Emerald Eyes (2 page)

Yves Felis blinked up, fastening amazing emerald eyes on him. God, they were deadly up close and personal. So bright, like the emeralds the guy supposedly collected.

“Sure. Have a seat. I’m about to leave. Just stealing bandwidth for a few minutes.”

“No, honey. I want to sit with you.” Reuben laid on the Southern, which no one expected when they looked at him.

Yves blinked, stared at him. “Do I know you?”

Reuben sat and man, it was obvious, when Yves realized he was effectively trapped in the corner. That nose started twitching and Reuben swore he could see the tail lashing.

Such a kitty.

“Nope. I bet you know who sent me, though.”

“Tell him I said no to you, too.” The laptop closed with a snap, and then there was a flurry of activity as the little bag was somehow filled with all the electronics.

“Hey.” He put a hand over Yves’, which stopped every motion dead. “Just sit with me a minute and have a sandwich.”

“A sandwich?” Pure black eyebrows lowered, the expression deliciously confused.

“Mmm. Turkey on ciabatta with cranberry mustard. I got a pastry, too. Lemon pound cake.”

“What for?”

“Lunch.”

“Oh.”

He pulled over the tray with the food. “Turkey and bacon. Yum.”

“I... I’m...”

“What? Not hungry? I can smell you.”

Oh ho! Look at those eyes flash. Green lightning, enough to sear him a little.

“I’m fine.” That nose quivered when Reuben opened the container.

“Uh-huh. Smell you.”

“I bathe.” Oh, so cute, pretending to be something mundane.

“Mmm. I know, but then you get your kitty on. It’s surprisingly sexy.” Reuben nibbled a bite of sandwich.

“What do you want?” Those eyes never left the sandwich.

“I want you to eat,” he said, sliding over one of the packages.

“That’s it? I watched you get it. You didn’t drug it.”

“That’s it. Why would I drug you? I’m just here to tag along. Make sure you stay alive.”

“Of course I’m alive. Luc is a worrywart; he always has been.”

“Yes, well, someone tried to blow him up.”

“That’s a shame.” Mr. Kitty frowned, the expression distant, grumpy. “I should go.”

“Dude, I bought you cake.” What an odd reaction.

“Cake?” One hand crept toward the sandwich. “You’re really supposed to be following me?”

“I am.” He munched some more, his appetite revived by the food.

“Tell them I slipped you a mickey. I’m not interested in being followed.”

“Honey, I’m not here to stop you doing anything. I’m just protection.” From himself as well as outsiders. Jonny said this one had impulse control issues.

“That’s sweet. Weird, but sweet.” The sandwich was taken, devoured in a flash, the man’s eyes so fucking green they hurt.

Reuben handed over half the other sandwich before inhaling the side he’d kept. “Weird for your twin to worry?”

“Yes. He has his own life.”

Cats were so... odd. Wolves, they understood family. Pack. And vamps, well, they just wanted to own everything. He grinned, thinking how imperious his boss could be. “Go and find him and keep his ass alive,” Jonny had said.

Luc had simply sat and stared and cleaned his claws. The message had been clear.

Do your job.

So, here he was. Doing away.

He finished up his sandwich, then eyed the pastry.

“Go for it. You won’t hurt my feelings.”

“I got us each one.” He would eat his now, though, even if Yves saved one. Yum.

Apples were his favorite.

Yves blinked at him, then pushed the other over. “You have it. It’s worth it to watch you eat.”

“Huh?” He glanced down to see that he’d devoured his whole sweet. “It’s damned amazing.”

“I can tell.” The wink he got was... playful, surprisingly charming, and youthful. Practically flirtatious.

His cheeks actually heated, which hadn’t happened in a long time. “Yeah. Uh, eat yours, huh? I can go buy a couple more. No running off.”

“Shh. I swear I won’t pounce your tail, puppy.” Yves patted his hand gently. “You’re safe with me.”

“I don’t do safe.” He winked, turning his hand to catch Yves’, stroking it with his fingers for a moment.

The shot of pure electricity shocked them both, Yves pulling back even as a sharp bark escaped Reuben.

He stared into those green eyes, lost for a long moment. Then Reuben shook it off. “Apples.”

“Apples?” Yves looked confused for a second, and it was adorable, but then the kitty got it.

He cleared his throat. “Be right back.”

Yves nodded, smiled for him, the look more than a little curious.

Curious was something he could use. Seriously, he needed Yves to let him tag along. He wasn’t out to stop the man from doing his thing. Reuben just needed to keep him in one piece.

He had zero intention of landing on the pointy end of Jonny’s fangs. Reuben liked his job too much. He got to use all his wolfy skills and get paid for it. How cool was that?

Reuben kept one eye on Yves, making sure the kitty understood he was watching, paying attention. “Two more apple turnovers, please.”

“You liked them! Fucking A. You good on your coffees?”

“We are, thanks.” Reuben was incredibly grateful for his wolf metabolism.

Kitties were even less omnivorous than his kind. Less fond of sweets, too, apparently. Thankfully, Yves sat right where Reuben left him, watching him carefully. “So, what exactly have they paid you to do?”

“Keep you alive.” He sat with his new prizes. “In one piece, too. Keep someone named Mic Silvia away from you.”

“I don’t know a Silvia.” Yves began to type on his phone, finger flying. Yves was way less of a cat than his twin, that was for sure. More modern. More in touch with the world.

“He’s the one who tried to blow up your brother.”

“Then he should be frightened of me, not hunting me.” The sudden hint of pure, icy steel surprised him, and the hint of danger aroused the fuck out of him.

Reuben sucked his breath in, his apple turnover halfway to his mouth when he paused to stare.

No wonder they sent him to protect this one. Yves was the type to dare the flames to burn him.

Pretty damned hot.

“Well, I’m hoping he does tip his hand, truth be told,” Reuben said. “Eliminate the threat to you and to Jonny and Luc.”

“I haven’t noticed anyone, but then I wasn’t looking for him. I assume he uses others to do his dirty work.”

“He does.” The Silvia guy was a mystery. Good thing Reuben liked to solve those.

“Shame. That leads to collateral damage.” Yves didn’t seem terribly worried.

He had to shake his head and laugh. This primary was turning out to be completely different than he’d expected. Maybe he should pay Yves to guard him.

“Okay, honey. It was nice to meet you. Tell my brother I love him and I’ll find this Silvia fellow and tear his throat out. First, I have a few errands to run. See you!”

He was given a pat to the head and then Yves was moving, bag tucked under his arm, hustling away.

Shit.

He shoved one turnover into his mouth, grabbing the others so he could have them later. He had a job to do.

This was either going to be the best or the worst job ever. He just wasn’t sure which one.

Chapter Two

A bodyguard? Seriously? What nonsense.

As adorable as the goofy pup was, Yves was busy, with things to do, places to go, people to see.

All that.

He had no time to play.

It was a shame, really. Something about the pup called to him, but he didn’t have time for nonsense. So he put his head down and left the coffee shop behind, making his way into the warren of streets and shops.

So, Silvia. Research said he had his fingers in a number of pies, but the most disturbing plum was the line where he collected esoteric gems. That put Yves directly in his line of sight, especially if the man used a seer or some other type of magic locator.

Yves really didn’t need this shit. He had one job to do, and it wasn’t fucking a werewolf or fending off a collector.

Girard had died for him, had made the sacrifice and... His fault. It was all his fault. His head pounded, and nausea rose in his throat. Luc was safe, if possibly not whole. He had to do this for Girard.

It was his fault.

He swallowed back the bile and forced himself to calm his fuzzy ass down. This was no time to ponder losing control of any kind.

He could be a fucking psycho later. After he got all the stones in one place and performed the prescribed ritual. God, that sounded so Monkey’s Paw.

Still. Stones were safe. He had a bead on the right place, and he had half of the ritual transcribed. The language was enough to make a man mad in moments, and a shifter crazy enough in the short-term, so he was having to work it out in bits.

A soft tap on his shoulder made him gasp and spin about. The big pup had managed to sneak up on him.

“You know, I could just come with you. Way easier for us both.” That big smile split the man’s tanned face, that shaggy blond hair and those golden brown eyes so attractive.

“Nope. I have things to do.” Dangerous things. Possibly things that could get him skinned. “No one will blame you for going. I’m slippery.”

“You’ve never met Luc’s vamp. He’s all teeth and blame, buddy.”

“No wonder Luc adores him.” They both liked a little rough play, a hunt. “He’s very in love.”

“Yep.” One big paw settled on the small of Yves’ back. “What do you like?”

“Pardon?” Oh. Oh, that felt good. Scratch. Please. Just a little. Wait, they were in a street.

As if he’d asked aloud, though, the big guy began to scratch lightly. “I mean, are you like your twin, or do you go for girl kitties?”

“Identical twins are over seventy percent likely to share their sibling’s sexual preference.” His eyes crossed. “And you know full well I like cock. You have a nose.”

“A damned good one. Come on, honey. Let’s work together. I’m house trained.”

The words made him chuckle, shake his head. “Come on. I’ll ditch you later. I’ve got research to do.”

“Good deal. I’m exceptional at that, too.” They walked a few moments before the big wolf added, “I’m Reuben.”

“Yves. But you knew that. Nice to meet you.”

“Ditto.”

To his credit, Reuben fell silent after that, following him to the tiny room he’d rented. It had the marked benefit of amazing Wi-Fi.

“There’s no real kitchen, but the shower works, and there’s milk and beer in the fridge.” He headed to sit at the table and started hunting. Someone had the final pieces of the spell and that someone was local. He’d found the first bits in Tibet, and then he ended up in Pakistan before he’d been led to Columbia.

Now he was in the States, and he knew he was close. So close.

“Milk is good.” Reuben wandered to the kitchen, stretching tall in the doorway, joints popping.

His whiskers twitched. Stop it. Working. He was busy. There was no time for that amazing body, which he hadn’t taken time to admire before now.

Still, Reuben was stacked to the ceiling, broad and wide and shaggy, pretty much definitely lickable. He smelled good, too, which simply wasn’t fair. Wolves should repel him.

Cats. Dogs. Dogs. Cats. Oil. Water. Matches. Gasol...

“Do you smell gas, man?” He began to gather his things, closing his laptop and slipping it into his bag.

Reuben sniffed the air, then began to frown. “I do. The main window.”

“That’s bad.” Laptop, ditty bag, duffel, phone charger. He was all about traveling light. “Wanna hasta before the boom and burning and shit starts?”

“I do. Let me check the stairs first, okay?” All of a sudden he could see why this huge pup was good at his job. Reuben went stealth, his feet making no sound on the creaky wood floor.

He went for speed over silence, making sure nothing important was left behind.

Reuben opened the door, weapon in hand. Yves hadn’t even seen the big pistol appear.

Okay, that was hot. What? He was shallow. No one would be surprised. Least of all his brothers. Brother. Luc. The thought of Girard made him touch the secret pocket sewn into his jacket.

“Let’s move,” Reuben said, waving him over.

“Coming.” He headed across the floor, hitting the doorway as the front windows blew in, glass flying everywhere. Goodie.

Thank the gods he wasn’t sitting at the table anymore. That was a damned small room.

Reuben cursed and tugged him down into the foyer, then pushed him toward the back of the building instead.

“Where are we going, man?” he hissed.

“There has to be a back door. Gas smell is out front, so I’d rather not go that way.”