Page 27 of Feral

I let her go like she was a hot iron and stepped back. I’d have to be careful how close I allowed myself to get around her. She was trouble, and the last thing I needed was more of that.

“Sorry,” I said, clearing my throat, “it’s not every day I almost see a lass mowed down by a car.”

“Yes, I’m sorry about that. I can sometimes get very distracted, but I assure you, I will be focused and aware on this job.”

“That’s good.”

I waited as she stared up at me and shifted from foot to foot. Her scent was teasing my nose, like a hook in a fish’s mouth, reeling me in and making it difficult not to lean toward her.

“Great, yeah, okay. Do you want to…”

A gurgling rumble rolled up from her stomach. She clapped her hands over her belly and gave me a wide eyed look of pure embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t had much to eat today between the fascinating artifacts we got in and the research I was doing about your mating rituals, which didn’t really lead to anything because there aren’t any records on the subject. Well, no reliable records I should say, it’s honestly one of the most frustrating parts of my job, trying to sift truth from fiction. I mean you would not believe how many authors insist that Lycans and Werewolves are the same creatures when so clearly they…aren’t…um…”

Her voice faded, lips moving in little pulses as if she were trying to find more words to add to the virtual fire hose she’d lobbed at me. In spite of the fact that I was tensing every muscle to resist whatever power she was unknowingly using, her voice had reeled me in and now I was close once again, my eyes intent on hers. I had to grudgingly admit that I wanted to know what else was in that mind, how was it so full that it overflowed and rushed out of those infinitely kissable lips? I took a step back and crossed my arms, schooling my features into a glare that usually had grown men scurrying away. I hated the thought of intimidating her, but maybe it was one way to get whatever magic she was using on me to dissipate and not come back.

“Sorry,” she cleared her throat again and also took a small step back. “I can get a little verbose.”

“I see that.”

Her stomach growled again and she squeezed her eyes shut. I sighed, and swore under my breath. She was hungry and I couldn’t just demand that she wait to get something for supper.

“There’s a pub up on the corner,” I gestured toward it, “would ya like to get a bite before…uh…”

“Thebite?” she asked, grinning up at me.

And damn it, in spite of how hard I tried not to, my lips ticked up a little.

“Exactly.”

“Sure, that would be nice.”

I made sure to keep my strides small so that Daphne wouldn’t have to run to keep up with me, even though I really did want this done as soon as possible.

“I wonder,” she said, “if I might ask you a few questions about your clan, for our cover story?”

“I don’t ken if that’s necessary, yer only going to be there a few days.”

“Oh…yes, I suppose…but if I’m to be your mate—”

“Ya only need to appear to be,” I snapped, “and that doesn’t need twenty questions. Just a bite.”

“Oh. Alright,” her voice, so bright and confident a moment ago, became small and her smile wobbly.

The point was to get her to back off, but I didn’t want to take away the wonderful way she carried herself, or the spark of curiosity in her eye.

Can’t have both. Och, this going to be a long meal.

We walked the rest of the short distance in silence. I hadn’t known Daphne more than a few hours, but even I knew that her silence meant something was wrong. And, considering my behavior, it was probably my fault.

We found a table in the back and I squeezed into the booth. I missed the supernatural pubs in Dublin, of which there were many.

“What can I get you?” asked the waiter.

“Beer,” I said. “Meat pie.”

“Gin and tonic please, and a fish and chips.”

---