“Did you hear the shots or see anything suspicious?”
I shook my head.
“What about them?” He motioned to my sisters.
“Celia’s inner beast is a golden tigress. If she didn’t sense anything, the others wouldn’t have, either.”
Aric didn’t typically answer for me. And it would have bothered me had I not picked up on the underlying protectiveness of his tone.
Paul gave me the once-over. “But she’s not were.”
Aric’s tone grew more of an edge. “No. She can’t heal.”
The corners of Paul’s lips curved into a smile. “What a shame.”
Judging by the way Aric leapt over the body and wedged his way between us, Paul didn’t pity my lack of healing abilities. “Watch it, Paul.”
Paul cocked his head to the side. Something he saw in Aric forced the smirk from his face. “Jesus, Aric,” he said.
I glanced at both of them, confused about what had transpired.
“Just get him out of here,” Aric growled.
Paul leaned against the wall and whistled. Two more wereraccoons appeared sporting thick rubber gloves—the kind I suspected could be found at any local nuclear power plant. We moved out of the way. One of the weres grabbed the legs and the other the wrists. On the count of three, they lifted. The air rippled and translucent waves pushed against my face.
And that’s when the body exploded.
CHAPTER 2
A sonic boom blasted my eardrums. I landed on the couch face-first, Aric on top of me, shielding my body with his. Something hit the wooden floor and glass shattered. Thick, polluted air tightened my chest the moment I attempted to take a breath. It was like inhaling muddy water through my lungs. And the stench—good Lord, a toxic waste dump smelled rosier. I coughed, the sharp smell stinging my eyes. I tried to rise. Aric kept me down. He adjusted his position on top of me so I didn’t bear the brunt of his two-hundred-plus form, allowing me to turn my face enough to see . . . blackness. Or should I say, a solid mass of green?
“Stay down.” Aric’s voice sounded strained. My sisters gagged and hacked. Someone threw open the windows and the sliding glass doors leading out to our deck. Horrible retching ensued from the direction of our powder room.
Outside, Taran voiced her concerns. “Son of a bitch! What the hell is this shit?”
The good news was my skin didn’t melt, my bones remained in one piece, and no funky thing with tentacles attempted to birth through my belly. One never knew what one might have encountered in the supernatural world.
I tried to slow my breathing, not wanting to inhale more of the foul odor than necessary. If only the rising heat between Aric and me allowed it. My tigress, hell, she thought Aric on top was hot stuff and that we should make out with him while we waited for the air to clear.
I didn’t agree.
I twisted a little, hoping to ease him off me. All that did was rub his body against mine and send quivers jetting to my already alert girl parts.
Oh . . . crap.
I’d promised myself I’d keep it together the next time I saw Aric—I was tough, strong, formidable . . .
“Try to breathe through your mouth.” Aric’s instructions came out in panted whispers.