Claws Bared

by Sheryl Nantus

  I silently agreed. Bran already had more scratches on his back than I could count.

  “Can you think of why anyone would kill him? Upset mates, jealous women, anything?” I tossed the ball in her lap. She had to have some level of seniority in the Pride to call Trace off so quickly. She knew the scuttlebutt. “You seem to know what’s going on ’round here. Anyone have a hankering to take his head off for a slight, real or imagined?” I glanced toward the clearing where we’d been only a few minutes ago. “Lose his temper over a lady?”

  Lisa brooded for a minute, forehead furrowed.

  I waited. At least she wasn’t delivering the usual Pride mantra.

  “Off the top of my head, no. It wasn’t like we all didn’t know who and what he was. He never played favorites.”

  “Did he know about the family?”

  Her head snapped up like I’d slapped her. “Hell, no. Rules are the same here as they are up there in Canada. We don’t tell anyone who we are.” Her eyes darted toward Bran, who sat at a nearby table working on his second beer. “But there’s always exceptions to the rule.” She studied my face. “Like yourself.”

  I didn’t fall for the derail. “Where were you the night Hansa died?”

  She crossed her legs. “I went to the evening show, dropped a few tens in his sweet, tight thong and then went home. Alone.”

  I cocked my head to one side. “Really. No boyfriend, no husband, no lover?”

  Lisa glanced at something over my right shoulder. “My work is my life.”

  “Of course it is.” I got to my feet and picked up my notebook. “Thanks for the help. I’ll be in touch if I have any more questions.”

  “No problem.” She paused for a second, biting on her lower lip before speaking. “Regarding your man. Might be a good idea to keep him contained. Trace doesn’t like to be taunted anywhere, much less in public.” Lisa stood up. “And I might not be around the next time they tangle.”

  She didn’t wait for an answer but headed for one of the small groups hanging around the fringes of the clearing.

  I slipped my coat on and tucked the notebook into one pocket. My heart was still racing and I wasn’t sure what to do next.

  Finding criminals was easy.

  Being in a relationship was hard.

  I headed for Bran’s table. A handful of Felis moved out of my way as if I had rabies. I couldn’t blame them—I might be a visitor from another Pride but I was definitely unwelcome.

  And at least one Felis here had good reason to fear me.

  The sun was setting, sending bright red lightning across the dying grey sky. A cool breeze came out of the forest carrying the scent of a dozen Felis and a hint of rabbit blood.

  I sat down opposite Brandon and said nothing.

  He dragged one fingernail across the wood, digging in and out of well-worn grooves.

  The silence lasted for a full minute.

  “I wanted to surprise you.” He spread his hands with a wry twist of his lips. “Surprise.”

  “Where’s Jazz?”

  “Being spoiled rotten by Dan. Told him to check in on her once a day and give her treats. I figure in the few hours I’ve been gone she’s wrestled a dozen treats from him.”

  I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands, fighting back the urge to cry. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Bran didn’t say anything.

  I intertwined my fingers, knotting my knuckles until they turned white. “Nothing happened. You have to believe me on this—nothing happened. We went for a run, nothing else.” I had to repeat it—I had to. “Nothing happened.”

  “I know.”

  The two words punched me in the chest, taking away the apologies I’d lined up. “What?”

  Bran smiled. “I trust you, Reb.” He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “It’s just that I show up and you’re all sweaty and hot, holding hands with Mr. Furry Face. Cue machismo meltdown.” He ran a hand through his short hair, a sheepish look replacing the stoic. “What they say about red hair and bad tempers—it’s true.”

  I felt a shiver of relief crawl down my spine. “I can believe it.”

  “Who is he, anyway?” Bran asked, trying to sound casual but I caught the tension in his voice.

  “My babysitter,” I answered. “Nephew of one of the Board members. He’s stuck being my shadow while I’m here.”

  I left out the marriage proposal.

  He looked over to where Lisa Darning stood with a group of other women, all of them avoiding looking our way.

  “Thank God that woman intervened before I started something I couldn’t win.” He shook his head.

  “I don’t know. I thought it was sort of sexy.” I shrugged.

  “Oh, really?” His lips twisted into a grin. “That I find hard to believe.” He got to his feet and reached out his hand. “I think it’s time for us to call it a night.”

  I looked around the compound. Someone had set up a bonfire and the kits sat around it with marshmallows and various types of meat stuck on sticks. Carson and McCallum had disappeared along with most of the adults. There was no sign of Plussey, if he’d even shown up.

  “I won’t find anything else here.” I winced as I took his hand, the sharp pain flashing across my shoulders. “And I think I pulled something.”

  “Really.” Bran couldn’t hold back the sarcasm. “When was the last time you went jogging? Did you stretch out beforehand?”

  “Ah...”

  “Right.” He nodded toward the parking lot. “Let’s get back to the hotel and I’ll give you a massage.”

  The headache behind my eyes popped like an overinflated balloon. “That sounds good.”

  “And then we can discuss who belongs to whom.” The stoic look returned, tempered with a bit of annoyance.

  The throbbing pain returned and brought friends.

  I spotted Trace sitting in his green pickup as we approached the parking lot, and decided to say nothing. I had enough trouble on my plate.

  He gave us a glance but didn’t say anything, didn’t move.

  I said a quiet prayer of thanks.

  Bran’s rental car turned out to be a flashy light blue convertible, hardly suitable for undercover work.

  “Couldn’t get anything louder?” I moved toward my own ride.

  “They did have an awesome Mini Cooper.” Bran chuckled. “I’ll follow you back to the hotel.”

  I spun out of the parking lot in a spew of gravel, Bran not too far behind. The cool night air rushed in through the open window. The pickup followed at a respectful distance as we drove through town, the majority of the town businesses closed and shuttered tight. The motel parking lot was nearly empty with a few stragglers hanging on for one more night.

  In the rearview mirror I watched the truck settle into the far corner of the lot, a goodly distance from our two cars.

  The young woman behind the counter didn’t look up as Bran and I walked through the lobby.

  I fumbled with the cardkey, trying three times before getting the light to turn green. Bran didn’t say anything.

  The room hadn’t been searched again. I considered it a small victory. The scent of the two thugs was weak and almost gone, a faint shadow on my tongue.

  Bran tossed his bag against the far wall. “Strip down and get in the shower. You need it.” The tone wasn’t threatening but definitely alpha male.

  The snapback was on my tongue but I resisted. He was right. My muscles were beginning to seize up and if I didn’t deal with them now I’d have a hell of a time moving tomorrow. My mind had been ready to run but my body hadn’t.

  Trace was lucky he hadn’t ended up carrying me back to the clearing.

  My cheeks felt hot at the memory. I’d walked right into that situation because I’d been so eager to be accepted again as a Felis.

  I wouldn’t get caught again.

  Bran hung up his coat. He turned and took mine, stripping it off my shoulders with a less-than-gentle touch.
r />   “Shower,” he repeated, with a trace of a threat in his voice.

  “Okay, okay.” I walked into the small bathroom, hearing the squeak of the bedsprings behind me. The television came on a second later, blaring some detective drama.

  I guessed I was showering alone.

  The fight wasn’t over, just on hiatus.

  The hot water helped ease the ache out of my bones but not out of my mind. The Pride was closing ranks to protect one of their own in proud Felis tradition. The dead man didn’t matter. All that they cared about was making sure no one got tagged for his death and pulled up for punishment.

  After all, it was only a human.

  I angled the shower head to pound on the back of my right shoulder, letting it work on an emerging nasty knot of muscles. The sliver of hotel soap washed the last bits of the run down the drain.

  Tilting my head back I filled my mouth with hot water, swishing it around before spitting it out. The headache was gone, chased away with the thoughts running through my mind.

  I couldn’t hold it against their Board; it was the Felis doctrine. Throw up the wall and deny everything to keep our secret.

  Except now I had to break down that wall and find the killer on the other side.

  I reached around with my left hand over my right shoulder to grab an itchy spot, straining as the muscles protested. Unable to get to it properly, I leaned back on the cheap plastic soap holder and shifted back and forth.

  I wouldn’t have this problem if Bran weren’t being stubborn. All I’d have to do is ask him to reach over and scratch...

  A seed of an idea blossomed at the back of my mind, cutting through the bullshit of the last hour.

  A cool puff of air broke through the steam. “Jess is on the phone. Should I tell her to call back?”

  “No.” I turned off the hot water. “Make small talk and I’ll be there in a second.”

  The answering snort told me how much time I had. I lunged for the hotel towel.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Hold the fuck on.” Bran barked into the receiver. He paused for a minute and I could imagine Jess’s short, curt response. “I’ve about had it with the Felis, thank you very much.”

  I stepped out, the towel wrapped around me and my long hair stuck to my bare back.

  Bran dropped the cell phone into my hand and lay down on the bed, studying the television screen with his back to me.

  “Jess.”

  “Sounds like trouble in paradise.”

  “Don’t screw with me right now,” I snapped. “I’m in no mood for it.”

  “What happened?” She sounded genuinely confused. “Bran’s yapping and making no sense. Tell me what’s going on.”

  I cleared my throat. “Remember you asked me if this Pride was too integrated with the humans? I’d say they were—big time.”

  Bran shifted his position but didn’t turn.

  “Do tell,” Jess said.

  “Every place has Felis working there. The hotel, the bars, everywhere. You can’t swing a dead cat without hitting family.”

  I could imagine Jess wincing at the mental image.

  “Okay, we figured that much. So what’s got your buddy’s panties in a bunch?”

  “Bran thought he’d sneak down and surprise me. The Pride was having their monthly get-together and I went on a run and—” I stumbled, feeling like I was confessing to a priest, “—this fellow, one they assigned to me as a babysitter, he ended up holding my hand and Bran showed up and...” I glanced over to Bran who was steadfastly ignoring me. “It got sorta heated.”

  “Clusterfuck central,” Jess replied. “Any blood?”

  “Not yet. A woman stepped in and chilled the situation. Trace backed off when she called him out on his bad manners.”

  I left out the part where I ended up between the two alphas trying to claim me.

  “Hmm,” Jess said. “Bad feelings all around.”

  I pulled the towel off and worked at drying my hair with one hand. “Sort of worked out well in a way. Found out Lisa Darning is not only a member on the town council but also a mover and shaker inside the Pride, the way she got Trace to back right off. Good to know that.” I paused for a second, deciding what to say next. “And she lied to me during our interview.”

  “What?” Jess’s tone was guarded. “She lied.”

  “Her eyes. When you look up and to the left you’re lying about something. Scientific tests show...”

  “She’s a fucking Felis, Reb. The rules don’t apply to us.”

  “She’s hiding something,” I growled back. “Believe it or not, but this is what I do for a living when I’m not running errands for you. I’ve seen people lie and she was lying to hide something from me.”

  “We’re all hiding something.” The low rolling anger in her words attacked me, made me want to go and curl up in a corner. “Even you. Something happened on that run, didn’t it?”

  I glanced at Bran, who sat on the edge of the bed. “This isn’t about me. It’s about a dead man called Mike Hansa.”

  “Then ignore the politics and do your job.”

  “I just want...”

  “I wanted a lot of things out of life, kit. I didn’t get them.” Jess’s tone changed to a lower, reprimanding one. “Just do your job. Find the killer, take ’er down. And don’t get caught holding hands with your babysitter.”

  My teeth ground together as I held back, staring at Bran’s back. I felt like I’d just been caught making out by my mother.

  Time to take charge of this conversation and put it back on track before I started asking her for mating advice.

  “I think this affair story is bullshit to try and lead me in the wrong direction.”

  “How are you figuring that?” Jess snapped back into neutral.

  Bran gave me a curious look, ignoring the television show. His eyebrows drew together as he frowned and shifted closer, almost within reach.

  “Hansa’s body had plenty of Felis scent all over him, plenty of women. No surprise there; the guy was a stripper. He’d get close to them, they pushed dollar bills in his thong and maybe got a kiss, a slap, whatever the situation warranted.”

  “I’m listening,” Jess said.

  So was Bran.

  “The theory was he got too cuddly with one of them. I’m not just talking a slap and tickle here and there, I’m talking about between the sheets. He gets too friendly with one of the women, gets some action in bed and gets taken out either by the woman herself or her mate.”

  “I’m familiar with the idea,” Jess droned. “Your point?”

  I locked eyes with Bran. “Hansa’s back was bare. Untouched. Practically pristine.”

  Bran frowned and turned toward me.

  Time to do a little groveling. Not that I was apologizing about the run or being with Trace—I’m a big girl and my life is my own. But it wouldn’t hurt to remind Bran he was still number one in my life.

  Tucking my damp hair behind my ears I wedged the phone against my neck and advanced on him. I knelt on the edge of the mattress next to Bran and unbuttoned his dress shirt. “Now you tell me, how many Felis men do you know with unscarred backs?”

  His eyes were wide but he didn’t move to stop me. A smirk replaced the confused expression as my hands slid down his bare skin, brushing against certain spots I knew were sensitive. He closed his eyes and bent his head back, pressing his lips together.

  Jess’s laugh vibrated against my cheek. “None.”

  “Right. So how did this guy end up without a single scratch mark? No Felis woman’s that gentle.” I slipped the shirt off Bran’s shoulders. He let it fall behind him, effectively trapping his arms in a fabric knot. He let out something between a grunt and a groan.

  “What was that?” Jess asked.

  “Nothing.” I moved behind Bran. My hand traced the numerous small scratches on his back. Even without Felis claws I’d left my mark on him.

  A trembling wave rippled across the exposed skin, his reaction to my tou
ch.

  “Pretty thin to build a theory on,” Jess said.

  “Very thin,” I admitted. “But I find it very improbable he managed to have an ongoing affair and be unscathed.”

  “So he wasn’t screwing with the women?” Jess said. “So who killed him? And why?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I don’t think it was from having an affair.”

  Bran shivered under my touch. The smirk evolved into a contented smile.

  “Hmm. Keep me updated.” Jess chuckled. “And be gentle on Bran while you make up. I hear humans break easily.”

  She broke the connection on her end. I tossed the cell phone to one side.

  “Wheels within wheels,” Bran said. He opened his eyes and looked at me. A feral look, a hungry stare pinning me where I knelt. “Be worse if your claws came out, eh?”

  I nodded. “Not quite needing stitches but bad enough. There’s no way he was bedding a Felis woman and staying untouched.”

  He moved toward me, stripping the shirt from his hands with little effort. His right hand came up, touching my shoulder and pushing me off the edge of the bed. “I want to know what you meant back there.”

  “What?” I took another step back as he rose from the mattress.

  “You don’t belong to anyone.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Pretty brassy statement.”

  “I meant it.” I tucked the towel around me.

  “So what’s the last three months been about?” Bran stripped the shirt from his hands and moved forward again. “Just killing time?”

  I felt the cool wall against my back. “You know it hasn’t.”

  “I know.” He pointed a finger at his chest. “But do you know?” He flung the shirt to the floor. “What you said out there, what was that supposed to mean?” His eyes were wide and dark. “What do you want from me? What do you want from us, from this? Where are we going?”

  I started to answer him and stopped.

  I couldn’t. I had no idea what to say.

  “Okay.” Bran drew a deep breath, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not going to press you now. We’re both too fucking wired, you’re working this case and it’s not a good time for big decisions. But I want to talk about this later, when things calm down.” His eyes locked with mine. “I told you when we started this relationship I wasn’t into one-night stands. I meant it.”