Page 5 of Rifted Hearts
A loud bark caused Kaveh to pause, and all four men turned to see Lyall bounding up to them.
Great,nowthe mangy pain in the ass made an appearance. If Kaveh could sense that half-human Remi wasn’t who he appeared to be, Lyall would make him even more suspicious, perhaps even hostile. Remi didn’t need that kind of trouble.
“Is he yours?” Kaveh crouched down to give Lyall a scratch behind the ears. “He’s a gorgeous dog. Great conformation for a Scottish terrier.” He patted the dog’s head and stroked his back, showing far more interest in the goddamn mutt than in Remi. “He does need to stay on his leash outside the room, of course. What’s his name?”
“My apologies. Lyall must have slipped out the doorwhen I wasn’t looking.” Remi tried to give Lyall a death glare, but the terrier was too busy wagging his tail and rubbing against Kaveh to even acknowledge Remi. “I’m sure Kat here is very knowledgeable, but hearing your stories about treating Riftworld mons would make for great streaming material. More views equals more business for the ranch.”
“Animals, not monsters.” Kaveh sounded curt. Damn it to hell, why weren’t Remi’s seduction charms working on him? He should be eating out of Remi’s hand right now, and instead the vet was allowing Lyall to give him a wet doggie kiss on the neck.
Kaveh stood up, and Lyall moved on to sniff Kat’s crotch.
Okay, Remi couldn’t blame the dog for that.
“Our latest baby animal ambassador in the zoo needs my attention.” Kaveh ignored Remi, instead directing a charming smile in the dog’s direction. “Don’t worry, Lyall. I’ll get treats for you the next time we meet.”
Kaveh strode off, which at least provided the consolation of checking out how nicely the man’s jeans showed off his ass.
Remi forced himself to continue smiling then bent and picked up Lyall. He was sure the damn dog was laughing at him. “Well, I’d better get this little troublemaker back to my room.”
After stompingback to his cabin in a fury, Remi dropped Lyall onto the floor of his room, turned around, and slammed the door.
“That was a fucking disaster.” He directed that comment behind him, where Lyall was supposed to be, but of coursethe damn dog had already jumped up on the bed, regarding Remi with an expression of smug satisfaction. “We are so not sharing a bed on this little adventure. Get off the covers. Now.”
Lyall rolled around on the bed’s wool coverlet, which had scarlet-and-black designs that would show every one of the coarse dog hairs he was rubbing on the fabric. He knew how much Remi hated that.
“I’m asking for help here, and you’re screwing around.” Remi collapsed onto the leather couch and threw a decorative pillow at Lyall, which the terrier dodged with ease. “Our target thought I was less interesting than a two-day-old cricket-protein sandwich, but he was fawning all over you.”
Lyall nodded then stretched his paws out, sphinxlike, giving him an expectant look.
“I’ll take off your collar if you tell me what happened back there.” Remi held his palms out in a beseeching gesture. “Plus, I’ll throw in some beef jerky. This place is a ranch—they might even carry the real thing, not the lab-grown stuff.”
Lyall shook his head, his bright black eyes gleaming with mischief. Why did he have to be so difficult? Possibly because of the whole forced servitude thing, but that wasn’t Remi’s fault.
“I’ll take the collar off and leave it off for the whole trip, not including the plane ride back because you have to stay in the carrier anyway.” Remi hated being on the wrong side of a negotiation.
The dog kept staring at him.
Remi folded. “All right, no collar and I won’t stop you going near the rift. Or tell on you when I get back either.”
The terrier let out a bark of triumph, and Remi walked over to unsnap the collar. A moment later, Lyall sprawledout on the coverlet in human form—not wearing a stitch of clothing.
Ugh. This trip was getting worse by the minute.
Lyall’s naked human shape was a twenty-something man with silver hair tossed back in an asymmetric cut, with wiry hair of the same color over his chest that formed a happy trail leading down between his legs. Remi found Lyall’s incessant bragging about his cock size to be annoying, but he had to admit all that boasting had something to back it up. Lyall was hung more like a horse than a dog. He was shorter than Remi but had a compact muscular body Remi would have totally gone for had he not been—Lyall. The two of them had grown up together since Remi was fifteen, fighting constantly. Well, Remi had grown up, while the dog remained the same age. Lyall had been born in the Riftworld, so who the fuck knew how old he was.
Remi’s father had won a mysterious bet with Lyall that led to the hellhound being an indentured servant to the Boston-based Colony, Remi’s large and dysfunctional clan. Since the family business plan had been based on vintage Mafia films, Lyall’s jobs involved intimidating enemies and working as a bodyguard—or as the dog put it, “Babysitting goddamn little rats like you.”
“Put your living leathers on before I lose my lunch.” Remi scrounged around in his carry-on and pulled out a leather cord with a large fang dangling from it. He threw it at Lyall, who caught it without looking. Remi’s father had told him Lyall couldn’t have any Riftworld tech on this mission, even the dog’s bio armor, which could expand from the creepy necklace to cover his human alter form.
Well, what his father didn’t know hopefully wouldn’t come back to bite Remi in the ass. “Tell me what you know, you furry bastard.”
“Your animal doctor smells like a drakone,” Lyall said, “and they’re resistant to psychic attacks. That’s why your freaky mind sex thing didn’t work, but he couldn’t tell you’re part ratkind. He certainly had no idea what I was, or he wouldn’t have promised me doggie treats.”
Lyall could transform into both an Earth dog and a full human manifestation, at least when he wasn’t wearing his servant collar. His true Riftworld form resembled a huge canine monster from ancient human legend. He was awfully snippy when his unintelligible clan name was mispronounced, so Remi and his family called him what humans called the species—a hellhound. It was an apt enough description. Drakones and hellhounds did not get along, which gave Lyall exactly one thing in common with the Colony.
“Kaveh works for them, but he can’t be a drakone.” Remi flung himself back on the couch, wondering why he had agreed to such outrageous terms. Lyall had to be lying to him. Granted, Remi had only met one drakone in his life, a terrifying experience he had no intention of repeating, while Lyall had actual experience fighting them.“A lizard man impression, maybe, but not a perfect human transformation.”
Kaveh had a damn perfect human body, in fact. Broad shoulders, big strong hands?—
