by Zoe Chant
She blinked and forced herself to look away from the pendant, and away from the stormcloud eyes gazing into hers. "It's not magic," she said "It's just a cheap trinket."
"If you say so," he said, which surprised her. She was expecting more of an argument. She wasn't used to being taken at her word like that.
"You believe me?"
He smiled. "I believe you haven't been given any reason to think it's magical. That's enough for me."
His hand was still cupped under hers, cradling her fingers in his palm. He'd leaned across the table to look more closely at the pendant, which meant his face was practically in her cleavage. She could smell his spicy, clean male scent, with light overtones of aftershave and shampoo.
Desire curled through her, pooling in her belly. Just being this close to him was sweet torment. She wanted to have his lips on hers, wanted to feel the touch of his firm body pressed against her own; it was like something was pulling her toward him, an undertow she had to keep struggling against.
She was less and less sure that she wanted to fight it at all.
Making a final effort to regain some personal space, she cleared her throat and pulled her hand out of his. He let her go, though his fingers brushed along the edge of hers, setting off answering sparks all up and down her nervous system. She looked away as she stuffed the pendant back into her T-shirt, but all that did was make her realize that he'd been getting a nice view down the top of her shirt into her cleavage.
Not that she minded.
It was increasingly difficult to concentrate on anything except her growing arousal. Her fingers felt cool where his hand had pressed, missing the warmth of his skin.
"I think these little guys are asleep," Ben said quietly, returning his hand to his lap where the kittens were nestled.
"Oh yeah ... yeah, let's put them back in their kennel for awhile."
She got up quickly and helped him with his kitten load, taking two of them out of his lap and trying very hard not to think about her own proximity to—Okay, kittens. Thinking about kittens.
"I keep thinking I should have done this before," Ben said as she put the kittens back on their soft blanket in their kennel, one by one.
"Done what before?" He was so close to her; their arms and hands brushed each time she took a kitten from him. "Protected young ladies from dragons? Does that make you a knight?"
His smile was warm and made his eyes crinkle. "No. Volunteered at an animal shelter. I've always gotten along well with cats, but my life is too busy for a pet. I never realized that I could just come in and ..."
"Cuddle some kittens?" she asked softly, taking the last little bit of orange fluff from his hands.
"Yeah."
His fingers lingered on hers. She found that her hand wanted to curl around his; her fingers wanted to nestle in his palm as the kittens had done. No wonder the kittens liked him, trusted him. She felt the same, an instinctive trust for him, as if her soul and his had already met in a past life ... or were fated to meet in this one.
He was handsome and strong and protective, and he loved cats. Heck, if she hadn't been hallucinating earlier, in some sense he was a cat.
Why the hell was she fighting this so hard?
"Tessa," he murmured, and she tilted her head back and gave in to the longing pulling her toward him.
His lips crashed onto hers. She leaned into him, opening her mouth into his, sliding her arms under his jacket to run her hands up and down the smooth plane of his back. A single kiss wasn't enough; she just wanted more, more, more.
It was like she'd been offered her first drink of water after a lifetime's thirst.
Their hands were all over each other; she sensed the same hunger, the same thirst in him. When she drew back, his pupils were blown, and he gazed at her with open wonder.
"That was—" she began.
"Amazing," he breathed.
And just then the door to the cage room opened, and one of the other volunteers leaned in. "Tessa? There's a—oh." She paused. "Sorry."
"Everything's fine," Tessa said quickly, as Ben straightened his shirt. "Did you need me for something?"
"There's someone outside to see you. He doesn't want to come in, and he didn't give a name."
Tessa was aware of Ben, at her shoulder, somehow becoming fiercer and more menacing, as if she could sense the panther in him. Some of the cats hissed.
"I'll be out in a minute," she called, and as soon as the other volunteer left, she smacked Ben in the chest with the back of her hand. "Cool it. It's probably just someone interested in volunteering. You don't really think a dragon assassin is going to try to murder me in broad daylight surrounded by witnesses, do you?"
"I don't know what he's capable of." Ben reached under his jacket to touch his gun. "Stay behind me."
"I'm not a damsel in distress," she scoffed, and marched out of the cage room.
Her bravado faltered as soon as she stepped out onto the street, and suddenly she was very glad of Ben at her back. Because there was something really not normal about this guy.
He was quietly leaning a shoulder against the wall near the door to the shelter. She'd never seen him before, but the first word that came to mind to describe him was sharp. He wore a black leather motorcycle jacket and his dark hair was swept back from a pointed widow's peak. His skin was a light golden brown; his dark eyes and high cheekbones hinted at, perhaps, some Asian or Native American ancestry. It was a similar racially mixed look to what she saw when she looked in the mirror. Not having known her parents, Tessa wasn't sure about her own ethnic background either; she thought it was probably just a little of this, a little of that.
An odd thought crossed her mind: could he be related to me?
But if so, he couldn't be a close relative—they didn't look that alike—and anyway, that was the only thing she had in common with this guy. He carried no visible weapons, but he looked dangerous. It was something in the way he carried himself, the balanced grace and confident strength. It was, in fact, very much like the way Ben stood, the way Ben moved.
"Tessa Davelos?" the stranger said, pushing himself off the wall.
Behind her, she felt Ben tense, and then he was shoving her out of the way and stepping in front of her.
The man in the motorcycle jacket tilted his head and looked at them both with a narrow-eyed, appraising stare. "My business is with the young lady. Please stand aside."
"The hell I will." Ben's teeth were bared; he was all but bristling. If he was a cat, Tessa could tell his fur would've been standing on end. "She's under my protection."
"Hey," Tessa said, sliding out from under his arm. "I can speak for myself, thanks. Who the heck are you?"
"My name is Reive," the stranger said, unruffled. "I have to say, you aren't what I was expecting. You're just a little scrap of a thing."
It was probably the first time she'd been called a little scrap of anything. "What were you expecting?" Tessa asked, baffled.
Ben moved forward, closing on Reive, who stood his ground. "Whatever you want with her, she knows nothing about it. You have no right to come after her, you dishonorable bastard."
The corner of Reive's mouth lifted in a very slight sneer, baring a flash of his teeth. "You speak of dishonor to me, when you are interfering in matters that concern you not at all? Stand aside."
"Ben, be careful," Tessa called.
She looked around anxiously. So far no one was paying much attention—one thing about living in the city, a couple of people having an argument on the sidewalk was the kind of thing you didn't get involved with.
Should she scream?
But what was she going to say? The stranger in the leather jacket wasn't threatening them in any obvious way. She trusted Ben with a conviction she still couldn't quite understand, but it wasn't like she could yell "Dragon! Help!" and expect people to take her seriously.
"I'm giving you one last chance," Ben said. He'd closed on Reive until the two of them stood face to face, Reive no
t backing down an inch. They were about the same height, somewhere in the neighborhood of six feet or so. "Turn around. Walk away. Leave her alone."
"Do you know what I am?" Reive asked coolly.
"I know exactly what you are, dragon."
Reive grimaced and glanced past Ben at the oblivious passing shoppers. That's his weakness, Tessa thought. He doesn't want anyone to know about him. And Ben knows it.
"Then you know that I can't," Reive said, turning his dark eyes back to Ben—unblinking, like the eyes of a snake. "I've been given a task by my clan and I am honorbound to carry it out. I must return to my clan with her mortal remains—"
Ben moved so fast it was unreal; to Tessa he was nothing but a blur. He seized Reive's arm, doubled it behind him, and used that grip to slam Reive into the wall. Reive didn't resist; he seemed too surprised.
"You're under arrest," Ben said flatly.
Reive gave a startled laugh, slightly choked because his head was twisted to the side, cheek pressed against the wall. "What?"
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you do or say—"
"You can't arrest me." Reive's thin lips curved in a slight smile. "Your mortal law has no hold over me. I can escape easily."
"Oh really?" Ben said. "You want to reveal yourself, then? Shift in front of a street full of, as you put it, mortals? Let's see you do that, then."
Reive gave a short, hard laugh, but he didn't move as Ben snapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrists. "May I ask what exactly you're arresting me for?"
"You made a death threat against the lady. Right in front of a cop."
"Ah," Reive said.
"Which makes me think you're the one who's been stalking and harassing her. Someone committed vandalism on her door and on the door of the shelter. How about we take a ride down to the station and talk about it?"
Reive turned to look at Tessa. She had to take a step back; it felt as if his cold, hard eyes were boring straight through her. "If you think this is going to make the slightest difference to the outcome," he said quietly, "then you are both fools."
Ben swung Reive around with an expert grip on his cuffed hands and shoulder, holding him firmly. "Ma'am, you want to press charges against this man?" His voice was a gruff cop voice, but his eyes said Please.
"Um," Tessa said. "Yes?"
"You heard her. Let's take a ride down to the station. Tessa," he said over his shoulder, "I'll be back in about an hour. Can you be ready to go when I get back?"
"Go where?" Tessa asked. Everything was out of control; her life had turned into a runaway train, and all she could do was stare at the scenery speeding past and wish she had the courage to jump off.
"Yes, go where?" Reive asked nastily.
"Shut up," Ben said, giving him a hard shake. "Tessa, tell your boss you're going to have to take a couple of days off. Family emergency, or—I don't care, make something up. Tell him it's a matter of life and death."
Tessa swallowed. "That's a lot of trust you're asking for," she said.
"I know," Ben said quietly.
"How charming," Reive remarked.
Ben shook him again. "Shut up."
But the crazy thing was, she did trust him. She trusted him enough to follow him into the unknown, believing that he would keep her safe.
"Yes, I'll talk to my boss," she said, pushing down her misgivings. If her life was a runaway train, from here on out she'd chosen to be on it. "Hurry back. I'll be waiting."
Chapter Six
"This won't work, you know," Reive said in an infuriatingly calm voice.
"What part of 'right to remain silent' do you not understand? Shut up back there."
Reive was in the back of Ben's car, still securely handcuffed as far as Ben could tell. So far he'd made no attempt to escape. Ben would have been less nervous if Reive had actually tried to escape, or shown any anxiety about being arrested at all. He'd been as calm as if the whole thing was his idea.
"All I have to do is call my clan's attorney. I'll be out in hours."
"Those are hours you won't be threatening her, so I'll call it a win." Ben glanced at him in the rear-view mirror, but Reive didn't seem to be squirming or trying to work on the cuffs. "Are you the only one, or did they send others?"
"I thought I was supposed to remain silent," Reive said, another tiny smile flickering at the corner of his mouth. "In order not to incriminate myself."
"Your lawyer's not here. Piss me off enough, and I'll pull this car over and make you answer my questions."
"Really? You want it to come to a physical fight? You know who'd win, right?"
"You might change your mind if I'm pushed into a corner," Ben said between his teeth.
"Oh really? What are you, anyway?" Reive leaned forward. "You know about us, so you're no ordinary human. I'd be able to tell if you were a dragon. Are you some kind of shifter?"
"None of your business."
"Hmph." Reive leaned back again. "You want me to answer your questions, but you won't answer mine? Tell you what, a question for a question. You tell me what you are and why you care what happens to that girl, and I'll tell you if I'm the only dragon on her trail."
"Sounds like you're getting the better end of that deal," Ben said tightly.
"Straight swap, then. A question for a question. What are you, detective?"
"I'm a panther shifter," Ben said. "Your turn. How many assassins did your clan send?"
"Just me. One is enough." Reive laughed softly. "A cat, are you? How appropriate. The cat, sent to protect the girl who loves cats."
A cold shiver went through Ben; his hands tightened on the steering wheel. "How long have you been watching her, bastard? How much do you know about her?"
"Is that your next question?"
"The thing I really need to know is why you're after her. She's only a human. She doesn't even know about your kind."
"If that's what you think," Reive said, "then she's lying to you."
Ben pulled up in front of the police station with a sharp jab to the brakes, jolting both of them forward in their seats. "She's not lying."
"You sure of that?"
Ben had to forcibly hold back his panther, pacing and furious at the slight to their mate. "What makes you say that?"
"No more free answers, kitty cat," Reive said, leaning back. "This is dragon business. Just let us take care of it. You can't beat me in a fight; you know that. Panther versus dragon? Don't make me laugh. If you stand aside and let me have the girl, my clan won't hold a grudge."
Ben's panther vibrated with rage, making his hands shake as he manhandled Reive out of the car, not very gently. "You won't lay a finger on her. You won't come near her. If you so much as look at her—"
"You'll do what, detective? Kill me? Oh, you do have it bad, don't you?"
"You don't know the half of it," Ben growled, propelling him into the police station.
Reive continued to be docile and cooperative during the booking process—suspiciously so, one might think, but Ben knew from dealing with his father that dragons usually were polite and cooperative ... right up to the point where they decided they'd been pushed too far, and that was when things got ugly.
But the biggest taboo in dragon culture, as with shifters, was breaking the veil of secrecy that kept them all safe. Ben was about as confident as he could be that Reive wouldn't try to shift in the middle of a police station, and so far it seemed he was right. Reive observed with curiosity as he was fingerprinted, and gave his name to the booking officer as Reive Corcoran, spelling it with fastidious precision.
"I'm allowed a phone call, correct?" he asked. "On television, one can make a phone call. I'd very much like to call my lawyer."
Ben couldn't come up with a good pretext for stopping him. Reive was right, his lawyer would have him out in hours. But at least this way, he and Tessa would get a head start.
His father would have laughed at him for trying to solve his problems using human law, human technology. They
can't protect us, the voice of his father whispered in his head. We are not like them. We solve our own problems, our way.
Yeah, maybe that's true, Ben thought as he strode out of the station after arranging a few days' personal leave. But apparently dragons are powerless to solve Tessa's problems because of their stupid honor. So I'm just going to have to use a little bit of human-style ingenuity to keep her safe.
It's all I've got.
***
"I'm so sorry," Tessa told her boss on the phone. "It's my mother, she's had a fall—we think she'll be all right, but I have to go out of town for a couple of days."
Inwardly she writhed with guilt. She never even told little white lies, normally. And the worst part was how understanding her boss was about it. As the shelter's adoption coordinator and office manager, she was one of their only paid employees. It might mean having to close the shelter to new adoptions for a little while.
And they were short on volunteers right now, too, she reflected as she hastily updated her records in the hope that the shelter could run smoothly without her for a few days. Normally she took up the slack when their animal-care volunteers were late or absent. The adult cats would be all right for a day or two with dry food and automatic waterers, but the kittens ...
They'd probably be okay physically, but they had been trapped as ferals, and they were doing so well at learning to trust and depend on humans. She'd worked so hard on it. Running off and leaving them felt like abandonment.
There was a soft-sided carrier in the shelter's supplies ...
A few minutes later, she was locking the door, with the softly mewing carrier sitting by her feet, a bag of kitten food and other supplies beside it. She'd canceled the next few days' adoption appointments and made the shelter as idiot-proof as it could be for her absence.
"Tessa!"
Melody ran across the street from the bookstore. She'd tied her dark hair up in a bun, as she usually did when she was working; that, combined with her gray cardigan, made her look even more like a stereotypical librarian than usual.