Page 88 of It All Started with a Bite

Somehow, social media manager suited Hugh to a T.

Janet came out of her office and rocked to a stop at my disheveled state. “What the heck happened to you?”

“Our surveillance op kinda failed.”

Janet eyed Gavin warily. “He didn’t set fire to something again, did he?”

The dragon newt stormed toward his desk, tail popping out and swinging irritably.

Nigel poked his head out of a corridor. “Did you guys get any footage of Wheeler?” Several tentacles manifested in his agitation.

“No.” Didi made a face. “But you might be able to find something from the cameras in Bloody Good Coffee.”

Nigel adjusted his glasses nervously. “I’ll see what I can do.” He headed back toward his lair.

Mindy materialized through the break room wall.

“I’ve color-coded the incident reports you guys need to fill in,” she said briskly. She paused at my sight and wisely elected not to comment. “They’re on your desk.” She perked up when she spotted the boogeyman’s retreating form. “Want me to help with anything, Nigel? I’ve got some free time.”

A strangled sound escaped the boogeyman. It was followed by a rushed “I—I would like that very much!”

The rest of us watched Mindy disappear after Nigel.

“Ten bucks says he manifests all his tentacles at once,” Didi muttered.

“Do you think Mindy knows he has the hots for her?” Janet asked warily.

We all exchanged a glance.

“Nah,” we muttered at the same time, Bo and Hugh included.

“By the way,” Hugh asked curiously. “Whatexactlyhappened during your surveillance op? Abby looks like she’s been rolling around in dirt.”

I was saved from having to explain by Samuel’s arrival. He took one look at my scraped hands and torn clothes and lowered his brows in a way that chilled the air.

“My office. Now.”

“Uh-oh,” Hugh murmured. “Someone’s in trouble.”

Samuel cut his eyes to his brother. Hugh blinked innocently.

Bo gave me a cautious look. “Want me to come with you?” His ears flattened a little at Samuel’s expression. “I’ll go check out the muffins in the break room,” he added hastily.

“You do that,” Samuel said coolly.

I plodded reluctantly after the Hawthorne alpha as he headed for his office, conscious of the stares burning into my back.

Samuel closed the door and indicated the couch, his jaw tight. “Sit. I’ll get the first-aid kit.”

“I’m fine,” I protested. “Werewolf healing, remember?”

His eyes flashed amber behind his glasses. “Sit. Down.”

I scurried over to the couch.

Samuel went to a cabinet and returned with the kit. He crouched in front of me and carefully took my hand. The mate bond sang at his touch.

I swallowed, suddenly conscious that we were alone.

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