Heir of the Dog Black Dog - Hailey Edwards Page 0,14

teach her—”

“If you finish with my place,” I snarled, “I’m going to peel your hide like a moldy banana.”

Shaw’s lips curved in my direction. It wasn’t a pretty smile. It was tinged with hunger and made me desperate to cross my legs or invest in a full-body chastity belt. A chastity suit? Was that a thing?

His attention riveted on Davis. “Apologize.”

Davis folded his twiggy arms across his barrel chest. “I won’t.”

A gentle breeze teased flyaway hairs into my eyes. The earthy scent it carried made water pool in my mouth. When the lure hooked the other hobs, cheers for Shaw grew deafening. Davis swiped his mouth with the back of his arm. His chest pumped harder, his nostrils flaring as he inflated his lungs.

“Shaw.” I reached for him. “It’s not a big deal. Let’s slap a restraining Word on him and go.”

Forget handcuffs. Not only were some fae allergic to metals other than iron, they were a pain to keep on hand. It was smarter to use one of the conclave-sanctioned binding Words to subdue unruly suspects than risk lawsuits later. Fae may not be human, but they sure loved the mortal court system.

Where I touched Shaw’s arm, those fingertips sizzled. I jerked back and flung my hand until the skin regenerated. This was not good. This was an incubus in meltdown. Grinding my teeth, I grabbed him.

“Can I talk to you outside?” The smell of burning flesh turned my stomach.

Shaw glanced down where we touched, and the fire in his flesh extinguished. “I— Sure.”

I looped my arm through his, half dragging him from the building. Partway to the nearest exit, I shot a warning glare at Davis. “You’ve got five minutes. Say your goodbyes and make your arrangements.”

“Five minutes.” He bobbed his head while keeping an eye on Shaw. “That’ll do.”

Damn skippy it would.

Once outside, I ushered Shaw toward his truck and backed him against the rear fender.

“What the hell was that?” I pinned his shoulder. “I’ll tell you what it wasn’t—helpful.”

“Sorry.” His eyes were clearing. “I wasn’t myself back there.”

“Is something...?” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it, if I had the right to ask. “Are you okay?”

His hand reached up to cover mine. “I’m hungry, that’s all.”

“You’re hungry?” He used to last days between feedings. “You just fed.”

His color returned as his jaw took on a stubborn set.

I exhaled through my teeth. Not my problem. His diet was his issue.

“Go eat.” I stepped back. “I’ll wrap up here.” I remembered his offer to let me keep the full bounty. “I’ll keep your name off the paperwork.”

“I appreciate it.” He ducked his head. “About dinner...?”

“Sure.” If I gave Davis much longer, he might catch a second wind. “Why not?”

Behind me I heard Shaw climb into his truck and slam the door. The engine turned over, and he sat there idling. I didn’t look back, didn’t check and didn’t ask why he hadn’t peeled out of the parking lot.

While Davis was feeling compliant, I went inside and read him his rights, which he recited along with me. Why, no. That never gets old. I bound him from inflicting harm or escaping then I shoved him into my car.

Not for the first time, I wished the conclave would assign us take-home cars so my personal vehicle wasn’t subjected to bare butt cheeks. I used to tuck blankets over the rear bench seat, but all that accomplished was letting suspects know how gross I found the prospect of their various body parts contacting the fabric. Once they realized that, they made a point of rubbing themselves all over the seat. Now I just let it go. Dripping blood, weeping pus or otherwise leaking bodily fluids? Great. Hop on in and sit on down.

Amazing how little they cared about wrecking my property if I gave the impression I didn’t care either. Shutting the door behind Davis, I blocked out all thoughts except those of the bonus I was about to receive. There would be too few zeroes to compensate for this, but I needed the cash.

Lately, even after taking so many crap cases, I always owed more than I made.

I mean, I could tell Mom the truth. That when I hit eighteen and accepted conclave employment, the support payments to her for raising a magically gifted minor had stopped. But she had a newly minted bank note for her car, and she loved it. Losing that income meant she lost the mini Cooper.

I could last a while longer, a few more payments