Gaius slowly straightened from the desk, his expression one of chilly displeasure. “You will call me Commander.”
Anger sizzled through the cur’s hazel eyes, but he was smart enough to keep his annoyance to himself.
“Whatever floats your boat,” he muttered with a shrug. “I’m Dolf and this is my sister—”
“I do not care who you are or about your tedious life stories,” Gaius interrupted in crushing tones.
The air prickled with the heat of the cur’s mounting frustration.
“And a big f**king hello to you too.”
“This is not a social call.” Gaius flicked a dismissive gaze over the two. “Tell me why the Dark Lord believes mere curs can be of service to me.”
Dolf clenched his jaw. “Because I have powers beyond a mere cur.”
Gaius ignored the hint of sarcasm in the man’s voice. “What powers?”
“This.” Lifting his hand, the cur pointed toward the shelves of books, muttering beneath his breath. There was a brief moment when Gaius wondered if the man was demented; then without warning one of the heavy books flew off the shelf to land on the desk with a loud thud.
Gaius hissed in disgust. Magic. Was the Dark Lord deliberately attempting to test his loyalty by surrounding him with creatures he most detested?
“You’re a witch?” he spat before he could control his reaction. “How is that possible?”
The cur shrugged, obviously accustomed to the question. Not surprising. He might very well be the only magical cur on the face of the earth.
“I was a fully trained witch before I was turned.”
Gaius narrowed his gaze. “Curs hate witches.”
“True.”
“Then how did you get bitten?”
The cur smiled with a smug arrogance. “I can be very convincing.”
Gaius wasn’t impressed. “If that is your only skill, then you and your sister can—”
“Wait,” the cur rasped.
“What?”
“Ingrid.” Dolf glanced toward the silent woman at his side. “Show him.”
Reaching into her back pocket, the female cur withdrew a small cell phone and held it up for his inspection.
“You’re here to sell me a phone?” he mocked.
Ingrid pressed a button on the phone that brought up the picture of a blond-haired man with pale blue eyes.
“I worked for Caine,” she said.
“Caine?” It took Gaius a moment to realize why the name was familiar. “The Were protecting the prophet?”
“Yep.” The cur smiled. “This is his direct line.”
Chapter 4
Las Vegas