by RJ Blain
Jerome grimaced. “Ouch. How much is that going to ding them?”
“We dumped ten thousand down the drain making sure no one contracted Dale’s virus. They have a twenty-member pack, so it works out to a reasonable amount per person. It’s a token slap, but the boss thought it was necessary to remind them they really shouldn’t go hunting other lycanthropes and putting the public at general risk. It was her second shift as a hybrid, but her virus levels aren’t anywhere near as high as Dale’s.”
“All right. After we take care of this situation, we’ll do a proper pack hunt, and I’m expecting you to bring Dale out in a fur coat. I don’t care which version of his fur coat, but there will be no getting out of it or tagging along as a human anymore. Understood?”
“I hate you sometimes.”
Ethel scratched me behind my ears. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”
Jerome cackled. “Someone has to protect you, Dale. You fight like shit—and we’ll be addressing that problem starting on Friday morning before you go to work. You got your ass handed to you.”
Damn it. “It’s not like I get into many fights as a wolf.”
“You don’t get into any fights, period. You need to be able to protect yourself. We aren’t going to be able to hide you have access to the hybrid form for long, and that means you need to handle whatever anyone tosses your way. Friday morning at six. Go ahead and try to run. That’ll make this even more fun for me.”
Chapter Four
Ethel seemed more than ready to stake her claim on me in a very permanent and intimate way, but I had a mile-long list of things I needed to do first. In another rare show of solidarity, my virus agreed with me.
Miracles could happen—or my virus recognized I meant to accept her claim, but I’d do so under my own terms. Before I accepted everything she offered, I needed a proper home, one capable of handling two lycanthropes at their worst. I expected once I unleashed my virus and allowed her to do whatever she wanted with me, we’d cause a great deal of property damage. I doubted my apartment or her trailer would survive our enthusiasm.
The virus came with many benefits, and endurance topped most lists.
If we trashed the home I offered, repairing it would keep me busy and help contain the other problems associated with being infected with the virus. Despite Jerome’s teasing, I understood relationships took two, and while the virus would ensure loyalty to each other, it didn’t necessarily make for a happy home.
I wanted it all, and I wasn’t going to ruin it being an impatient idiot.
Investigating the CDC’s stance on mated pairs in the workplace would need to be done quietly; my boss’s boss would be the best resource, as it’d maintain the chain of command and make it clear to the CDC I was serious about her. I’d also have to work harder at not just thinking of her as my boss but as both my boss and Ethel. On that front, I expected few issues.
Escaping her would be the true challenge. Every time I turned around, she watched me with the sort of smile that made her difficult to resist.
But as she promised, she waited.
Her waiting made resisting her almost as difficult as her smile.
With a little help from Jerome, who showed up at her trailer in the evening and drove me out by force and with a few snarls, I got some much needed sleep in my own apartment. I’d never been so relieved to return to work, although my good mood didn’t last long.
Mr. Coolridge ambushed me the instant I walked through the office doors. “You lycanthropes really are tough, aren’t you?”
Why had I dodged Ethel’s attempts to claim me? If I’d just gone with it, we would’ve been cuddled together somewhere, somewhere far away from the mall and the unwanted interest of the mall’s head of security. “It’s one of the advantages of being infected, sir.”
“A regular man would still be in intensive care.” Mr. Coolridge circled me, making thoughtful noises in his throat. “There’s not even a bruise left on you. I’m impressed, son.”
In the future, I would go out of my way to remind myself there were far worse things in life than Ethel’s attention. I had no idea how I’d make the adjustment to having her in my life as more than my boss, but it beat dealing with Mr. Coolridge.
I cursed my professionalism and work ethic. Had I been a little more relaxed about my job, I would’ve come up with an excuse to turn around and head to my boss’s office, tail tucked and prepared to face her wrath.
Mr. Coolridge gave me a serious case of the creeps.
“Will being on the outside round tonight be a problem for you?”
If I got mauled by another lycanthrope again, I’d have a serious problem with it, but the rules of professionalism—and my job description—stated I wouldn’t express my misgivings over my assignment. “Not at all, sir.”
“Good. There’s a new jacket for you in the spare locker. Expect a busy day; we’re down two men for the afternoon and evening shifts.”
Quitting once again rose to a high priority. Monday with a full security roster had been busy. On a Thursday, I expected far worse. As perspective mattered, I took some consolation it wasn’t Friday or the weekend. “Understood, sir.”
“You’ll be at the food court until eight, then you’ll be making the exterior rounds. Have a good shift, Mr. Jameson.”
From past experience working security in shopping centers, the food court patrols were the ones most likely to sour. Rowdy teens often took the top spot for causing trouble, especially if they’d recently developed magical talents. Sometimes, their trouble was accidental in nature.
Where the weird and weirder gathered in large numbers, strange shit happened.
I’d consider it a win if I went through my shift without becoming petrified.
Unlike the rest of the security staff, I kept my personal possessions with me. My wallet had seen better days but had survived Monday’s excitement. My phone hadn’t, so I carried a loaner from the CDC until they replaced it, which would happen sometime next week. Despite having spent an entire day trying to give Ethel the slip and provoke her into seeing how far she’d go to keep me close, I hoped she’d call with a reassignment.
Until the rogue lycanthrope was caught, I’d be spending a lot of time at the mall. If my shift went as I expected, the chaos in the food court would exhaust me within an hour.
I put on the mall security jacket, grabbed a portable radio from the box, tested it to make certain it worked, and armed myself with a spray can of neutralizer and a billy club. I hoped I wouldn’t need either, but if I did, I’d be set.
Fighting as a wolf didn’t work out well for me, but I’d grown up playing baseball, had good aim, and enough strength to turn the stick into a lethal weapon if needed. It didn’t offer me peace of mind though, not in the way many claimed being armed did, but if something did go wrong, Jerome wouldn’t have another reason to tear strips out of my hide.
The food court was on the mall’s second level, a decent hike from the mall’s central hub. The majority of the shoppers were human—or at least looked human—which boded well for my shift. While humans could cause trouble, they often lacked the firepower of the other races. Incubi and succubi ranked fairly high on the list of troublemakers, but most liked their sort of trouble.
As most of the demons enjoyed freedom, they left unmated lycanthropes alone; they didn’t feel losing their freedom was worth the energy boost. However, mated lycanthropes were a different story altogether.
Succubi and incubi hunted for a pair of mated lycanthropes when it came time for them to reproduce, and as prime targets, most lycanthropes either avoided them or carried salt—not that salt was actually effective against demons. Devils, on the other hand, disliked salt. It wouldn’t stop a devil, but they’d think twice about making a move.
I really hoped I didn’t have to deal with demons or devils on my shift.
Laughter warned me of trouble in the food court, and one of the other security guards spotted me, shook his head, and intercepted m
e. “Coolridge sent you over? That bastard has it out for you. Good luck, Jameson. You’re going to need it.”
Kevin, or so his name tag declared, seemed younger than me and in a hurry to get the hell out of the area, which promised hell was about to break loose and it was going to be dumped entirely on my head. I sighed. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Any time. Call in if you can’t handle it. I give it ten minutes.”
I nodded, straightened my back, and prepared to wade into battle, turning the corner for a full view of the food court.
A naked gorgon tangoed with a lycanthrope who lacked the hybrid form but was doing his best to dance on his hind paws. Since the floor didn’t seem good enough for the pair, they took their fun to the tables. The gorgon wore tiny hoods on her snakes and a pair of sunglasses to prevent her partner from becoming petrified. Two horse centaurs gathered bets from the crowd observing the pairs antics.
I was impressed the tables didn’t collapse under their weight.
What the hell was I supposed to do about a nude gorgon dancing on a table with a wolf? Did I need to do anything? Everyone in the food court seemed happy enough. A crowd of at least fifty watched the pair, hooting catcalls and goading them into taking it further than a rowdy tango on the tables.
Damn it. No matter what I did, I’d piss someone off. No wonder Kevin had been eager to dump the mess on my lap. Why was my Thursday turning into another Monday from hell? I sighed, shook my head, and pushed through the crowd. “Excuse me, miss. If you could dance with your clothes on, that would be ideal. Also, if you break any of the tables, you’ll be responsible for paying for the replacements.”
The pair halted and stared at me, the gorgon’s mouth dropping open. She clutched the paws of her partner, as though afraid I’d claim him from her. I had no idea what she thought I’d be doing with a male lycanthrope, especially one who wasn’t a member of my pack. I arched a brow and waited.
“You’re not going to stop us?” she blurted.
“Unless you damage mall property or disturb other shoppers, I see no need to stop you, but I do request you put your clothes on. There might be children.”
“Clothes. That’s really all you want. You just want me to get dressed?”
“Please do try to avoid petrifying anyone. A call to the CDC would end your fun and likely result in a fine. As long as you keep it quiet, civil, and nonviolent, I see no reason why you can’t tango to your heart’s content.”
If I got fired, I’d get fired for doing something amusing for once in my career. I’d have a really interesting report to file, but a chance to watch Ethel’s expression as she realized I’d tossed common sense to the four winds would be worth it. If my decision to toe every last one of her lines didn’t trip her trigger, I’d be cautiously optimistic about having a bright and long future with her.
I’d never truly tested her limits.
I’d never viewed it as an option before.
A cautious wolf lived longer, but games were a way of life for lycanthropes, and I had every intention of pushing Ethel’s buttons to discover what would happen.
The gorgon giggled. “Want to dance, handsome?”
“Sorry, miss. I’m seeing someone.” I toed the line with the truth, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t remember when Ethel had ruined me for other women—of any species—but I decided it didn’t matter. I liked being ruined for other women, and it wasn’t just my virus’s fault.
I’d been born that way. I blamed my mother for it more than my father. My mother was the jealous type and hated when anyone other than my father got too close to her, and according to every gossip I knew, she’d been that way before contracting the lycanthropy virus from my father.
“That’s no fun. You sure?”
“I’m sure. Try not to break any laws; I’d be forced to act.” I glared at the congregation of spectators, leveling a glare at a table loaded with pixies. “No dusting.” I just shook my head at the centaurs; they were likely wise enough they should at least attempt to hide their illegal gambling operation. The lycanthrope got the majority of my scrutiny. “No spreading the lycanthropy virus. In fact, none of you do anything that requires neutralizer, please.”
Already regretting my decision to ignore the odd party, I pointed to the far side of the food court. “I’ll be over there. Please don’t need me for anything.”
A full gorgon hive, including a herd of young children, joined the party, and they had two males with them. The middle-aged one was likely the hive’s leader and the father of the herd, as the children clung to him while the mature females joined in the festivities. The other male looked like he already had one foot in the grave and wanted to watch the world burn before he gave up the ghost.
The children enjoyed crawling over the males, who stood on guard.
The tables that weren’t bolted down had been relocated to the sides along with the chairs, allowing the hungry shoppers to dine with a good view of the mass of people determined to get in exercise on mall grounds.
To add to the chaos, as my day obviously hadn’t been chaotic enough, members of my pack decided to show up and transform into mall butterflies. As if being on security duty at the mall in the midst of a gorgon-infested dance party wasn’t bad enough, both of the pack’s other betas and their mates showed up. Sullivan and Marie would leave me alone unless I wandered too close; he didn’t want to give me a chance to practice my sarcasm on him, and she didn’t want to listen to Sullivan whine about my refusal to cater to her mate’s delicate sensibilities.
Dan would be the problem, as he never saw a reason to take mercy or pity on anyone, and Helen would encourage him.
The pair locked on and headed straight for me.
If I ran, Dan would chase me, Sullivan would howl his laughter, and the ladies would waste no time spreading the word I was viable prey for the pack. “Whatever it is you want, the answer is no. I’m working.”
Launching the opening volley probably wouldn’t save me, but I’d hope for the best.
“You’ve been putting the moves on Ethel, so says Jerome. You don’t mess around when you pick a lady, do you?”
“I haven’t put any moves on anyone.” If Dan wanted to believe I was the instigator—something I would be, given time—it’d throw him off my trail for a few minutes.
“You slept in her bed. Every single male in the pack is burning with jealousy right now, especially after Ethel ripped Dana a new ass earlier today. You may as well buy yourself a collar and leash, man. You’re owned.”
If I ignored most of Dan’s commentary, I might escape unscathed. “I had a hell shift and a mauling, and as she dosed me with high grade pixie dust, she was responsible for making certain I stayed out of trouble. She decided her place was a suitable containment cell. Don’t make something out of nothing.”
“You’re not getting away with that this time. I asked her myself. She’s on the warpath to claim you. Good luck escaping. Once a bitch picks her male, she doesn’t quit. You’re being hunted. We’ve decided we’re going to help her.” Dan grinned and punched my arm hard enough to stagger me. “We’ve also been told if we so much as giggle over your fur, Jerome will be testing out various wolf stew recipes.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear today.”
“We’ve seen pictures of you in various stages of passed out with Ethel standing guard and snarling for the camera. You’re going to be even more effective as a beta now, and that disgusts me.”
That was news to me. “Why would you say that?”
“You’re joking, right? No one wants to pick a fight with Ethel. She’s mean.”
She was? While Ethel’s work in the CDC put her into contact with most of the local packs, I’d never heard anything but compliments about her. I arched a brow, kept an eye on the dance party taking the food court by storm, and waited.
“Dale, she’s a lycanthrope who wears wolfsbane perfume. She’s crazy.”
“You didn’t even know she was a lycanthrope
until this week.”
“Not true. She’s got a gorgeous white coat and a hobby of bloodying amorous males because she’s only interested in you.”
While I liked that Ethel wasn’t shy about staking her claim on me, I wanted to strangle my co-beta into unconsciousness so he’d leave me alone so I could work in peace. “You do realize I’m working, right? Unless you want Ethel coming over here and killing me for slacking off on the job, go away.”
“You’re watching a bunch of gorgons dance. I mean, in your shoes, I’d just let them dance, too. You’ve already been petrified once this week. And pixie dusted. And mauled at the mall.”
“If I buy you a leash, would you contain him, Helen? Please?”
“And lose my chance to have fun at your expense? Never. I never even dreamed you were interested in Ethel of all people.”
“And why do you think I’m interested in Ethel?”
“You took six bags of our alphas’ blood, got hopped up on the virus, and wrapped yourself around her legs. When she scratched your chin, you melted into a vaguely Dale-shaped puddle. You then slept like a rock at her trailer, requiring Jerome to go over and prod you awake. There’s no way you’d do that unless everything was perfect in your little world. We’re making bets over how long it’ll take her to catch you.”
I sighed. “You’re not going to stop, are you?”
“Not until you’re happily mated.”
Why me? “Fine. I have things to do first, like finding a better place to live.”
“I’ll tell Clyde. He’ll find you a good place. Ethel’s a bit of a skinflint, so she won’t even think about needing a bigger place. Obviously, you’re the sensible half of the pairing. Plan for at least one kid. Ethel gets stars in her eyes when there are little ones under foot.”
“Any other unasked for advice, Helen?” I’d have to thank Ethel for the phrasing of that question later.