Bite Me (London Undead) (8 page)

Well, he’d wondered what reason he’d have to visit Maisie at the clinic.

* * *

“There now, settle down, won’t you?” Maisie gave the Yorkshire terrier a final scratch behind the ear before closing the door to its kennel. Sweet boy needed a nap after running about so much earlier. “You’ve had a long walk and hours of play time with the others. Don’t you think it’s past time to rest and let me have a cup of tea?”

The Yorkie had been about to take her advice too, then suddenly he was up on his hind legs lunging at the door to his kennel, barking for all he was worth. The others erupted in a chorus of growls and yaps until the entire room was in chaos.

“If I get you that cup of tea, do you have a few minutes to spare?” Seth’s voice sent a shiver down Maisie’s spine.

She took a deep breath before she turned to face him, and hoped her cheeks weren’t too flushed. “Well, see what you’ve done now.”

He dropped his chin a bit, mouth twisted in what he must’ve thought was an expression of contrition but really, anyone could tell he was grinning. There was a distinct lack of a verbal apology. Really, the man was incorrigible.

And incredibly sexy.

“Enough.” She’d had to raise her voice to be heard, but the barking and growling decreased immediately. A few brave ones gave a final bark or snarl before she pinned each of them with a glare.

“You seem to have quite a lot of business.” He didn’t move and his voice remained low, deliciously dark. A few warning growls, but the peanut gallery remained relatively quiet.

“People’ve always liked to travel with their pets when they could.” She checked the doors to all of their kennels, pausing to give each of them a reassuring skritch to the nose as she passed. “Customs doesn’t seem to be holding most of the supposed zombie hunters to the normal quarantine times. Gives them the ability to bring in their hunting dogs, I suppose. But really, we get a decent number of these pets to board while their owners see their fill of zombie-infested London.”

She eyed Seth. She’d seen him in action. Energy fairly vibrated in the air around him, and yet he’d somehow managed to tuck it all away as he stood there, perfectly still. She wondered if it only lasted while he remained standing there. And why did he have his hand clutched to his shoulder like that?

“What happened? Have you gotten yourself hurt again, then?”

He lifted an eyebrow.

“Well, has someone shot you besides me in the last twenty-four hours?”

He flashed teeth in a real smile. “I might have had a run-in with a stray zombie.”

“What zombie isn’t a stray, shambling about aimlessly until it stumbles across live meat?” She wanted to spit the bitter taste from her mouth, but it’d set a bad example for the boys and next she knew, they’d be drooling everywhere.

“I’ve been wondering that myself.” Could the man be more cryptic?

Seth turned and lowered his hand to the small utility table in the center of the room at the same time. She had to step around him to see.

There stood the tiniest orange tabby kitten, standing on wide braced paws and looking very annoyed.

“He fits in your hand!” She hushed herself and leaned in for a closer look.

The kitten immediately puffed into an orange ball of temper.

“There now, easy. We’re only trying to help.” She cooed and made soft nonsense sounds, let him see she meant him no harm. As his fur settled, she extended a single finger.

It took another long minute before the lad met her halfway to sniff her finger tip.

“All right then, now we’re friends, let me look you over in the other room.” Before the boys set to barking their furry heads off again and scared the bejeebers out of the kitten.

She gathered him to her chest and tried not to wince when needle-sharp claws immediately anchored into the front of her shirt. Poor thing didn’t trust her not to drop him.

Couldn’t blame him. Easier to survive in this world relying on no one.

Seth followed her into the examination room. “Found him in an alley, fighting a zombie.”

“You must be joking.”

“He reminded me of someone, so I brought him here.”

Oh, wasn’t that charming. She gave the werewolf a scowl for his trouble.

“He can’t be more than a few weeks old.” It took a bit of wriggling to detach him from her shirt. He’d better not rip it—she only had a few good enough to wear down to the clinic. “He’s in good shape, though, if he’s got this much fight to him.”

She set him down on the table and checked him over with gentle hands.

“Cats’ve been doing well in the city this past year, better than dogs.”

“You think so?” She’d not seen many dogs at all. “I thought most of the dogs might have run off.”

Seth shook his head. “Most people keep their dogs in their houses with them or tied up to a kennel. Usually dogs can’t run away from a zombie if one of the blighters gets into a home or yard.”

Her breath caught. Poor things. She focused on breathing away the pang of sadness and she spent an extra moment caressing the soft fur around the tabby’s face.

“Some of the dogs probably did run off,” Seth added. His voice had taken on an odd sound. Trying to ease the harsh reality a bit for her?

No need.

She straightened and reached for the thermometer and a few swabs. “I’ll take a few readings, then some samples to test him for worms and mites. Then, he’s in desperate need of a thorough bath. We’ve got shampoo for kittens and a powder to dust him for fleas.”

Seth’s face twisted in a funny expression. A giggle tickled her belly as she wondered if a werewolf ever had to be dipped for fleas.

“Don’t enjoy baths?” She tried for innocent. She sounded more like she was choking on something.

“I like baths.” His gaze pinned her, sent shivers across her skin. “When there’s someone to wash my back.”

“You do have a broad back.” Suddenly words were tripping over her tongue. “Could see how you’d need a bit of help reaching a few places.”

Silence fell across the room, wrapped her in an odd tension. She bustled the kitten through his tests and much needed bath despite yowls and squirming on his part. Seth even lent a hand to keep the orange spitfire in the sink.

Every time their shoulders brushed or their sides bumped, excitement tingled across Maisie’s skin. She remembered the touch of his hands... Wanted more.

And oddly, seeing how gentle he was with the kitten caused a twinge in her heart. She’d seen him crush zombie skulls, rip body parts off the monsters. And here he was, helping care for a stray kitten. So much control over all that strength.

Finally, the kitten was bathed, dusted and settled into a kennel in the room they kept for cats. When she placed a dish of wet food in front of him, he dove face first into it, smooshing the food with his paws as he greedily sucked up the much needed sustenance.

Seth chuckled.

“He’s a bit young to be neat about it.” Maisie felt a need to defend their little charge.

Seth raised his hands in acquiescence. “I can leave him with you, then?”

Of course.

Then Brian’s latest lecture whispered at the back of her mind and she grimaced.

“A problem?”

“It’s just that all of our business is boarding the pets of the tourists lately. It’s enough to keep us afloat, but not by much. We don’t have the means to care for strays really, and there are a lot of them out there.” She shook her head. “I’ll find a way around it.”

“Put his care on a tab and I’ll take care of it.”

She blinked. “We’re not a pub.”

“And I don’t plan to eat him.” Seth reached across the space between them and tapped her nose with his fingertip. “But I did make sure he didn’t become a zombie snack, so I figure I ought to see to his care until he can look after himself.”

“And what use do you have for a cat?”

“No idea.” Seth grinned. “We’ve got a few rats plaguing the cellar and I hear cats are good for those.”

“So are Yorkies, and they’d seem a better choice for a werewolf.”

“Tch. You saw how those little...things reacted to me when I first got here.”

And he obviously equated
Yorkie
with a four-letter word, one not meant for polite company.

“This kitten is the first I’ve encountered willing to make friends with a werewolf. Least I can do is see if he wants a home with one once he’s big enough I won’t be stepping on him.”

She’d no idea what to say to that. Warmth spread through her chest all the same. The kitten would have a home after all.

Before she realized what she’d done, she was in his arms and kissing him.

“Maisie?” A voice came from the hallway. “Maisie, luv, are you back here? Brian said to come on back.”

Oh for heaven’s... No time to gather her wits. They were scattered all over the room.

She stepped away from Seth and cleared her throat. “Here, Mrs. Wells.”

Seth kept a hand on the small of her back as the older woman entered the room. When Mrs. Wells caught sight of Seth, the woman dropped her gaze to the ground almost immediately.

Did she know what Seth was? Or did she just do it without thinking?

“You’ve been such a help, these past few weeks, dear. I wanted to bring you something but it’s been so late when you’ve been coming back, I didn’t want to wake the children to give these to you.”

Maisie glanced past Mrs. Wells to the corridor, hoping Brian wasn’t within earshot.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have, really.”

Mrs. Wells pressed something soft into her hands. Knitted...gloves? Maybe leg warmers, for very thin legs.

“They’re arm warmers, dear. You can slide them on, all the way up to your shoulder, or leave them slouched around your forearms and wrists. I left them with just the thumb hole to keep them in place so your fingers would be free to do your work around the clinic.”

Handy, and good to keep her fingers clear to squeeze a trigger. Cozy too.

“Found a few balls of yarn while the weather was warmer,” Mrs. Wells continued. “Enough to make scarves for the children and something to keep you warm as well. You do such a good job of watching over us.”

Well, Mrs. Wells had her hands full with the children.

“Mr. Wells still out?”

“He should be home soon.” The strain in Mrs. Wells’s voice prevented Maisie from asking further.

Mr. Wells had been gone two days. With the hard cold leaving frost on the pavement, it wasn’t likely Mr. Wells had been spending the nights away from shelter. Still, he’d been going out every day looking for work. Maisie didn’t want to believe he’d abandoned his small family...

Maisie did a mental count. She might be able to “accidentally” purchase enough supper for all of them tomorrow. Besides, she could go light for a few days after the solid meal Seth had bought her.

As if he’d sensed her thoughts had turned to him, the lanky werewolf stirred at her side.

“I’m sorry, my mind is wandering. Mrs. Wells, this is Seth.”

“How do you do?” Mrs. Wells gave Seth a glassy-eyed glance, more polite than truly seeing him.

Maisie guessed Mrs. Wells didn’t even notice the way her gaze slid over and away from the big werewolf.

“Nice to meet you,” Seth answered, playing nice.

Maisie got the impression from his awkward tone that he didn’t do it often.

“Didn’t you see Maisie home last night?” Mrs. Wells apparently missed very little, even if she wouldn’t look Seth in the eye.

Shite.

Mrs. Wells gave Maisie an apologetic smile but directed her words to Seth. “Hard not to hear the fuss when you were stomping about checking the boards to the windows and going on about entry points.”

“It’s a good thing to sleep where a person can see all the entrances to a room.” Seth didn’t seem unsettled by the commentary.

“It’s a good thing to see someone taking care of Maisie for once.” Mrs. Wells clucked and reached out to brush a loose hair away from Maisie’s face. It took effort not to fidget.

“No need.” Maisie had worked hard to make sure no one would need to look after her again. No one should put themselves before her, or die for her.

“Now, Maisie.” Mrs. Wells shook a finger under Maisie’s nose. “You’re far too young to be going on through life alone, no matter how you think you can take care of yourself.”

“I’m more concerned about getting through the next month, let alone life beyond that.” A change of subject was becoming an imperative. “The landlord stopped by today. That’s why Brian is up at the front desk shuffling through papers. The bastard says he has to raise the rent again and wants to send in his bullies to clear out any squatters in the building so he can renovate and sell the flats to trophy hunters. Otherwise, it’s back to the collecting on insurance threat.”

Mrs. Wells’s hands flew to her mouth and her eyes widened in alarm.

Maisie reached out to her immediately, took the older woman’s chill hands into her own. “Brian stood up to him. Showed the bastard the lease to the clinic. We’ve got at least two more years before the landlord can raise the rent.”

Brian had pointed out that as a resident in good standing, he had every right to deny those bullies access to the premises. Maisie wasn’t certain how true it was, but the landlord had backed down.

She glanced over at Seth, then took a good look at him. “Now you go on upstairs, Mrs. Wells. No need to worry. Brian has things well in hand.” She needed to get Mrs. Wells out of the room. “Thank you for the arm warmers.”

A moment after Mrs. Wells left for the stairs leading to the flats, Maisie cautiously turned to Seth.

Every muscle tensed, his hands clenched into fists, Seth seemed even taller. He filled the room with his anger, his eyes gone from blue to golden.

“Brian has things well in hand.” Maisie kept her voice calm and soothing.

Seth studied her, his gaze so intense she could hardly breathe. After a long moment, he spoke in a deep voice gone wolf. “You have my mobile. You’ll call if that man comes back.”

He’d not made a request.

She nodded anyway because she had a feeling he’d lose whatever hold he had on his temper if she didn’t.

Another moment, this one almost awkward again. “Dinner...might not be as good an idea tonight.”