Catching the Cat Burglar: (BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Honeycomb Falls Book 3)

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Catching the Cat Burglar: (BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance) (Honeycomb Falls Book 3) Page 10

by Cassie Wright


  "No!" Grange draws a bead and fires his gun, and I see where the bullet hits the monster in its huge shoulder. It snarls, drops Blake, and barrels into the cops. I barely have enough presence of mind to throw myself aside as it sends the three men flying and tumbling like bowling pins. I land on my forearms, the pain sharp, but quickly raise my head and see the monster returning to where Blake, again in his human form, is forcing himself back to his feet.

  The chief groans by my side, dazed. Bardwell lies still. I can't see Grange. I have to do something. Blake is clearly in pain, and can barely stand. The monster seems indifferent to his wounds. But what can I do?

  Blake draws himself up and stares disdainfully at the monster. "Scum."

  The monster pauses and then speaks, its voice like rocks shifting deep in the earth. "You killed her."

  Blake shakes his head. "No. Nobody killed her but you." His voice actually has an edge of pity to it. "You know that. And still you seek your twisted revenge."

  "You killed her!" roars the monstrous werewolf, and it crouches to spring. Blake stares at it with disdain, not bothering to run or protect himself.

  It's going to kill him. Right here before me. I tear my eyes away and search the ground, spotting the chief's gun. I snatch it up just as the monster roars and leaps. I'm too late - I'm too late!

  I turn, expecting to see the worst, but a golden shape drops from the skies like a comet from the heavens, and collides with the monster, knocking it to the ground. Chase! He's in his dire jaguar form, a massive, sinuous beast, great tail whipping the air as it latches onto the monster's back, jaws locked around its neck, all four claws sunk deep into its flesh.

  "Chase!" My voice tears through the night, but he pays me no mind. The monster rises to its feet and tries to shake him off, growling horribly, but Chase only clamps on tighter.

  I drop the chief's gun. It won't help. Instead I run down to Bardwell's car and pop the trunk, reach in and grab the shotgun I know is kept there. I spring back, pumping a shell into the chamber. I slow as I draw close - the monster gives a terrific shake, and Chase is thrown free, contorting in mid-air to land on his feet. The monster doesn't wait, but throws himself at the massive jaguar, who darts aside with Chase's impossible agility and rakes his claws down the monster's flank.

  I can't breathe, I can't think, but I also can't stand idly by. I get closer, the shotgun at my shoulder, waiting for my chance. I'm going to have to get close if I'm not going to hit Chase as well.

  The pair of them dance, the wolf always lunging, Chase always barely avoiding each blow and opening new lacerations in the monster's hide. But it seems impervious to pain, and each attack seems to bring it ever closer to catching Chase.

  I inch closer, and closer, sweating in fear, hair stuck to my forehead, and then, to my horror, Chase trips. He ducks a claw swipe, leaps aside, but stumbles and falls. The wolf is about to fall on him and tear him apart when a little form comes yipping out of the shadows underneath a car to latch its teeth on the wolf's hind leg.

  My eyes go wide. Groofy.

  The wolf stops, looks down in disbelief and gives a careless flick of its leg, sending Groofy tumbling away.

  It's all the opportunity I need.

  I step in close, right up to it, and aim the shotgun at the wolf's head.

  It turns to stare at me just as I pull the trigger.

  There's an awful explosion of noise and a flare of fire from the muzzle, and then the wolf's head snaps back, and it collapses to the ground.

  I stand over it and watch with numb horror as the monster reverts to its human form. He shrinks, his fur melting away, and in moments a man in his early forties lies naked on the road, his chest and throat ruined by my blast. Deep lines of pain and misery crease his face, and I can tell that he was once handsome, majestic, even. He gazes up at me, pain clouding his eyes, and smiles.

  "Thank you," he whispers. "I can... finally rest." His eyes close, and he goes still.

  I drop the shotgun and press my hand to my mouth. Chase is by my side, arms wrapped around me, and I can hear the chief roaring orders as he climbs uncertainly to his feet. I can't tear my eyes away from the fallen man. I killed him. I ended his life.

  Chase holds me tight, and I hug him, tears coming as the overwhelming flood of emotions pours out of me. Relief. Anguish. Shock. He holds me tight throughout all of what comes next, the arrival of Blake's pack, the questions from the chief, the ambulance lights strobing the night air, people peering out of their windows and doorways.

  Somehow we end up at the station, and I sit with a blanket around my shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate between my two hands. Chase never leaves me. He does all the talking, explaining things calmly, quietly, and with complete confidence.

  Bardwell drives us both home an hour later. Up to my house in the hills. Chase takes my keys and leads me inside, up to my bedroom. There we get into bed, and he holds me close as I cry and tremble, and finally fall asleep.

  Chapter 14

  I meet Blake for coffee at Anita's bakery a week later. The sun is shining, and I'm carrying a number of bags filled with Christmas gifts that I've picked out for friends. The largest holds a leather jacket I've bought for Chase - I know he'll look stunning in it.

  Blake is sitting in the corner of the bakery by the window, eyes closed, soaking in the sunlight, a cup of tea sitting on the table in front of him. He's looking much better - his shifter metabolism has healed him faster than I thought possible, but still he looks pale and worn out. He opens one eye as I sit down across from him, setting down my bags, and gives me a smile.

  "How are you feeling?" I ask.

  "Better. Between Rachel, Hui, and Anita, I don't have any option. That, and the good news has me feeling better than I ever have before."

  "Good news?" I raise an eyebrow.

  His smile widens. "Rachel's expecting."

  My eyes go wide. "Really? Congratulations!" On impulse I lean over his shoulder to hug him, and he chuckles, hugging me back.

  "Thanks." I notice him wince as he sits back down, and almost regret my attacking him. Almost. "We're going to have an official human ceremony soon to formalize things. In the eyes of my pack and shifters everywhere she's my permanent mate, but she wants to wear a fancy dress and make formal vows."

  I grin. "Poor you."

  He snorts. "Hardly. I'm happy to do anything that makes her happy." He sips from his mug of tea and then studies me. "And you?"

  My impish grin turns into a genuine smile. "I'm doing great. Chase has already moved into my place. I know it's fast, but. Well. As you said. When you become someone's permanent mate, there's no need to pretend otherwise."

  "Indeed." Blake waits. I asked him to meet. I've got a question. One I've been meaning to ask since that night.

  "Blake... I want to thank you." I take a deep breath. "That night, when you picked up Chase's scent, you never mentioned mine. Thank you."

  He nods gravely, but still doesn't speak.

  I hesitate, then take the plunge. "I just wanted to ask why. Why didn't you spill the beans?"

  Blake sets his cup down. "I was helping your police, but I'm not a police officer. I don't understand human law completely, but I do know your kind can be very hasty. Arresting and not asking the right questions. Chase was breaking the law, so I was happy to help. You? I didn't know your angle. I was going to speak to you after, and find out."

  I let out a deep breath. "Well, thank you. It made everything much simpler."

  He gives me a wry smile. "My pleasure."

  I stand. "Well, I'm heading over to the library now. Merry Christmas, and I'll try to swing by soon to give Rachel a hug."

  His eyes gleam, and I can tell he's thrilled to be a father. "Take care, Joanna. Come by any time."

  I grin, grab my bags, wave to Anita, and head back outside. The streets are smothered in a fresh layer of snow which gleams brilliantly in the sunshine. Everybody is bustling through Honeycomb Falls, rushing to and fro buying their
last few gifts, and I can hear a carol being sung from somewhere just out of sight. A number of tourists are in town to gaze at our glorious Christmas tree outside the town hall, and the galleries, art shops and the Gypsy Cafe are doing brisk business.

  I make my way along the crowded sidewalk, smiling at friends, and duck into the station on Bridge Street. There's Christmas music playing on the radio, and the chief's the only one inside, feet up on his desk and a large slice of cheesecake rapidly disappearing from the plate he's balancing on his tummy.

  "Kilmarten," he says as I step into his office, and then smiles. "Officer Kilmarten, that is."

  "Morning, Chief. Just wanted to give you a little something." I set my bags down and dig out a small gift-wrapped box, which I hand over. "You can't open it till the 25th, though."

  The chief turns it over and over in his hands, and then smiles. "You shouldn't have. But since you did, thank you." He hesitates. "I'm afraid I didn't get you anything..."

  "Are you kidding? You've given me the greatest gift possible." I beam at him. Not only has he offered me the position, but in light of Chase's heroic bravery - and complete lack of evidence, as everything had been returned - the chief has decided to drop all charges. "You'll see. I won't disappoint you, and I'll do Bardwell proud. Can you give this to him when he comes in?" I set a second little box down.

  "Sure thing. You scheduled your exam already?"

  I nod. "January 17th. I'm going to ace it."

  He chuckles. "I'm sure you will. Enjoy yourself till then, because once you pass, you're mine, and I'm going to work you ragged."

  I grin. "Can't wait. Take care, Chief LaBonte!"

  "And you, Kilmarten. Merry Christmas."

  I step back outside, and a little shape emerges from underneath the bench. Before Groofy can say a thing, I dig into my pack and pull out a to-go dish from the Wise Salmon. "Why, hello, Groofy."

  "Hello - I - is that -?"

  "This?" I look in mock surprise at the steak held within the container. "Why, what is this extra rare T-Bone steak doing in here?"

  "T-Bone?" He sounds almost plaintive.

  "Hmm. And is there a ribbon and bow on it? How strange!"

  Groofy lets out a whine. "I can smell it! It's still hot!"

  I crouch and set it down in front of him. "Merry Christmas, partner. You've earned this, and more."

  Groofy goes to tear the ribbon off with his oversized teeth, then pauses and looks up at me quizzically. "Partner?"

  I nod solemnly. "Of course. I'm going to be a real police officer in a month. You've got until then to relax, because then I'm going to work you ragged." I can't help but grin as I use the chief's own words.

  Groofy's eyebrows go up high. "Really?"

  I nod. "And of course I'm going to have to pay you in steak. After all, what would you do with dollars?"

  His eyebrows go up even higher. "Really really?"

  I reach out and pat his head. "Yes. You saved the day. You're the bravest little dog I know. I'd be honored to have you as my partner."

  Groofy blinks rapidly, and for the first time since I met him he's speechless. Suddenly he looks very small, a scruffy little dog that nobody notices or cares about, his eyes shining with tears, all the cynicism and smart comments falling away to reveal his vulnerable little doggie heart.

  I smile and reach down to give him a hug. "Merry Christmas, Groofy."

  "Merry Christmas," he whispers, and then clears his throat. "Ahem. Do I have to wait till the 25th to open my present?"

  I stand. "Nope. You're the only one who doesn't."

  "Great!" He begins to tear fiercely at the ribbon. "Mine!"

  I laugh. "All yours. See you around, partner."

  He doesn't even respond. I walk away, feeling light and happy and on cloud nine. The library is just ahead. Chase should be closing up, since today's only a half day. When the chief offered me Bardwell's position, I gave my notice and the Board responded by cutting the library hours even further. Chase smiled grimly, seeing it as a challenge. He told me his goal was to grow the library through special events and by offering all kinds of classes and resources, so that one day soon it would be open full-time again. Already he's wrangling with Mr. Elon about acquiring a number of new computers.

  I grin as I open the familiar door. It feels like coming home, with the smell of books, newspapers, and the old leather armchairs in the corner. Chase is standing behind the computer, frowning at something at the screen, and for a moment I just admire him. He's wearing a knitted white sweater that hugs his body perfectly, and is as smoking hot and dreamy as when I first laid eyes on him.

  "Having trouble logging in?" I cross over to the front desk.

  "Hmm?" He looks up, recognizes me, and smiles. It's the kind of smile I've always dreamed of being on the receiving end of, warm and rich, with undertones of desire and hunger. "Hello, princess."

  I set my bags down and cross my arms over the desk, leaning forward so he can kiss me. The kiss starts soft, and soon begins to grow demanding, so I pull back before I lose control. "Does that make you my prince?"

  He leans forward, following my lips until he stops and grins. "I rather fancy myself a king."

  I arch a brow. "Well, is his highness having trouble logging in?"

  Chase mock-scowls at me. "Hardly. I'm just wrestling with the budget. There has to be money somewhere in our accounts for some discretionary funding."

  "Ah, the travails of being a real librarian."

  He swats at me. "It's so much harder doing things the right way. If I could just bend a few rules..."

  I lean back and cross my arms. He grins, places one hand on the counter and vaults up, swinging his legs over and drawing me to him. The way he moves still takes my breath away.

  "You know I'm kidding." His voice gets husky as wraps his arms around me. "The only thing I want to steal is your heart."

  I raise my face to his. "You stole that a long time ago."

  His green eyes are a universe of stars and mystery, love and ardor, and I'm at the center of it all. "Then my life is complete. I burn for nothing else."

  My breath hitches in my throat, and he kisses me, kisses me hard. My legs go weak, and I find myself asking, is it always going to be like this? This magical, this hot, this intense? Part of me knows that no, it will change, ripen, our relationship growing more mature, but another part of me, wilder and free, knows that Chase has an infinity of vitality and life to him, a burning desire that will never go out. That with him in my life, things will never grow stale.

  I groan as his arms wrap around me. My reserve from before melts away like frost in the sunlight, and I press my hands to his chest and then move them down to his crotch, where I can feel his rigid hardness straining at his jeans.

  He smiles into our kiss, and then bites my lower lip provocatively as I begin to massage his bulge. "You do that," he growls, "and I won't be held accountable for my actions."

  I kiss him again, hard, then pull back. "You're no longer my boss. We can be as unprofessional as we like."

  "Is that so?" He slides off the counter to stand in front of me, and cups the back of my neck with his hand. "Then I can do what I want with you?"

  Desire pools within me, a liquid yearning for his touch, his cock, all of him. I give him my most salacious smile. "I'm all yours. But this cuts both ways."

  He mock-growls and kisses my neck, the faint rasp of his stubble on my skin sending shivers down my spine. "I'm glad," he whispers into my ear, his warm breath tickling me and sending a flush of desire through me. "I may need to borrow your handcuffs, though."

  I laugh throatily, tingling all over as he resumes kissing my neck, working his way down to my clavicle. "You can borrow them, but I get to keep the key."

  He pulls back and looks me full in the face again, smiling wickedly. "That's fine. With what I've got planned, I know you won't try to escape."

  I kiss him, running my tongue over his lips, then his own slips into my mouth, and glides over
mine. We kiss deeply, a soul kiss, and I feel him rumble deep in his chest. I'm getting to know him better. I know when his beast is fighting to take control, push him over the edge, make him act on his instincts. I love that sense of his losing control, losing his calm, ironic detachment over me.

  Chase pulls back and takes me by the hand. No words now. He locks the front door, and then drags me deeper into the stacks, out of sight. Presses me back against the shelves of books and drops to his knees. His dexterous fingers have my belt unbuckled and my jeans down to my ankles before I can blink. I gasp and reach down, sliding my fingers into his dark hair as he pushes my panties aside and flicks his tongue over my sex.

  I almost buck my hips forward. The pleasure is sharp, intense, the lash of a whip. I gasp again as he inhales deeply and looks up at me, his green eyes smoldering with an inner light. "I fucking love your scent, Joanna. It's the smell of my mate. The woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

  I don't know how to respond. I can only smile tremulously at him, and then he leans forward again and licks me with luxurious care, using the breadth of his tongue, from base to clit. It sends a shivering wave of raw pleasure surging up within me. I whimper and press his face closer.

  "Like that, Chase." I close my eyes and lean my head back against the spines of books. "Lick me. Taste me. Make me come."

  Chase's tongue is magnificent. One moment it's working slow circles around my clit, building it up to a trembling peak of tension, then it dips in between my lips, into my canal, sending waves of hunger for a deeper penetration through me. His hands are tight around my ass, squeezing my flesh, and I feel my knees giving way as the pleasure mounts. I reach up and grasp at the shelves, trying to hold myself up, to keep from collapsing as he continues to torment me.

  "Fuck," I whisper. "Chase, that's not fair." I can barely stand.

 

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