Dirty Deeds

by R. J. Blain

  “No, not at all. Hospital bills aren’t cheap. I got a lot of my medical bills cleared by allowing the CDC to observe how the virus interacted with my cancer and my fast maturation rate. I paid the rest off myself, although the bill was a token one, too. They just claimed ten percent of my income over three years as my share. At the time, I was making a big, bad three thousand a year doing miscellaneous work. I was dying, so there wasn’t much else to do—and they didn’t count my investments, which I’d been planning to leave for family and friends.”

  “Except you didn’t die.”

  “Right. I happily paid that medical bill. They probably felt you expected a bill and gave you one that you could easily afford. I doubt the ten dollars was actually easy for you to afford.”

  “It wasn’t, not precisely, but I paid it.”

  “The CDC tries, but it has issues. Still, I’m glad they took care of you. However, I question everything about the bounty you took. Can you tell me more about it?”

  “After the paperwork,” I promised, looking over the single sheet promising I’d be able to claw out of the hole I’d been in for far too long. “And you really mean for me to pay rent at my original income levels?”

  He handed me another sheet, which confirmed the amount of my monthly rent. “I wouldn’t back out on you on something like that, not when I saw your expression as you thought about it in your apartment. It was the look of somebody who was clueing in there was a good chance at a better future on the horizon. I’m an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole. And don’t defend my assholish tendencies. I am a single hybrid lycanthrope male. As such, I am an asshole.”

  As my virus could transform me into an epic asshole with the right provocation, I had no trouble believing Wayne could become one. “Make this easy on me. What are the catches?”

  “Well, you’ll be stuck working with me often. You’ll literally see me daily.”

  Crap. Daily? Monday through Friday would test me as it was, but daily? My virus stirred, considering the situation with interest. After a few moments, she determined all was right in her world and returned to her nap.

  Huh. I wondered if all lycanthropes enjoyed quiet moments when their virus wasn’t pitching a fit over something. “Does the bonus at the end of the year account for how many days in a row I have to put up with you without having a break?”

  “You’ll be seeing me daily.”

  “Vacations exist, and I will get to actually take one. But for purposes of my bonuses, we can assume daily into eternity.”

  Wayne chuckled. “Yes, your bonus will account for daily forced exposure to me. I’ll do my best to be generous with your yearly bonuses.”

  Considering I hadn’t had a bonus over two figures since I’d contracted lycanthropy, any bonus would make my holiday season cheerful and bright. “Does the bonus come right before Christmas?”

  “It can come any time of year you want, although we do usually issue them in November, as we’ve found families prefer having the extra funds available before the holidays.”

  “Oh.” It’d been so long since I’d had a family to do anything over the holidays with, I’d forgotten how November was even more ideal for most than right before Christmas. “That’s okay with me.”

  “Excellent. Read over everything. If you have questions or concerns, I’ll answer them. If you like what you’ve read, we’ll sign the documents, and I’ll send them to one of the secretaries who handles these documents for me, and it’ll be processed. I’ll flag your move-in date as immediately, so as soon as you’ve decided to release me from your custody, I’ll make arrangements for the movers.”

  “My landlord has a spare key. I can call him and tell him I’ve been cruelly coerced into moving out.” I read through the pages, skipping the standard lycanthropy waivers, to determine he’d been honest about the terms he’d proposed to convince me to leave my apartment for better waters. “If you make me regret this, I will go out of my way to make your daily life as horrible as possible.”

  “I’ll do my best to keep you from regretting your decision.”

  I held out my hand and waggled my fingers. “Pen.”

  He pulled a pen out of his briefcase and handed it over, and I started at the beginning of the document, initialing and signing as required until I reached the final page. Making a show of sighing, I signed on the final line and dated it before handing the papers over. “There. I have signed my soul over for good rent.”

  In record time, Wayne also signed the paperwork. Taking out his phone, he took pictures of the sheets before tapping at the screen. “And done.”

  Within a minute, his phone pinged.

  “And that’s the confirmation of receipt. I’ll give your landlord a call tonight and let him know about the situation. Are you really all right with movers going in and handling everything without you being there?”

  “I hate moving.”

  He chuckled. “Wise people do. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “But don’t I have to pay for it? They’ll make me give them money, and since we live in New York, it’ll be a lot of money.”

  “Normally, the answer would be yes, but in this case, the answer is no. And anyway, I paid for the other tenants’ moves during negotiations, but in your case, I’m paying for it because I want to. It also makes certain you’re moved out before we’re back from our little adventure.”

  “This adventure has sucked so far.” Not even the little hit of pixie dust could erase how much the so-called adventure had sucked. “I want to kill off those two idiots. They piss me off.”

  “They piss you off so much you’re cranky even with pixie dust, and that’s a feat considering how little you need to get a good buzz going.” Wayne went to my purse, picked it up, and set it on the coffee table in front of him. “At the risk of being murdered, I am going to look through your pixie dust stash to determine just how much trouble we could potentially get into tonight.”

  “I can make just about anyone my slave with the contents of my purse.”

  Wayne hesitated, eyeing my purse with interest. “You have my attention.”

  “I already made you a slave once today, Wayne. I do not need to make you a slave a second time today. And all you have to do to get that same result with me is give me a lower grade of pixie dust.”

  “You’re really susceptible to it, aren’t you?”

  “That’s one way to put it.”

  “If you want a hit of pixie dust to take the edge off, take what you want, and I’ll promise to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

  “I will cuddle you into a near-death state, Wayne. I am barred from it because I become a fiend in dire need of affection.”

  “I don’t see how this is a problem. I can put a movie on, you can get your cuddles in, and relax. We do things like that because we like it without the inclusion of pixie dust.”

  “You do not randomly cuddle with people.”

  “I see I will need to put the alpha of our pack on the phone with you for verification.”

  I frowned. “Who is the alpha?”

  “James. Here. I’ll call him, and he can talk to you.” Without waiting for me to agree, he dialed a number and held his phone to his ear. “Hey, James. What? No. I’m busy with some business. A lady I’m keeping company with has no experience with packs, and as I’m biased and she is uncertain I will give her an honest answer, could you take a few minutes to tell her about pack life? Particularly, she wants to know about how mated and unmated lycanthropes act when televisions are involved. Yes, you may as well. Yes. No, I didn’t mention that because I doubted she’d believe me. Here, I’m handing the phone over to her.”

  I eyed the device like it would bite me, but I took it, glared at Wayne, and asked, “Hello?”

  “Hello, Miss Gray.”

  I yelped, dropped his phone, and made it into the bathroom before I got a grip on my nerves. How did James know my name? Had Wayne texted him a warning? On second thought, I could
only assume James had told him we were meeting to discuss the lease, so it made sense for him to assume I was the so-called lady with him.

  Laughing, Wayne retrieved his cell. “Sorry, James. I don’t know what you told her, but you startled her right into the bathroom. Come back here, Joyce. I know you’ve had a long day, but he’s not going to do anything to you, especially not through the phone. James, she’s had a bad time around male lycanthropes. No, don’t put your mate on. I’d like her to be able to talk to you without jumping out of her skin.”

  Taking a few calming breaths, I emerged from the bathroom and held my hand out for the phone. Once I secured my grip on it, I took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry about that.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Miss Gray. Wayne said you’ve never had any experience with packs?”

  “I don’t. I was infected during an attack, and the CDC let me stay on my own because I haven’t hurt anybody.”

  “What do you want to know? Ask all of your questions. I’m happy to answer them.”

  “Wayne said lycanthropes cuddle.”

  “That’s absolutely correct. We do. There’s a bit of a dance if there is a courting couple participating in our movie night, as males and females alike get exceptionally jealous with minimal provocation. Wayne, as a chronically single hybrid male, typically attaches himself to any of the puppies around or to any couple who isn’t feeling amorous at the time. Sometimes the single males will get together in a pile, but because Wayne is a beta, he’s usually on his own more often than not. This makes him prone to whining. Once he starts whining, the mated females will often comfort him because he’s affectionate and has few outlets for his general tendencies.”

  I raised a brow and stared at Wayne. “He says you’re an affectionate cuddle fiend.”

  He shrugged. “There’s no point in denying the truth.”

  Huh. “So, if I put on a movie and sat on the couch, I would be cuddled?”

  “Possibly quite ruthlessly,” James replied. “Don’t get me wrong. He’ll be respectful of your limits, but he’ll accept any attention you give him. It’s a known problem with single lycanthropes. The virus makes us crave pack structure and attention, and a rogue wolf rarely does well alone. It’s harder for single lycanthropes, too, as the virus very much wires us to have permanent companionship. If you don’t want him in your space, tell him no. He’ll respect the boundaries you set. If you choose to lower your boundaries, you’ll have your hands full with an amorous lycanthrope male. The choice is up to you. We try to keep the final decision mutual, with the ladies typically making the first substantial move. But should you make any moves, expect to keep him around for life.”

  “I appreciate the warning. What should I expect from the pack?”

  “Wayne has spoken to us about your financial situation, although we were unaware of your past problems with male lycanthropes, so we’ll adjust to your needs on that front. The pack’s focus would be making certain you have a stable home environment. We’ll teach you what you should be eating, how much you should be eating, and essentially how we behave within the pack.”

  “I signed a five-year lease with Wayne. Was that a bad move?”

  James laughed. “Only if you can’t stand seeing him daily.”

  “I was notified I would be stuck seeing him daily before I signed the paperwork. For reasons I can’t understand, he wants to hire me as a secretary.”

  Wayne smirked.

  “You have the patience of a saint, a high tolerance for bullshit, and the ability to handle customers. Everything else you can learn.”

  “And here I believed working in fast food would never amount to anything.” I scowled at Wayne’s expression, which turned more and more pleased by the second. “Enlighten me. Why does Wayne look so damned smug?”

  “He is a single male lycanthrope alone in a hotel room with a single female lycanthrope who has not evicted him from her territory, and you haven’t barred him from showering you with attention. He is hopeful he will not be single for much longer. This translates to smugness in his specific case,” James replied with laughter in his voice. “While you’re unaware of this, you’ve been accidentally flirting with him by telling him no without driving him out of your territory. It’s a lycanthrope thing. Your virus is interested, correct?”

  Annoyed he’d judged my virus’s temperament accurately, I flipped my middle finger at Wayne. “She’s taking a nap because she’s happy right now. I wouldn’t call that interested.”

  “Sure, if you say so,” James replied.

  I appreciated that he didn’t openly call me out on my bullshit. “Do you actually need him back for any reason? He’s obnoxious.”

  “I would like him back in reasonably good health, although if you decide to drag him off somewhere for a week or two to appease your virus, I can live without him for that long. I do ask you return him in generally the same condition, although I’ll ignore if he’s unusually tired for some reason.”

  That caught my virus’s attention, and she liked the way James thought. “Anything else I should know?” I asked, hoping he figured out I didn’t actually want any other hints to do something completely inappropriate with a man I’d technically kidnapped despite his general willingness to cooperate without drugs.

  Crazy lycanthrope male.

  “That covers it. Pack life for you would start getting you used to people in your space with a general intent to cuddle with you or your mate. I am assuming you’ll hunt Wayne at your leisure, but if your leisure could happen sooner than later, we’d be appreciative and likely shower you with gifts for making our lives easier.”

  Well, I knew where James stood. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because that’s what we do. You’ll get used to it. If you have any more questions, give me a call.”

  “Do I have to call you if I opt against returning Wayne to you sometime this week?”

  “As I expect you’ll be too busy to bother with calling me, no. Just call if you keep him longer than a week, please. If you keep him longer than Wednesday, you might want to have him inform someone he’s alive and well.”

  I thought about it, pondering how much trouble I could get us in with an entire week to work with. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Have a good night, and if you’re not used to affection, yes, Wayne would be happy to simply cuddle close while watching a movie. Tell him your limits. He’ll respect them, so you have nothing to worry about. I know you have no reason to trust me, but I hope you do take advantage of what he can offer. We’re not meant to be alone. Your virus will appreciate it, and it’ll give you a good taste of pack life. Packs are family. We’re often strange and dysfunctional families, but that’s what we are at the end of the day.”

  James hung up on me, and I handed Wayne his phone. “He’s weird, isn’t he?”

  “At times. Are you planning to return me sometime this week, or should I suggest that my staff do their very best to survive without me for a while?”

  “I’ll think about it.” If he wanted more from me than that, he’d have to earn it.

  Chapter Seven

  Life rarely worked as I wanted.

  My wolf wanted Wayne’s clothes to have a terrible accident. Given ten minutes and a scrap of motivation, I would have agreed with her. Instead of a cuddle session with a movie, an ankle-biting corgi crashed through the hotel window with the tabby cat lycanthrope and the three wolves hot in pursuit.

  Pixie dust fixed a lot of problems, but it couldn’t solve five lycanthropes with no sense and a death wish. The pleasant high, as though I’d been wrapped in a warm, soft, and fluffy blanket, vanished without a trace and left only rage in its wake.

  Wayne, who had grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, sipped his drink, raised a brow, and observed the five furry assholes make a mess of the room, shaking glass out of their coats.

  “I still propose they write ‘too stupid to live’ on their death certificates, Joyce,” he said, sa
luting me with his wine glass. “Enjoy—”

  The corgi went for Wayne with bared teeth and snarls.

  My wolf took offense to her territory being violated, and before I realized what she was doing, she grabbed the perfume bottle and flung it in the cat’s face. The tabby yowled, hissed, and pawed at its face. Lunging off the couch, my wolf went for the corgi, grabbed him by his scruff, gave him a shake, and snarled so he could take a good look down our throat. My first breath confirmed I held the brute, which tripped my virus’s trigger.

  She wanted to paint the hotel with his blood.

  I saw no reason to stop her.

  She threw the corgi at the house cat, and the two crashed into the wall.

  The three wolves changed directions and lunged for me. I slashed the first across across the muzzle, and blood sprayed. The second got a hold of my left calf, hard enough I’d be limping for a few days even after transforming. Wayne sat straighter, and his eyes flared a bright yellow. With slow, deliberate movements, he loosened his tie.

  My wolf wanted me to stop everything to admire Wayne. Growling over her perverted tendencies and willingness to get us killed for some nice scenery, I reached down, grabbed the wolf by the scruff of his neck, and peeled him off. His teeth tore into me, but as he was in the way of giving my wolf a chance to admire Wayne stripping, I went the route of least resistance, flinging my arm out and slamming the bastard into the wall, stuffing him in and shoving down to keep him busy for a while.

  The wolf yipped.

  I reached into the hole and clobbered him on the head until he shut up.

  Wayne raised a brow and continued to loose his tie, as he regarded the other two wolves, who wisely retreated. “You really don’t want me to get involved, gentlemen.”

  The remaining wolves had enough sense to think about Wayne’s warning.

  But they lacked the sense to turn tail and run.

  They went for me again. My wolf approved, and as she wanted to take her frustrations out on them, I gave her full control.