by Lisa Ladew
She opened the window and stared into the face of her mate, bars between them. He was just as beautiful as he’d been fifteen minutes before. Eventine kept herself still, not smiling, not moving, not breathing. He searched her face. She waited for him to recognize her as his mate, but then his scent reached her and her eyes slipped closed for just a moment as her red wolf howled once inside her, then settled.
Heaven.
He scented like smoked cider wood and masculine spice and clean soap and healthy wolf and strong man and eagerness and possibility and her future was twisted up inside there like the stripes on a candy cane.
But his wolf didn’t recognize her wolf. Didn’t even approach her. The male also, did not have any recognition in his eyes.
What now? Crap! Just get him what he needs. See what happens. Mates didn’t always know each other on their first meeting and there could be a thousand reasons why. What no one ever told you was how to handle it when it happened.
He smiled easily, no resistance there. His hair was perfectly high and tight, his face fascinating up close. His nose was a bit lumpy in the middle, probably had been broken several times while he was too drunk to notice and shift. Do that enough times for long enough and the bones don’t always fit back together exactly right. Not perfect, but certainly handsome. What was he like? How well did fate know her? As well as she knew herself? Better?
He pointed over his shoulder, but the hallway was empty. “Sgt. Wheeler, she sent me up here to draw weapons.” He pushed his form across to her, his expression friendly but slightly confused.
She was just standing there like a moron. She stepped it up. Pulled his form across to her side of the window, didn’t look at it, stared at him, relishing the way her spirit bloomed for him. She wanted to touch him. How much longer did she have to wait? The rules of wolf society were really starting to piss her off. “Harlan Mundelein from Harlan, Kentucky,” she said, her voice low, staring into his eyes.
His smile faltered. His eyes searched hers. “That’s me,” he said, drawing out his syllables slightly, like he was speaking carefully, but not much of an accent.
She held out her hand. “Call me Evie.” Her reputation preceded her, but Burton didn’t allow pictures of her to circulate outside of the department, and no one called her Evie but Burton. A sick need for Harlan to not know she was Burton Risson’s adopted daughter when he discovered her as his mate twisted inside her. Why? It made no sense.
Her body heated again and she felt needy and clumsy in a way that made her think of an itch that needed to be scratched. A need bloomed inside her that she’d never felt before. Something… heavy and pressing. Her thoughts got stuck. Fine. Mate. Mine. Mate. When would he figure it out? There was something to be done. Something present and urgent and pressing and urging and she wanted to get to it.
Their hands clasped. His skin was warm and rough, his grip firm and heavy and she waited for him to press down, to test her. To run his thumb along her palm. To pull her in for a kiss.
He let go.
20 - Past – Here is your Spanking, Sir
Harlan let go of Eventine Risson’s hand. Evie. He liked it. “You’re the armer?” he asked.
She looked at him from under her crimson lashes, her hair free and wild and long and coiling everywhere, as untamed as her spirit looked. Was her hair soft? He bet it was soft, all those tiny cinnamon curls. He took a deep breath and reminded himself who she was. How old she was wasn’t a huge deal, shiften law didn’t state when a female shiften was old enough to mate, because fate did that, awakening the desire in her on its own timetable, but Harlan didn’t see himself with a 16 year old girl. He was interested in women. Which she certainly looked and acted like. Petite, yes. But still all woman. What had Jaggar said? She thinks she’s 19?
He tried to still his interest in her, but she was the most interesting female he’d ever seen. With her unrestrained red hair and her light skin and her bold features, and her appraising expression, like she was always weighing everything, filing it away in some massive filing cabinet in her mind for later use, he could stare at her all day.
“Filling in,” she said, her voice hard and feminine at the same time.
He restrained a shiver and tried not to watch her lips move.
She slapped another paper down on the window platform between them. “Fill this out,” she said, studying him, like there was a test later and he was on it. Shit, did he look the same way? He might. He took the paper and checked her lovely amber eyes one more time. Not lovely. Just normal eyes. Brown like dirt, even. Fuck. He dropped his head to the paper in front of him and began filling it out. Date and rank of your last weapons qualification. Date of your taser qualification. Easy stuff.
Harlan breezed through it, while Evie watched him, her eyes on him like a weight, heavy and pressing.
He finished the form and handed it back over, the noises of his hands and the paper on the platform between them echoing in the empty hallway. No windows up here, because the range and gym were beyond the armory. He didn’t like to think of Eventine up here, closed in with no windows. Females should be on the ground floor, able to go outside whenever they wanted.
She stared at him again, cramming for that test. Silent. Her scent held in close to her body. Only tiny wisps came to him, a bit of wild here, a bit of sweet there.
She stared at him so long he squirmed in his mind and tried to think of conversation starters with her. She didn’t look like she was big on small talk. Or smiling. Why did that make him warm inside? Harlan grinned and shook his head and dislodged the thoughts with effort. The world was his motherfucking oyster at that very second and he did not need to get hung up on this female. This too young, too intriguing female. He’d ask someone else out and soon. Today. There were sexy females everywhere at Serenity P.D. Wild and bold females he couldn’t wait to get underneath him. He’d get himself a date for the evening and turn his mind away from Eventine Risson.
Harlan shot her a smile. Not his best one. Didn’t need her hung up on him to add a layer of shit to the pile. Her eyes flashed down to his paper he’d given her. He expected her to take it to the back and return with weapons for him. A new 9mm. Some pepper spray. Cash liked to spray that spicy shit in his mouth like breath spray before he climbed on his horse for patrol. Harlan smiled at the memory of Cash looking like the Mundelein idiot. Evie noticed and studied him harder.
He relaxed and turned around, leaning his elbows on the counter, stomping his heels on the floor in a rhythm. He couldn’t dance for shit, but that didn’t mean this damn stuffy police station couldn’t use a bit of sound and music. It contained too much beauty and he needed a distraction.
She spoke, her tone demanding he turn his attention back to her. “We’re not done. I need to review your physical de-escalation procedural knowledge.”
Uh oh. “Ok.” He looked around for another piece of paper.
She nodded behind him. Toward the gym. “On the mat.”
Ah shit. They were going to spar. Not good.
He caught a sense of her animal moving, a petite red wolf that heated Nowl’s blood, made Nowl raise his head and take notice in what was going on.
Eventine tossed him a training firearm, all molded blue plastic, which he snatched out of the air like they’d been playing catch. He dropped it into his empty holster and strapped it down, absurdly hoping she’d noticed his neat grab.
“I’ll meet you there in 5.”
***
She'd changed. He was in his new, all-blue Serenity P.D. uniform, no boots or socks, Sam Browne belt on, fake blue gun strapped into his holster. She would try to steal his fake gun, like a criminal might, and he would try to react in a way that de-escalated the situation. Grabbing at a cop’s gun was a good way for the cop to get killed, but a better way for the person doing it to get killed, so police trained in de-escalation. How to respond to a gun-grab without going too far. How to get your gun back under your control without shooting either one of you, if p
ossible. Harlan hadn’t had this training since he’d been in the academy, but he’d been good at it.
She’d changed into pink gym shorts and dark blue shirt. She was adorable and sexy all at the same time with those curls and coils of cinnamon hair tamed in two rough braids down the back of her head. A naughty impulse to pin her down and pull those braids loose hit him. See that hair fly. He sidestepped the impulse like he’d taught himself to do when he was a pup.
Harlan turned away from her. Looked at the wall. Where was Jaggar’s dad who was supposed to run the armory? This all would have been much easier with some crusty old male wolfen.
“Ready, Mundelein,” she called from the center of the mat.
His bare toes curled. Shit. His dick had jumped at the sound of her voice. And now he was gonna have to touch her skin. Maybe he should fake a stomach ache, ask for a bathroom pass. No way, he would power through. He always powered through.
Alright, dick. Here’s what’s gonna happen. It’s naptime for you, got it? You ain’t gonna be involved in this.
Got it. He stalked over and maneuvered his body to face her, eyes on the ground in front of him so he couldn't see her curves. Waited for her to say go. She moved in quickly, no warning, he didn't see her coming, and before he knew what was happening, she unsnapped his holster and had the dummy gun out and pressed against his temple.
Harlan froze, his body heating. He hadn’t even gotten a hand up. She was lightning quick and had just handed him his ass. He couldn’t help feeling like she’d just given him that test she’d been studying for. And shit, here was his grade. F+. The + was because he’d still been standing when she blew his brains out. Fuck. Way to make an impression, Mundelein.
At least no one was around to see it. But he still knew. His dick stirred in his pants and he groaned internally. Fucking traitor could at least wait till he redeemed himself to get excited. He’d caught a bit of her scent. But just a bit. She had it tightly controlled, held close to her body, still. A neat trick if you could do it. He’d never seen it before.
Her dry tone held the slightest amused twist. “You didn’t shoot me.” She dropped the gun on the ground at his feet with a flick of her wrist and took six steps back to where she’d started. “But you didn’t really do much of anything and now you’re dead.”
Harlan stood on the center of the mat and stared at the dummy gun she’d thrown to the ground, his lips twisting in bemused smile. All woman, Nowl growled from inside him. Yes.
Harlan snatched the gun off the ground and snapped it back into the holster, the mat cold against his bare feet. He assumed a defensive stance, eyes glued to Evie this time, arms dangling slightly in front of him, muscles loose and ready. His dick could get hard all it wanted. She wasn't going to show him up like that again.
Eventine snapped her eyes to the door like someone had come in. Harlan looked that way, realized what she was doing as his eyes went back to her, but she was already on the mat, coming in low, under his arm, unsnapping his holster on the move, then pressing in close so she could yank his gun out at the exact angle he would. The move was one only an experienced cop would make, probably but that didn't make it off-limits. Bad people became cops. Good cops went bad… or desperate.
Blue plastic gun pressed to his temple again. The other one this time. At least the holes in his head were symmetrical. Fuck. She'd gone straight for the throat again and he hadn't expected it, again. She was as fast as she looked, and twice as devious. This one did not play by the rules.
Spanked twice, Harlan grunted and doubled down mentally. She wouldn’t get him a third time. His dick was a steel rod in his pants. Fucker.
She tossed the gun on the ground and strolled back to her spot. Turned. So casual. So relaxed. And he was just getting more and more worked up. Ok, Evie, I’m ready for you this time.
Nowl loomed in close. Harlan stepped back the tiniest bit. Nowl was as fast as Eventine.
Evie watched him. Didn’t say a word. Harlan was struck by how wolfish she looked, even as a human. It was something in her expression, in the way her eyes were always narrowed as she looked around. She looked like a petite red wolf with a murderous streak. His favorite kind.
He gathered himself. Ready.
She moved without warning, whirling left, feinting right, then in, and like a blur, she was right up next to him. Hand on his gun. Fuck. But he followed her momentum through, managing to trap her arm next to his body just before she got it all the way out. He pinched the delicate bones of her wrist together, and twisted, his other hand dipping in, re-gaining possession of his weapon. He lunged forward, triumph only an echo in the back of his mind, as a split second decision warred inside him. Gun to her temple? Like she’d done to him twice? Just to show her that she could be bested too? Soothe his ego? Or move away like he was trained to do? Move away. He would never put a gun to her head, even a dummy gun. Unthinkable.
But his choice was stripped away, just that quick. She’d already clamped both hands on his training firearm, one over the slide, and one under the trigger guard, and twisted her body. His gun went with her. And boom, she was back where she’d started, his blue gun in her hand, held loosely, like it was inconsequential. He was starting to hate that stupid gun.
What the fuck? he growled to his wolf, panting with his growing embarrassment and determination.
Butterfly is fast. Admiration rang in Nowl’s voice. She got me.
Who the fuck is Butterfly?
No response.
Oh. Evie’s wolf. Nowl had never told him the name of another’s wolf before. Butterfly. It was so strange, and yet, it worked. There was nothing about this female that made sense.
Harlan fought to get his thoughts in order. If he could just get ahold of her, he could use his own strengths to his advantage, but right now her strengths were tearing his up. Her speed had a gun to the temple of his strength and size. He could barely get a finger on her.
She dropped the gun on the ground a third time. His dick had gone soft at some point. Good. Her hair was coming loose, cinnamon curls springing every which way. He scrambled forward and snatched the gun off the mat. “You’re quick,” he muttered. She didn’t say a word, only waited for him to move back into position. But no, she was already moving behind him as he walked back. He didn’t hear her. Didn’t scent her. Didn’t feel the air in the room move as she sliced through it.
He… sensed her coming. Or maybe he had learned it was what she would do already. He didn’t wait for her to reach him. Just snapped his hands to his gun, catching her fingers as she came in, leaning into her, catching her arm near the shoulder, gigging her with his hip, and flipping her over his body, onto her back, and falling on top of her. But no, she hadn’t even hit the ground and she was already moving, using him for leverage, rolling, pulling from his grip. He followed her with a grunt, even though he knew he had no chance of catching her, but this would continue on until he’d pinned her at least once. Until he won. But she would never let him win. In that moment, he knew that they would be there until she decided they were done, but he would never win. He would never pin Eventine Risson.
But then she stopped moving. Just. Stopped. His momentum carried him forward and he managed to hook an arm around her torso. She dropped to the ground and he dropped on top of her. She twisted, moving, and he gathered himself to go after her, but she was only twisting from her side to her back so he pressed flat against her and then she laid there, not even breathing hard. He panted on top of her.
His dick sprung to life again and he froze, not wanting her to feel it against her hip. Her amber eyes, fringed with those curious cinnamon lashes, latched onto his. Studying for that test again, reaching right inside him, rummaging around. Looking for… something.
She waited. Staring. Breath held.
Harlan scrambled to his feet.
21 - Past - Mate Crush
He’d been working at Serenity PD for exactly three hours, and he’d just pressed his hard dick against the teenage
daughter of the hardnosed chief and her reputation said the daughter was meaner than the father. He was about to lose his balls and his job and he wasn’t sure which one he was going to miss more.
But Eventine only curled in the middle, gracefully, but forcefully, the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts moving fluidly, drawing his eye like only curves could. He turned to face the door and wait for his ass-chewing without his eyes on her body. Harlan shifted his stance, running through dick-softening things in his mind. Baseball stats. Gun parts. Cash, his crazy cousin. Perfect. Cash reciting baseball stats while he mucked out horse’s stall. Gross.
Eventine stepped close to him. Close enough that he could grab her if he wanted to. He was tempted to try it, just to see how fast she moved. But already he was telegraphing the thought and she was moving away, her eyes narrowing, watching him. Pop quiz coming up, 100% of your grade! No pressure. She stopped somewhere in front of him and turned lightly on her bare feet to face him.
“Harlan,” she said, her voice soft, which surprised him. He loved the sound of her voice, the way she said his name. “Do you recognize me as your mate?”
Mate? What? Of all the things he would have expected Eventine Risson to say, that was not one of them. Even pups knew the difference between sexual attraction and a mate handed to one by fate. Did Eventine think his erection meant…? He tried to form words. “Mate? I—” He couldn’t think of what to say, or how to react to this female. Straightforward manner. Not even like a male. More like a general, or a queen. A sudden fierce desire to know what she had been like as a child filled him. Had she been like this even at five years old? Seven? Or had it developed over time? Or had it just appeared at age ten or twelve or fifteen? She fascinated him. “You’re attractive, yes, but mate, no -and I apologize, I-you’re too young and I shouldn’t-”