Page 1 of Monster Mistake

CHAPTER 1

“Look, you can’t tell this one you’ll rip his colon out through his ear if he refuses to surrender the dog to us, OK?”

Nowtherewas a sentence Justine Willet never thought she’d utter. But here she was.

The giant, hulking orc next to her rolled his head around on his thick neck, then cracked his knuckles. “I don’t see why I can’t speed the process.”

She sighed as she punched the buzzer on the ramshackle house’s front door. “Khill, it’s illegal to threaten people into giving up their pets.”

He shrugged. “It’s illegal to abuse animals, too. That doesn’t seem to stop any of these assholes.”

Justine pinched the bridge of her nose. They had this conversation every time they approached a dog owner about surrender in cases of neglect and abuse. He always wanted to threaten first and ask questions later. Or never. And frankly, she didn’t blame him for feeling that way. He wasn’t wrong. She admired his passion.

Actually, she admired a lot of things about Khill.

The broad shoulders? The long, thick, wavy black hair? The intense, black-as-sin eyes? The muscles rippling under his snug black T-shirt? The scalpel-sharp cheekbones and kissable pout? The fact that he was tall enough to make her—a strong, curvy woman who stood, in her bare feet, at 5’10”—feel like the daintiest of dainty flowers? She admired thehellout of it all.

She wasn’t even normally attracted to orcs. The tusks, pointy ears, and green skin didn’t normally do it for her. But on Khill, it all justworkedfor some reason. She wanted to trace her fingertips over the pointy tips of his ears and her tongue over the tusks that poked out a little over his pillow-y bottom lip. And that lush skin that reminded her of fresh spring grass…sigh. What she wouldn’t give to have that skin against hers.

And beyond his supernatural sexiness, Khill was just a great guy. Not that too many people ever got to see it. His resting serial killer face offered him a pretty big personal bubble of space, after all.

She knew him better than most people ever would, though, and he had a kind, gentle soul when it came to animals and anyone in need. Sure, he was grumpy. Hell, so was she. But he was the kind of man she could totally fall for.

It was just her unfortunate luck that her feelings were one-sided, and she’d been friend zoned in a big way. Hard.

But that was another story entirely, and none of it mattered today.

Whatdidmatter on this particularly sunny spring day was that while she admired Khill’s passion for animal welfare,his methods of helping her “convince” neglectful and abusive owners to surrender their pets were often less than…optimal.

Effective, though. And exactly how she’d choose to handle things if jail time wasn’t on the table.

Whatever she was going to say to Khill next was swallowed by the sound of the homeowner yanking the door open and practically snarling at her, “What the fuck doyouwant?”

Khill let out a growl that reminded Justine of an angry Rottweiler getting a rectal exam. She laid a hand on his arm to remind him not to threaten this guy. With wordsornoises. And holy crap, that was one hard, bulging bicep.

Which, again, was entirelynotthe point.

Justine cleared her throat. “Mr. Sanders, I’m a veterinarian here on behalf of the Monsters for Mutts dog rescue. One of your neighbors called because they were concerned about your dog.”

His beady eyes shifted over to Khill before landing on her again. “It was that nosy bitch across the street, wasn’t it?”

It was indeed. And the nosy bitch in question wasnota joy to talk to. Butshewasn’t wrong, either. Justine had already gotten a glimpse of the scrawny dog in the guy’s yard, and the poor thing was obviously being neglected. “It doesn’t matter who made the call, sir,” she pointed out. “I saw your dog, and even from the street, I can tell he has a serious case of mange and is severely underweight. If you’re having difficulty caring for the dog because of any…hardship…”

She’d practically choked on the wordhardship. Sanders was clearly having no trouble feeding himself, or say, buying beer. His barely concealed gut and the dozens of empty bottleslittering the porch told her that much. Meanwhile, that poor dog was starving and battling a raging skin condition that was very uncomfortable.

She was starting to rethink her order to Khill. This guy deserved to be threatened.

“…we can help,” she finished through gritted teeth.

Sanders leaned a shoulder against his doorframe and shot her a mulish look. “You can tell that hag I don’t answer to her. Or to you, for that matter, bitch.”

Justine didn’t even have time to process being called a bitch by a stranger before Khill had snagged Sanders by the throat, lifted him several inches off the ground, and slammed him back against a porch post. He leaned in close as the guy’s eyes bugged out and hissed, “Don’t. Call. Her. That.”

Oh, boy. This wasn’t going to end well. She grabbed Khill’s arm and tugged with every bit of strength she had, putting her full weight into it, but he didn’t budge. “It’s fine,” she said. “Really. I’m not offended. Just let him go.”

She understood why other people might be hurt or offended by being called a bitch, but Justine was used to it. Anyone as blunt as she tended to be needed to have a thick skin. Hell,bitchwasn’t even the worst thing she’d been called thatday. It certainly wasn’t worth murdering anyone over.

Sanders kicked his feet and clawed at the hand on his throat. His struggles weren’t any more effective than Justine’s. “Please,” she tried again. “Please, Khill.”

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