by Lisa Ladew
Sorry. … … … … … excited.
Eventine grinned wantonly in a way she never had in her life. She knew what Butterfly meant, exactly. A little like getting a phone call with Rhen. And then Rhen gives you her number so you can call her any time you like.
She tried to speak to/at Butterfly again, but couldn’t quite get it. How did it feel to Butterfly? Was her wolf like her, getting Eventine’s general intent and desire, but not actual thoughts? Or could she heart thoughts, too? Just how deep did the bond between animal and person go? Could Butterfly interpret her thoughts if she could hear them? Was that the problem with communication between a shiften and her inner animal? Language? Fascinating.
Butterfly had fallen silent, seemingly content with their first contact for now. They both knew that when there was work to be done, chatter was nothing but a distraction.
Evie arrived at the door to the JPTC room, not bothering to look inside before she went in. She was late. Peeking in to check the mood of the room wasn’t going to fix or change that.
Sgt. Bisske stood at the front of the classroom, an actual piece of chalk in her hand, and a smear of yellow on the front of her smart khaki work uniform, talking about public relations, and why they mattered. Her eyes slid over Evie like Evie wasn’t important at all, and she kept talking.
Evie scanned the rows, looking for an open chair. A few students glanced up at her. Most nodded to her. None smiled. Not one empty desk and chair. She saw the spares, piled up in the corner. Bisske had made sure there would be a scene if she came back.
Evie stepped to the side and leaned against the wall, crossing her feet at the ankle, letting her bag dangle to the ground. She could stand. No problem.
But then Jaggar saw her. He stood up immediately, cleared his stuff off the desk, motioned to her to sit down. She shook her head, but then she saw the flash of irritation in Bisske’s eyes, so she nodded and strode forward to take the seat.
But Jaggar had a black eye. Shit. Had he been fighting again?
Sgt. Bisske cleared her throat. “Eventine Risson, I have you marked absent for the last three days. One more unexplained absence this quarter and you’re out of the program. I wouldn’t think I would have to explain a rule to you that you set.” A few students twittered. Everyone turned to look at her and Jaggar standing next to her, his face red and confused.
Evie nodded. “Tell yourself that. I’m still in charge. You just don’t know it.” Evie didn’t need the star renqua to prove she had vision, and she didn’t need department rank to know where she stood with this bitch.
More students laughed this time, a few openly. They turned and slid down in their seats, waiting for Bisske’s lob back. She didn’t disappoint. “Jaggar, tell Cadet Risson how you got that black eye.”
Evie shot him a look. It had something to do with her? Jaggar shook his head. No.
Sergeant Bisske urged him on. “No, seriously, tell her. Tell her you got in a fight because you heard someone say she had a mate crush on that new KSRT guy, Mundelein. She should know you were defending her honor.”
More laughs. Some definite snickers. Eventine didn’t care if people laughed at her. Teenage girls were famous for having mate crushes, thinking they’d recognized their mates in every cute guy they came across, but that was not her.
Bisske beamed at the snickering laughter, nodding her head, pacing in a tight circle at the front of the room.
Evie stood and headed for the door. There was no point in being there, but now her next step was crystal clear. Get Harlan on board. If he was hers, and he was, then she was his. He just needed to realize it.
The faster she could push him into realizing it, the sooner she could put silliness like this aside and get back to the real business of keeping Serenity P.D. running well and driving forward.
26 - Past - Sergeant Bitch, Reporting to Steal your Male
Hunger drove Evie to the chow hall where she sat at a corner table, sipping her soup and scribbling in her notebook. Harlan was somewhere near her. She wasn’t sure where, but she could feel his presence. It was calming, soothing, protective, and she liked it. Could get used to it. Sip of soup. More musing. Why wouldn’t Burton want her to mate? Mating was integral to wolven society. Wolven fathers didn’t “protect” their teen daughters, or shield them from males, like human fathers did. The only answer Evie could come up with was an unrecorded prophecy. Which was against shiften law. Or Burton just had a “feeling.” Which didn’t make sense. She’d put off actually asking Burton for as long as possible, but now it was the only thing left. If she’d thought he would answer her she would have already asked him. In reality, she was worried she was about to push her father into the deep end of some pool only he could see.
Butterfly poked her. Hard. From the left. Evie lifted her head and looked that way. Harlan sat at a table, food in front of him, about twenty feet away from her, his chair angled toward her like he’d been watching her.
Sergeant Bisske Bitch was on his lap, squirming her ass, whispering in his ear, a predatory smile on her lips.
Eventine dropped the pen in her hand and pushed her chair back. Up and moving. Not running, no, slow and steady as Bisske pinched Harlan’s cheek. Harlan’s face was contracted in confusion and he held his hands up and away from Bisske, palms out, then pushed her hand away from him, looking like he was trying to figure out what was going on. The lunch room hummed dispassionately, not even noticing.
Harlan must have felt her coming. He looked up at her face and understanding spread over his. She didn’t think she looked as murderous as she felt but her mate might have had some sort of a special self-preservation sense about that kind of thing. Good. He needed to know that someone was about to die.
Harlan shook his head at Bisske and pushed her off of his lap. She didn’t hit the floor, but twisted away fluidly and stood to face off with Evie. She’d known Evie was coming. Evie’s stride didn’t slow. From her left, someone dropped a tray, someone else laughed. But then the beat of her heart took over. Thump. Thump. THUMP! Her senses narrowed on Bisske. Evie moved past Bisske, then stepped in close, hit away a forearm coming for her throat, then grabbed the bitch by the hair and pulled her by her scalp to the door of the closest room.
Bisske grunted, then cried out, her nails tearing at Evie’s hand, scrambling backwards, her spine bent unnaturally. Wolven looked at them but no one stepped forward to help. Wolven policed themselves, not each other. In the room they went, grunting and pushing at each other, Evie’s hands wound in Bisske’s hair, Bisske’s hands around Evie’s forearms, trying to keep her from yanking out too much hair. The room was an unused, dark meeting room that had been abandoned when they’d built the extension to the station.
“That looks like it hurts,” Evie muttered, slamming the door shut behind them so no one trying to eat could smell the blood because blood did funny things to wolves, rather like vampires. Harlan stuck his big body in the way of the door and forced himself in the room with them as Evie shifted and Bisske shifted and tables and chairs flew into the wall and they went at it, tooth and claw and blood and nail and die and fuck she had her by the throat and—
***
Harlan pressed against the wall, his heart beating wildly, not sure what to say or do, his eyes on the two mad females, one red, one black, twisting around each other, both so quick he couldn’t track their movements or whose blood was flying. He wished for Jaggar. Was this normal behavior for Evie? For Serenity PD?
Brooke Bisske had been talking like a perfectly normal wolven to him about how they’d both arrived in Serenity the same day and then something had changed and she’d been on his lap, dipping her head to whisper into his ear. He’d been confused until he’d seen Evie coming for her like an executioner. Then it had made perfect sense. He grinned in spite of himself and the blood flying in front of him. Two hardnosed females fighting over him? Both the kind of female he fell hard for, always had? Hell yeah. The type who knew what she wanted, spoke her mind, would throw an elbow as quick
ly as a male. The more orders she gave, the happier he was to scramble for her, as long as she fed him sweetness in return.
But Evie fought dirty, snarling, going for the gut, not letting Bisske get her feet under her, her teeth tearing at Bisske’s soft underbelly.
“Shit!” Harlan shouted and he launched himself at Evie.
Her snarl ripped through the room, a red wolf with teeth like razors. He grabbed her around the ribs and wrenched her away, slamming both of them into the far wall, where they lay dazed, Butterfly/Evie watching Bisske’s timber wolf quietly.
Bisske caught her breath, then shifted fluidly, her wounds closing as she went from wolf to human, but her blood still covered the room. She lay there, human, naked, catching her breath, until Evie snarled a warning. Bisske stood, left her bloody uniform on the floor and disappeared out the door with a last swish of her hips. Harlan let go of Evie and blew out a breath as he slumped against the wall behind, unable to believe what in the fuck had just happened but glad no one was dead.
Evie shifted. Naked on the floor. In his arms. Oh shit. Now he was in trouble. Harlan shot his gaze to the ceiling as Evie pulled away and grabbed her clothes and his dick tried valiantly to stick its head out of his waistband to get a look.
Harlan twisted away and snarled his frustration. His dick was a Neanderthal. It had no clue what was important. What was a mess. Get a good look, dick. This is what a mess looks like. This is when you stay quiet. “What do you think you were doing, Evie? What a stunt that was. Your mark, is it mine yet?”
Evie pulled her shirt on, facing away from him in the dimly-lit room with blood on the floor.
“That means no.” He shook his head. “You have no claim on me. That was for me to deal with. Not you.”
Her voice was low. Dangerous. It stirred his wolf. “You weren’t dealing.”
He tried to explain. “I didn’t know what was going on. But it doesn’t matter, you can’t act like that. Me and you, we’re not a thing. Your dad doesn’t want you to be a thing with anyone.”
She finished dressing. Faced him. Spoke to him like she was explaining manners to a child. Simply. Matter of factly. “You’re my mate. I’m not going to share you unless I want to.”
Harlan staggered for a moment. What? Um. Shit. He lost his train of thought. Oh yeah, right. He shook his head. “It’s not up to you. I’m not yours.”
She didn’t answer, only stared at him.
“Evie, I’m going to date.”
Anger rippled out of her, but her voice was restrained. “You do what you gotta do and I’ll do what I’m gonna do. But that is not a good idea.”
Harlan shook his head. Now he was the one talking to a child.
Her scent flared and Harlan realized just how much he’d missed it. He took a deep scent. Cinnamon bonfire. Cherry wood burning sweetly. Heady and sensual. She was aroused.
He tipped her face up to him with a hand on her chin and he could no more stop himself from kissing her in that moment than he could have stilled his heart from taking its next beat. He bent to her, her in her Bisske-bloody JPTC uniform, still scenting of her recent shift, him in his khakis, the unofficial KSRT uniform, touching his lips to hers, pressing this time, reveling in the kiss, in the touch, in the slide of his lips on her lips and the scent of her. Finally he got almost enough of it, all of it flooding him at once until he was drunk on it and he could never get enough and it was all he’d ever wanted because it was all anyone had ever wanted, this coming home with—
Harlan pulled back from her. If he didn’t, he was going to press her against the wall and take her, and then what? Then mess. He stepped away. Reeled himself in. Get your shit straight, Mundelein.
He stepped back, toward the door, wanting to say something profound, something like, you and me, we’re not a thing, not until I recognize you as my mate, or that mate mark twists up into a knot, but then she raised a hand to her lips, touching them softly, like she already missed his mouth on hers, like the air felt like sandpaper to that sensitive skin, and he couldn’t do anything but leave the room because if he didn’t right that very second he would be lost to her.
He left.
27 - Past - mine? Mine. MINE!
Harlan turned over, or tried to, in the lumpy chair he was sleeping in. Evie was sleeping in the tunnels, so he was sleeping in the tunnels. He could feel her presence a few doors down, and it was comforting.
Except… Harlan sat up. He couldn’t feel Evie. He shot to his feet and tucked his shirt in, sitting long enough to tie the laces to his boots, then he was out the door and heading for Evie’s door.
It stood ajar.
Evie was up to something, he knew it, could feel it, was suddenly terrified of it. Harlan’s throat went dry as he tried to imagine what it might be. A cat strolled out of Evie’s empty office like it belonged there. Harlan took a step back. The thing meowed at him and then headed down the hallway, leaving Harlan staring after it. Was he supposed to follow it. Feline Lassie? He shook his head. These fucking tunnels had him spooked. He would never have an office down here. Ever.
He followed the cat. It led him further into the tunnels, it’s tail waving strangely in the air, the end twitching. Harlan made sure not to look at its kitty starfish. He heard something behind him and turned just in time to see Evie disappearing inside her office with two big males her own age.
Her own age, so that meant they were anywhere from sixteen to twenty. Seventeen or eighteen, he thought. Big, like football players. He thought both of them were sons of officers, and both went to the local high school. Neither was in the JPTC. Harlan jogged back that way, the thought flashing through his mind again. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
He reached her office, and the door was still slightly open. Just an inch. He stopped. Leaned against the wall. Tried to keep himself under control. Nowl tensed inside him, ready, watchful.
But something clicked in his brain as he stood outside Eventine’s office, waiting to hear exactly what business those two males had with her. He tried to imagine how he would feel if he recognized her as his mate and she didn’t recognize him back. Then what if Jaggar pulled what Bisske had pulled the day before. Yeah, he and the Beast would have gone to the schoolroom that day, Beast or not. Harlan might have died, but that wasn’t the point. When it was about your mate, you fought.
This was a bluff. Had to be. She wouldn’t do it. Minx. Vixen. Wolfen. She was a scheming female who could not wait for nature to take its course and he would have done the same. She was a schemer, a strategizer, but she was innocent, too, he could see it in the way she looked at him. He was seized with an overwhelming need to know how many males she had been with, and how. Was she a virgin? Maybe. Had she ever been, “in love”? It did not matter to Harlan, but he would want to know. He would never hurt her… he pulled his thoughts away. Shit. Shit! He thought of her as his mate, so why did he not recognize her as his mate? If it had just been him he would have accepted that he was just too stupid, but Nowl, Nowl should know, shouldn’t he?
Nowl shook the fur of his head and neck and snarled.
Harlan drew closer to Evie’s door. From inside, he heard talking. “Let me see it,” Evie said, her voice coiled strangely.
One of them had something in his hand, that was all. Maybe it was drugs, Harlan decided with a crazed, stupid relief. That’s right, drugs. Heroin maybe, meth. Anything would be better than what he would not admit was happening. His own words rang in his mind. Me and you, we aren’t a thing.
One about-to-be-twitching-on-the-floor-in-pain male spoke. “Touch it.” He moaned. Harlan half-shifted in rage before he knew what he was doing, his torso curving toward the ground, Nowl growling to the fore, ready to kill.
Evie spoke again. “You, too. Let me see it,” she said.
The other male spoke and Harlan was still shifting, then he was in the air, but he caught the phrase as he leapt—“Suck it, baby, I always knew you wanted to.”—sending the door crashing against the wall. Mine! MINE!
… MINE! Realization and recognition speared through Harlan’s gut as he uncoiled, claws and teeth leading, toward the two males who dared to exist, but would not for much longer.
She was his MATE, and she was touching ANOTHER. His snarl ripped through the room, making the houseplants in the back shake, like there were small animals hiding inside. Both young males displayed iron-strong senses of self-preservation and shifted into dark, lean wolves at Harlan’s first snarl, twisting away, curving their bodies toward the door and leaping and fleeing, ears back, tails whipping, nostrils flaring.
Nowl gave chase, Harlan stoking his blood lust, wanting to see the males suffer.
28 - Past - Bad Girl
Evie sat down at her desk to work on the paperwork there, satisfaction dripping off of her, although it might have been nice if Harlan had given her just another moment or two with Dan and Bill. One quarterback, one linebacker. Meaty, how she liked them, big enough that they could lift her over their heads with one hand, and both their cocks had been hard and purple and straining and she’d only just gotten a peek at them and now they’d be the last she’d ever see, besides her mate.
Harlan Mundelein, that male who had just chased those two other males out with murder in his snarl had recognized his mate, had broken through whatever block was keeping him from the realization, and when he returned to her, she’d be mated and claimed in the only way that mattered.
A noise in the corridor made her look up. Harlan was there, pulling on his clothes. He’d gotten his khakis on but they weren’t buttoned or zipped and curls of dark hair peeked out, making her lick her lips. He tucked away a hint of a thick cock and her eyes saucered. Her stomach swooped and her core swelled. Why wasn’t he in here yet? She was... ready.
But he was pissed. He caught her with his eyes, pinning her. “That wasn’t right, Evie. We’re supposed to be partners. You can’t just plan to go around me and get your way with dirty tricks.”