princess.” He leaned back in the chair and used the knife he’d pulled to start cutting his fingernails. In my office.
Ewww. And no, thanks. I had a cat shifter in my office, holding a knife. I wasn’t going to settle down. I didn’t lower the blade either. “Do us both a favor, if you would, and tell me why you’re gracing me with your presence, cat.” Please…so I can tell you no and you can be on your way.
“Cat, huh?” He grinned at me, a toothy smile that would look all too at home on a tiger. A lion. A cougar. Any of those. All of those. One of the big predator cats, damn it. Why couldn’t he be something little? Like a bobcat. A lynx, maybe? Or an ocelot. Yeah. I’d think about him as an ocelot. A little dwarf leopard. Cute, fuzzy. Not at all dangerous.
I stared at him and watched as his eyes flashed again.
No. He wasn’t cute or fuzzy and he sure as hell was dangerous. He tucked his blade away and reached for the file folder he’d brought in with him. So innocuous.
The cat shifter sits in my office, clips his nails with an oversized bowie knife and then proceeds to do business. My life is too damn strange. I should have decided to do the tax crap today. Then I wouldn’t be stuck here with him.
“My Lady sends her regards and formally requests your assistance, Miz Colbana.”
Oh, shit. There was only one person he’d refer to as My Lady. And she was as much trouble as the current thorn in my side. Jude was deadly, but at least he was a predictable pain in the ass. The leader of the cats was not.
This was bad. This was so very bad. Worse, the man sitting across from me had gone all formal-like, making this sound like an official request. Technically, I could refuse him, but when they got formal and I said no, it was a pain in my ass, because they talked amongst themselves and fewer were likely to look me up later down the road. I already had too little business coming my way as it was.
Oh, well. I’d just move. I’d already been thinking about Boise, right?
“I’m afraid my schedule is full.” Sliding my blade home, I reached for the phone. “I’ve got someplace to be in twenty. You’ll have to see yourself out, cat.”
“We’ll pay you fifty thousand dollars. Regardless of the outcome.”
“I’m afraid I’ll be tied up for the rest of the month.” Giving him a vague smile, I grabbed a pen and started jotting notes down like mad—whatever came to mind. Busy, busy, busy, see? I don’t have time to work for My Lady.
I wasn’t working for the damn Alphas. And I wasn’t—
He dropped something on my desk.
In that moment, I really hated him.
“We all have weaknesses,” he murmured. “Me, I like a stacked redhead, cold beer, and pizza. I hear you have a soft spot for kids…can’t stand to see them hurt.”
“Beer is kind of pointless, seeing as how most of you burn through it before you can get drunk,” I muttered, trying to pretend the picture in front of me wasn’t getting to me. But it was. It was getting to me badly. Shit, how old was he?
“Hey. I like the taste.” He reached over and plucked up the picture, lifting it until it was all I could see. “He’s sixteen.”
I glared at him. “No fucking way.” That kid didn’t look like he’d so much as kissed puberty. Skinny as a rail, still soft in the face.
He shrugged. “We tend to mature a little later. He’s…hitting later than most. His name is Doyle. He’s my Lady’s cousin and he’s been missing for a week.”
Not my problem, I told myself. Taking the picture, I turned it face down and then looked back at the man standing across from my desk. “I can’t help you.”
“Two weeks ago, he finally started showing signs of spiking.” He paused, his eyes narrowing on my face.
Weird eyes. Deadly eyes. They were storm cloud gray, swirling and darkening into black until that was all I saw. “You know what spiking is, little girl?”
“It’s when an adolescent shifter tries to change for the first time.” They weren’t always successful. There were two ways to become a shapeshifter. You got infected. Infection happened with a bite or through unprotected sex. Or you were born with it and actually, being born with it was still being infected