by RJ Blain
“Don’t you get mouthy with me, young lady.”
While I counted as young to him, there was nothing ladylike about me, so I darted forward and snapped at his hand. He yelped, jerked back, and dropped my future partner-in-crime. Justin bounced on the bed, rolled, and bounded across the comforter. I flicked my tongue and pursued, slithering along the edge to keep him from escaping.
“Seriously? Play with him later, after you tell me what you think you were doing, Tulip.”
I swiveled my head to hiss at my father, which was when Justin pounced, grabbing hold with his front paws and driving me down to the bedding. I lashed my tail and waited.
Checking his watch, my father sighed, shook his head, and strode to the door. “Fine. I’ll be back in a few hours. Try to be human by the time I return. We’re going to have a very long talk.”
I wondered if all parents believed such threats were effective. My father left, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone with the number one natural predator of black mambas.
As having hands was useful, I slithered off the bed and headed for the bathroom so I could shift in the tub and soak away the aches and pains. It hurt like hell, and through the entire process, I had a curious mongoose voyeur keeping me company.
“You’re a pervert,” I rasped, and as I was too tired to make a fuss over it, I didn’t bother to try to hide the mottling of bruises covering me head to toe. “Lycanthropes suck. You just shift back and forth a few times, and you don’t have to pay the bill for your idiocy. Me? Oh, no. I’m going to be a bloody mess for weeks.”
Shifting had helped, although I wasn’t going to admit it. My tentative exploration of my ribs indicated I’d gone from probable breaks to bone bruises, which were far superior to fractures. It would hurt, but unless I started coughing up blood, I wouldn’t go to the hospital.
Lycanthropes cheated. Justin’s shifted quicker than I did, and he did so with fluid grace, growing and melding with his human form until he knelt beside the tub, his arms draped over the side. “This explains so much,” he murmured, looking me over while I went about filling the tub and adding shampoo to the water so I could have bubbles.
“Being a freak of nature does explain a lot of things,” I conceded.
“I was trying to figure out how a reptile lycanthrope could exist; lycanthropes are exclusively mammals. From our observations, we’d determined you’d inherited cold-blooded traits from both sides of the family, but we were beginning to believe you were a vanilla human.”
Me? Vanilla? I snorted and splashed the water. “The CDC refuses to believe I’m immune to lycanthropy, and since I don’t have another trick I’m willing to prove, I look vanilla. I’m sure they’ll give me an immunity rating one of these days.”
“Or you can register as a shapeshifter.”
“That’d be rather stupid of me.”
“Would that be because you have a tendency to find your way directly into trouble that might require you to use your fangs to eliminate threats?” Justin rested his chin on his forearm, watching me with a smirk. “I’ve been studying you, Tulip.”
The way he purred the word studying made me want to think he had a few ideas for a more thorough examination of my person. “I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me.”
“As a rather skilled predator, one of my first tricks to lure another predator out is to act like prey. I ran and, because you’re a predator as I suspected, you locked on and hunted for me. Had I known you weren’t cut from your mother’s cloth, I would’ve lured you off somewhere in private and begun my campaign to win you sooner.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why? Because let’s face it, that sounds about as creepy as me wanting you for your bacon.”
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he admitted with a shrug. “Part of my job. Your father’s interests are my interests. As his interests involve making certain you, his only living child, remain safe, I’ve been keeping an eye on your activities. You’re a magnet for trouble. Were you aware that you almost fell prey to a sexual predator?”
I cocked a brow, and I considered how I’d discovered Matthew Henders’s body. A hybrid mongoose lycanthrope could’ve easily done the damage with a single claw, and it fell in line with how they liked to kill, going for the throat and killing the snake by the head. “Were you aware my mail was going to explode?”
“No,” he growled. “I’ve learned you have a serious problem with mail bombs.”
I scowled, twitching at the thought Justin might’ve been the one to yank my prey right out from beneath my nose. “You were the one to kill him, weren’t you?”
“I had reason to believe he was your next target.”
With my cheek still twitching, I wiggled my toes in the water. To my dismay, they ached, too. “Yes, that was the entire point.”
He gaped at me. “What?”
Rolling my eyes, I fashioned my hand to resemble a gun and mimed shooting someone. “Let’s say there’s someone I really don’t like, and I have a really good reason to dislike them. Well, I have this bad habit of killing them, especially when they’re someone like Matthew Henders. He was an irredeemable ass of the worst sort. I got onto that mail route specifically so he’d notice me.” I heaved a sigh. “There’s just no artistry in a slit throat. Really. Couldn’t you have at least used some finesse? I had everything planned right to the second. Except the mail bomb. That was not a part of my plan.”
“You were planning what? To become his victim?”
I leveled my worst glare at him. “No, you idiot mongoose. I was planning to kill him. Also, he wasn’t a sexual predator. He was a serial killer with rapist tendencies. There’s a difference.”
Justin blinked. “He was a serial killer with rapist tendencies?”
“I do believe I just said that.”
“You knew he was a serial killer with rapist tendencies, and you went near him anyway?”
I flicked bubbles at him. “That is the idea. How else was I going to kill him?”
Slumping over the edge of the bathtub, Justin bowed his head and groaned. “This is even worse than I thought. Next, you’re going to tell me you went after a minotaur on your own on purpose.”
“No. I was actually looking into the disappearances of two lion centaurs in the area, poked my nose where it didn’t belong, and found his lair. I found the centaurs, but they’re dead. At least I don’t have to try to explain away that one. He had a lot of victims. I mercy killed some of them, but one inside might survive if someone gets to them sooner than later. There was a wolf lycanthrope I guided out, but he went loco the instant he got through the maze. That’s actually why I was up the tree; I didn’t want a crazed lycanthrope getting a hold of me.” Lifting my hand, I showed off where I’d punched the cat in the mouth. “Last lycanthrope I tangoed with got punched in the mouth for trying to wreck my future car.”
“We heard. That’s why your father’s back here rather than trying to convince your mother she should come home with him again. It wasn’t going well.”
“Well, yeah. Snakes eat fish. Was he really expecting a different result?”
Justin snorted without lifting his head. “And mongoose eat black mambas, yet here we are. We’re both in the same bathroom. No one’s dead yet.”
“I’m a woman with simple needs, Mr. Brandywine. I already told you. I fully intend to have you make me bacon every morning for the rest of my life.”
“You realize that’s not exactly a good reason to dedicate to someone, right?”
I wrinkled my nose, lifted my chin, and turned my head so I wouldn’t have to look at him. “If you’re looking for sane, you’re barking up the wrong tree, mongoose. Maybe I just like bacon that much.”
“Or you have no social skills, have no idea how to have a relationship with anyone, so you’re willing to work with what you understand, which happens to be bacon.” Laughing, he lifted his head, reached out, and flicked bubbles in my direction. “And you prefer lycanthropes because
you understand once you land a lycanthrope, you don’t have to have relationship skills; he’ll make it work because the virus ensures it.”
As I couldn’t deny his accusation, I shrugged. “So what?”
“Are you actually monogamous?”
“I’ve tried relationships. The bastards kept looking at other women, so I left before I resorted to murder.”
“You haven’t actually murdered any of them, have you?”
“I don’t date my prey. That’s just rude.”
“You just strut so they notice you, then?”
“Well, how else am I going to get close enough to kill them?”
Justin grimaced. “How many bodies have you left hidden around? Dare I ask?”
“Why would I hide the bodies?” I asked.
He jerked his head up, his eyes wide. “What do you do with them, then?”
“Report them anonymously so that the police can bury the fuckers. I don’t leave messes to be cleaned up. I kill my victims properly, thank you. And unless they have habits of leaving their victims on their door step, I don’t leave their bodies just lying around anywhere. No, Mr. Brandywine, I very deliberately leave my bodies to be found, along with a very detailed explanation on why I killed them.” Frustration over having been thwarted by a mongoose welled up, and I wailed, “It’s not fair! You slit his throat and just left him there. How could you? That’s so sloppy.”
“And here I was worried your erratic behavior was due to the shock of seeing a corpse.”
“No, it was due to the shock of some sloppy jerk stealing my kill and just leaving him on the step for anyone to find. I had it planned to the minute. You hear me? I had it planned to the minute.”
“You’re not going to accept any excuses, are you?”
“There is no excuse for a sloppy murder. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“You have no problems with me killing, you just have a problem if I don’t do so with the proper grace?”
“That sounds about right, yes.”
“There’s a word for people like you, Tulip.”
“Insane? Psychotic? Sociopathic? I have an entire dictionary of words that match my base tendencies. All of them come from a psychiatric health dictionary for some reason.”
“I was more thinking along the lines of incredible, but those might fit, too. So, you have jealous tendencies and the desire to murder any man you’re with who strays. How do you reward undying loyalty?”
“I’m not into dead people.”
Justin groaned, hung his head, and then laughed. “Neither am I.”
“That’s good. I can work with a mutual disinterest in necrophilia. I killed a necrophiliac once. I drew lines on that job. I beat him with a stick rather than violating him, because that’s just damned gross. Actually, I stuck to standard physical violence and made do when I killed the real sickos. It was a challenge sometimes. Still, I made them all suffer the hells they put their victims through.”
“I’m strangely relieved you have limits.”
“I have rather strong urges to bite men I want to keep around permanently. I haven’t bitten anyone yet, mainly because I’d kill them. That really puts a damper on potential relationships. I don’t want to be a black widow. I’m a black mamba. What’s the point in having a man if he’s just going to fall over dead on me?”
“Two things. First, I’m a yellow mongoose. I can—and have—eaten black mambas for breakfast. Second, I was initially hired because your father could bite me without needing a new bodyguard. I’ve learned black mambas have an inherent need to bite someone when they’re pissy. Really, my job mostly involves being available if your father needs to bite without killing someone. I tend to protect others from your father instead of the other way around.”
“I’m considering recruiting you as my partner. As such, you’ll never heel at my father’s command ever again. Should he try to make you heel, after I’m done beating him to death, I’m going to make sure you’ve learned your lesson. I have no problems with you continuing your efforts to keep him alive. For some reason, I almost like him.”
“I’m sure his contributions to your life have something to do with that. Otherwise, he’s somewhat annoying.”
“He is. And his parents? They’re almost as bad as my mother’s parents. Now, that said, I’ll tolerate them if they take me to jump out of perfectly good planes some more. I liked that.”
“Anything else I should know?”
“I probably won’t have a long lifespan. That, plus I’m technically a serial killer. I just happen to prefer killing other serial killers. So, one of these days, I’m probably going to be tossed in prison or executed.”
“Just how many people have you killed?”
“This year?”
Justin closed his eyes, slumped beside the tub, and sighed. “Sure, let’s start with this year.”
“If you hadn’t so rudely taken my kill, I would have had two serial killers in the bag. I bit a few people in the minotaur’s prison. They were dying, and I wasn’t sure they could be saved even at a good hospital. They were too far gone.”
Cracking open an eye, the lycanthrope watched me. “How’d you know?”
I tapped my nose. “Death has a scent, and it clung to them. They were in really bad shape. I left one alive hoping he might be saved.”
“Excuse me,” he murmured, rising and striding out of the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard him speaking to my father and telling him there might be a survivor on the minotaur’s lair. He hesitated, and then confessed I’d bitten several victims as mercy killings. When he returned, he was still naked and didn’t have his phone with him. “He’ll take care of it. If it can be verified it’s a mercy killing, it won’t be much of an issue. At worst, he’ll pay a fine to the survivor’s family and swear under oath they were put out of their misery and couldn’t be saved.”
“I could make that oath.”
Justin crouched beside the tub. “He’ll be happier if he deals with it. He’s a typical gorgon. The idea his daughter is self-reliant won’t settle well. Females in gorgon society are treated like prized jewels to be protected and treasured by the leader of their hive.”
“I absolutely refuse to share my man,” I hissed.
“I find this very promising.”
I scooted in the tub to make space, although it’d be a tight fit if he decided to join me. “I don’t share men, but I’m willing to share my bath. You seem to have misplaced your clothes. You have to be cold. The water’s warm.”
“I should be reminding you I’m a lycanthrope, which makes your suggestion a rather dangerous one.”
“I’m pretty sure we already determined I have no social skills, and I’ve already come to terms with the reality I’m never going to be a good girlfriend or whatever it is I’d be.”
“As I’m a lycanthrope, you’d have to accept the title of wife. I don’t mind accounting for your relationship handicaps, although I’ll have a few rules.”
“What rules?”
“No escaping allowed. Once you’re mine, you’re mine. I will hunt you should you try to run. I’ll even enjoy it.”
“No heeling at my father’s command. That’s not allowed.”
“You realize that was a hunting strategy, right? If I’m at his feet in a crouch and he uses his gaze, I won’t be affected by it. When he whistled, he indicated he was ready to petrify our opponent. I lured the minotaur into your father’s range. I wasn’t heeling.”
“You heeled like a well-trained dog. Never again.”
“What should I do, then?”
“Bite him.”
“You’re being unreasonable about this.”
“No, I’m not. There will be no heeling. You can go stand behind him looking smug, but none of this crouched at his heels like a good dog. I’m unwilling to negotiate on this point.”
Justin rose, dipped a toe into the tub, and joined me. I expected him to slide in, which he did. However, he did so in
such a way I sprawled over him, and his chuckles rumbled in his chest. “I accept your terms. If you’re going to insist on hunting serial killers, I’m going to insist you do so through legal channels.”
I jerked, sitting up so I could stare at him with wide eyes. “There’s a way to kill them legally?”
He sighed. “Yes. It requires licensing with the CDC and certain law enforcement organizations, but yes. There are ways. You really didn’t know?”
“What I was doing had been working until you came along and stole my kill!”
“I’ll help you get legalized, and I’ll even help you with the hunt, but you’re going to have to walk me through all your past kills so I know what I need to do to protect you.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be my father’s bodyguard?”
“If he fires me, he fires me. I’m a lycanthrope. The instant I take you to my bed, you’ll be my top priority for the rest of our lives, and all other loyalties come second. I’m sure there’ll be an excessive amount of whining from certain individuals.”
“I have this tendency to wander off. You probably want some nice, reliable woman.”
“I’d get bored,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m also willing to put up with the heat cranked up so you won’t get cold.”
“And my bacon?”
“Most mornings, I’ll make you bacon. I’ve learned it’s best to come armed with food to keep cranky snakes happy in the morning. Bacon is a common weakness among gorgons, and I’ve learned to take advantage of it. I think I’ll be enjoying my morning bacon duties a great deal more in the near future.”
“Does it have to be your bed? Because really, right now, that’s a deal breaker. I’m going to have a hard enough time getting back to mine.”
“I’m not worried. For now, enjoy your bath, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Nothing lately worked to plan, not that I had much of a plan. Aware of my bruises, Justin held me in the tub, and he was so warm I was content to stretch out on top of him and doze while the water soothed my aches and pains.
“Did you break anything?” Justin asked, sliding his hands along my arms.