survive without the help of a machine would have ruined them. So the CDC bailed me out quite a lot, really. And I’m grateful for that, which is why I do try to follow the rules.”
Sebastian led me to a small but cozy office in the heart of a maze, something the CDC liked to do to piss off guests and potentially lose them in their corporate labyrinths. His office had a loveseat, and I invited myself onto it, stretching my legs with a soft groan. “So, yes. I have forty-seven brothers. My momma really loves my daddy. A lot.”
“I vastly underestimated the problems in your life. While I did research into your day-to-day activities, I typically don’t research immediate family unless they’re living under the same roof as the target of my interest. The file said you belonged to a lynx clan, but it didn’t mention any more than a town and the precautions the clan takes to prevent the spread of the infection. There was a note that the CDC is interested in the clan expanding to help strengthen feline numbers in the United States, as there was a note about a prolific pairing.”
“That pairing would be my parents.”
“There was also a note to see if you would consent to testing to identify why you may have been conceived, as it’s rare for lycanthrope couplings to have daughters.”
“I recommend you test my father, as he’s the responsible party for my gender. My mother just seduced him, and I didn’t exist until post seduction. I was the product of a seduction several weeks after my brothers were conceived. Frankly, nobody knows why I’m actually alive. I bet you’re regretting your job right now, knowing just how stubborn I can be.”
“Hardly. I’m rather intrigued, as it isn’t often I get to thoroughly question a medical miracle.”
I wrinkled my nose at the thought of Sebastian indulging in the wrong sort of questioning. My virus also complained over the situation. Interest in my status as a medical miracle didn’t help my virus’s problem of wanting to mate with the only eligible male cat I’d ever met. According to her, Sebastian was as eligible and as male as it got, and I bet I’d find the furry bastard’s picture beside ‘cat’ in the dictionary. “You’re one of those, aren’t you?”
“One of what?”
“You’re one of those nosy freaks with an interest in science.”
“Yes, I am. I do rather enjoy studying. It’s one of my hobbies. I go home at night and indulge in a good book. Some nights, it’s a non-fiction book. Other nights, I explore various types of fiction. As your health is now my problem, I have a great many questions for you. I’ll likely begin with your family life, as part of my job as your handler is to be aware of the other considerations, including things that might distract you from your work. For example, hunters who feel their family will be threatened often are unable to perform. It’s my job to make certain those factors are managed to everyone’s general satisfaction.”
Well, if he wanted to know about my family life, he only had himself to blame for what he learned. “I’m a virgin because I have forty-seven brothers who act as chaperones, two parents who act as chaperones, and several uncles who also act as chaperones. I have a family of overprotective freaks who get upset if I do not check in at least three times a week. Said overprotective freaks felt guilty I was going to a spa in Cincinnati rather than to somewhere like Hawaii. Thanks to their guilt, I got to mug the bastards for their pocket change. That was fun, but they were well aware I’d be mugging them for their pocket change, so they put large bills in their wallets for me to steal to soothe their guilty consciences. My uncle felt so guilty over my status as a helpless female with no love life that he bought me a laptop and used the kittens to make certain I accepted it. It was chaos.”
According to Sebastian’s expression, he was not impressed with me. “Your family has no idea about your bounty hunting, do they?”
“My uncle, the bounty hunter handler, has no idea I’m into bounty hunting. I will rip your intestines out through your nose should you inform him of my side job. They happily think I’ve somewhat accepted my general scars and work in customer service, as I am more reclusive than the average lynx. My family? They have forgotten they are solitary cats and prefer living in a nice, big clan with as many kittens around causing trouble as possible. The fifteenth litter consists of five kittens, and they’re all adorable trouble. My ruthless asshole family used the kittens to make sure I accepted their gifts, as I am known to be stubborn. I can’t make the kittens cry, and they are growing to be proper lynxes, willing to use their cuteness and ferocity to get what they desire. They’ve finally gotten over my face, so I really don’t want to make the kittens cry.”
“I am well aware of your stubborn tendencies, and I do not require additional education regarding those tendencies.”
My virus really loved taunting the snooty lion too much for my comfort. The grumpier he got, the happier she became.
I needed to ditch the lion before I started siding with my virus even more than I already did. “It only gets worse from here. You’ll have to put up with me frequently. Should I send flowers as consolation gifts or are you the chocolate type?”
“One day, you are going to get what you deserve, and I will be there to enjoy every moment of it.”
As far as threats went, I liked his. It meant he’d be around a lot. The lion often annoyed me, but when he did, and I held my own against him, my virus settled for days at a time, pleased over having nettled him. As for what I deserved, I could think of a few things, including a scar-free face, landing a dedicated feline male for life, one I could bite to my heart’s content, and possibly enough chocolate to sink a battleship, served with enough coffee to float it. My virus interpreted the lion’s comment as an expression of his eligibility; the king of the jungle would make a suitable mate for us, and he roared so nicely.
Yep. My virus was about twenty-four hours from spiking in order to get what she wanted, which would make my life interesting when I went hunting in Cincinnati. In good news, my picky as hell virus wouldn’t accept any random male, which helped a lot.
Not just any potential tumble into bed met my virus’s criteria.
“I already accepted bounties in Cincinnati. That’s my retreat, and it’s pocket change I need,” I announced, determined to rein my virus in and redirect Sebastian back to work. “And there’s that asshole lycanthrope on the way to Cincinnati I need to take care of.”
“You’re going to insist on being stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Absolutely. But since you’re offering scar removal, I am willing to share my bounties with you.” My virus approved of my idea of dragging the lion with me. “But you’re going to have to pretend you’re an attracted male because I’m going to be romping around without any perfume. If you’re sniffing at my turf like every other single male lycanthrope in a mile radius, then
nobody will look twice at you.”
“You use perfume?”
“It’s useful sometimes.” The CDC’s invention, meant to help single lycanthrope females stay single, cost a fortune, and they issued me a limited supply for bounties when they had a job they wanted me to do. “I need to get more, actually. My supply is low, and that shit’s expensive. Usually, I go without because it does a good job of luring out the unsavory lycanthropes.”
“That’s dangerous,” he growled.
“Sure, if you have an idiot virus. I have a very picky virus, Sumners. Her response to unwanted males is to inflict as much damage to them as possible. I like it.” I smiled. “I like it a lot. It’s very useful when one is a bounty hunter with a picky virus.”
“The virus…” Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Just how picky is your virus?”
“I’m single because she’s that picky.” Only a male cat would do, and only the best male cat would do. According to my virus, Sebastian was that male cat. “I’m sure the male my virus selects will make most excellent prey, and by the time I get to sinking my claws into his ass, he’ll be a most willing participant.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being figurative,” he complained.
I debated. Would Sebastian roar if I sank my claws into his ass? Probably. “Definitely meant to be literal.”
“You need lessons regarding men, Wells. That is not how you catch a man. That’s how you drive men off.”
Yes, it was. “Then it’s a good thing my virus is picky. I’m sure the right eligible male to cross my path will find some way to secure my attention without me having to sink my claws into his ass.”
My virus approved of my subterfuge. She wanted to know what Sebastian would do—and if he would earn his place as the king of our jungle. If he didn’t, I’d enjoy the ride in any case.
Yep, I was my mother’s daughter—and my father’s, too. Next time I wandered home, I’d have to go after my father, as only an idiot pounced a pregnant lycanthrope and expected to survive.
