Claws Bared

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Claws Bared Page 22

by Sheryl Nantus


  “He almost killed me,” Bran said in a low tone, almost a growl.

  “True,” Lisa agreed. “But that’s just the official punishment.” She glanced toward the window. “April’s left him. He’s lost his position in the Pride and his job. He’ll probably end up running odd jobs on the farm for a living.” She eyed Bran. “I know it’s not what you want but it’ll have to be enough.”

  Bran shifted and I felt his leg bob up and down, the nervous rubbing daring me to act.

  “And Sophia?” I placed my hand on his knee and began a slow, steady stroke. The muscles clenched and unclenched under my touch, sending a tingling up my fingers as I remembered the workout they’d been given last night.

  “She’s going down for involuntary manslaughter, at the worst.” Plussey studied his coffee, holding the mug close to his mouth. “Prosser’s not thrilled but without evidence that Martin intended to kill Hancock there’s little chance of getting a first-degree murder conviction. Woman’s an emotional mess as it is. It’s going to be hard to get a jury to buy that she set out to kill him. An accident’s the most likely theory and one everyone likes.”

  “Is Carson going to testify?” I suspected I knew the answer but had to ask.

  “Not a chance.” McCallum stabbed a thick chunk of meat. “The last thing we want is him up on the stand. He’ll work a deal, plead guilty to reduced charges, and disappear.”

  Bran’s leg slowed and stopped.

  “What about the club?” I opened up enough creamers to turn my coffee into a café au lait while Bran took his black. “Is it going to close?”

  Plussey shook his head. “Patty’s taking over as manager. We’re acquiring it for the family.”

  I coughed on a mouthful of coffee, unable to speak for a minute.

  Lisa gave me a half smile, seeing my confusion. “We’re still enforcing the no-men rule as far as working there goes. But it’s good for the community and if it adds more money to the family’s coffers, well...” She spread her hands.

  “I was right. You are definitely right for this Board,” I mumbled around another sip.

  McCallum cleared his throat. “You tell Jess that we’re okay, we’re under control and we’re just fine without anyone else coming down and causing trouble.”

  I couldn’t hide my smile. “I’m that much trouble?”

  “And then some.” McCallum grinned. His eyes wandered over to the side of my neck where a bruise spread out from under my loose hair. “I’m guessing in other areas as well.”

  Now it was Bran’s turn to beam. I let the three men share a moment of macho manly bonding, looking at Lisa, who put her hand up over her face to stifle a snicker. She tilted her head to one side, eyeing Bran, and gave me a quick nod of approval.

  “We’ve got to get to the airport.” I slid out from the booth, wincing as my hips protested. “I’ll let Jess know what went down.” If she doesn’t know already, I added mentally. I didn’t put it past her to have connections all over the place—if not her, then the Grand Council.

  McCallum stood up and extended his hand. “Thank you for coming down. I know it wasn’t what you expected and we might not have been the best hosts, but...”

  I shrugged, letting my tiny hand vanish in the giant’s grip. “So it goes.”

  He turned to, Bran who stood beside me, and put his hand out.

  Bran didn’t hesitate, grabbing it in a death grip.

  The two men stared at each other for a long, long minute. I saw Bran’s knuckles turning white, the half-healed cuts and bruises from the clearing more pronounced.

  McCallum stepped back, relinquishing the field. He pressed his lips together, the tight smile passing for approval.

  I nudged Bran. “Car. Go home.”

  He nodded and turned away from the table. I gave the three Board members one more glance before joining him in the rental car.

  “What do you think is going to happen?” Bran drove out onto the highway.

  “I think no matter how much things change they’ll stay the same.” I stifled a yawn. “Jess’ll want a report when I get back to the office.”

  “What are you going to tell Jess?”

  I rolled my shoulders, feeling the tension disappear with each fresh mile. “They found their killer. Case closed.”

  “About us, I mean.”

  “She knows about us,” I offered, ignoring the silent question. “I think she suspected we were heading for a crossroads.”

  “Ah.” He swerved to avoid a small crushed creature in the road. “Think she’ll be upset at the path we took?”

  “I don’t care. She lost the right to say anything years ago.”

  “Hmm.” The single word held a world of emotions.

  “Don’t start.” I raised my hands and flexed my fingers. “I can still scratch, claws or not.”

  “So can I. And bite.” He eyeballed me, a sly smile on his face. “I believe I made that clear last night.”

  I dropped my hands into my lap and put on my most innocent look. “You’re no fun.”

  “That’s not what you said this morning in the shower.” He drew a deep breath and cleared his throat. “In fact I do believe it went something like...”

  I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as he paused, waiting for my response.

  “You don’t play fair.”

  “And you’re just figuring this out now?” He chuckled. “When we get back to Toronto I’ll drop you off at your house and go collect Jazz,” he replied. “Along with fresh clothing.”

  I eyed him, noted how he kept his back straight, away from the car seat. “And some bandages?”

  He chuckled. “Might want to keep those in stock.”

  “Hmm.” I shuffled closer to him, cursing the restraining seat belt. “I’m still not giving up my house.”

  “I’m not giving up my condo.” His right hand crept onto my thigh. “But we’ll make it work.”

  “Yes.” I relaxed into his touch. “Yes, we will.”

  * * *

  Once I got home I spent a good hour sorting through my clothing, tossing anything that smelt of Trace to one side and stuff I meant to wash and keep to the other.

  The front door slammed shut as I studied my shoes and pondered if they were salvageable.

  I glanced at the clock on my bedside table. It was too soon for Bran to be back with Jazz and food.

  I picked up the baseball bat from behind my bedroom door and crept down the stairs. I wasn’t in any mood for a fight but if there was going to be one I was ready.

  “Rebecca.” Jess was waiting for me inside my office, resting her feet on my desk.

  “I don’t recall giving you a spare key.” I dropped the bat on the couch, strode by her and went to the kitchen.

  “You didn’t.” She watched me from the chair, rocking back and forth as I filled the kettle and plugged it in. “But I’d love a cup of tea.”

  I resisted the urge to throw the Brown Betty teapot at her head. Instead I fished out a pair of teabags from the battered plastic container and tossed them into the pot.

  “If you’re here for my report you’ll have to wait a few hours longer.” I strode out and stood by the desk. I’d be damned if I’d sit opposite her in the visitor’s chair.

  “Pssht.” She made a dismissive wave. “The Grand Council’s happy, I’m happy and from the look of things, you’re happy as well. We don’t really need the paperwork.” A smirk appeared. “You seem to be doing well at mixing work and play. I heard he’s moved up from boy toy to mate.” A soft smile replaced the steel grin. “I like.”

  “None of your business and I wasn’t looking for your approval,” I snapped.

  She got to her feet in a flash and stepped in front of me, so quick I shuffled back a pace. I’d forgotten she wasn’t some old cat, lying in the sunbeams and dreaming of better days.

  “It’s all my business,” Jess said. “You’re a valuable asset to the Pride and the family.” She paused a second before continuing. “And I don�
��t want to see you get hurt.”

  Her words held a hint of something else, something beyond professional concern.

  “Thanks but Bran and I have worked things out. Without your help. We know how to keep secrets.” The kettle screamed from the kitchen for attention and I backpedaled, glad for the escape.

  “So do we,” she murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. “At any cost.”

  My hands shook as I filled the teapot. I drew a deep breath and turned, prepared to confront Jess about Bran and my future.

  She wasn’t there.

  Jazz trotted into sight. She hopped onto the desk and lay on her side, sprawled across the varnished wood. She lifted her head and trilled at me.

  A cool breeze blew in from the open door. I made a mental note to change the locks, again. Although I suspected Jess could get in any place she darned well pleased.

  “What’s up?” Bran stepped in, carrying grocery bags. “Jazz couldn’t wait to get out of her carrier so I just left it outside...” His voice trailed off as he saw my face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jess was just here.” I moved past him into the front yard. The brown grass held no footprint and the silent street kept its secrets.

  “And now she’s not.” Bran finished my thoughts as he moved behind me, putting his hands on my shoulders. “What did she want?”

  “To thank me. And approve of you.”

  “I like the first and to hell with the second.” His fingers tightened for a second before shifting to rub and massage my back through the leather duster.

  I turned and walked back to the purring cat. An envelope stuck out from under her pale pink belly.

  Three thousand in small bills.

  Far above my usual going rate.

  “Payment for services rendered?” Bran shut the front door.

  “And then some.” I tossed the wad on the desk. “I’m not complaining. We earned it.”

  He tugged the jacket off my shoulders. “I like the way you said ‘we.’ Sounds sort of nice.”

  “I’m not adding you to the letterhead.” I closed my eyes and tried not to think of Jess’s expression.

  It reminded me of Ruth, the woman who had raised me after my parents had died.

  It reminded me of my mother.

  “Stop that.” Bran pinched my earlobe. “You think too much.”

  I tossed my head around, whacking him with my ponytail.

  “Fine, then.” Bran wagged a finger at Jazz. “See, this is what happens when I let your big sister be on top.”

  “When you don’t want to do the work,” I replied with a smile. “As usual.”

  “Well if we’ve started keeping count...”

  Jazz stretched out a leg and began washing herself as Bran grabbed me around the waist and hefted me up over one shoulder.

  “Hey.” I smacked his butt.

  “Hey, yourself.” He headed for the stairs. “I think I need to up my count on some particular positions. And check some of those bandages.”

  I relaxed. Jess and the family could wait, the bills could wait. I was in the right place at the right time with the right man, and that was all that mattered.

  For now.

  * * * * *

  Sink your teeth into more paranormal romance with author Sheryl Nantus!

  When a severed rabbit’s paw is delivered to her office, outcast cat shifter Rebecca Desjardin recognizes the summons home. One of their own has been murdered—and a shocking photo published in a local tabloid—and her Pride needs Rebecca, now a private investigator, to track down the killer.

  When the search leads them back to the Pride, Rebecca must attempt to Change for the first time in years to face the killer, and save the man she loves…

  Blood of the Pride

  Available now!

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  About the Author

  Sheryl Nantus was born in Montreal, Canada, and grew up in Toronto, Canada. A rabid reader almost from birth, she attended Sheridan College in Oakville, graduating in 1984 with a diploma in media arts writing. She met Martin Nantus through the online fan-fiction community in 1993 and moved to the United States in 2000 in order to marry.

  She loves to play board games and write haiku, although not usually at the same time. She also spent more than fifteen years in private security, working at hospitals and high-security sites.

  A firm believer in the healing properties of peppermint and chai, she continues to search for the perfect cuppa.

  She has published multiple books with Samhain Publishing. In 2011 she won two second-place Prism Awards from the Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal chapter of RWA. Claws Bared is her second book with Carina Press.

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  ISBN: 978-14268-9495-4

  Copyright © 2013 by Sheryl Nantus

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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