Species Interaction

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Species Interaction Page 6

by Cheyenne Meadows


  "Why haven't you answered my calls?" She threw her bag on the desk, standing toe-to-toe with Meat.

  His gaze flicked over her. "I've been busy."

  She sneered. "Busy with what? Sleeping with the bearded dragon?"

  "Hey!" I glared at her.

  She turned to snarl back. "I hear you're a jail bird."

  "Yeah, well. I hear you're a slut." I stuck my chin in the air with that comeback. Her answering hiss told me I hit a nerve. Score one for me.

  Her head snapped around, dismissing me with a haughty shrug. "You've been avoiding me."

  I took the opportunity to have a seat on the chair and watch as the fireworks flew. Served him right for being a caveman to have to deal with the whiney shrew.

  He didn't answer, simply shrugged. Then his attention focused back on me, his gaze alone set my stomach into a slow, exquisite somersault.

  "I've lost something." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "Something vital. And, need your help finding it." Her eyes darted my direction but quickly returned to Meat.

  Yeah, she's lost something all right. What little brain cells that remained.

  Meat looked at her, his attention snared. "What is it?"

  Her shoulders relaxed, easing back, her spine rounded a bit, allowing her cleavage to bulge out farther. "The Talisman Stone," she answered quietly, lowering her head as if in shame.

  "You what?" His anger flew to the fore. "Do you have any idea what could happen if that got into the wrong hands?"

  I blinked and kept my mouth shut. Meat shifted gears, sparing me a quick look of resignation and regret. "I'll have to call a rain check."

  "I'm not going anywhere. I know about 'others'"—I did the quotation sign with my fingers—"so there is no need to shoo me off like a hungry bunny eyeing a tomato plant."

  Misha took offense. "This isn't human business, simpleton." She spun on her stilettos, adjusting the teeny black dress that barely covered her behind and endowed cleavage at the same time.

  "I'm dating a shifter, lackwit," I fired back.

  A throat cleared loudly, before Meat broke in. "Maybe she's right. It's better that you aren't a part of this."

  "What?" I gaped at him in surprise.

  He sighed heavily. "This involves some tightly held shape-shifter secrets. I don't want you in danger in case someone learns you have this knowledge."

  Oh, he didn't think I would actually buy that, did he? I stomped my foot for emphasis. "I don't care. We're a team."

  "Not this time," he announced with a firm voice that invited no argument.

  I gasped, hurt by his unyielding stance. He expected me to walk away leaving him with Marilyn the Octopus in this room while she gave him her piddley excuse as to how she lost this item? Knowing her manipulation, she created this whole scenario in order to steal his attentions back to her. Why couldn't he see that for himself? He must be using that southern brain again instead of the one with all the neurons that actually worked from time to time.

  Misha looked back and forth between Meat and I before tilting her head. "Trouble in paradise?"

  That comment stomped on my last nerve. "Listen, blonde bimbo…"

  "Shyanne!" Meat interjected with a severe frown.

  "Why doesn't she take this problem to her alpha, the leader of her clan? Why does she come to you, instead?" I flung back at him.

  "She is."

  "What?" I glanced from him to her and back again.

  He relented and offered up a quick explanation. "My father is actually the alpha of the Familia, our pack so to speak. By coming to me, she is taking this issue to the proper authority."

  My mouth dropped open. Nice of him to withhold this tidbit until now. "But you're a liger and she's a spotted something or other."

  Misha growled my direction. I ignored her.

  "Our Familia is quite varied and encompasses all species of cats." He stepped around the female shifter, using one hand to guide me to the dressing room door. "I'll call you later."

  "What?" I put on the brakes. "Oh, I don't think so."

  He growled, and I glowered right back. "I am not leaving you in here with… with…"

  "Shy!"

  "With that!"

  His eyes rolled. "Trust me." The low request carried sincerity and worked as well as a white flag. My shoulders slumped in resignation.

  Meat bent enough to nuzzle my cheek, then whispered softly, "If this wasn't so important…"

  I pulled back enough to meet his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

  A tender kiss to my forehead had my chin lifting for more. No sooner had those perfect lips covered my own, then a shrill voice interrupted.

  "Tyger, this is important, you know."

  I could hear her tapping one spiked heel on the wooden floor in irritation.

  "Promise me…"

  He placed an index finger over my lips. "As soon as I can."

  One small nudge later, I stood in the narrow hallway, looking at the closed dressing room door, and wondered if I just made the biggest mistake of my life.

  I tried to stand at the door with my ear plastered against the wood to hear the conversation. Too bad my boyfriend possessed an exceptional sense of hearing. My spying lasted about ten seconds before he opened the door and shooed me along with a promise of chocolate covered Meat later.

  Puffing out a breath, I entered the masses on the floor, heading to the far corner, where a tiny side table sat unoccupied. The very same table that Meat used to snare my attention and stir my intrigue. Something drew me to the sad and lonely piece of scrap wood.

  Plopping down, I debated the appropriate amount of time before I could barge back in. Despite the great temptation, I shoved the thought aside. They were both shifters, meaning they had long since teleported out of here and to wherever the blonde bimbo lost the all important item.

  "What's with the long face?"

  I startled, glancing up to find Ducian peering down at me. He wore the same tight jeans and solid black t-shirt that he pulled on in the dressing room earlier. "Nothing."

  "Uh oh." He quickly pulled out the sole remaining seat, flipped it around, before straddling the old creaky wood. Arms folded across the top as he relaxed. "Don't tell me he's still pissy with jealousy?"

  I shook my head, folding my fingers together on the table. "He has something more important to deal with right now. Misha."

  "Huh?" His eyebrows shot up. "What about her?"

  "Seems she lost something valuable… some rock. Anyway"—I waved my hand absently—"he rode off to the rescue with her."

  Ducian's head tilted as if sorting through the filing cabinet in his head. "Talisman Stone?"

  "Yeah, I think that's what he called it." I perked up. "You know something about it?"

  He nodded, giving a quick glance around. "Did they say where they were going?"

  Thinking, I shook my head. "She was closemouthed as a mouse trap and too busy flinging out insults to be informative." I sighed once more. "It's probably some big ruse to get him to her bed again." My hands fell to my lap.

  "Wanna find out?"

  "How?"

  A small smile teased the vampire's lips. "I have an idea. You in?"

  Grabbing my purse, I quickly stood, pulling on Ducian's arm. "Oh, yeah. Let's get the move on."

  Chapter 8

  A few minutes later, Ducian twisted a small metal tool into a lock, flipping it open.

  "I can't believe I'm doing this. Breaking and entering. I've been to jail once and it was scary. Those women have hairy toes and one eyebrow."

  "Shhhh," Ducian admonished. "If you shut up, don't touch anything, then no one will know we were here."

  I stared at the apartment door as it silently opened under the vampire's talented fingers. He nudged me quickly inside, glanced around the hallway once more, then followed. The door shut just as silently behind us.

  The living room screamed money and lavish spending. Leather furniture dotted the expansive living room, half circling around a la
rge fireplace on the west wall. Ceiling to floor glass panes on the east side lent a remarkable view of the city below. Neat and tidy, the room exuded a sense of precision and control. Nothing gave the briefest impression of warmth and coziness. Even the highly polished hardwood floors felt cold.

  Ducian treaded easily around the room, eyes flicking here and there. The limited light worked ideally for his vampire night vision. I, on the other hand, felt nearly blind as a bat. If it had been anything but a full moon night, I certainly would have been.

  "I can't see diddly squat." I picked a spot in the middle of the living room and stood like a statue, lest I touch anything.

  "Yeah, humans are such evolutionary simpletons." The low voice answered from across the vast space.

  Snorting, I took a few steps toward what appeared to be a small hallway. "You sure this stone is here?" A small lamp cast shadows across the area.

  He had explained vaguely what we were looking for on the ride over. A palm sized rock, about the size of a paper weight. The dark brown typical stone color would fool most. But flip it over and a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors shined brightly. Somehow these strands of minerals possessed some magical powers. That's as much as I understood, anyway. His babbling past that point about physics and ions read like a Stephen Hawkins novel on the Big Bang Theory.

  "No. But at least you know your tomcat isn't in her bed," he tossed over his shoulder, changed directions, and headed my way.

  Maybe not her bed, but there certainly wasn't a shortage of beds available in the city.

  "Prissy." Shaking his head, he surveyed the room.

  I considered his critique. The oversized comforter had square puffs sewn in, resembling a fluffy cloud. Four posts outlined the giant bed and resembled ancient Greek altar columns, complete with etchings.

  "White isn't in this year?" The bright starkness almost made one squint compared to the dark mahogany hardwood floors.

  "Nope. A man can't get down and dirty in such a place."

  Now that wasn't something I really wanted to consider.

  He pawed through one drawer, pulling out a scrap of panty, complete with a slice through the crotch area. White definitely must be her color of choice this year.

  "Maybe she's going for the virginal look." Ducian tossed the panties back in, closed the drawer, only to open the next one.

  I snorted, heading to what appeared to be a walk-in closet. "I have a feeling she's quite far from that."

  Pulling open the doors, I peered into a wardrobe to rival Jennifer Lopez. Stacks of shoes, almost every one high heeled, covered the floor. Dozens of colors represented a match to any and every clothing item she might choose for the day. Hangers filled with sparkly dresses in all shades and cuts hung for the taking. A few side accessories such as belts and shawls completed the fully packed area. A small pile of presumably dirty clothing sat in the far corner of her closet, the only similarities to an average person I saw in the entire apartment. Otherwise, the contents smacked of money and lots of it.

  "She could fund a whole third world country by just what's in here." Knowing nothing about fashion or designers, I could only calculate a very rough guess as to the value.

  A scuffling sound and low pitched voice came from the direction of the front door. My eyes widened in surprise and fear. Ducian rushed over, grabbed me by the waist, and literally shoved me into the closet. He immediately followed, wiggled into the small remaining space, and slid the door closed just as the front door bolt clicked.

  Oh, this just couldn't be happening. I could see the horrendous mess now when Misha and Meat discover not only Ducky and I together in Misha's apartment, but that we pawed through her undies, and attempted to spy on them. Certainly a ten on the relationship ender scale.

  Ducky stood partially in front of me, crammed against me in the small space. His butt rested against my hip as one elbow grazed my right breast with each breath. I could almost blame the touching on the lack of room until he half turned, sliding one hand on my rear, the other on my belly, his thumb pressed upward to brush across a nipple.

  Just great. Nothing like being felt up in someone else's closet while a hair's breadth from being caught. Fear kept my mouth shut despite the temptation to kick Ducian or call him petty names for the untimely fondling. I could almost feel his smile, completely understanding my predicament. The Neanderthal.

  His belly plastered against mine as he squeezed my bottom, using the other hand to cup my breast.

  I squirmed, twisting a tiny bit, just enough to snake away from his groping digits. Shoving, I wedged one hand between our bodies, just as he pulled us snug once more. Wiggling my fingers, I made a stark discovery. The hyena had trapped my right hand against a suspicious bulge in his snug jeans.

  Biting my lip, I gently probed the area. Ducian's breath caught as he gasped in my ear. His reaction dispelled my sock theory and solidified the awe inspiring natural endowment hypothesis.

  I spread my feet another couple inches for better balance, causing a piece of material to fall from the top of the dirty pile to rest on my nearly bare foot. A feeling of dampness caught my attention. What in the world? Gingerly feeling around by rotating my ankle, I came to a revelation.

  I stood on Misha's used thong.

  EWWWWWWWW. I would have to boil my sandals. Not to mention my poor toes. Cannibal wouldn't be nearly as interested in snacking on them knowing this. Nasty. I had Misha cooties on my feet. More than likely they would spread like poison ivy, leaving me red speckled, itchy, and in forced quarantine. I would probably end up with some funky kind of leprosy. They still exiled lepers to deserted islands, right? After waiting four years, and finally finding a good man, I would be tossed onto some life raft, set afloat to some island full of monkeys that threw poop, huge snakes that ate people, and all because of Misha cooties.

  The footsteps just outside my hiding place pulled my attention from leper-hood. A click sounded followed by a low light flooding the area outside our hiding place. Ducian pulled me snugly against his body, leaving my bright pink outfit in the deep shadows of his black material clad body. Biting my tongue, I waited for the inevitable.

  A hairy forearm rested against the slit between the closed closet doors. Peeking around Ducky's shoulder, I stared at it for a moment.

  How odd. A dime sized mole stood out about an inch from his elbow. The mole itself didn't catch my attention, but the dozen two inch long hairs growing out of it did. Icky. He probably needed to have that looked at by a professional. If nothing else, the mole detracted from his sex appeal. Most women would see the long hairs, shudder, and walk the other direction, limiting his date options to self love or blow up dolls.

  The catch on the closet rattled as he jiggled the far door.

  Holding my breath, I closed my eyes and pictured the front page news. 'Kinky couple caught in tryst, strangled with dirty bikini panties. More news at ten.'

  A cell phone ring broke through the pensive silence. The intruder faintly cursed under his breath, his steps growing quieter as he moved farther away. A few tense moments later, the front door opened and slid shut, the lock clicking back into place.

  Sighing, I nudged Ducky. Closets were way too small for my comfort. Not to mention the vampire sucked in all the oxygen, leaving me standing in Misha's used panties and breathing left over fumes.

  He whispered against my ear, "Stay put."

  "But…"

  He shook his head at me before focusing on the closet door. Taking his time, he slowly and quietly turned the knob, peeking out the door. After what seemed to be an eternity, he grabbed my hand, and tugged.

  "Quietly."

  Nodding, I followed, coming to a standstill at his back.

  Shutting the closet door behind us, he gestured for me to stay while he roamed the apartment. In only a minute he returned to my side. "Looks like he's gone."

  "Who was he anyway?"

  "Probably a hired treasure seeker." Ducian shrugged. "He's human. Either he's searching for th
e artifact for someone else or he knows a hell of a lot more than he should."

  "Do you think he'll come back after his call? Dare we look around more?"

  He shook his head. "We've seen enough. I really doubt the rock is there, it was a long shot to begin with. As far as the guy, I vote we're way gone just in case he does decide to return."

  Since the danger passed and we weren't returning to test our luck, I felt safe enough to slap at his arm. "No touchy the Shy parts!"

  He grinned wide enough to show fangs. A flash of something akin to amusement and satisfaction sparked in his eyes.

  Neanderthal. I swear. "Just what do you think you were doing?" I crossed my arms, tapped my toes, and glared at the unrepentant fangy.

  "Distracting you so you wouldn't give us away."

  Did he think I was born yesterday? "So the only distraction you could come up with was fondling my parts?"

  The dimple popped in his left cheek. "Yep. And it worked."

  Argh! Men. A step away from death and all they can think of is how they can get away with feeling up a girl. "Pervert."

  His eyebrow shot up. "That's not what the other women say about me."

  Blinking, I fell into the trap. "What do they say?"

  His gaze bore into mine as a lecherous grin appeared. "You want to find out firsthand?"

  Eek!

  * * * *

  Later, Ducian dropped me off back at the club.

  "You sure you don't want me to take you home? You can find out what the other women say in my bed." He rubbed my knee and grinned like a Cheshire cat.

  I smacked his hand, stuck my nose in the air, and turned on my best haughty tone. "I already know. Those women take one look at those fangs, and say 'oh, hell, no. I'm not getting anywhere near something that big.'"

  The hyena threw back his head and laughed. "You're right about one thing. They do say 'big'."

  Rolling my eyes, I climbed out of the car and headed into the club.

  I had no clue if Meat would have returned by now, be dancing, or too busy doing the horizontal mambo with Misha in some sleazy motel. So I took a chance on his at least returning to the club. Navigating around the women in lust, I headed for a quieter corner to catch a peek at the stage. Finding one, I stood on tiptoe and searched.

 

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