Pack Justice (Nature of the Beast Book 1)

by RJ Blain

  I blinked at the clarity of my vision, took off the glasses, and squinted in my effort to make out the frames. They weren’t my regular glasses or one of my spares. “How’d you get my prescription?”

  Ramirez chuckled. “We searched your house until we found your most recent prescription, took it to your doctor along with my badge, and coerced him into pulling your file to have a pair made for you. That’s a nice thing about lawyers. You can always trust them to keep every last piece of paper dealing with their life in a logical location. You, however, have a fetish with hiding things in unusual places. Sorry, but we tore your house apart looking for your things. We put it back together again when we were finished, but you were remarkably thorough in hiding things.”

  A shiver ran through me, and making a soothing sound, Andrea leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Relax, Sean. We understand you were hiding things from Idette, which was smart and cautious of you.”

  “She’s just happy you hoarded every last scrap of paper dealing with her,” Ramirez commented. “You kept the oddest assortment of papers, Sean.”

  My embarrassment burned my cheeks. I had a habit of keeping all the business cards I received, as well as other relevant court papers. Andrea’s had found their way to the middle of the stack to minimize the chance of Idette locating them or into the fireplace if I already had a copy.

  The bottom was the first place most people looked when hunting for something hidden in a stack.

  If I had been smart, I would have thrown the cards and other papers away. It hadn’t just been Andrea’s papers I had stashed, either. I had kept at least one card or correspondence from every woman I had worked with in court because of my worry Idette would lash out. Once or twice a year when Idette had gone on a business trip or was visiting friends and family, I followed up on each and every one of the women to make certain they were all right.

  My fears had never materialized, but it hadn’t kept my paranoia at bay.

  O’Mallory cleared his throat. “When he’s ready to talk about it, he will. Until then, why don’t we just leave him alone? We have made a few guesses about your circumstances, Sean. We don’t need to know every little detail. We know you’re going to flinch whenever someone gets too close to your neck, although you will find we Fenerec are nippers. It’s part of our language, so to speak. When I bring you into the pack, my teeth are going to be on your throat. When Andrea’s grumpy at you and you’ve fucked up, her teeth are going to be on your throat. When she wants to take you to bed and—”

  Ramirez rammed her elbow into O’Mallory’s gut so hard he wheezed. “You will not finish that sentence, dear. We nip, Sean. Andrea will be the most frequent offender, and half of the time, she won’t even notice she’s done it until she’s nibbling on you. In public, we’re all on guard against that sort of behavior, but at home? It’s our basic instinct, as you’ll learn soon enough.”

  My stomach growled again. “At least I don’t think I need an instruction guide on Fenerec to figure this part out. I’ll even help cook.”

  Everyone laughed. Ramirez took pity on me and headed for the kitchen. “Food first, then we’ll sit and have a very long talk about your situation. You just stay there and keep Andrea company, Sean. Consider that your job until further notice.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Between the morphine and the bland broth masquerading as soup, I managed to keep firm control over my stomach. If anyone was expecting coherency out of me, however, they were going to be disappointed.

  All eating did was make the medicine work better, resulting in a complete disconnect between my head and my body. I discovered one perk of being drugged, and I intended to enjoy every moment of it.

  Andrea liked functioning as a pillow, and whenever I was with her, my spirit beasts kept calm and quiet. Suppressing the human side of me had been an intentional choice, but I hadn’t realized how well I had succeeded in my efforts until I was alone in my head.

  Without my spirit beasts dampening my humanity, the problems with my long-term disappearance surfaced, although I wasn’t equipped to deal with them.

  Morphine did far too good a job of fogging my head. I was aware of the conversation around me, but my focus came and went. I ultimately gave up, deciding I’d rather worry about breathing in Andrea’s scent than pay attention to Captain Ramirez or Judge O’Mallory.

  I’d probably regret it later.

  Later ended up being measured in days, most of which I spent either in bed, on the couch, or soaking in the jacuzzi, not that I was coherent enough to enjoy any of it. When I did finally come back to my senses, it was three in the morning, Andrea was asleep beside me, and my stomach was in dire need of food.

  I fumbled for my glasses on the nightstand, swallowing several yawns to avoid waking Andrea. Watching her sleep soothed my spirit beasts, and the faint smile on her lips reassured me. I liked to think she wanted to be with me, but I was content knowing she was at least having a pleasant dream.

  Slipping out of bed, I crept out of the room and to the kitchen to satisfy my stomach’s demand for food. The place was dark and quiet, and with my cheetah’s help, I located the light switch and flicked it on.

  Marcello was sprawled on the couch with one leg dangling off. If he rolled a little, he’d end up on the floor. The light didn’t seem to bother him, so I left it on. My first stop was the fridge for the coffee grinds. Arming myself with the French press and the kettle, I went to work, determined to make a cup of coffee without any help. I hovered over the stove, waiting for the telltale hiss to remove the kettle before the whistle woke everyone.

  Once my coffee was brewing, I returned to the fridge.

  “What are you doing up?” Marcello groaned from the couch.

  “Emptying the fridge,” I informed him, sorting through the assortment of foods waiting to fall prey to my appetite. A container labeled as stew became my first victim, and I set it on the counter. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “My job is to stand guard to prevent any escapes, which means I’m supposed to wake up when someone comes prowling down the hall,” my friend replied, rolling off the couch to join me in the kitchen. “Are you planning an escape?”

  “I’m planning on emptying the fridge and drinking coffee. I currently have no plans to stage an escape.”

  “Good. I approve of your plan and offer my services. How are you feeling?”

  “Starving, but otherwise good. If I’m drugged, I can’t tell. I don’t have a headache, and I don’t feel like I have to swallow every ten seconds to keep my stomach settled.” My leg wasn’t too sore, either, but I wasn’t going to commit to a positive report on it until I had a chance to stand up and walk around for a while longer.

  “I’m going to agree you don’t seem drugged. I actually understood you, which is an improvement from yesterday.” Marcello shook his head and rummaged through the refrigerator, emerging with several brown paper packages. “We’ll start with the basics. You’re a voracious carnivore now.”

  “Amazingly, I figured that part out on my own.”

  “You’re voracious enough that little side dish of stew is going to last all of two minutes and won’t make a dent in your appetite.”

  “I intend to savor every single bite,” I informed him, hunting down a pot large enough for the entire container. “I’ll even share if you’re hungry.”

  “Won’t last two minutes,” my friend replied, and I heard the challenge in his tone.

  “What are we wagering?”

  “If you win, I’ll play your guard wolf for a week.”

  “And if you win?”

  “You play my guard wolf for a week.” Marcello grinned at me. “To ensure you’re with one of us at all times, you’ll either be posing as a service animal or drug dog or one of us will be with you. We have dye to cover up your spots, and we’ll be giving your fur a trim so you resemble one of our usual breeds, although we’ll be claiming you’re a Tibetan mastiff mix.”

  I stared
at him with my mouth hanging open. “You’re joking, right?”

  “We’re still figuring out how to shift our patrol hours so one of us can stay with you at all times. Tomorrow’s going to be rough; Andrea has to go back to work. Since the fact you two have gotten cozy with each other is still a secret, you can’t go with her. That leaves the police station, since Judge O’Mallory can’t justify bringing you to the courthouse in any form, not until Wednesday at the earliest. A cheetah stands out a little too much, so you’ll be coming along as a wolf.”

  My spirit beasts, both of whom were listening, seemed intrigued by the idea while I dreaded it. “No one in their right mind is going to believe you.”

  “You’d be surprised. Most will buy you’re a mastiff crossbreed because they don’t believe Fenerec actually exist. There are those who won’t, but they won’t say anything because they don’t want to be accused of being crazy. Best of all? Those who don’t care if people think they’re crazy are assumed to be crazy—so no one believes the oversized dog is actually a wolf.” Marcello dug out a pair of bowls from the cupboard and set them on the counter. “I accept your offer of stew. Ramirez has been outdoing herself in her attempts to coax you into eating, and we have been enjoying her failed attempts.”

  “I live to serve.”

  “Your sarcasm seems to be alive and well.”

  “Does that mean I get to shed all over your couch?”

  “Pretty much. I get to keep you under close watch this week since I’m the fuck up who antagonized you into flying the coop.” Marcello checked the coffee, and satisfied with it, he poured us both a mug. “Idette and her posse have vanished, and until we pin them down, we’re keeping you as far under the radar as possible. Ramirez wants you back to work next week, though, to restore some sense of normality in your life.”

  “Work sounds good,” I admitted.

  While I had been running as a wolf or cheetah, work hadn’t even been a thought in my mind. I sucked in a breath. “That girl. Kimberly.”

  Marcello chuckled, sliding my mug of coffee to me. “That didn’t take you long. She’s fine. Mad as hell we confiscated her very illegal service dog, but she’ll be fine. We have her placed with a mated pair of Fenerec who don’t have any puppies of their own right now. They’re aware she was picked up by a puppy who might develop protective instincts, so they’re prepared to send her back to us if you feel the need to play father.”

  I froze, my eyes widening. “Come again?”

  “It isn’t uncommon, Sean. Becoming a Fenerec brings out a lot of instincts, and I had you pegged as a family man for years—I’m willing to bet you were having problems with Idette because you wanted kids and didn’t trust Idette to have them.”

  My face heated, and I spluttered, shaking my head. Turning my attention to the stove, I tried to pretend I hadn’t left a bed with Andrea sleeping in it. “Marcello,” I hissed.

  “Sean,” my friend replied, mocking my tone. “Give it up. We all know Andrea landed you. All of us have sensitive noses, and that sort of thing takes a bit of work to hide. If that wasn’t enough of a clue, she’s been glowing all week. Fuck, we’re just happy she finally got to sink her teeth into you after dancing around it for almost a decade. It’s been a shitty situation. We’ve all been of the opinion you were with the wrong woman all along, but damned if we didn’t respect your loyalty. O’Mallory told us how much he had to lean on you to get you to proceed with filing the divorce.”

  “Does everyone know about this?”

  “Just the Fenerec and witches, which puts it at around half of the Bureau. I think Ramirez is trying to coerce the uppers into arranging cases where you’re forced to challenge Andrea in court. She seems to think it’ll be funny watching you two dance around each other in public.”

  I groaned. “You’re killing me, Marcello.”

  “Okay, I’m lying. The exact opposite is true. Easy cases for at least a month—settlement type stuff whenever possible. You may end up with a rape case or two on the docket after the first week if you’re able to control your instincts. We do the same with police officers. Our pack is mid-sized, and most of us are involved with law enforcement in some capacity or another. James’s pack is pretty small; losing Andrea hurt him quite a bit, so that’s another problem we have to deal with. Ramirez is worried he’ll come after you to get his bitch back.”

  I clenched my teeth at the memory of the black and yellow wolf harassing Andrea. “I’d like to see him try.”

  “O’Mallory was the striped red and tan wolf, in case you were wondering.”

  “Why didn’t any of you stop him?”

  “Not our place, Sean. It’s yours, and you did a fine job of putting an end to his advances. If any of us had interfered, your wolf might have taken it as a challenge for her, which was the last thing we wanted. All we knew was that Andrea was anxious and came hunting for us, probably to help you. James made a move on her. At that point, we figured you were in the area, and it was just a matter of time before you showed up. If you tried to fight him and had problems, we planned to get involved to drive him off, but you didn’t need our help. Granted, we didn’t expect you to come around as a cheetah, but we all knew your scent, and while you were a feline, we recognized you immediately. Andrea made it pretty clear which male she wanted, and I have the feeling she isn’t picky what your shape is.”

  I considered his words, and after several long minutes of thinking it through, I nodded my agreement. “Okay, I follow. It makes sense.”

  “Your behavior confused us quite a bit, but we started figuring things out when we understood you have two sets of instincts to fight instead of our one. Andrea helped explain things after we had you tranquilized. The Inquisition is looking into how your situation will affect your behavior patterns, but we’re pretty sure you’re unique. We’ll figure it out. The Inquisition is eager to get you settled, since Andrea is pretty valuable as an attorney, and once you are back in full action, you’ll be a huge asset, too.”

  “So there’s no rules against one of our kind being an attorney?”

  “It’s a good career choice for one of us. A nice, bloodless hunt. Andrea’s exceptional since she’s pretty submissive. We were worried she wouldn’t shake out as a good attorney, but then she met you.”

  I poked at the stew to buy myself some time to think, but no matter how hard I thought about it, I didn’t understand what Marcello was talking about.

  One of the things I had always liked about Andrea was how good of an attorney she was.

  “Okay. What do you mean by that? She’s always been a good attorney, Marcello. Fuck, that’s one of the things I liked about her from the beginning. So many women come to the courthouse determined to prove they are no different from the men and stomp all over everyone in the process. All they end up doing is proving they lack a professional bearing in court. The good ones respect everyone—and are respected in the process. They’re tough, but in a good way.”

  “You didn’t see her before she met you. She’d cringe even when she was challenged by Normals.”

  “I like to think of it as being overly respectful, a little bit shy, and nervous about my work,” the attorney in question stated. I whirled around, as did Marcello. Andrea stood next to the refrigerator, her arms crossed over her chest. “I shook out just fine, thank you very much.”

  “Shit,” Marcello hissed. “Busted.”

  Andrea strode towards me, pinning me against the stove with her lithe body. “Stew? Good choice, Mr. Scott.” She reached around me, turned the burner off, and moved the pot. “It’s also bubbling, which means it’s ready.”

  While I was still hungry, I had a very difficult time paying any attention to my stomach with Andrea so close to me. I took a deep breath, enjoying the cinnamon of her scent. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Marcello woke me with his lecturing.” She leaned against me, smoothing my shirt with several strokes of her hands. “I wanted to make sure you were actually in here.”r />
  There was nothing wrong with my shirt, but I wasn’t going to complain if Andrea wanted to hunt down invisible wrinkles. I was tempted to slip my hands inside her bathrobe to find out if she was wearing anything beneath it. Instead, I rested my hands on her hips and relaxed under the influence of her attention.

  Marcello scowled. “I wasn’t going to let him escape.”

  “He’s very good at giving us the slip. He managed to sneak out of bed without me noticing.”

  Since they were both talking about me like I wasn’t present, I decided to join in, too. “He’s a jerk like that, wanting to let the pretty lady sleep when she looked so peaceful. Also, he’s hungry.”

  Andrea pulled free and bumped her hip against me to push me away from the stove. I got out of her way, hooking a stool with my foot and dragging it to me. “Apparently he can’t feed himself without an audience or help.”

  “He’s been pretty helpless the past week.” Marcello grabbed a stool and perched on it beside me. “You’re going to have to control your purring habit, Sean. You can’t do that in public.”

  I scowled. Purring in public was something I was already aware I couldn’t do, although I had gotten much better at producing the sound since becoming a Fenerec. My cheetah’s influence had strengthened thanks to his inability to manifest anywhere other than in my head. “But she makes it so hard not to. Look at her, Marcello. She’s beauty in motion. Purring is complimentary.”

  “It’s also a reflex exhibited by felines when injured, stressed, or otherwise under duress,” Andrea commented. “Your scent markers informed us you were not, in fact, complimenting me; you were comforting yourself during your incapacitation.”

  “She’s in lawyer mode now. You’re doomed, Sean.”

  “I object. There is insufficient evidence to support such a claim.”

  “Scientific fact, Mr. Scott,” Andrea murmured, setting a bowl of stew in front of me. She fetched one for herself and another for Marcello and took a seat beside me. “You can’t argue against scientific fact.”