Page 2 of Hellcat

"My tummy!" she replied with her best smile.

Ah, fuck.

"All right. If you're good, I'll cook tonight."

"Yay!" the little girl let go of his legs and rushed to their alpha male's side, holding her hand up. Rygan Wayland high fived her.

Ian glared. He'd been played like a goddamn newbie. Again.

"Getting a baby to do your dirty work?" he asked the alpha. "You could ask me yourself if you want me to cook, Rye."

The alpha shrugged unapologetically. "Girl always gets results."

He had a point.

Of course, as the head of their pride, Rye could have ordered him to cook, every day, all day—but that just wasn't the kind of alpha he was. Hence why Ian had followed him from the very beginning.

"I need to go shopping," he said. "Do we need to take Cutie to Valley Vets? I can do it while I’m out.”

His offer was very casual. Rye didn't read anything into it. He could have, if they'd been in their feline forms; as alpha, Rye could brush their minds and catch their superficial thoughts. Again, Rye wasn't the type to do it. They only communicated mentally when they wanted to.

"Yeah?" Rye asked, surprised. "That'd be a great help, thanks. He has an appointment for his second set of shots at five. Does that leave you enough time to get some sleep?"

Ian checked the black clock hung on the living room wall. Six twenty.

"Should do, if I go now," he replied. "Say hi to everyone for me."

On that note, he turned around, and headed outdoors, jogging home.

Ian was smiling, his mind traveling to the very enticing veterinarian he'd seen the last time he'd gone to Valley Vets.

It was unlikely that he'd see her again; there were a number of vets in the practice. But if he caught even a glance, it'd certainly be a nice bonus.

Chapter 2

The weather was kind in California through the winter, but Ian could do without the rain. His cat basically wanted to hibernate on rainy days. He grunted when his alarm rang at four, and dragging his heels to the shower took considerable effort.

When he patrolled, Ian wore dark greens, browns, and grays, so those colors bored him; he grabbed a pair of jeans and a white sweater, did his hair, and put some cologne on. Once he was done with the routine, he laughed in the mirror. Cologne, really? What the fuck. And who bothered calculatingly messing up their hair when it was raining? He was acting like he had a date or something. And he didn't even know the chick's name. He remembered her name tag, though. T.Martin. Dr. T. Martin.

She had big brown eyes, endless lashes, and the ass of a damn goddess. He'd noticed it even though she'd been wearing scrubs. Scrubs, for Christ's sake.

The lady was probably taken, but it didn't hurt to look good, just in case she wasn't.

He picked up Cutie at the main house and got him in a crate at the back of his truck. The dog was way too excitable to let him roam free in the cab.

Cutie howled like someone was pulling his claws out with pincers, as he always did when they crated him.

"I know, I know. Poor you. Fifteen minutes and we're there. Promise."

The vet clinic was one town over, close to Hawthorne. Ian stiffened on the highway. While their alpha female had lived in a city for years before settling in Lakesides, most shifters couldn't stand cities, and for good reasons. Too much noise, pollution, and too many packs, prides, and other supernaturals. Cities were battlefields. They also tended to be full of anti-shifters, anti-vampires, anti-paranormals; one of the reasons why Rye had had trouble finding a volunteer to head to Valley Vets.

"We're here, boy," he announced, snapping a leash onto Cutie's collar.

Something else the spoiled pup didn't approve of. They rarely needed to put him on a leash in Lakesides—the dog was very well-behaved, and supervised by lots of shifters. But there would be other animals at the vet's and it was common courtesy.

"I know, I know," he said in reply to the pup's moans. "It'll be over soon."

Cutie whined all the way to the door. The moment they passed it, the bulldog beamed and rushed forward, yapping happily as he looked to the couple of people behind the counter.

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