Page 42 of Feral

Next, Marcus withdrew a small gun that looked more like something out of a science fiction novel. It was silver and sleek with a coil in the center inside a clear casing where bullets would go in a more traditional gun.

“This the Electric Coiled Stunner,” Marcus said, “or the Stinger, as we’ve taken to calling it. It’s non-lethal and stuns the target with an electrical charge. The previous director didn’t use these much and so there aren’t many that are field approved at the moment. You’ve got one of the few so bring it back in one piece. At full charge, you can expel two minimal bolts or one strong one. A strong one will stop the heart of most Mundanes so be careful. Also, it takes one minute to recharge between uses, so keep that in mind.”

I nodded and took the gun with shaking hands.

“Do ya know how to fire a gun, lass?” Fraser asked.

I swallowed.

“Of course, it’s…well, you point and pull the trigger.”

His lips twisted in a wry expression and he came to stand behind me. His hands brought my arms up and he adjusted my hold on the gun. I was acutely aware of how similar this was to last night, the heat from his body radiating into mine. The bite mark pulsed and my heart began to pound.

“Now,” he said, his growly voice in my ear, “ya hold it like this, firm but not too tense.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Fraser adjusted my arms so that I was aiming at the wall and not at Marcus or Sprite. One of his hands tightened around mine, the length of his arm flush with mine. I longed to lean back into his body but I held still.

“Aim,” he breathed against my cheek, “pull the trigger while holdin’ the gun steady. And don’t close yer eyes.”

His lips skated against my cheek as he spoke and chills raced down my spine. The bite mark was now pulsing, a warm sensation starting to spread through my back. I turned to look at him and found Fraser’s eyes intense on my mark, his nostrils flared and I swore he let out a whimper before letting me go so fast that I fell forward at the loss of his steadying arms.

“Wow,” Sprite said, fanning themselves.

“Yeah,” Marcus sighed, eyes wide as he looked between us.

Fraser was now in the kitchen, busing himself with something, his back resolutely to me. I’d obviously embarrassed him with my reaction and if I didn’t lock this down, my mission was going to be ten times harder than it needed to be.

“Is there anything else?” I asked, slipping the gun into the holster that Marcus handed me. “Anything having to do with the supplies, that is.”

I was sure by the way that Marcus’ mouth snapped shut that he’d been about to make a comment about Fraser, and I could not bear it if I had to pretend that I wasn’t at all affected by his presence.

“Uh, yeah,” Marcus handed me a something that looked like a small artist’s portfolio. It was black with a zipper around the edges. I opened it, and inside were gloves, neutralizing bags, a small collapsible box for more lethal artifacts, and a small black box with USB hook up for my phone.

“This is a standard field agent kit. That box-looking USB adapter is to secure the line to talk to the director, and I assume you know what the rest of it is.”

I nodded.

“She wants you to check in when you arrive in Dublin and then every forty-eight hours after until you find the artifact. Also, if you need back up or run into any problems, she wants you to contact her immediately.”

“Got it.”

“Well, that’s it for us,” Marcus glanced at Fraser, who was still doing god knew what in my kitchen. “Have fun!”

I bit back on a retort and instead, gave him a short nod.

“Good luck,” Sprite said with a subtle wink, wheeling their cases behind them.

In a few minutes, they had both dragged their cases out the door and Fraser and I were once again alone in my apartment. I put the agent kit and gun in my tote, making sure that the gun wouldn’t be jostled and set off accidentally. I triple checked my toiletries, a day’s change of clothes in the tote for emergencies and all my research materials and was tempted to do the same with my suitcase. It was awkward in the extreme to have Fraser puttering in my kitchen, especially considering that we were grinding against each other a mere twelve hours ago.

“Can I talk to ya for a moment?” Fraser asked, finally stepping out of my kitchen.

The thought of talking to him in an empty apartment with all the strange behavior lingering between us made me want to run. But I had to work with this male and if we couldn’t find a way to act a little more naturally around one another fast, there was no way his clan was going to believe that we were mated and this investigation would end before it began. So I reminded myself that this was a professional relationship and nodded.

“Of course,” I said.

He rubbed his hands on his thighs and took a deep breath, blowing it out through his lips. His eyes were flitting around my apartment, and I got the impression that he was trying to look anywhere but at me. Something about that turned my frustration into anger in a split second. What had I done that was so terrible he couldn’t even look at me?

“Fraser,” I said, my voice firm as I were reprimanding him, which in a way, I was about to. “If you want to talk, then do me the courtesy of looking at me when you speak to me, please.”

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