Page 37 of Muzzled

Good optimization of space.

Her thumb drifted toward the call button before she remembered that even his voice seemed to scare off the shade they were aiming to catch.

Heading to bed now. Don’t go too far.

There was a long pause before his response came in.

Do they make cell phone holders for dogs?

Before she could answer, he replied to his own question.

*

Never mind. Thelogistics would be too complicated. Dogs don’t have opposable thumbs.

Have a good night.

Dogs don’t have opposable thumbs.

She plugged her phone in and opened her pack of charcoals, then weeded out the smallest and used her sharpening knife to edge the others.

Ryan had essentially shut down once the pizza arrived, completely focused on establishing a plan to monitor the shade and dodging any personal questions she tossed his way. He’d driven loops around her street, pulling over after each pass to jot down notes and add to his sketch of the area, every line precisely drawn, his writing almost too perfect to be handwritten.

He’d placed the chain collar and leash into his glove box, the slight disdain on his face when he shut them from sight something she hadn’t noticed earlier.

She reached over to her phone and sent off a text to him, unsure if he was still in possession of opposable thumbs or if he’d already shifted.

It’s the muzzle on those pieces I did that got to you, isn’t it?

When no response came in immediately, she continued to sharpen her pencils, watching her phone while she finished up and cleaned the charcoal and lead from her fingers.

Muzzles are used on animals who struggle with control over their impulses.

She read over his response a few times, guilt pummeling her mind as she flipped between what she knew of Ryan and the images she’d created.

Everything about him was controlled, from his fluid movements to his careful speech to his meticulous notes. His shirts were never wrinkled, his shoes never dirty. His motel room towels were neatly hung, his laptop and phone cords carefully untangled and draped over the dresser.

To imply his control was lacking was likely one of the greatest insults she could have inadvertently tossed his way.

I’m sorry about those pieces.

There was another long pause before his response buzzed in.

Never apologize for what you see in someone.

Chapter Fourteen

“Not that I’mcomplaining about the uninterrupted sleep, but it’s been three nights. Maybe it’s gone for good,” Micah suggested, passing Ryan’s keys back to him and getting into the passenger seat. “That would be a good thing, right?”

She watched as his lips drew into a tight line, his eyes showing the long hours he’d been putting into patrolling her neighborhood day and night. He started the car and signaled before turning onto the street. “Yes and no,” he said slowly, reaching down to grab his sunglasses. “An escaped shade isn’t an ideal situation and tracking it down on a global scale is next to impossible, given the weakness of the scent, the unpredictability, and the fact it can hide out for decades undetected.” He rolled his shoulders out and straightened his back. “Leaving you alone now is great, yes, but it opens the possibility of it returning long after I’m back in the underworld, and you’d be on your own to deal with it. Again.”

“Right,” she muttered, watching him closely as he stifled a yawn. “Are you sure you’re up for this? I can go pick up what I need without you if you’re okay with me taking your car.”

Pulling into the motel lot, he shook his head. “All I need is a quick shower and I’ll be good to go.” He got out of the car and shut the door, muttering under his breath as he reopened it and grabbed his wallet. “You know the drill.”

She saluted him with a smile. “Call if I see it, stay in the open until you arrive.” Waving her phone at him, she shooed him toward the motel. “I’m going to amuse myself with cat pictures.”

“As long as you remain aware of your surroundings,” he called out before he walked inside.

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