by E A Price
“You know I only say those things because it pisses Gunner off and makes Erin smile.” Gunner had mated a human and was protective to the point of madness over her. His mate Erin, on the other hand, could be pretty laid back, and in spite of a rocky start with Isis, the two of them were friends.
“I’ll bet he’s gorgeous – knitwear model gorgeous. Oooh, I’ll bet he’s lean with sharp features, black hair and piercing blue eyes.” The squirrel let out a contented sigh.
“Yeuch, sounds like you’re describing Director Sanders.” Cold, calculating snakes were not her thing; but, she guessed that some might find the director attractive. And a couple of days ago, she also would have said that humans weren’t her thing. She definitely wasn’t saying that now. Her tiger swished her tail and looked mighty pleased with herself. Time to end this. “He’s actually hideous, repulsive some might say. He smells like a sewer rat that’s taken a bath in cottage cheese and then stood in front of a heater for an hour. Plus he has three nostrils.”
She could practically feel Raf straining with curiosity to try and lean over and listen to her conversation. Thank the tiger goddess that humans had bad hearing. If he had been a shifter, she might have been forced to be embarrassed – and Isis did not do embarrassment.
“I know you’re lying,” the squirrel said, gleefully with a few clacks of her keyboard, “I have a picture of him right in front of me.”
Isis felt an icy rage tug on her nerves, and Ms. Kitty was not a happy pussy. “Why do you have a picture?” Find your own mate, vermin!
Jessie giggled – actually damn well giggled. “Gunner wanted me to check him out.”
“How dare he!” snarled Isis with so much vehemence Raf actually jumped and the car swerved ever so slightly.
“What? You know we always do this when we work with humans. We have to be careful.”
Isis clamped her jaws shut. Alright, there had been an incident a few years ago when an SEA agent teamed with a shifter hating moron, and it had not ended well – think a knife fight on top of a tourist bus… the explanation as to how that happened was lengthy. But to lump Raf – her Raf – in the same category of that psycho whack-a-doodle was unconscionable. Alright, so technically he was not her Raf, but… ah, damnit! Her tiger harrumphed.
“Did you call for a reason?” asked Isis, sourly.
“Yes, my grumpy tigress, you wanted to know whether I could find any connection to Elspeth Grey in the Vampire Directory. Sorry it took me so long, I've been swamped here.”
“Right, yeah, anything?” She had actually forgotten about that.
“No, sorry. No known connection to any registered vampire, but then there are so many not accounted for, it doesn’t mean a connection doesn’t exist. Is this part of your case?”
“Kind of.”
“Anyway, I better go, but call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
“Also,” said Jessie, cheerfully before starting to sing, “Isis and Rafael, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i…”
Isis hung up before that got any further. Damn squirrel.
“Friend of yours?” Raf flicked a curious glance at her.
“Sometimes.” When the critter wasn’t taunting her. “It was my teammate, Jessie. Elspeth Grey has no vampire affiliations.”
Raf nodded. “I suppose it was too much to ask that her brother had been turned into a vampire or something.”
“Yeah, why oh why aren’t more people turned into vampires? Oh right, the whole ‘it would be hell on earth’ thing.”
“I’m gonna call the station and get a couple of patrol officers to stay outside the cemetery. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and our bloodsucking fiend will return, or maybe we’ll get really lucky and our body snatchers will come back. Jeez, this is really messed up.”
Isis smirked. “You get used to it.” Although she didn’t like the way her stomach clenched or her tiger wailed at the thought of the case ending that soon. It was completely unprofessional, but couldn’t their bad guys run free for just a little longer so that she could spend a little more time losing herself in his velvet brown eyes and fresh, tantalizing scent?
He darted a warm smile in her direction, and her tongue almost lolled out of her mouth. Maybe she’d been spending too much time around wolf shifters. Or maybe her heat was taking its toll and being trapped in a car with a virile man, drenched in his own arousal was not helping.
“I bet you have some stories to tell about working for the SEA.”
“Oh, I do,” she panted. “You mind if I turn up the AC?” She didn’t wait for a response and turned it up to almost arctic conditions.
Raf shivered immediately, his caramel colored skin broke out into goose pimples, and Isis had the urge to run her tongue up and down his arm. Get it together girl. “I’d sure love to hear some,” he said, trying to pretend his teeth weren’t starting to chatter.
Maybe he thought it would be a little unmanly to admit how cold he was and ask to turn the heater up. But whatever the reason, she was grateful for it. The only thing keeping her from ripping her clothes off and launching herself at the good detective was the freezing temperature and a set of claws digging into her palms. As appealing as letting loose and giving into her fantasies was, she wasn’t sure how keen Raf would be for her to do so. Plus the headline of ‘car run off road by horny tigress – no survivors’ was not an appetizing thought. Instead, she dug her claws in a little harder, ignored the baleful whine of her tiger and launched into the story of when she arrested a kangaroo shifter who had taken to shoplifting in her shifted form and kept putting her stolen items in her pouch.
Chapter Seven
“Ugh!” Isis snarled and in a snit, tore the green tank top apart with her claws. Minion let out a hostile yowl as shreds of the garment landed on her head. “Oh, suck it up!” scolded Isis.
The cat gave her a disdainful look before turning, sticking her tail straight up in the air to show Isis her anus and sauntering away. Lucifer and Brimstone lounged on her bed, watching her with lazy disinterest.
“What are you doing?”
“Gah!” Isis clutched at her chest, and even Ms. Kitty yelped as her mom materialized at the side of her. When her mom first started haunting her, all she’d done was hang around the living room and kitchen, but since she started practicing, she could pop in and out whenever and wherever she damn well wanted. It was really freaking annoying.
“Nothing,” hissed Isis.
Cleo peered around the room. “It appears as if most of the contents of your closet have been torn apart and thrown on the floor.”
“Not most of them, just a few of them.”
The few that Isis had decided were no longer flattering. Yep, Isis who had always flaunted her body without a care in the world was having a bit of a crisis when it came to choosing her outfit for the next day. Raf had dropped her off at her apartment with a promise to collect her bright and early in the morning and Isis couldn’t decide what she was going to wear. It was… concerning.
Isis had never cared what anyone thought of her dress sense, her make-up, her hair – anything. And as for dressing to please a man? Oh – as if! If any of her previous conquests had issues with what she was wearing, they could go suck it.
“This isn’t like you,” murmured Cleo, frowning at the shredded tank top.
“I just don’t think that they suit me.” She needed to be sexy, professional, cool, together, playful, serious and above all, not needy. If she could find an outfit that said all that, it would be great.
Maybe her worry wasn’t about clothes at all. Maybe it really was about what Raf meant to her. She needed to be in control of the situation with Raf, not floundering around as if she had spent a good two hours playing with her coochie in the tub while she thought of him. Which she had just finished doing. Ms. Kitty had been all for inviting Raf in for a cup of coffee and seeing where that led… but Isis had firmly put her two-inch heel boot down on that idea. No, she wasn’t about to leap into bed
with a human. Yes, she could scent his attraction to her, but that didn’t mean anything. Everywhere she went men lusted after her – that was nothing new. But that was just base, animal instinct. The idea that Raf might be her mate, a part of her soul, was something else entirely. She was actually starting to admit that she felt the pull of a mate to him, but being human, could he say the same? Would he even understand the importance of it? Would he even want to? Bedding a shifter was one thing. Plenty of humans have sex with shifters out of curiosity, or at least, so she was told. But, bonding with one for the rest of your life? That was a bit much for some humans. But then, it was a bit much for some tigers, too. Tigers in nature tended to be solitary, and tiger shifters tended to be more like their wild animals than other shifters. Would she feel the wanderlust and run away as her own father had?
Her mom cut through her maudlin thoughts. “Oh, baby, you look beautiful in anything. Has something happened?”
“No. What do you think of this?” Isis held up a purple shirt. “Does it clash with my hair?”
Cleo looked as startled as she could for a ghost. “You’re asking my opinion?” she choked out.
“Yes,” snapped Isis, impatiently.
“I never thought I’d live to see the day…”
“Technically you didn’t.”
Cleo frowned. “Something must have happened if you’re actually asking for my advice. You haven’t been interested in what I think since you were two years old, and you started picking out your own clothes.”
Her tiger huffed. “You’re exaggerating.”
“You’ve been your own person since you started walking. You’ve never needed approval from anyone else, and you’ve felt the need to justify your actions. I’ve always loved that about you. Although I wouldn’t have minded if you had shared a little more with me, but it’s your life to do with as you choose.”
Isis toyed with the hem of the purple shirt. Okay, yes, she’d always adopted a ‘if you don’t like me, screw you, and if you do, still screw you’ attitude toward the rest of the world, but it was necessary. Growing up in a human neighborhood when you’re a tiger was not always the easiest thing in the world, so Isis had to be tough. But had she become so hard hearted that it meant she couldn’t soften enough to risk letting a mate into her heart? Her tiger sulked, and Isis tried to soothe her. Fuck, this was depressing.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
Cleo blinked at her, and Isis waved the purple top in her direction. “Oh, it’s lovely, dear. What’s his name?”
“None of your business.”
Her mom sighed and started walking towards the kitchen – straight through the wall, naturally. “Yes, that’s the Isis I know and love.”
*
“So what are we doing?” asked Office Leaky in a disagreeably whiny voice.
Officer Tom Collins, he of the unfortunate name, rolled his eyes. Collins had been on the job for a year. He had graduated pretty low in his class and doubted he would ever make it past beat cop, but he enjoyed the perks that being a police officer afforded. Such as free beer at his local bar, free meals at his local diner and being able to cut in line at the bank. Perks that other cops didn’t even bother to take advantage of – morons. Life was pretty sweet. What he didn’t like was babysitting new recruits, especially new recruits who seemed to take training tips from Rambo.
“We’re just stationed here to watch and report.”
Actually, it was one of the better assignments Collins had been given over the past year. What was going to happen at a cemetery? Nothing! He could just sit in the patrol car all night and doze to his heart’s content. At least, he could try.
“Why are we here? Nothing’s happening,” grumbled Leaky.
“Look, we’re just here for appearances sake. Nobody’s going to be dumb enough to try to get in there knowing we’re here.”
Leaky looked out the window, staring back at all the imaginary monsters with a fierceness that said he wished they would be dumb enough.
Bah, rookies.
Collins shuffled down in his seat and closed his eyes. “You watch and let me know if anything happens.”
“You’re going to sleep?” Leaky sounded as surprised as if he’d just been told his grandmother was the Lone Ranger in disguise.
“No, I’m resting so that if anything happens, I’ll have plenty of energy to spring into action.”
Leaky doubted that somehow. There was more life in a garden gnome than Collins. He leaned back in his seat, mimicking Collins’ pose. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, just to refresh himself. Night shifts played havoc with your body clock. The next thing he knew, he was yelping awake as something smashed into the hood of the patrol car.
Collins grunted awake. “Wha’ ‘appened?” he mumbled.
Leaky gaped open-mouthed as something, someone, a man it must be, jumped off the car and ran away into the darkness at an alarming speed. On shaky, just woken-up legs, Leaky stumbled out of the vehicle. He inspected the car; it was slightly dented from the force of someone jumping on it, but it was nothing compared to the other bangs and dents adorning the hood.
He stared in the direction that the mystery man had disappeared into.
Collins practically fell out of the car. “What was that?”
Good question.
*
Isis slid into the passenger seat, and Raf sped toward the cemetery. The patrol cops who were guarding it had reported an intruder, and Raf and Isis were on their way to check it out. The cops on duty had started searching, but they couldn’t find anyone, but then they didn’t have Isis’ senses.
He was glad of the darkness of the night; perhaps even with her cats eyes she might not see the heated glances he was sending her. It was 1 am, and yet she looked divine. Her eyes, swimming with the yellow of her tiger glowed in the dark, and the lazy smile she had given him as she folded her lush body into his car made his blood boil. He ran a hand through his rumpled hair and tried to hold back the monumental yawn that wanted to escape. He was usually a morning person, always full of energy. But he was trying to function on two nights of interrupted sleep - interrupted by a feline shifter stalking his dreams – and a near-constant hard-on that was more debilitating than he ever imagined it would be.
He caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. She swept a strand of hair behind her ear, pulling her shirt taut over her breasts. He was reminded of earlier when she had turned the AC up to an insane degree, and the buds of her nipples had tightened and pressed against the tight fabric of her shirt. The urge to pull the car over and jump her had almost been overwhelming. Almost. He still retained a modicum of decency. Not to mention concern that she could just slap him in the face and call him a pervert. While she could easily scent his arousal – her knowing smirk showed that she did – he didn’t know how she felt in return. She could just be flirting with him for fun. How was he to know whether it meant anything? Other than coming right out and asking her. Yeah, yeah, that sounded easy, but the abruptness of asking her how she felt about him after having only met him a day ago could easily scare her away, and he definitely didn’t want that. Not that she seemed like the skittish type. No, she was more in the mold of a warrior princess. But if he recalled, because he was a massive fan of the show Xena, the titular character didn’t really have much luck when it came to men.
“Raf?”
“Hmmm?” He glanced at her to find her golden orbs staring at him; eyebrows delicately arched over them. Unbidden, an image of her in the full leather warrior princess outfit rose before his eyes and he shuddered slightly.
“I asked you whether the patrol guys got a look at the intruder.”
“Oh, right.” Yeah, he went into a world of his own there for a few moments. “No, all they said was that it was a dark figure, somewhere between five-foot-six and six-foot-four, either male or female and they seemed to be moving quickly, but not necessarily supernaturally quickly.”
“So, that�
�s almost everyone on the planet then,” she mused.
“Well, we can eliminate children.”
Isis rolled her eyes. “I’m fairly certain we could have eliminated them before we even started. Can I turn the heater up? It’s kind of cold in here.” Her fingers reached for the control.
“Sure,” he mumbled, a little disappointed. While it wasn’t at such a low setting as earlier – for fear of frostbite – he had set it was low as he could bear, in the hope that it would have the same outcome as earlier. Yes, he was a deviant, and he didn’t care.
They pulled up to the cemetery and found the two patrol cops of the previous night, Collins and Leaky standing outside the main gate, looking more than a little apprehensive. Shep, the mole shifter stood a few yards away watching everyone vigilantly.
Isis leaped out of the car with feline grace and Raf scrambled after her. “So what happened?” he asked of the two cops.
“Well,” began Leaky, “we were sitting in the car when he saw a dark figure climbing over the fence. They then jumped on our car and ran away.”
Raf waited, but that appeared to be the end of the report. “What happened then? You called it in and then followed our guy, right?”
“By the time we got out of the car, he was already gone,” said Collins.
“You didn’t go into the cemetery?”
“Well, no, when we saw him he was coming out of the cemetery. He was leaving.” Collins let out a huge yawn.
“You were asleep, weren’t you?” Collins and Leaky both looked sheepish and Raf knew that was exactly it. They’d both been asleep in the patrol car, and when a figure dropped down in front of the car, they’d been startled awake and slow to react.
“Hmmm, maybe it was our vampire friend,” mused Isis, tapping a finger against a red painted lip.
“Vampire?” repeated Leaky, uneasily.
