by Kat Simons
But normal, sane people usually wanted to report near kidnappings to the authorities.
Jon shrugged. “Don’t want mom to find out.”
“We’re gonna have to tell your mother something.”
The boy’s expression turned stubborn, and just a little pouty.
She sighed and glanced around. “I don’t like standing out in the open like this.”
She had this odd feeling like they were being watched. Her Protector instincts weren’t detecting a threat to her charges anymore. But still, the sense of being studied made the skin between her shoulder blades crawl. No one was obviously paying attention to them. The street was still empty.
Probably just someone peeking out of their window. Finally. She wondered if the cops were already on the way.
“I suppose we could go back to my place and call your mother from there?” she suggested. At least going to her home meant they’d be able to lose anyone following them.
Jon gave her a sideways look. “How do I know your place is safe?”
She pursed her lips. Kid had a point. He didn’t know her any better than he’d known the men with the guns. “You want to wait somewhere public for your mother? You got a cellphone?”
Public wouldn’t keep them safe from determined kidnappers. This was a public street after all. Still, Jon had been through enough in the last ten minutes. She didn’t want to force him to go where he didn’t feel comfortable.
“Phone battery’s dead,” he mutter. “Where’s your cell?”
She grimaced. “I forgot it at home.” She’d been in too big a hurry to get out of the house. “I suppose we could ask to use someone’s phone. Or we could go to your mother’s work.”
“No,” Jon said hurriedly, raising a hand. “She’d get really pissed if I showed up at the hospital.” He shrugged and stared at his feet. “Your place’ll be fine.”
“You sure? I don’t want you going somewhere you feel uncomfortable. A coffee shop will have a phone.” More people to potentially have to protect, too. But she’d just have to deal with that.
Jon glanced at the leopard then back at his feet. Finally, he looked up and met her gaze. “I figure you’re all right. Even if you do like sweets.”
She laughed at his crooked smile. “Okay. My place it is then. And I promise not to force any chocolate on you.”
“Thanks.”
She looked around, realizing with some chagrin that she had no idea where Deacon’s SUV was parked. She glanced down at the leopard and raised her eyebrows in silent question. The leopard bumped her hand with his head then started off down the sidewalk. She fell into step beside him, hoping it wasn’t too obvious to Jon that she was following the lead of a wild animal—or what looked like a wild animal.
As Jonathon caught up to them, walking next to her on the opposite side from the leopard, she wondered if he could talk to Deacon in his animal form. Her curiosity nearly had her asking, but she wasn’t supposed to know yet that Jon had a supernatural talent. She’d have to wait to find out. Maybe Deacon could tell her if he’d been able to communicate with the boy.
They got lucky, making it all the way to the car without being spotted or stopped. Funny how quiet the street was. But she wasn’t about to argue with good luck, now that there was no one pointing a gun at her. Maybe Jaxer was doing some of his glamour mojo on the block. At least there were no siren-blaring cars screeching up to surround them.
Cary reached to open the car door, driver’s side since Deacon obviously couldn’t shift back to human at the moment, and was struck by yet another difficulty. No keys.
She could see Deacon hadn’t taken the time to lock the doors, but without the keys, they weren’t going anywhere. She glanced around and saw what looked like the ripped remains of Deacon’s clothes—though in such small pieces it was hard to tell the scraps had once been cotton and wool. She surreptitiously hunted for keys amongst the debris.
The leopard bumped her hand again and then swatted at something near the curb. Metal jingled. She scooped up the key fob and hoped Jon thought she’d just dropped it.
Deacon jumped in the driver’s side door and moved between the front seats to the back where he laid down, looking large, beautiful, terrifying, and anachronistic. She followed him in as Jon climbed in the passenger side. He glanced over his shoulder at the leopard, swallowed visibly, and settled at an angle in his seat facing Cary so he could keep an eye on the cat.
“He’s safe enough,” Cary said trying to reassure Jon as they both strapped on their seatbelts. “He won’t hurt you.”
Jon nodded but didn’t change positions. In the back, Deacon yawned, displaying an impressive array of large, white teeth, blinked at the kid with his golden eyes, then turned to look out the window.
She started the car and pulled away from the curb, trying not to wince at Deacon’s behavior. Men.
“What’s his name?” Jon asked after they’d driven a few blocks.
She hesitated. She couldn’t very well call him Deacon and then introduce Jon to the human Deacon. “I never call him by a name,” she said, hedging. “If I have to call him anything, it’s usually cat.”
Jon nodded. “Where’d you get him?”
“He just sort of followed me home.”
“From where? The zoo?”
Jonathon sounded incredulous, and she couldn’t blame him. As far as explanations went, “he followed me home” was pretty damned ridiculous. Instead of answering, she tried to change the subject. “Speaking of names, I never got yours. My name is Cary. Cary Redmond.”
“Jon.”
“Any idea what those guys wanted with you, Jon?” She needed to find out how much the kid knew. Maybe he’d even give her an opening to ask about his talent.
“Don’t know,” he mumbled, glancing back at the leopard. “Said their boss wanted to offer me a job. Knew mom was having money trouble. But I didn’t believe them.”
“Probably good you didn’t. Any idea what kind of job?”
He shrugged. “No. They never tried to explain before that one asshole grabbed me.”
She winced at his curse. “Yeah. I saw that part.”
“How come the fire didn’t burn us?”
Cary sighed. She knew that question was due, but she’d hoped to be home before he asked. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you all about it after we call your mother.”
“Are you a witch or something?”
“No. Not a witch. But something.”
“Cool.”
She grinned crookedly. Kids these days.
6
Cary pulled into her driveway, up to the closed garage, and turned off the engine. Jon was out of the car before she’d opened her door.
“How many dogs do you have?” he asked, staring at the one story cottage she called home.
The dogs were out back barking their greeting. She smiled. “Three. And there’s a cat around here somewhere, but Scratchy only deigns to visit when he feels like it.”
“What do the dogs think of your leopard?”
“Actually,” Cary said, looking at Deacon still sitting in the back seat of the SUV, “they get along.”
The fact that he’d gotten into her house, came to an understanding of some kind with them, and then they’d let him wander back to her bedroom all without sounding an alert was a pretty good sign. Even if she wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.
She started to follow Jon up the front walkway when the leopard growled. She glanced back. The big cat nudged a backpack on the seat next to him.
“Oh yeah, I guess you’ll need some clothes,” she murmured for Deacon’s ears only.
The leopard made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle and jumped out of the car, sauntering toward the house without hurry. She grabbed the backpack and followed her guests, glancing around and hoping none of her neighbors noticed.
“Hey, aren’t you worried those guys might have followed us?” Jonathon asked as she unlocked the front doo
r.
“Not really.” Not with the safety guard the Nags had put on her house.
If the bad guys tried to follow her, they’d just end up driving around the neighborhood, lost. The spell was a more advanced glamour than even Jaxer could perform. She still wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, just that it did—a bit like her Protector magic.
She had to give someone permission to find her home. The Nags did the same sort of thing for all Protectors so they would have at least one safe place, one place they would be protected. It also provided a good safe house if she needed it for a charge, a fringe benefit she doubted was an accident.
But she couldn’t very well tell Jonathon all that. No one except Jaxer knew. Like so much about her life, the fewer people who knew the specifics, the better.
So instead, she said, “I was watching the rearview mirror the whole time. No one followed us.”
Inside, Deacon strolled directly to the hallway that led to the bedrooms, while Jonathon went the opposite direction toward the kitchen and the back door where the dogs were going wild trying to get in.
Cary hesitated in the entryway, watching boy and leopard making themselves at home. She sighed.
From the kitchen, she heard the dogs come pouring inside, all barks and yipping and one deep basset hound woof from Pickles. A sudden silence fell. Then Jonathon came out of the kitchen with three dogs trailing behind. Fred was grinning, Pickles was trotting to keep up, her tongue hanging out, and Buck lumbered along behind, dark eyes bright and attentive.
“They’re really nice,” Jonathon said, stopping to squat down and pet them. The dogs instantly surrounded him. “They like you a lot, too.”
“Oh? How can you tell?” A perfect opening if the kid wanted to take it.
Jon shrugged. “They’re really healthy and everything. And they all look happy.”
Guess he didn’t want to spill his guts yet. She was going to have to get him to admit to his gift, but she didn’t want to scare him by admitting just how much she already knew. Maybe if she talked about the dogs more. Given the look on the boy’s face and the enraptured dog grins, she was sure Jon was talking to them while he sat quietly petting them.
Without looking up, he asked, “Where’d the leopard go?”
“Oh.” Oops, she’d nearly forgotten. Deacon had probably shifted back to human by now. He was sitting somewhere in the house, naked and waiting for his clothes, which she still carried in the backpack. “He’s, uhm… He’s in the bedroom. I’ll be back in a sec. I just need to make sure he’s, uh, settled. Make yourself at home. I’ve got milk and juice in the fridge.”
“Got any coffee?”
“You’re too young for coffee.” She stumbled toward the hallway. The thought of Deacon naked made her cheeks warm.
The reality of Deacon standing naked in her bedroom was even more mind-spinning than the thought. She closed the door behind her and tried to keep her attention on his face. Which proved to be almost impossible. Against her will, her gaze traveled down to his broad shoulders, his thickly muscled chest covered lightly in dark hair, the flat expanse of his stomach. She swallowed and tried to drag her gaze up.
“You realize,” Deacon said, “this is the second time in only a couple of days I’ve ruined a pair of jeans trying to save you.”
“Stop trying to save me, then,” she said, still unable to pull her gaze up to his face. All she could think was, wow.
She managed to keep her gaze from going below his waist, barely. But the longer he stood there, the weaker her willpower got. She should hand him his clothes. She really should. Any minute now. He needed to put his jeans on. Now, would be good.
But for some reason the bag still hung at her side, and her gaze still traveled over the impressive sight of his upper physique.
“I can’t help trying to save you,” he said. “You’re my mate. It’s what I’m supposed to do.”
“Yeah, but I’m the Protector.”
He took a few steps closer, and Cary sucked in a breath. She needed him dressed and she needed to get out of here. Why wasn’t he dressed yet? Oh yeah, the backpack. Still hanging loosely in her fingers.
She thrust the bag at him, using it to keep some distance between them. “If you want to keep any of your jeans intact, you’re going to need to learn not to…”
Her voice trailed off as Deacon stepped closer, ignoring the bag. He lowered his head close to hers. His breath washed hotly over her mouth.
“I don’t really… This is not…”
“I know.”
At least someone did because she couldn’t think anymore.
He dropped his lips to hers, and Cary thought her head might explode.
He tasted perfect. His mouth was hot, his lips firm, his possession complete. His tongue swept into her mouth, tangled with hers, and his hands clenched on her waist. The tight ball of lust in her stomach twisted tighter. She pressed against him, trying to relieve some of the building pressure. His backpack dropped from her fingers, making a dull thump on the carpeted floor.
Somewhere, someone who sounded suspiciously like her conscious ordered her to stop kissing this man and step away. Yes, he kept trying to protect her, which was really pretty sweet and infinitely better than trying to kill her. And yes, he looked amazing naked. But that didn’t mean she could just rush into this…this…whatever the hell this was.
Did it?
No, no, it didn’t. She needed to get to know him better, and she wanted to understand why he thought a human could be his mate.
She raised her hands to his shoulders intending to push him away and ended up digging her fingers into the hard muscle to anchor herself closer.
It was the strangest sensation to be standing fully dressed while he was completely naked, his hard cock pressed against her stomach through her clothes. The feeling was more erotic and overwhelming than anything she’d ever experienced. So strong, her knees weakened. Deacon’s grip tightened, holding her up. Then her senses spun and she realized he’d lifted her off the ground.
Whoa. She wasn’t a small girl, but he seemed to carry her like she weighed nothing at all. Knowing he could was amazingly sexy.
He sat down on the edge of the bed with her in his lap and pulled back, finally breaking the kiss, to meet her gaze. Cary stared back, trying to catch her breath while she figured out what had gotten into her.
“Uh,” she said after a minute.
He smiled. “My sentiments exactly.”
“What the hell is this between us?” Her behavior scared the crap out of her. She was used to being in better control of herself. Hell, control of herself was just good common sense in her profession. So why couldn’t she seem to control herself around him?
“It’s what happens with mates.” He set his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to kiss you until we’d spent more time together. But how am I supposed to resist you when you stare at me that way?”
Oh yeah right, this was all her fault. “Hard not to stare when you’re naked.”
His laugh sounded strained. “Glad you approve.”
Not exactly what she meant, but since he was right, she couldn’t really argue.
He lifted his head. “But since we still have a teenager in the other room, I think it best if we stop now. When we get to this part, I want to take my time with you.”
Her eyes nearly rolled back in her head at the thought of Deacon “taking his time” with her. Then the first part of his sentence sunk in. “Oh my god. Jonathon.” She started to climb to her feet, but he held her firmly in his lap.
“A few more minutes. Then I’ll get dressed and go officially meet our guest.”
She really didn’t want to stay put. Actually, she wanted to stay where she was for a very long time, and since that was a bad idea, she really really needed to get up. But his hold was very convincing. Maybe just a few minutes. That couldn’t hurt, right?
She was painfully aware of his still very erect cock pressing into
her hip. Sitting on his lap made it difficult not to drift into fantasies. “We’d better talk about something.”
“What?”
“Anything. Something distracting. Something that will make it easier for you to button your jeans in a few minutes.”
He laughed, the sound deep and resonant. Cary grinned. He had a wonderful laugh.
“Well,” he said. “This might help. I talked to my mother about you.”
“What? You did? When? Why?” Her voice cracked on the last word.
“I wanted her advice. She always said I’d lose most of the control I’ve spent years honing when I finally found my mate. I never believed her. Then I met you, and all those years of hard won discipline went out the window. So I asked her about the jealousy thing.”
“Jealousy thing? What jealousy thing?”
“The jealousy that overwhelms me when other men who are attracted to you are anywhere near you. Like Jaxer.”
She waved that away. “Jaxer is not attracted to me.”
“He is. And I want very much to rip his throat out for it.”
She shivered a little because he sounded very serious. “Trust me, he’s a flirt but there is nothing there. We’ve been working together for six years. If anything was ever going to happen between us, it would have already. I am not his type.”
“I’m not sure how you could not be his type.”
She opened her mouth to explain but he stopped her with a raised hand.
“Whether you believe it or not, it’s true. And the jealousy is incredibly difficult for me to handle. I’ve never experienced this kind of control slip before. My mother said it was natural. And would only get worse until we’d made love a few times. Actually, a lot.”
Her eyes widened. “You talked to your mother about having sex with me?”
“Not in specific detail,” he said dryly. “But according to her, mates have to make love quite a few times before the male feels secure enough in his claim to…regain control of his baser emotions.”
She just couldn’t talk to him about having lots of sex while he was still naked. Especially not in the same conversation that involved his mother.