Murder Mittens (Magical Romantic Comedies #13) - R.J. Blain Page 0,73

shield of makeup protecting me from the flinches of people who couldn’t handle scars, I enjoyed being able to watch the crowd without the crowd watching me in an equal blend of horror, confusion, and uncertainty.

I waited for two hours, refreshing my drink several times and going to the bathroom once, before my patience bore fruit. Haverly strolled in, and if I hadn’t seen his picture in the CDC’s bounty file on him, I would’ve believed him to be just another man on the way to work.

I made use of my new phone’s camera, pretended I read something on my phone, and recorded my target. My phone began doing its job, and I wondered how sensitive the microphone on it was. Had I been living in the dark ages out of stubborn pride? What could my new toy do?

It would take me some time to figure out a good way to thank my uncle for my new toy.

Haverly chatted up the women in the line with him, and I blessed my sensitive ears, which informed me the bastard flirted, complimenting the women while digging for their relationship status. The first woman wisely refused to give him the time of day. The second showed off her left ring finger, which had a wedding ring and an engagement band on it.

The third, young enough she likely had a teen tacked onto her age, fidgeted when she drew the asshole’s attention. “Your boyfriend must be a lucky man,” he said.

I wondered if it was a crime of any sort to flirt with an underage girl. From the day my daddy realized his little girl was growing into a woman, he’d given me one piece of advice: needing bail beat letting some asshole take advantage.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she stammered.

I needed to pull the girl aside and give her some lessons on life, especially when it came to an idiot wolf on the prowl—one with a bounty out for his living head. I picked up my hot chocolate with one hand, rose from my seat, and made a show of preparing to leave, while I kept my phone pointed at my target.

“It’s my lucky day, then. How about I buy you a coffee, little lady?”

I regretted having left my new scissors in my hotel with my lion. I was relieved I’d left my lion in the hotel, as it would have devolved into a brawl already.

Sebastian had zero use for creepy abusers, and I bet he liked working the drug circuits because he got to smackdown creepy abusers every time he made a hit.

“You don’t need to do that,” she replied, her tone uncertain. She glanced in the direction of the shop’s door.

I’d brought down enough wolves to understand if her nerve broke and she ran, he’d chase because that was what wolves did when prey ran. I’d seen enough predator and prey responses to recognize he hunted.

“Oh, but I do.”

How utterly despicable. I went to the back of the line, careful to keep recording the pair, and I nudged the woman in front of me, giving a nod in the direction of my phone. She looked, and she nodded, making room so I could take her spot in line. The women needed little prodding to let me cut in line to get closer, and the men in the line frowned, staring at my phone before looking at the pair ahead of us. But, after watching for a moment, they, too, understood the problem and let me move up the line until I was behind Haverly’s potential victim.

He was so focused on his prey that he paid me no attention.

The stench of fear polluted the girl’s scent.

“It’s just a coffee,” he encouraged, and he sniffed the air, smiling at what his nose told him. “What do you like in yours?”

“If you’re buying, I’ll take mine black,” I said, looking the wolf over. “Hey, baby girl. Your dad’s outside waiting for you. He texted me.”

Thanks to the CDC’s awful perfume, I doubted the wolf could smell much about me at all. And if he smelled male cat on my clothes, nobody would believe for a moment I was a male anything.

The so-called baby girl whirled to face me, and her eyes widened. “Really?” she squeaked.

“He’s a bit cranky, so you better go see what he wants,” I lied.

I’d never seen somebody run so fast in my life, and I chuckled over her quick acceptance of the escape I offered. “That girl. I swear, she’s

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