Feral Dust Bunnies (Offbeat Crimes Book 4)

by Angel Martinez

“I don’t even know if I like him, Mom.” Wolf dropped his uniform shirt into the hamper and pulled on the recommended T-shirt. “I like him so far, but I don’t really know him yet. One lunch and some stuff at work.”

  “Then you’re that attracted to him. That he’s making your brain short out.”

  Half-bent over to retrieve his high-tops from the closet, Wolf froze. As he straightened up slowly, he had to wait for the bright flashing light of epiphany to calm down before he could answer. “That’s…yeah. It’s like being yanked underwater every time I see him. Like I can’t breathe. Can’t think. What if I screw this up, Mom?”

  “Then you screw it up.” She shrugged and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “It’s either going to work or it won’t. Even if it does, he might just want something casual. Be kind, be honest, and if you’re not sure, ask. Don’t worry about a question not sounding like a regular human one. He knows you’re not like other humans.”

  “So you’re saying calm down and stop acting like a mating-season crazed pup.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  Wolf gave her a crooked grin. “Didn’t have to. Thanks, Mom. I’ll try. I’m going.”

  “Did you feed Audacity?”

  He scooped his car keys from his nightstand. “She’s all set and sleeping in her box with octopus. I’ll try to be back before she gets hungry again.”

  After he’d said it, though, he had to make one last check to be sure. There she was, curled up with one of octopus’ purple legs clutched tight between her forepaws. Wolf managed to stop himself from stroking her soft baby fur, afraid he might wake the little troublemaker. But it was hard. She was so damn cute.

  The drive to Jason’s house in Northeast Philly wasn’t a bad one, especially after rush hour, and Wolf found himself charmed. The Winchester Park neighborhood lay nestled between the wooded arms of Pennypack Park, and Martindale Street where Jason lived was a collection of snug, older two-story houses on well-kept lots. Jason’s was one of the ones Mom would’ve called Cape Cods but Wolf always thought of as surprised-face houses since the pair of front dormer windows had always looked to him like wide open eyes.

  He eased his car into the narrow driveway. Jason’s car was nowhere in sight, probably tucked away in the detached garage set back from the house. Either that or he’d changed his mind and he wasn’t home. No, no, Jason wouldn’t do that. Probably not.

  Dogs barked from inside the house. Light spilled from one of the back windows into the yard. Wolf gathered himself with a deep breath and swung out of the car. He could do this. Wiping his palms on his jeans, he strode for the door, though he faltered and nearly missed the first step when the door swung open.

  “Hey there! Right on time.” Jason’s powerful shoulders barely fit in the doorway, his black T-shirt stretched tight across his barrel chest. He blocked most of the frame, one knee stopping a black canine nose from crossing the threshold. “Come on in before these chuckleheads decide they want to run into the street.”

  Four dogs danced and whined in the entryway as Wolf eased himself inside, careful not to tread on any paws. Four tails of different lengths wagged at him. Four noses at varying heights inspected him. Wolf crouched so he wasn’t towering over them and found himself eye to eye with an elegant brindled greyhound, a three-legged, white terrier mix the size of a Westie, a larger husky-shepherd mix and an eager little papillon. He petted and touched noses in greeting, more than happy to be surrounded by warm canine bodies.

  “You have a pack,” Wolf murmured, an aching longing pulling at his bones.

  “And they like you.” Jason laughed and took Wolf’s hand to pull him to his feet. “Not a single growl between them. Our lovely greyhound princess is Genevieve. That big guy on your right is Race.”

  “Because he likes to run?”

  “Well, he does, but I named him for the character on Jonny Quest. The papillon is Hecate, though she’ll answer to Hec, and the fluffy white dude trying to see how high he can jump is Mal.”

  “For Malcolm?”

  “For Malediction. He sounds like he’s cursing at anyone who comes up that walkway.”

  Wolf went back to petting offered heads, down to one hand since Jason still held the other one. After several noses butted him for his lagging attention, he realized he’d been standing there staring at their joined hands like an idiot.

  “Come on into the kitchen. Bet you’re starved.”

  Jason tugged him through the front room—peppered with cat and dog hair, littered with scattered clothes and dishes—toward the kitchen at the back of the house. The kitchen was better. There weren’t stacks of dirty dishes waiting to topple or mystery stains on the counters. It still gave off an air of impending disaster, just enough disorder that an exploding cabinet or two or a life-weary mug suddenly leaping to its doom wouldn’t have caught him by surprise. It didn’t really bother Wolf, not too much, but Mom would’ve been having fits.

  Something must’ve shown on his face though, since Jason said, “Sorry about the mess. With work and all these guys, I kinda let the housekeeping slide.”

  “Nah, it’s not a big deal. I used to sleep in the dirt.”

  “Great. That makes me feel tons better.” Jason’s sarcasm had a warmer quality than most people, so Wolf was nearly certain he wasn’t offended.

  “I got us Italian, since you liked the meatball sandwich so much the other day. There’s lasagna and sausage and peppers and some cheese ravioli on the counter. Help yourself.” Jason opened containers and shoved serving spoons in as he went before he turned to the fridge. “Beer? Milk? Water? Something stronger?”

  “Water’s good. Thanks.”

  “You don’t drink?”

  Wolf slid up onto the counter stool and closed his eyes to inhale. Everything smelled so amazing, he hoped he wasn’t going to start drooling. “I like beer sometimes. It, um, affects me more than humans…other humans? Can’t have one when I’m driving.”

  “Fair enough. Next question.” Jason plunked a bottle of water in front of him and took the stool beside Wolf, turning to face him. “I don’t even know if you have a first name. I know it says A. Wolf on your uniforms but I can’t just call you A.”

  “Everybody just calls me Wolf.”

  “Even your friends?” Jason piled his own plate high, though he still watched Wolf closely. “What does your mom call you?”

  “Alex.”

  “There. You do have a first name.”

  Those laugh crinkles were back at the corners of Jason’s eyes and heat crept up Wolf’s spine, trying to overload his brain. Damn it, he liked those crinkles.

  “Can I call you Alex, too?”

  “Um, sure?” It would sound strange, hearing it from someone besides Mom. Wolf didn’t think he really minded, though. Just…no one else had ever asked.

  “Thank you. Really.” Jason’s dark eyes held his fast, without challenge or mockery. It would’ve been easy to fall into their warmth and never surface. “Now eat. I can hear your stomach from here.”

  For several minutes, they did nothing but eat, Jason keeping up with Wolf without trying. Being able to eat with someone who relished his food made Wolf want to melt into a puddle of relief. Jason didn’t pick at his food, he devoured it. He didn’t slide disapproving and pointed looks Wolf’s way when he growled over his own food. To be fair, Mom was tolerant of the growling, too. She knew he had food anxiety issues. None of the other people he had dated had been as understanding.

  When they both slowed down, Wolf realized cat feet had joined the dog feet pattering around them.

  “Is that some kind of wild cat?” Wolf pointed at the orange and white tom twining around the legs of his stool. “He’s huge.”

  Jason reached down and picked the tom up with a grunt. “Nah. This is Tybalt, king of cats. He’s a Maine Coon, Norwegian forest mix. Was a cute fluffy kitten but his people didn’t realize he’d get so big.”

  “Then they got rid of him?”

  “Yeah.” />
  “That’s…awful.”

  Jason rubbed his face against Tybalt’s before putting him down. “People suck sometimes. Mostly because they don’t try to learn before they bring a pet home. The rest of the tribe are former strays. Silvio, Chu Chu, Camus, Juggernaut and Sparrow.”

  He pointed to a champagne tabby, a calico, a gray with white tips, a fluffy white and a tiny tuxedo cat as he named them. The tuxedo stood on hind legs to sniff at Wolf and let out a sound that was more chirp than meow.

  “Sparrow. Got it.” Wolf put his fork down, his plate scraped entirely clean.

  “Seconds?” Jason mirrored him and all the dogs got up, tails wagging, from where they’d been lounging on the floor.

  “No, I… I’m full.” Wolf looked longingly at the containers of food but it was true. He couldn’t eat another bite. That never happened on a date.

  “Great. This is when I usually take these chuckleheads for a walk but I can let them out to play in the yard.”

  “No!” Wolf nearly leaped off the stool. “I mean, a walk would be great. I’d love to walk with them. And you.”

  Jason’s eyes crinkled but he didn’t laugh as he retrieved leashes from beside the back door. The dogs went crazy, as expected, until Jason held a hand out, palm down and said, “Sit.”

  They all sat, all with tongues hanging out except for Genevieve who kept her mouth shut, trembling with excitement as Jason clipped leashes. He handed two leashes over to Wolf.

  “Here, you can take Gen and Mal. I’ll take trouble and more trouble.”

  Mal stared from Wolf to the leash, apparently deciding if he was a worthy walking companion. His stumpy tail started wagging again so he must have decided Wolf would do for now.

  “Does he keep up okay? Should I carry him?”

  “Alex wants to know if he should carry you, Mal. I think we’re just going to have to show him.”

  The little white tail wagged harder and all four dogs lunged for the front hallway when Jason whistled. Unprepared, Wolf jerked forward with them, managing to keep his feet and his dignity by a hair. The dogs calmed down outside, trotting down the sidewalk in a happy, well-behaved knot. Jason took them to the end of Martindale, through a couple of turns in the neighborhood and on to Welsh Road, soon surrounded by trees as the busy road bisected the park and crossed over Pennypack Creek. An inviting trail meandered into the park on the far side of the creek and the dogs obviously realized that sidewalk etiquette was no long required and they ran from one side of the trail to the other sniffing and exploring.

  “Does your family know?” Wolf asked after a few minutes.

  “That I walk the dogs in the park?”

  “No, um. That you’re gay.”

  Jason snickered and bumped shoulders with him. “Sorry. Teasing. They know. They mostly choose to ignore it. It’s not like I bring a lot of guys home to them and they just don’t talk about it.”

  “Isn’t that hard?”

  “Not really.” Jason bent to untangle Race’s leash from his leg. “We don’t talk about a lot of things. Like why I’m not a proper scientist like my sister. Or why I’m not a doctor like my brother. Or why I didn’t even become a veterinarian, which was what my parents always assumed would happen.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Wolf cringed when he asked the question certain Jason would be offended.

  Jason just smiled. “I like what I do. I’m doing something that needs to be done and needs someone like me doing it. Ambition just gives you ulcers. They don’t bug me about it anymore, just like they don’t bug me about getting married.”

  “Would you want to? Marry someone someday? I mean, um, I know not to a woman. But since two guys can now?”

  “Now that’s something I don’t really want to talk about right now, if it’s okay with you.”

  Embarrassed to have made Jason uncomfortable, Wolf lifted his head to sniff the breeze tugging at his hair and stopped in the middle of the path. An old excited thrill butterflied in his stomach. “I smell deer.”

  “There’s a small herd in the park. We don’t see them often since they probably hear the dog tags from a mile off.” Jason pulled Race back from a mud puddle, studiously not looking at Wolf. “Don’t take this wrong. Please. But do you feel like you need to chase one?”

  Wolf turned the question over a few times. No disgust or fear underscored the words and Jason wasn’t teasing. He could tell by now when Jason was teasing. Mostly. “I don’t need to. There’s part of me that still loves to run, loves the chase. Most of my squad mates hate it when a suspect runs. For me, there’s a thrill in running someone down. That’s probably not something I should tell anyone…”

  “I’m not judging.” Jason shot him a quicksilver smile, gone in the next instant behind a serious, earnest expression. “It’s part of you. You shouldn’t have to be ashamed of that.”

  Warmth radiated near Wolf’s arm and he realized Jason had drifted across the path to stand beside him with the dogs milling around them in a protective circle. “Thank you. I…I’m not going running after deer though. That’d be rude.”

  “Too bad. I think I’d like running with you.” Jason took the last step that put him directly in front of Wolf, only a sliver of twilight separating them as they breathed the same air, Jason’s scent pummeling every other smell the woods had to offer into the background.

  Jason reached up to cup Wolf’s jaw, fingertips stroking at the ends of his hair. “Alex, do you—”

  With a low rumble, Wolf cut him off by doing what he’d wanted to do since the first time Jason had been near enough to scent. He leaned in and ran his tongue down Jason’s throat. Gasping, Jason tightened his grip and yanked Wolf closer. Fine with him—easier licking access—and Jason tasted as good as he smelled, earthy and musky, his arousal rising around them like an enchanted fog.

  “Alex…Jesus…” Jason’s fingers tightened in his hair and pulled him back far enough so they could lean foreheads together, panting. “Do you kiss?”

  Wolf managed to choke off the pleased growling. Words. Right. Use words. “Sometimes. Have to…teeth…it’s…careful.”

  “Got it.” Jason ran a thumb over Wolf’s lower lip, urging his mouth open a fraction more. “Is it cliché to say, my, what sharp teeth you have?”

  “I think—” Wolf cleared his throat, his voice far too beastly and feral. “I think it’s big teeth if I remember right.”

  “Of course. Silly me.” Jason slid an arm around Wolf’s waist and pulled him in tight as he teased at the corner of Wolf’s mouth. “We’ll just have to be careful.”

  With a quick glance around to make sure the path was still clear, Wolf lowered his head to Jason’s seizing his lips with a desperation he normally reserved for his food. Arcing electrical current shot through his body in sharp spikes. His hands went to Jason’s waist as he licked along Jason’s lips, asking to be let in to his heat.

  Beside Jason, Race growled and Hecate whined. They didn’t jerk apart but they broke the kiss, both of them searching for what might have upset the dogs. Farther down the path where it curved out of sight, Wolf just made out the figure of a man in the dim light. He had the impression of someone old, someone whose smile was neither friendly nor kind, then the man was gone.

  He hadn’t walked away or stepped off the path. He was simply gone.

  “Jason, did you see that?”

  “What did you see?”

  “A man, I think. Down there.” Wolf pointed with his chin toward the spot. “He felt, I dunno, wrong.”

  Jason nodded, not questioning or disbelieving. “Well, it’s better not to be in the park when it gets too dark anyway. Let’s get these pups home.”

  If they walked back to the house a little faster than they’d strolled into the woods, neither of them mentioned it and the little house, waiting with its lights on, was a more comforting sight than it should have been.

  Chapter Six

  “It’s just turning into a monster.” Kyle ran both hands back through
his hair after hanging up the phone. “With fangs and claws and probably some tentacles, too.”

  “Perhaps in this case it should be labeled a momster,” Carrington offered as he passed by.

  Kyle let out a snort as he handed a note across the desk to Kash. “Oh, hilarious, Carr. Don’t give up your day job.”

  Only half-aware of the conversation until that point, Wolf looked up from giving Audacity her lunch bottle. “Someone’s mom is a monster?”

  “It’s just a metaphor that’s getting out of control,” Kash said.

  Wolf’s brain took a hard left turn imagining the news. “This just in—escaped metaphor loose on I-95. Residents are advised to avoid the area. Swat teams are responding. Film at eleven.”

  “For some reason, both my mother and Kyle’s think they need to, ah, discuss wedding plans with Kyle exclusively.”

  “That’s because I’m fabulous and actually have ideas and you just sit there like a lump,” Kyle grumbled.

  “Because I can’t get a word in edgewise.” Kash held up the note. “Shopping list?”

  “Yeah. Because now we have to have an engagement party, apparently.”

  One of Kash’s black eyebrows rose so fast Wolf thought it might fly off. “Your mother or mine? Or a collusion?”

  “Seems the aunties got involved.”

  Kash let out a heavy sigh, something he never did. “We’re doomed.”

  “Maybe you guys should just run away to Vegas,” Shira said with a concerned frown.

  “They’d kill us,” Kyle and Kash responded in unison.

  Krisk shot Wolf a wide-eyed look that was as alarmed as he could manage and Wolf shook his head. “It’s okay. They don’t really mean murder. Just mad. Probably ‘moms not speaking to them’ mad.”

  With a soft tail thump, Krisk subsided.

  “So, yeah, um, engagement party invites in your email, everybody,” Kyle called out to the squad room. “Sorry to whoever’s on duty this weekend.”

  “That would be us,” Jeff called back. “I expect cake on Monday or whatever good leftovers you have.”

  “You think the lieutenant would let you do the on call thing for a couple hours like we did for Carrington’s party?” Kyle asked.