Her Sexy Beast

by Karin Shah

  He’d never tried tampering with the subject’s chemistry.

  Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

  He’d scanned list after list of values between Subject A and Subject B. Every figure had been nearly identical.

  Of course, their ages had been different. Subject A had been younger and had demonstrated shifted traits before it had been acquired. Those traits had led the Kincaid group to it in the first place.

  Finding Subject B had been a fluke. A Kincaid Group operator had seen it on the street and been struck by how much it resembled Subject A.

  DNA had been extracted and sequenced and the familial match verified.

  Age. What might be different because of age? Hormone levels certainly. But that didn’t make sense.

  Younger chimeras would have fewer sex hormones, but if sex hormones blocked the shift then adult chimeras would be unable to shift. That wasn’t the case.

  If fact, before Subject A, he’d never even heard of a juvenile chimera shifting.

  Maybe it wasn’t a deficiency in Subject B, but an anomaly in Subject A?

  Subject A was beyond his reach now, but Subject B?

  It’d been more than a decade. What chance did he have of finding it now?

  He sighed, if only he still had the Kincaid Group’s resources or even his former salary, he could hire an investigator.

  “Hey.” His co-worker, Sharla, leaned into his field of view. Inquiry puckered her smooth brown forehead and quirked her full lips. “You’re done. It’s quitting time. You going to stand there all evening or clean up and go home?”

  He blinked. How long had he been standing there holding his empty micropipette?

  He shook his head. “Just thinking about something I lost.”

  “Pfft,” she laughed. “Just do what I tell my kids, go back to where you lost it.”

  He was still thinking about her words as he got his things from his locker, and in his car on the way to his crummy apartment.

  Several hours later, he stared blurry eyed at his computer monitor. After several false starts, he’d found his notes about where Subject B had been released and waded through google to find the newspaper from the area for the date it had been released.

  The police blotter had seemed the best place to find what he’d been looking for—mention of a bizarre-looking indigent—but he’d struck out.

  Where the hell could a seven-foot tall, partially shifted chimera have sought refuge?

  He drummed his fingers on his desk. It couldn’t have died. A body like that would have drawn national interest.

  In desperation, he read the entire electronic newspaper cover to cover and then widened his search to later in the week and finally neighboring towns. His eyes burned and his temples throbbed, but on the last page of the El Dorado Hills’ Village Vibe fortune smiled.

  There, above the footer, gleamed a square, colorful advertisement for a carnival.

  Chapter 19

  Sofia hummed to herself, reaching into the linen cupboard above her head, and playing tug-of-war with the folded blue and white quilt she’d bought on vacation in Jaipur, staggering as it abruptly slid from the shelf and dropped into her arms.

  She planned to meet Roan in the pine tree-lined meadow bordering the campsite, so he could get some fresh air while she read to him. Lu had given him the all clear for light exercise.

  She balanced the book they were reading now, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which was both of their favorites from the series, on top and maneuvered her way out the door and down the steps, heading for the clearing.

  The sun shone on the campsite, heating her head. The frost had burned off from the meadow and though the breeze held a refreshing nip she became a bit hot under her burden.

  “Hey, let me.”

  Her nape prickled at the sound of Roan’s voice. She wheeled to see him limping toward her. He wore his usual T-shirt and basketball shorts, but her pulse gave a little leap at the sight of him. Her rapid motion sent the book tumbling from on top of the bulky comforter.

  Amazingly, though she would have said only a major league outfielder could have closed the distance and caught the book, it landed safely in his hands. The only person she’d ever seen—pro ball players not withstanding—move so quickly and fluidly was Roan when he’d caught the sponge the day of the car wash. It’d been astounding then and it was even more amazing now he’d been wounded.

  Her stomach plummeted. “Careful! Did you hurt yourself?”

  He squeezed the hardcover book between his large hands, almost obscuring it. “Lu is a worrywart. I’m a super-fast healer. I’m only limping so people don’t know I’m superhuman and cut me up as a lab experiment.”

  A week ago, she would have sworn he didn’t know the meaning of the word joke, but their long conversations since he’d been hurt had revealed a whole new side of him. A glow lit in her chest. It felt good to be one of the people he felt safe joking with.

  She chuckled. Actually, she felt so free and happy, she was afraid the laugh might have veered into giggle territory. Her face warmed. “Well, then, good catch, Superman.”

  “Hmm.” He fell into step with her as they meandered to the field of tall, coarse, wheat-colored grass. “I think I’m more like a werewolf—a were dragon?”

  A were dragon? Where had that come from? She shook her head and laughed at his nonsense.

  Still, seeing him walking there, his painted scales almost dazzling in the sunlight, she could almost believe he was some conglomeration of man and mythical creature.

  They stopped at a dry, fairly even spot. He took the heavy quilt from her hands. The fabric snapped as he made the flicking motion needed to cause it to billow and settle almost perfectly open.

  He must have been being truthful about his healing, because he gave no sign the move had yanked his injury.

  “Good job.” She circled the cloth and pulled out the corners, then sank down and patted the quilt beside her. “Siéntate aqui.”

  Sit here.

  He lowered himself gingerly to the soft surface.

  She smiled at him. “Do you speak Spanish? Or did you read my gesture?”

  His laugh was a bit rough as if he didn’t do it often and were rusty. She was so ridiculously pleased to have elicited the response, she was almost embarrassed and fixed her gaze on the waving brown top of some sort of fuzzy-headed weed for a second.

  “My accent is crappy.” He circled his face. “I blame the mods. My lips are not as flexible as I’d like, but the carnival has travelled in Colombia and other South American countries on and off when money was tight for years, so I understand and speak it.”

  She ducked her head, hiding the flush that threatened at his reference to his lips and cleared her throat. “Um, I guess, I’d better start reading. I have some accounting and other paperwork to catch up on later.”

  He nodded and reclined on the quilt, his bare shins and sneakered feet poking off the fabric and into the prickly grass. He curled in on himself like those plants that are sensitive to touch.

  She clicked her tongue. “Slide closer.” She hesitated. Her heart ratcheted into a faster pace. “You can put your head in my lap, if you want.”

  He paused in his adjusting and glanced at her. His black, vertical pupils expanded in the green of his irises. Then he inched toward her, rolled onto his back, and laid his head on her crossed legs.

  She wore navy capri yoga pants. His silky hair was cool through the thin fabric and soft on her ankles. The weight of his head felt comforting and right. The urge to stroke his hair made her tug at the snagged hem of her tunic-length T-shirt.

  Seemingly, unaware of her struggle, he handed her the book. She hid her turmoil in the rapid flipping of pages, found the correct chapter, and began to read.
<
br />   ~ ~ ~

  Roan peered up at the watery blue sky, his gaze slipping more and more often to Sofia’s face. Her low, husky voice flowed over him as she spoke the familiar words from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

  The smooth brown of her cheeks looked like velvet. What would it feel like against the back of his knuckles? He fisted his hand to keep the thought from turning to action. Her long, sooty lashes fanned against her skin. He imagined how they would tickle on his scales. Or even better on his skin, if he could only re-gain his full human form.

  Watching her face as she read, he drifted into thought. After breakfast, Thalia had come to see him. She’d handed him a small vial of cloudy liquid.

  He’d stared at her. “What’s this?”

  She tapped the vial. “Let’s call it a temporary fix. Because your condition is a mix of science and magic, I can’t break it with magic alone, however, this potion is very powerful. It uses some of the most ancient magic. Like Snow White’s sleep was broken by a kiss, once both you and Sofia have taken this potion, a kiss will break your spell—at least for a time. Frankly, it’s probably not necessary. I can tell Sofia likes you, but it should speed things up. The sooner you gain control of your feral side the better.”

  Did Sofia like him? He yearned to believe she did, but part of him was afraid to take her overtures at face value. He’d been burned too many times. Still, he couldn’t dispute Thalia’s final statement. He didn’t need another episode like the one with Sven, and he couldn’t deny his temper shortened by the day.

  Except with Sofia. He was fine with her, better than fine. When he was with her, he felt relaxed, settled in his skin, but interactions with the other carnies, especially male ones, were becoming more fraught.

  At breakfast, a metal tray had been dropped and he’d had to charge out of the mess area to prevent himself from going ballistic. Every quick movement or loud noise made his dragon surge to seize control.

  Being injured had worked to his advantage, being isolated in his trailer was boring, but safe. But he couldn’t pretend much longer. Pretty soon he would have to return to rehearsals. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but the tight quarters backstage combined with speedy costume changes, chances of collisions, and heightened emotions were a recipe for disaster.

  He glided a hand up to palm the protuberances his hair still obscured.

  His temper wasn’t the only issue. How long would it be before his hair couldn’t hide the growing horns? He could only pass them off as body mods for so long.

  He had to take action. The potion sat in his trailer at the moment. The plan was that Lu would slip Sofia hers at dinner.

  Then all he had to do to be human again, at least for a short time, was get Sofia to kiss him.

  Yes, she’d been extremely kind to him over the last few days, whether it was gratitude or guilt he couldn’t say, but even so, getting her to kiss him seemed a Herculean task.

  Chapter 20

  “I’m on my way.” In Manhattan, Ky lowered his phone to end the call, his eyes already scanning his office in his multi-story Midtown loft for items he might need to pack.

  His pulse raced in his ears. Roan has been found. He closed his eyes in relief. He was razor close to fulfilling his mother’s last request. Soon they would all be together.

  But Thalia’s voice could easily be heard on the speaker before he cut the line. “No!”

  He sighed, pressing his lips together, then brought the phone back to his ear. “What? Why? John’s AWOL, so I can’t phase there, but I can have the jet fueled and be out of here in a couple hours.”

  She tutted like a maiden aunt. “I just told you, he’s close to going feral, and his mate is here. Does anything about that scenario suggest it’s a good idea to haul ass to Florida?”

  “It’s our job to make sure if he goes feral he can’t hurt anyone.” Ky spoke slowly as if to a kindergartner, not because she wasn’t intimately familiar with reality of the situation, but because he dreaded this responsibility more than any other.

  As much as he hoped for a joyful reunion, the fact he might have to act as executioner never strayed far from his mind. His throat ached, and he had to force down a swallow.

  Air gusted over the connection. Her agitation bleeding into him. “Another male chimera near an unmated chimera with his fated mate nearby? You’ll put him over the edge.”

  She released a shaky breath, and he heard the rustle of her clothes as she no doubt ran a hand through her long hair. “Look, God willing and the creek don’t rise, he’ll be mated by tomorrow, then you can come.”

  Ky growled in frustration and instantly regretted it. The clicking reptilian sound rolled off the walls and ceiling, escaping his office which was only partitioned from the rest of the loft. No doubt his other brothers and their mates would hear the sound and come running. Jake and the rest would be as eager as he to “haul ass to Florida” as Thalia had so eloquently put it. He just hoped he could hold them off for a day. “Fine. Keep me updated.”

  He severed the connection and paced to the window, staring out at the blackened skeletal tops of the trees in Central Park. The snow on the ground making them all the more stark. He could hear a mix of voices coming down the spiral stairs and slammed a hand against the broad surface of his desk. It cracked ominously, but he didn’t give a shit.

  In twenty-four hours, they could see Roan mated and whole, or lost forever, and it was out of their hands.

  ~ ~ ~

  Roan, still laying with his head cradled in Sofia’s lap, let his gaze wander back to her face as she finished the chapter and closed the book.

  Her soft cheek had been calling to him for as long as he’d lying here. Longer really.

  If he was ever going to know how she felt, he had to take a risk.

  He gave in to his urge, lifting his hand, but paused and furled his hand before he could touch her, his hand centimeters from her face. “Can I touch you?”

  Her eyes widened and her lush mouth dropped open a fraction. Her eyes skated away in a move that looked more shy than offended and returned to his. A scent flowed off her. His dragon said it was desire and his breath caught. Still, he waited for her answer.

  She nodded slightly, her cheeks pink. “O-Okay.”

  Even given permission to do the thing he’d craved since he met her, he still hesitated a second longer before tasting her peachy cheek with the back of his fingers.

  He was a total noob when it came to women—hell, people—but if he didn’t get some balls and make a move, he might as well find a quiet place to lose himself and wait for either his brothers, or this council Thalia had mentioned, to kill him.

  Her cheek was so soft and perfect under his fingers, he didn’t have to fumble for words. He just spoke his heart. “You’re so beautiful.”

  A flush suffused her cheeks, making them look even more delectable. She ducked her head and raised her long lashes to meet his gaze again. “You don’t have to butter me up.” A small chuckle escaped her, but it spoke more of disbelief than levity.

  They weren’t so different, really. It was hard to believe this gorgeous woman failed to see her own beauty, but it seemed she was just as insecure as he.

  He winced and shook his head, his hair caught against her thighs as he moved. “No butter involved. You should be a model.”

  “Pfft.” The sound was pure rejection. “Last I looked, models were skinny.”

  He closed his eyes for a second. His chest squeezed. How could he make her believe him?

  He slid his hand up to fully cup the smooth skin of her face. The silky warmth of her cheek and jaw against his palm tingling down his arm and buzzing through his body. “Perfection doesn’t have a size.”

  The bitter laugh that ripped from her clawed at his heart. “Tell that to all the guys who though
t the fat chick was only good for a one-night-stand.” Her scent changed, and he was immersed in her pain and loneliness.

  A growl bit his throat and he sat up and turned to face her before he’d consciously made the decision to do so. She recoiled a little at his snarl, and he fought down his anger.

  He’d known she’d had a normal life, that unlike him, she’d lived a full life that included other men. He didn’t hold it against her. As for those men who’d hurt her? “I’d like to be in a room with those blind assholes.”

  That seemed to break her defenses, this time her chuckle was genuine. “I’d pay money to see that.”

  He knelt in front of her and took her hands. “Sofia Flores, I’d pay to do it. Whatever lies people have told you in the past because they’re superficial dicks who can’t handle a real woman, forget them. Believe me. You’re perfect.” His voice faltered. “Any man would be honored to have your attention.”

  The pink in her cheeks deepened, but she sighed, her tension seeming to seep away. “Thank you.”

  He dropped her hands and buried his right hand in the hair at his nape. Though, he’d only spoke the truth he was suddenly nervous he’d come off like some crazy stalker. “Wow, I got intense, didn’t I? Sorry.”

  She smiled and patted his shoulder, getting to her feet, pressing her palms to her cheeks and forehead for a few seconds. “Don’t apologize. You did wonders for my ego.” She dusted flecks of grass off her pants. “I need to get back to work.”

  He stood and started collecting the quilt. His heart a lead weight. Seconds ago, he’d felt close to her and now she appeared to shove an imaginary wedge between them.

  The bright sky dimmed. The white clouds glinted like the edge of a knife poised to cut. He stood, helping her fold the quilt to mask his despair.