Page 60 of Golden Eagle

“I love how you think I can somehow control all of the ‘human police.’”

“You can try,” Nik said, some of the confidence coming back to his voice, returning her smirk now, the shape of their mouths the same.

“Ass,” she said, warmly.

Nikita breathed a laugh. He caught Sasha’s hand in his own, gave it a quick, hard, reassuring squeeze, then stepped away so he could dig out another cigarette. “WhereisLanny?” he asked.

She shrugged, and it looked too casual. Forced. “Dunno. Nobody tells me shit.”

Oh no, Sasha thought, and started to respond, to reassure her, when he caught Lanny’s scent. Close and coming closer, blown around the corner by the breeze. “He’s here,” he said instead.

Sure enough, Lanny rounded the corner a moment later, dressed as he usually was for work, in jeans, a plain dark shirt, and his thick leather jacket. Badge on his belt.

He had a whole mess of healing bruises down one side of his face.

“Hmm,” Nik hummed, and blew out a long plume of smoke.

Trina hadn’t been slouching, exactly, but she straightened. A slight movement, a stiffening of her spine, and the way Lanny’s gaze snapped to her, as he approached them, told Sasha he’d noticed it.

“I got your text,” Lanny said with a casual wave. He put his hands in his pockets afterward, and drew to a halt on the damp concrete of the loading bay below the platform. Tipped his head up to look at them, gaze flicking briefly toward the two of them.

Sasha knew when he caught the change in their scents. The new way they overlapped. He knew from his time spent with Fulk and Annabel le Strange that mated pairs smelled different; like they lived in each other’s skin. He didn’t know if it was the same for a vampire and wolf pair. But sex was one of the hardest scents to scrub off.

Lanny sensed it, judging by the way his eyes widened, and the way a sideways grin slowly tugged at his mouth. “Hey, guys,” he said, and Sasha knew right away that his tone, all cat-with-the-canary, would get Nik’s hackles bristling.

Nik gave a quick, sharp growl, and blew more smoke. “Where’ve you been, shithead?”

“Where’veyoubeen?” Lanny countered.

“Do you remember,” Nikita said with deadly calm, “what happened the last time we fought?”

It hadn’t been a fight, really. More of a choking out.

Lanny chuckled. “Dude, don’t be so sensitive. Congrats! Sasha, kid, congrats, man. I don’t know about this shithead, but you deserve it.”

Sasha tried to smother a laugh in his hand, but of course Nik heard, and shot him a dirty look over his shoulder.

Trina said, “What happened to your face?” And all the humor drained out of the situation.

“Oh. I. Uh.” Lanny cleared his throat, and winced. “Kinda got mugged.”

“Mugged,” she said, without inflection.

“Yeah.” Pained smile. “I was with the guys; ran down to the bodega to grab more Gatorade after our workout. Ran into these four vamps, and, uh, they were big.”

“Vampires mugged you,” Nikita said with disdain.

“Well, not very well,” Lanny countered. He touched his face. “Left a mark, though. We sent ‘em on their way, but they had our scent.” He turned to Trina, then, expression going earnest. “I didn’t want to lead them back to your place in case they were tracking me.”

“You didn’t call,” she said. Her tone was that careful kind, without inflection, one that hinted at incandescent anger kept in rigid check. A tone that had the potential to herald disaster.

“Yeah…” His hand shifted to the back of his neck; a blush was coming up beneath his bruises. “I was…unconscious?”

“You don’t know if you were unconscious? Jamie couldn’t call and tell me?”

“I…”

She blew out a breath and said, “Whatever. Glad you’re okay.” That sounded grudging. “There’s another vic. Not ours, but chewed up all to hell. Nik says it’s Gustav and the ferals again.”

---