Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,13

two years ago.” He shook his head. “A hob died here.”

Nothing for it, I had to ask. “How?”

“Davis’s version of the story was the guy fell into the compacter. The hob’s wife saw it happen, and she’s the one who called the conclave. She said Davis pushed the guy. They’d been playing that weird-ass form of hobgoblin polo, and Davis’s mount—her husband—stumbled over a mallet handle and they face planted. Davis lost the match and, according to her, took the loss out on her husband.”

I frowned. “That wasn’t in his file.”

“Davis was cleared of all charges.” Shaw seemed unsurprised. “According to his file, he has no priors. But two guys I worked with at the time had each been out here for minor disturbances.”

That meant I could kiss my easy money goodbye. “I appreciate the heads-up.”

The straightforward approach had ended with me tossed out on my ass in front of Shaw, who had taught me better, which made the incident ten times more humiliating. Time to reevaluate.

The edge of his lips curved in anticipation of a smile. “I can help, if you want.”

“That’s all right.” I dusted myself off. “I can take it from here.”

I took it all right. Three more times I entered the building and three more times the hobs booted me out the door. By the time I stomped across the parking lot to where Shaw sat in the bright cab of his mammoth truck, the fingers on my left hand were itching. When I reached him, he silenced his radio.

He scanned me head to toe. “You’re hurt.”

I touched my busted top lip, wincing like an idiot. Of course it hurt. Davis had headbutted me, and the wound was taking its sweet time mending. Must be some kind of allergic reaction to hobgoblin.

“It will heal.” The scrapes and bruises were already mending. “That is one mean little bastard.”

Shaw propped his elbow in his open window and set his chin on his palm. “My offer still stands.”

“Good.” My shoulders slumped, knowing I wouldn’t have to ask outright. “I appreciate it.”

“I’ll help. I’ll even let you keep the bounty...” he opened his door and joined me on the asphalt, “...if you agree to have dinner with me.”

“No dice.” I backed away slowly. “We just agreed—”

“It’s not like that.” He held up his hands, palms out. “Nothing romantic. Just business.”

“Oh.” I squared my shoulders. “In that case, sure, I can do dinner.”

He strolled past me, hands in his pockets, grin on his face as he headed for the recycling center.

Shaw called over his shoulder, “Do you remember the first thing I told you about incubi?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “They’ll say anything to get in my pants.”

The scent of patchouli drifted in his wake. “Exactly.”

Chapter Nine

Whistles and catcalls blasted us as Shaw and I entered the recycling center. I cocked an eyebrow at him, but Shaw had gone bye-bye. Tendrils of mist clouded his pupils until his eyes were white voids. His complexion paled. Veins in his face and neck grew more pronounced, pulsing bright blue beneath his skin. The hand nearest me quivered while bone-white claws sprouted from the tips of his fingers.

A shiver of anticipation tingled through my limbs. Somehow it was a comfort seeing handsome Shaw appearing every bit as monstrous as I sometimes felt on the inside. He looked too normal, too perfect, and I was relieved to be reminded he wasn’t. Not at all. He was pure fae, pure trouble...pure temptation.

The first time I saw him like this, bare and real, I asked him out afterward.

Of course, I had been thirteen at the time. He let me down easy by promising we would revisit the topic once I was legal. He had been trying to make me feel better by proving I wasn’t alone in my otherness. Compared to his chilling transformation, the runes gradually creeping up my arm were only a minor tell that I wasn’t one hundred percent human, no matter how much I once wished I was.

Davis kept his back turned until he made his goal then faced us with his makeshift bat raised.

“This is the last time, girlie.” He paused while his gaze swept over Shaw. “You look familiar.”

A low rumble of sound from Shaw filled the sudden quiet. “You made her bleed.”

I’m not sure which of us was more stunned—Davis or me. I’m betting me. I bled all the time. It was an occupational hazard.

“I asked her nicely to come back later.” Davis’s throat flexed. “You ought to