by Susan Bliler
After forty-five minutes of tense driving, and constantly checking her rearview mirror to ensure she wasn’t being followed, Cindy pulled into her driveway, locked her car and was walking briskly to the door to her apartment when she heard a high-pitched whine. Stopping, she pulled her coat tighter against the chill as she scanned the area until her eyes caught sight of a large gray and black dog limping across the parking lot towards her.
“Hey, puppy.” Puppy her ass, the beast stood nearly to her waist. She bent slightly and held out her hand, praying it didn’t attack. “A-are you hurt, baby?”
The dog cautiously approached, reaching out his nose to cautiously sniff at her fingers.
It was a big dog, wolf-like, with deep-brown eyes. She’d read about wounded dogs, and knew they didn’t like to be touched, so she was more than a little concerned that he might turn on her. Regardless, she kept her hand steady as she inched it out further. She couldn’t leave an injured dog to fend for itself, no matter how intimidating it might look.
When the dog stepped close enough, she smoothed a hand over the coarse fur of his large head, then patted his neck before leaning down to inspect his leg. It appeared to be fine. She slid a hand over the round of the animal’s hip, all the way down to the paw. The dog didn’t whine or pull away. She lifted his back leg and checked to see if anything was embedded in his paw. Nothing there either, and of course he wasn’t wearing a collar.
“Baby, I don’t know what’s wrong.” She petted his neck. “Wanna come in? I bet you’re hungry.” She shivered. “And cold.”
She turned and unlocked her door with icy fingers before pushing it open wide and whistling at the dog. Her heart squeezed as he limped inside.
As she entered the apartment, she noted that the dog trotted easily down the entryway that led to her sitting room. “Hey,” she called after the animal. “What happened to your limp?”
She dropped her keys in a bowl that sat on the waist-high table just next to the door before turning and locking up, then following the dog down the hall. At the end, she looked left. Her empty TV stand sat against the far wall in front of a hunter green sofa and a worn, unmatching yellow love seat facing it. A scratched, second-hand coffee table sat in the center of the room.
No dog in there.
Straight down the hall was the bathroom and master bedroom, but she knew where the dog would be.
“Puppy?” She whistled once as she turned right and entered her small kitchen. A black pub-style table she’d picked up at a garage sale with two mismatched barstools sat against the far wall right next to her beat-up, avocado-green fridge that should have stayed in the 70s. A matching stove was nestled in the counter space just across from the fridge, and her sink sat under a tiny window at the back of the small room. Unfortunately, the space was too small to house the dishwasher that Cindy desperately wanted. Just as well, she couldn’t afford one anyway.
Scanning the room, she was surprised to find the dog wasn’t here either. She whistled again. “Hey you little faker, where’d ya go?”
She turned from her kitchen and strode to the end of the hall. Pushing the door to her bedroom fully open, she was shocked to find the large dog rolling in her bed.
“Hey! Get down, you mangy thing!” She clapped her hands and yelled at the dog, but he continued rubbing his face and neck on her bedding. Was he marking her bed with his scent?
“Great! I knew I should have left you outside, you stinkin’ fraud.” She couldn’t help but laugh as his head came up, his ears pricking towards her as his head tilted. It mirrored a gesture RedKnife had made earlier that evening. The similarity sent a shiver of awareness down her spine before she shook it off.
“I’m gonna call you Hoax you big phony.” She went to the door and snapped her fingers, “Now come on and let me feed you so I can kick you out. I’m tired.”
Much to her surprise, the dog hopped effortlessly from the bed and led the way down the hall with no sign of the injury he’d used to gain entrance to her apartment.
In the kitchen, she pulled a bag of tortilla chips from the cupboard before opening the fridge and retrieving a half-filled bag of shredded cheese, a small, browning head of lettuce, and a pound of ground venison she’d gotten from the community food bank. Eyeing the near-empty fridge, her spirits soared when she spotted a bottle of beer in the crisper drawer.
Yes! “Score one for the good guys.” She smiled as she retrieved the bottle and cracked the lid off. Taking a sip, she eyed the dog that watched her curiously. “I hope you like taco salad, Hoax.”
She pulled a skillet from a cupboard and fired up the stove before tossing the venison in, letting it sizzle as she washed her hands, retrieved a cutting board, and made quick work of dicing tomato and lettuce. When the meat was nearly browned, she added seasoning, her stomach growling in greedy anticipation. She smiled at Hoax as she tossed him tortilla chips, munching a few herself in between shredding and rinsing the head of old lettuce and opening her bag of cheese. “I’m starving, how ‘bout you?”
Ten minutes later, she was seated at her table enjoying her salsa-doused taco salad and cold beer as Hoax chomped hungrily at the bowl of taco meat she had sat next to a much larger bowl of fresh water. She wagged her fork at him, talking between bites. “I knew you’d like taco salad. You’re my kind of dog.”
Hoax stopped eating momentarily to stare up at her and lick his lips.
Cindy shoved another forkful of taco salad into her mouth as her thoughts meandered back to her encounter with RedKnife. Admittedly, she’d been nervous when he’d entered the bar, but when he’d wrapped a hand around her throat, then sneered at Monroe in such a fierce display of protection, she’d never wanted to belong to a man more badly in her life. Damn he’s sexy. The thought brought a wicked grin to her lips as she dreamed of that strong hand sliding from her throat to pull her close for an intimate kiss. The fantasy incited arousal at the prospect of the pleasure she knew she could find with the large, chiseled Sentry. She thought back to the day when she delivered food to Lilly in her room in the infirmary. RedKnife had been there, and she’d touched him without his permission. She remembered thinking he was sexy as hell then, too.
She jumped as Hoax, who’d abandoned his food to walk under the table, shoved his long snout into her crotch and began sniffing wildly. She shoved his head aside as she nearly choked on her food. “Christ, get outta there, you damn pervert.”
Hoax licked his lips; just as he’d done moments earlier as he enjoyed his food. Then he turned and sauntered back to his bowl before looking over his shoulder to stare at her with his big brown eyes.
Did I just blush for a dog? Cindy jumped again as the cell phone in her pocket began to vibrate. “Shit.” She fumbled as she slid her greasy fingers down the touchscreen to answer the call. “Hello?” She dropped her fork and pushed away from the table, listening intently to the voice on the other end of the line. “Now?” Her eyes dropped to the dainty watch on her wrist. “It’s nearly three in the morning. Come on Cody, you’ve gotta work with me here.” She barely noticed Hoax rising to his feet and pacing towards her, his ears pinned back. “Fuck! Fine, I’ll be there. Give me fifteen minutes.” She hung up and strode down the hall, leaving her dinner on the table as she grabbed her keys and turned to Hoax. “Stay and be good. And I mean it! I swear to God, if you shit in my house you’re a dead dog.” The door clicked shut behind her.
Chapter 7
RedKnife waited until she was gone before he shifted. Damn, her place was small. Too small. He was breaking out in a sweat just being in the place, but he fought back his anxiety and focused on what mattered.
Cody? Who in the fuck is that? Friend? Boyfriend? Lover? Leaning forward, he peeled back the curtain covering a small pane of glass on the side of the door. When her tail lights flickered at the end of the drive, he exited her apartment leaving the door unlocked behind him before he shifted to a large black hawk and took flight.
His wings beat a steady rhythm as he
was lifted higher and higher, following Cindy’s car easily. Thanks to the late hour, the roads were nearly empty, and he didn’t have to worry about losing sight of her.
After several long minutes, he spread his wings as he came in close to the ground and shifted in the dark woods, just outside the reach of the street lights that dotted the parking lot Cindy pulled into. Scenting the air, he was relieved no one else was nearby.
Shifting quickly to mule deer form, his ear pricked forward as Cindy exited her car and slammed her door, scowling at the sporty little red number parked in front of her own. RedKnife felt his hackles rise at the cocky grin of the male who stood leaning against the red sports car with his arms crossed.
“What’s so damn important it couldn’t wait until the morning?” Cindy didn’t approach. Instead, she mimicked his crossed arms as she leaned against her own car.
Smart. She was holding her ground, keeping a safe distance.
“First things first,” Cody challenged. “Do you have information for me or not?”
RedKnife’s brows drew together as he watched Cindy’s expression tighten, her arms dropping to her sides.
“Not yet.” She licked her lips nervously. “But I’ll get it.”
Cody shook his head, his expression darkening dangerously. “You’re lying to me.” He strode angrily toward her. In a flash, he grabbed her roughly by the arms and slammed her against her car.
RedKnife didn’t want to face the fact that she might be a traitor, a spy…a Megalya? The mere thought sent a shiver through him and had his teeth gnashing.
Megalya were the Walkers only known natural enemy, and RedKnife had spent some time up close and personal with the vile species upon his initial arrival in the state. His captivity was what caused his hatred of confinement. He prayed the woman wasn’t associated with them. If she were, Monroe would ask RedKnife to eliminate her. And he would. He’d learned the hard way not to not let personal feelings get in the way of what was in the best interest of his people, and he wouldn’t do so now, not even for her. His heart clenched at the thought of losing what he had yet to attempt to claim. Wait! Claim? He didn’t want to claim her! He wanted to help her, he owed her that much. And he definitely wanted to discover why her touch didn’t offend him, but he did not want to claim her.
His fury spiked when Cody slammed her against the car again. Her breath left her in a cloudy puff. It took all his strength to keep from rushing out and punching a hole through this Cody. Forcing himself to remain hidden, he listened.
Cindy curled back her lip and lifted both arms to shove at the man, but he didn’t budge. “Get your fucking hands off me!”
Cody pulled her forward before shoving her hard against the car again. This time, Cindy didn’t hesitate. She lifted a knee in a quick move, connecting with her sensitive target. Cody paled and dropped to the ground, sucking in air as his hands cupped his manhood.
“I told you I’d get what you wanted.” Cindy stepped over his prone body. “Give me some time, you ungrateful bastard.” She curled her hands into tight fists as she stood over him. “And like I said. Keep. Your. Hands. Off. Me!”
She was back in her car and driving away before Cody regained his composure. RedKnife held back, watching Cody struggle to his feet with a muttered, “Stupid bitch!” The words had RedKnife wanting to charge, but still, he waited and watched.
Cody limped to his car, bracing his hands on the hood before pulling a cell from his pocket. He swiped his finger across the screen, then touched it once before lifting it to his ear. “It’s a no go.”
RedKnife stepped closer, hoping to pick up the other end of the conversation. The distance didn’t make it possible.
“I-I don’t have it yet, but it’s coming.” Cody’s voice was reluctant. “She needs more time. What do you want me to do?” Cody shifted his sack and winced as he waited. “Look, I will get into StoneCrow, and then we’ll all be satisfied. My connection just needs a little more time is all. Be patient, and we’ll all get what we want.”
StoneCrow? No! RedKnife’s eyes flashed dangerously as he turned to the empty road where Cindy had disappeared. Fuck! She was trying to help this low-life infiltrate StoneCrow, and that couldn’t be allowed. He contacted Monroe through the mist, the Skin Walker’s telepathic means of communication, relaying what he’d seen and heard. Thankfully, Monroe didn’t ask why he’d been tailing Cindy in the first place, but as expected, he ordered RedKnife to stay on her and await orders. Damn! He should’ve stuck to his secluded mountainside.
***
Driving back to her apartment, Cindy fought angry tears. “What an ungrateful prick!” She spoke aloud, squeezing her steering wheel in a death grip before her anger finally burned itself out and she visibly deflated. She was tired. No, tired didn’t cut it. She was wore the hell out, and the last thing she needed was a run in with her sorry-ass brother.
God, what had she done? This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. This wasn’t what she had intended when she’d vowed to her dying mother to take care of her brother. “How did I let things get this far?” She shook her head dejectedly as shame seared her, her mind going to StoneCrow and its inhabitants. They’d been nothing but good to her, and worse, she knew they were hiding something there. Something that she was certain she wanted no part of, and something that could get her fool brother killed if she couldn’t redirect his ill intentions. And maybe herself as well.
“FUUUUUUCK!” She screamed at the dark road ahead of her, angry tears flooding her eyes. She liked StoneCrow, she liked the people there, and the last thing she wanted to do was hurt any of them. That was why she’d decided she wouldn’t. No matter what Cody thought, she’d never give him any Intel on StoneCrow Estates, and if her plan worked as she hoped, she would never need to.
Chapter 8
RedKnife waited impatiently for Cindy to return to her apartment. He’d beaten her home and let himself in before quickly shifting back to dog form.
The front door slammed open and he trotted out to greet Cindy as she slammed the door closed equally as hard before lifting her head to pin him with weary, red-rimmed eyes.
“Oh, Hoax.” She rushed to him, and for a second he bristled, unsure of her intentions.
When she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him to sob into his fur, he felt both worried and protective. Neither of which was the appropriate response to being hugged by a traitor. Swallowing hard, RedKnife attempted to harden his heart and steel himself against the pity he felt for this small woman.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whimpered. “I’m so fucking tired of this.” She rocked back on her heels and released him to swipe at her tear-stained cheeks before falling back and sprawling on the floor with her arms and legs spread wide as she frowned up at the ceiling, drawing in steadying breaths. “I hate my life.” She turned her head to him. “I wish I was a dog.” She rolled to her side to stare at him, leaning her head against her upraised palm. “We could run away, and all we’d have to worry about is each other….and food!” She rolled to her back again. “I like food.” She sighed again. “I miss food.”
Miss food? Suddenly, he remembered peeking into her fridge as she’d been preparing dinner. Aside from the measly ingredients she’d pulled out for her meal, it didn’t house much else, and that didn’t make sense.
He turned his head, eyeing her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. It was…a dive. Everything looked old and worn out. None of the furniture matched; hell, the two chairs at the miniscule table didn’t even match each other. Plus, she had no food? It dawned on him then. Cindy was poor, but that didn’t make sense. She worked full-time at StoneCrow, and he knew she was paid well. He eyed her apartment again. There’s no way in hell this place takes all her money. Hell, her rent couldn’t be more than a few hundred dollars for the ratty shithole. And he’d seen her car, so that wasn’t where her money went either.
Curious now, he scooted closer to her and inhaled as she lifted a hand to pet h
im absentmindedly. It wasn’t there. No mother’s strings attached her to any offspring, so she wasn’t paying child support. Funny, that the knowledge she had no children pleased him.
So where did all her money go?
After she’d covered for him with the detective at StoneCrow, he’d looked into her file. He knew she not only worked full-time at StoneCrow, but she also worked part-time as a bartender at one of the city’s pubs. Eyeing her nervously now, he scented her again, almost afraid to know. Relief flooded him at the absence of drugs in her system. She wasn’t an addict, and if the lone beer in her fridge was any indication, she didn’t have a drinking problem either. So what was left? Gambling?
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself!” Her sudden self-chastisement drew him from his reverie as he watched her hobble to her feet and head for the bathroom.
“Bring her in.”
Monroe StoneCrow’s command--shot to RedKnife through the mist--brooked no refusal, and RedKnife was more than a little annoyed with the directive. He’d contacted Mulholland, in his role of chief of security, with the hopes of no longer being involved. But now, watching Cindy pace her small apartment in clear distress, he felt his own agitation bubble forth at the knowledge that King wouldn’t be coming to relieve him, but to aid him in taking Ms. Sambrano back to StoneCrow for questioning.
Cindy’s voice carried to him from the bathroom. “How do I get myself into this shit?
Her words drew him from his reverie as he watched her retrieve a large carving knife from the kitchen before storming toward her bedroom.
RedKnife rolled his furry body to watch as she passed, her feet stuttered as she bent to pet his head. “Aww, Hoax. You won’t let anything happen to Mama, will you?”
Hell no, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Well, aside from him taking her in.
Getting up, he padded after her into the bedroom and watched as she set the large knife on her nightstand before turning to give him a humorless smile. “Just in case.”