“What bait?”
“A few rumors in an online social media group of a large animal stalking people in a neighborhood on the opposite side of the city. Possibly a cat.”
“You planted a rumor?” He had an incredulous note in his query.
“And it worked. When possible, try to throw off suspicion by laying a false trail. If they give up, it’s the best-case scenario.”
“You’re really thought about this shit.”
“We’ve had to in order to survive.”
“What do you fear?” he asked.
“As if you don’t know.”
His chin dropped. “Discovery.”
8
Admitting his biggest fear liberated Stefan, even as it left him vulnerable.
She put a hand over his. “Preventing discovery is my job. It helps with the anxiety about it.”
“Really? Because it would be nice to not be suspicious that I’m being watched all the time.”
“Oh, you should still suspect everyone and everything.” Her grin shone with mischief.
“Even you?” His query low and husky.
“Especially me.” Again with the lilt in her words. Was she flirting?
“Am I supposed to believe this is flying under the radar?” he asked. He waved a hand toward the lit end of the alley between the houses, filled with strung patio lanterns, music, and the hum of voices. “This seems like you’re asking to be found out.”
“It’s called hiding in plain sight. When you look around, what do you see?”
“A lot of werewolves.”
“Where? Show me one.”
He opened and shut his mouth. “Well, none at the moment.”
“And you’ll never see one here. It’s one of our most enforced rules.”
“You banned morphing.”
“Only inside the city. Wolves don’t belong in suburbia. Anyone who wants to run on four legs has to go somewhere a wolf wouldn’t be out of place.”
“Meaning you head out of the valley for some stretches of forest.”
“Some do go that far. Those of us who need to stretch more often can get away with running along the Trans Canada trail. Just park on Westridge and head in, looking like you’re going for a jog. Slip into the woods, strip, and boom.” She snapped her fingers. “You can get a few hours in.”
“What if you’re seen?”
“So long as we’re not menacing, people can call in wolf sightings. Our guy who processes the calls will label it a coyote. Dangerous to household pets. Not humans.”
“What if someone thinks you are a danger and does something?”
She arched a brow. “We live in Ottawa, Canada. No shooting animals unless you have a tag from the government.”
“Not everyone obeys the law.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not everyone goes jogging on a nature trail armed to kill wolves. As a matter of fact, I’d go so far as to call it rare if it ever happens.”
He wanted to be contrary and ague some more, only to realize he was doing it to her again. She was giving him answers, and he was arguing.
Fuck me, I am annoying. He needed to stop being a dick. “How often do you go furry?”
She rolled her shoulders. “Not as often as I’d like. Most of my work happens in the city.”
“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you all to live in the country so you didn’t have to hide?”
“And commute how long to work each day?” She arched a brow. “You do realize the bills have to be paid. A wolf’s gotta have meat in the fridge.”
“This is crazy.” He pulled another cigarette, only to have Nimway knock it away. Again.
“Jeezus, it’s just a smoke.” He defiantly pulled a third.
She leaned in and yanked it, squishing it to tobacco dust. She moved close enough to whisper on his lips, “Smoking is gross.”
“You’re allowed to think that. I happen to like it, and I told you, when I get fucked up, I need to screw, or I smoke.” Once upon a time, he’d done harder shit. He wouldn’t lose that kind of control again.
“No. Smoking.” The words fluttered against his mouth.
So close. Her scent, sweet and musky all at once, swirled around him. Surely, she knew how she tempted. It wouldn’t take much movement on his part to kiss her.
He fought against the urge.
“What’s wrong, baby? You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden.”
“Just thinking about everything you’ve told me.”
“Is that all, baby?” The last word teased him.
“What are you doing?” he asked. Other than driving him wild.
“Trying to make you kiss me. But since you’re being a fucking gentleman—” She kissed him.
For a moment, surprise held Stefan still, and then he opened his mouth and his tongue welcomed her in.
Sensual heat. Desire. A throbbing need filled him.
He lost track of time and place. He was on fire. Every stroke of her tongue and grind of her pelvis stoked the heat.
She groped him, cupping his ass through his jeans. Sliding her hands into the snug fabric and digging her nails in. He would have done the same if they’d not been interrupted.
“Eeew. They’re kissing.” The bucket of cold water came in the form of the same little girl as before.
“It is nasty, I agree.” The voice of Gwayne, Nimway’s brother.
Fuck.
She practically leaped out of his arms as she exclaimed, “Gwayne, um, did you need something?”
“Am I interrupting?” Gwayne’s voice was much too smooth. The violent glitter in his eyes didn’t bode well.
Not that Stefan could blame him. He’d have done the same if he’d caught his sister kissing the enemy.
“What do you want?” Nimway snapped.
It was the little girl who pointed at Stefan. “Need you. Big kitty is guarding the dessert table.” Adorably lisped, which was probably why it didn’t make sense.
“I don’t understand,” Stefan said with a frown.
“Raymond.” The only word Gwayne uttered before pivoting and marching off.
What about his brother Raymond? It was enough for Stefan to follow, emerging into a yard where voices buzzed and music still played, but everyone appeared riveted by something ahead of him.
As the crowd parted for Gwayne and Stefan, he finally saw what had everyone’s attention. A lynx growled at anyone who came near the chocolate fountain. That wasn’t the only issue.
Anika had her arms and legs wrapped around Dominick and appeared to be talking frantically at him, but it was only as Stefan neared the dessert table and smelled it that he understood.
Anger overflowed. He whirled on Gwayne. “What the fuck? You think it’s funny to spike the chocolate with catnip? What kind of shit trick is that?”
The guy looked confused. “I swear we didn’t.”
“Mostly because no one would ever ruin chocolate like that,” Nimway muttered, moving past him, only to freeze as the big lynx took a swipe at her.
She growled.
The cat snarled and crouched.
Fuck me.
“Raymond, no!” Stefan grabbed Nimway and tossed her behind him and then turned to face his brother, who was more susceptible to catnip than he’d led on. He must have gone for the chocolate the moment they brought it out. He always did have a sweet tooth, as did Dominick, who had to be led away, his control sorely tested.