“The bigger one is Troy. He’s older by a few seconds. This one is Trent.”
She touched each
wolfen
in turn and repeated the names, looking them in their eyes. Marking them. Trevor loved the care she took with them.
She ran her fingers over Troy’s
renqua
. “What is this? Do you brand them somehow?”
“No, uh, that’s just a birthmark. We ah-get our Czechoslovakian Wolf Dogs from the same breeder and most of them have some sort of mark like that. Genetics or something.”
“Fascinating. I’ve never heard of a Czechoslovakian Wolf Dog.”
“Yeah, well, they exist,” Trevor said, then mentally flipped Troy the bird when he chuffed and bobbed his head at the lame statement.
“You relax for a second. We have time,” he said, standing and walking to the couch. He had a thousand things to do that day and he could only get two or three done with her in tow, but it was worth it to keep her safe. His heart had dropped into his stomach earlier when she’d called and said she wanted to leave.
Behind him, he heard the
wolven
’s claws on the hard-wood floor and he turned. She was standing up. “No, I’m ready.” She sounded surprised and happy.
“You sure?”
She nodded her head and smiled at him and he thought his heart might burst at the loveliness of it. Like the sun breaking through the clouds after a week’s rain. Or a boat hailing you after you’d spent a week adrift at sea. Or─
Hey Lover-boy, you’re drooling,
Troy told him.
He snapped himself out of it. “Let’s go then.” He noticed her frowning and holding her head again. He frowned himself and watched her, but she shook it off and walked past him, straight out the door toward his truck.
She climbed in the passenger seat. He let the dogs in back and got behind the wheel. “Where to?”
“My house, please. I need new clothes and to feed my cats. Well, my aunt’s cats.”
Trevor grimaced internally. She was a cat-lover. Oh well, she couldn’t be completely perfect. Cats were ok, he guessed. Especially housecats. They were tiny. Not sexy at all.
The drive to her house took twenty minutes and they didn’t speak once. In Trevor’s mind he was watching her sleep, which he had done for much of the night, wishing she were someone else. He’d never in his life felt so attracted to anyone, and it killed him that she was a human. Hell, maybe Mac and some of the other guys were right. Maybe the One True Mates were only a myth. Maybe a better strategy would be to encourage all the shifters to look for human mates. The Light knew human women were plentiful and normally eager to mate with
shiften
. Half-breeds were better than no young at all, and sometimes the offspring were strong. Sebastian was a half-breed, and he was hard-as-claws.
As Trevor pulled in front of her house, he was struck by the thought that he was missing something. Khain had been in this woman’s
house
. That had to mean something, especially combined with what the demon had done and said the day before. If Ella Carmi wasn’t a One True Mate maybe …
“Do you have a sister?” he asked, knowing it was stupid even before it left his mouth.
“Sister? Uh, yeah. But she doesn’t live here.”
“How old is she?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Right.” Trevor shook his head and turned the truck off. “Are you going to be here long?”
“No. I only need to do a few things.”
“Can I use your bathroom?” He could feel blood running down his leg into his boot and he wanted to take care of it. He turned to the dogs in the back. “Patrol the yard.”
Watch for Khain.
Got it.
Ella pressed her hand to her temple then looked at him, the hand still there, as if she didn’t even know she was doing it. “Of course. I’ll show you where it is.”
They all got out and Ella led him up the walk, her eyes on her keys. Trevor looked at the side of the house, at the splash of white paint there, and wondered about it. Before he could ask, she had the door open. “Down that hallway, second on your left,” she said and headed the opposite way.
Trevor sniffed the air. Khain wasn’t there and any smell of him had faded. The house smelled empty and safe, except for the warm, slight ammonia smell of two cats. He found the bathroom and stepped inside, locking the door, then pulling up his pant leg to look at the bite. It was the size of a quarter and seeping blood. That fucker, Troy. Trevor would get him back.
He dropped his pant leg and stood up straight, unbuckling his holster and placing it on the sink. He let go of the holds of his humanity, urging his body to change. It was painful, but as always there was strength and promise in the pain itself. He dropped to all fours as his clothes mostly fell off him, then just as quickly, he pulled his mind together and shifted back, gritting his teeth against the ache of transformation. He looked down and saw his unbroken skin where the bite had been a moment before. He grabbed some toilet paper, wet it, and cleaned all the blood off of his shin, then pulled his clothes back on, buckled his holster, and left the bathroom.
***
Ella stopped in front of her dresser and lifted her head straight up as if scenting or sensing the air. Something delicious was happening in her house. Something she wanted to be a part of, to know. She turned in a circle and found herself walking towards the door of her bedroom, then down the stairs, drawn towards something unknown. A vast contentment filled her. This was good, right. She was finally doing what she was supposed to be doing with her life. She had found her mate and he would provide her with purpose, with protection, with support and love, with everything that was good and comforting in life. She drifted down the stairs and toward the other end of the house, suddenly startled out of her reverie and thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Lieutenant Burbank appeared at the beginning of the hallway.
“Ah, found it, thanks.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the bathroom.
“Oh! Right. Good. I’ll just be a few more minutes.” Ella turned and hurried back up the stairs to her room, embarrassment flashing through her body. She was a complete nutcase, she knew that now. She turned her mind to the task at hand. Change her clothes. Run a brush through her hair. Clean her teeth. Maybe a washcloth shower.
A few minutes later, she had accomplished all of the above without incident. She hurried back downstairs, surprised to find the big cop standing right where she had left him, a strange look on his face, and Chelsea in his arms. The short-haired cat snuggled into its perch and lifted a paw lovingly to the lieutenant’s face.
“Cats, ah, cats don’t usually like me,” the man admitted and Ella almost giggled at the look on his face. He glanced toward the window as if afraid someone might see him.
“She certainly likes you.”
“Yes,” he said and put her down, trying to brush himself off, but Chelsea jumped straight back into his arms.
“Sorry,” Ella said. “Just put her down again. I’ll open a can of food to distract her.”
He did and Ella was right, the food did distract the cat. Ella stuck her head out the back door and called for Smokey, who did not come.
She closed the door and turned back to see the big cop staring out the front window, his body tense. “Trent needs me,” he said and made it to the front door in three steps. Ella rushed to the window to see what was going on. Both dogs were pointed away from her, staring at something on the front lawn. Something small that she couldn’t see. Weird. She watched the big cop rush down the front steps and join the dogs, his posture saying whatever they were looking at was dangerous. A rabid animal maybe? Or a snake? But there weren’t any venomous ones in the area. The cop bent and when he stood, he was holding Smokey by the scruff of his neck. Ella gasped and rushed outside.
“That’s my cat,” she said, gathering Smokey in her arms and turning away from the dogs. “He’s harmless. Did he just walk up to you?”
She swore the two dogs were frowning at her but she didn’t understand what was going on. Smokey was a friendly cat with people, but he didn’t like dogs or other cats. He only tolerated Chelsea because she had been there first.
“What’s on his shoulder?” Lieutenant Burbank asked, his voice gruff.
“That’s nothing. He’s missing a patch of fur. He’s been missing it since the first day he showed up here. The vet said there was nothing he could do about it. I don’t even notice it anymore.”
“Missing? He’s not missing any fur.”
Ella noticed the frown on the lieutenant’s face and the strangeness in his voice. She looked down at Smokey who lay completely compliant in her arms, his eyes on the two dogs. On his left shoulder, in the spot where he’d never had fur before, he now had a white figure 8 threading through the black fur, exactly like one of the dogs had. Ella blew out a breath and ran her fingers over the spot. She thought hard, back to the day before. No, he’d had no white fur in this spot then. Only the tip of his tail. Her mind flipped over. The tip of his tail was the only other place that dog had a white spot also. “I don’t understand. He had a missing patch of fur here before.”
“Was it in that shape?”
Ella thought back. “Sorry. I don’t remember. But I don’t think so. I think it was just an oval.”
A look passed between the big cop and the two dogs and Ella felt like screaming. There was something they weren’t telling her.
The big cop stepped closer and his nostrils flared. “What do you mean, when he showed up here?”
Ella looked up at him. Maybe if she were more open, he would be too. “I only moved here with my mom two years ago. My aunt always had Chelsea and another cat too, but the day we moved in, the other cat disappeared and Smokey showed up. We tried to find the owner, put up signs in the neighborhood, but no one ever called, so we just kept him. He’s a good cat.” She shut her mouth with a snap, feeling like she was babbling, trying to justify something.
The big cop stared at the two dogs again and Ella felt her neck muscles tighten into cords, giving her an instant headache. “Look, Lieutenant, can you just tell me what’s wrong?”
“Call me Trevor,” he said in an offhanded way, rubbing his cheek with his hand. “Sorry, I guess we’re all keyed up.”
Ella relaxed slightly. Smokey jumped out of her arms and ran off into the bushes. They all stared after him, and then the two dogs began to walk around the house again, noses down, neither going after the cat. Ella looked at Trevor. “And you can call me Ella.” she said, feeling shy but happy at the same time.
He smiled at her. “Right.”
Ella felt herself get sucked into that smile and she resisted the pull. “So, ah, I’m mostly done here. What did you have to do today?” she asked too brightly.
He held his hand out toward the street. “The department is having a-an event and I need to pick up some snacks. That’s easy, right? You up for a trip to Cost-Smart?”
“Anything,” she breathed, then had to hold herself back from a forehead slap. She said the stupidest shit sometimes.
He didn’t seem to notice. “You need to lock up?”
Ella ran back inside and grabbed her keys and a small wallet she could fit in her pocket.
If she didn’t think too hard about what was really going on, she could almost imagine they were going on a date.
Trevor pulled up at the warehouse store and eyed it, wondering if he should bring Troy and Trent inside with him or not. It would draw attention to them, but if Khain showed up, he would need them. A ripple of anticipation went up his spine at the thought of Khain showing up. He was more than ready to finally face the monster.
He turned off the truck, then went to the back to rummage around in the storage compartment for Trent and Troy’s police vests. They’d been quiet the entire way, all of them lost in their own thoughts about what the appearance of an
echo
meant. Especially a domestic cat echoing a
wolfen
. It didn’t make sense.
He pulled open the back door and held out one of the vests for Trent who walked into it and let him buckle it, then did the same to Troy.
“You never talk to them,” Ella said.
“What?”
“You never say a word to them, or pet them or anything. I don’t know, I thought it was strange. Sorry.” Her cheeks flamed and she looked forward quickly.
Trevor caught Troy’s eye and smiled. He wouldn’t dare pet one of them. Wrestle maybe, but no male would ever pet Trent or Troy and expect to keep his fingers. As for talking to them? Maybe he was acting weird. He didn’t know how humans treated their pets. He sure as hell was not about to call them cute puppies in a baby voice.
“Maybe it is strange. I’m not in the K9 unit. I don’t have a ton of experience with their work.” It wasn’t totally a lie. He winced, hating the thought of telling her any untruths.
“Why do you have them now?”
“Ah, well, because they are a team, and ah, they are the best at dealing with certain kinds of situations and, well, I might need them…” He took off towards the store, hoping swift movement would deflect any more questions.
He stopped to grab a cart and she caught up with him, his brothers alert and menacing at her heels. She looked at the cart he was pushing. “Why is it so big?”
Trevor looked down at himself, startled, then realized what she was talking about. “The cart? Because this is a warehouse store. Everything comes in super-size packages. You’ve never been here before?”
“No,” she said, her eyes on the ceiling of the store, then crawling over the pallets and pallets of items just inside the door.
“You’re in for a treat,” he said, nodding at the woman just inside the door and holding up his membership card. People whispered and scattered out of their way, scared of Trent and Troy. They were certainly handy to have around. Criminals took one look at them and just gave up.
They pushed their way through the aisles and he grabbed items they would need for the rut the next night. Pickett’s funeral was during the day but it would be catered. The
zyanya
would be next, and then right to the rut. Trevor would not be going but he’d told Mac he would pick up some refreshments so none of them fell over in a dead faint during their hedonism. Trevor shook his head. A rut with humans, a
scheduled
rut with humans─ what was the world coming to?