For Your Paws Only (Supernatural Enforcers Agency #2) (10 page)

“And me,” piped up Jessie, “he wanted me to go the aquarium with him. Which I guess was kind of normal in comparison.”

Lucie frowned. “He never asked me out; he looked down on me because I was a nurse – he thought he could do better than me.”

“Ridiculous,” soothed Rick. “Lots of doctors marry their nurses.”

He gave a pointed look at Cutter, whose eyes bulged worryingly, and Lucie just wished the damn ground would swallow her up. It was going to be a
long
night.

*

Cutter watched as Lucie left the bar, thankfully, with Jessie and not the jumped-up, arrogant, asshole, lion shifter doctor. Not that he had a problem with the lion shifter or anything. Nope, he was totally indifferent to the fucker.

Jessie’s admirer, the turtle shifter, soon left, deflated, given that the object of his affections had completely ignored him all night and left with another woman. Isis and Avery soon drifted away, leaving Cutter and Rick.

Cutter downed his beer as quickly as possible. He was desperate to get away, but he wasn’t about to waste beer.

Rick sipped his whiskey, watching Cutter through narrowed eyes. “Do you really think it’s fair letting Lucie hang around you when you’re not interested in her?”

He almost choked on his beer as his indignant wolf snarled. “What?” he spluttered.

The lion shifter let out a derisive humph. “I see the way she looks at you; it’s not a secret that she has feelings for you or that you don’t reciprocate them. The SEA is ripe with gossip; I know she has been chasing after you for a year. It’s just seems strange that all of a sudden you’re hanging around her like a bad smell. I wonder if it’s because of me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” growled Cutter.

Who the fuck did this lion think he was? He wasn’t acting any different to Lucie than he ever had. Just because this sleazebag had designs on her, it hadn’t changed a fucking thing. Maybe he had warned Lucie away from him, but that was only because he knew the way lions operated. Male lions were big on having harems of wives, and if Lucie –
sweet, innocent, naïve Lucie
– weren't careful, she could end up sharing the man with six other women and given the nickname ‘Saturday.’

The lion shifter gave him a patient, almost pitying look. “Don’t you think you should leave her alone? Other people might have an interest in her.”

His wolf was trying to push out and take a bite out of this asshole; the damn beast was virtually salivating at the thought. “Other people like you?”

Rick jutted his chin out and pushed his shoulders back, raising himself to his six-foot-four height. Yeah, he might have been a little taller and even a little broader than Cutter, but the wolf was confident he could take him in a fight. Ha, confidence nothing, he was already planning a victory dance in his head. Sadly, it probably wouldn’t come to a fight.

“Yes, like me,” replied the lion shifter simply. “I just worry that Lucie won’t commit while you’re still clinging to her. It seems to me that you’ve had more than enough chances to be with her, and now that she has a chance to be happy with someone else…”

Cutter slammed his bottle of beer down on the table, smashing it instantly. It made a few other patrons jump and incited some sarcastic clapping from more than one of his fellow SEA agents.

He ignored the wails of his animal and told the other male, “Lucie’s a grown woman; if she wants to be with you, that’s up to her.”

Rick was actually a little taken back by his response. “So you’ll back off?”

Cutter bared his fangs and a rumbling chuckle trickled out of his mouth. “You need me to?” he taunted.

“For her sake, yes. For mine, no,” he said condescendingly, as he looked Cutter up and down. “It makes no odds to me whether a mangy mutt is hanging around, I’ll still be the one she goes home with, but I just didn’t think there was any reason for her to get hurt unnecessarily. Still, what will be will be. Take care, Cutter.”

The lion shifter started whistling –
yes, he was actually whistling a jaunty tune
– as he strode out of the bar. Cutter ignored every instinct in his body to chase after the feline and rip him to shreds.

He couldn’t do that; he couldn’t give in to those instincts. Not because he would feel any kind of remorse about it, but because of the reaction it would elicit from Lucie. Would she be angry with him? Or worse, disappointed? Would that look of sweet longing she always threw in his direction disappear? It pained him to admit it, but he didn’t want that.

But that still didn’t lessen his fury. It had been too long since he had shifted. He could feel the fur pushing through his skin; his bones started cracking as the change came upon him.

Abruptly, he tore out of the bar, only just making it to the alley before his clothes ripped apart and he fell to the ground on all fours. He howled into the sky as his honed senses took in all the sights, sounds and smells of the busy city. He caught the scent of a wild fox and took off after the beast. Yes, a little hunting was just what he needed.

Chapter Ten

Thursday

Cutter glared at the agents sat in front of him. Diaz had the grace to look a little sheepish, but Primrose was remorselessly cold and dispassionate. Not that he expected anything less from her. Ice sculptures gave more away than her.

The two of them were asking him further questions about Clayton and Sadie Beauchamp. Apparently, they hadn’t been able to locate Sadie; she wasn’t on vacation – she had simply disappeared.

Her sister, Marie, had been murdered in Sadie’s home. Sadie had moved to Los Lobos a couple of weeks ago; she was renting a house and working at a club as a waitress. Marie had come into town a few days ago. The two women were both bobcat shifters. While Sadie seemed to lead a normal life, apart from having previously worked at a mob-owned club back in Ursa, Marie had numerous drug related charges to her name and was apparently a heavy user as well as an alleged dealer. She and her long-term loser boyfriend had been in numerous scrapes over the years. If it weren’t for the fact that ballistics proved that the same gun killed both Marie and Clayton, they might have suspected Marie was actually the target. But, as it was, they suspected that both Sadie and Clayton knew something about the Maroni case, and someone had tried to shut them up. Drops of Sadie’s blood were discovered at the crime scene, so it looked like she had been at least injured. Cutter guessed that they were checking all hospitals for her.

All of this just resulted in Cutter being asked the same questions over and over. He actually learned more about Sadie Beauchamp than he ever knew before that day. She worked at one of Maroni’s BDSM clubs. He remembered interviewing her. She was a pretty woman, a little skittish, but she seemed too scared to lie to them. Clayton had pushed her hard, but she had remained adamant that she knew nothing of the inner workings of Maroni’s mob, and they believed her. She knew Maroni –
somewhat intimately
– but she didn’t know anything about his business.

At the time, Cutter hadn’t known anything about Sadie’s sister or that she dealt drugs. He couldn’t fathom why Clayton would come all the way out to Los Lobos to see her, though. Cutter had managed to corner Jessie before his interview with Diaz the dummy and the ice bitch. The squirrel shifter had been a little reticent at first, but he soon needled her into giving him some details. Diaz and his team interviewed some of the people Sadie worked with, and a number reported seeing Clayton on several nights trying to talk to Sadie, and the last night he was there they got into a huge fight and Clayton had to be ejected by the bouncers. Sadly, no one could hear what the fight was about.

Although Diaz didn’t want to ask the questions over and over, he still did. Cutter’s paper-thin patience was wearing very thin. If it weren’t for a very satisfying night of chasing various wildlife throughout the city and then a couple of hours spent guarding Lucie’s house –
just to make sure no errant lions turned up
– his wolf would have been going nuts at that moment. As it was, the beast was kind of mellow at that moment, and Cutter wanted him to stay that way.

Primrose clucked her tongue. “Based on the Maroni case, do you think we’ll have another victim?”

“Unless you two get off your butts and find Sadie, I predict she’ll be killed next.”

Diaz looked a little affronted, but Primrose wasn’t moved.

“What? Not good enough for you?” sneered Cutter. “You want me to look in my fucking crystal ball again for you? How about you get out there and investigate instead of wasting my time asking me the same fucking stupid questions over and over again?”

He tipped his chair back and stared at the wall, growling lowly and incessantly. Okay, calling himself mellow may have been a
slight
exaggeration.

“You know, if you just give us something to work with…” started Diaz before trailing off as steam almost shot out of Cutter’s ears.

His wolf was starting to stir, no longer satiated by the relaxation of hunting and ensuring that Lucie remained untouched. “I don’t know how many fucking times I can tell you this. I don’t fucking well know why Clayton was in town. I don’t know why the fuck Clayton wanted to talk to Sadie, and I sure as don’t fucking know why someone would want to fucking kill her. All I fucking know is that you are wasting my fucking time!”

By this point Cutter had unknowingly stood up and was leaning over the table, amber eyes flashing at the agents in front of him. Primrose arched a perfect eyebrow, completely unimpressed by his behavior. “Seven fucks in one outburst, is that a personal best?”

“Nah, his best so far is eighteen,” chimed in Diaz, “and it was a lot shorter than that.”

“Sit down, Cutter, we’re not even remotely done here,” ordered Primrose, imperiously.

“You may not be, but I am,” he growled as he stomped to the exit.

Diaz sucked in a breath and stood up. “Cutter, you can’t leave yet.”

“Watch me,” he muttered as his hand reached for the door handle. He was done answering inane questions. Anymore and he might just let his wolf out –
then they’d be sorry
.

“Not before you explain why two hundred thousand dollars was recently wired into your account,” called Primrose.

Confusion stopped him cold; his hand hovered over the handle and even his beast stopped yowling long enough for Cutter to process what the hyena shifter had just told him. Slowly, he turned back to the two agents and regarded them warily. Primrose hadn’t moved an inch and looked just as detached as ever, but the strain on Diaz’s face was evident.

“Is that a joke?” asked Cutter, slowly. Were they actually playing some kind of dumb trick on him to get his attention?

Primrose pulled some papers out of her file and spread them over the table. She waved a hand over them. “See for yourself.”

Cutter edged his way back into the room, almost expecting one of them to leap out of him and shout boo at any moment.
That’s how ridiculous it was
.

He scanned the pieces of paper laid out in front of him. “This is a mistake,” he said definitely. He didn’t have that kind of money, and he didn’t know anyone who did. It must have been sent to his account by accident; surely, it was meant for someone else.

Diaz relaxed a little on seeing that Cutter wasn’t about to leave and sank back into his seat. “One hundred grand was put in your account the night before Clayton died and another hundred the night before Sadie, ah, disappeared.”

Cutter snapped his head up to look at the jaguar shifter, who had the decency to squirm in his seat. “You better not be suggesting what I think you are.”

Primrose gave him a hard look. “We’re merely stating facts. What do you think we’re suggesting?”

They might not want to admit it, but in their
oh-so-subtle
way, they were hinting that he had been paid off for murdering Clayton and Sadie. Or at least, attempting to murder Sadie.

Cutter stood up straight and rolled his shoulders. He affected an unconcerned and unflappable demeanor completely at odds with his fiery, grouchy nature. Damn, he was a good actor.

“Clearly, it’s just a banking error. I’ll call my bank today and get it straightened out. Thank you for pointing it out. Gee, aren’t I lucky that you just happened to come across this.”

Yes, why exactly had they been pawing their way through his personal life? He didn’t like that one bit. Not that he had anything to hide – his personal life was pretty mundane. Other than child support, all he did was pay his rent, bills, gym membership and his tab at the bar. Maybe the gym membership seemed a little decadent, given that the SEA offices had its own gym, but sometimes he just liked to get away from his work mates. Plus going to two gyms afforded a wider range of shifters with which to spar with,
and therefore beat the hell out of
.

Diaz and Primrose gave each other matching, inscrutable looks. Diaz caved first. “The timing of it seems very… ah…”

Cutter gave him a hard stare. “I don’t know why the bank made this mistake when they did. Fucking morons. How dare they give me money I don’t want?”

“This isn’t a laughing matter,” said Primrose snippily. “I heard the rumors about you back in Ursa. A lot of people said you were in Nicolas Maroni’s back pocket.”

He felt his muscles twitch and his body heat. His wolf wanted out and in about fifty seconds, if he didn’t calm down, there would be nothing he could do to stop him. The wolf wanted out, and heaven help anyone who was in his way.

“They were just rumors. I never did anything wrong. A lot of people suffered because of that man – me included. We’re done here.”

He strode to the exit, willing his body to stay in his skin form until he could at least get out of there. His wolf was done listening to those people. They were accusing him of being a liar, of taking money from the man who tried to kill him. His wolf couldn’t stand it anymore. If Cutter didn’t get out of there, his wolf would get free, and he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hurt them, or that he wouldn't enjoy doing it.

He rushed out of the room; his body throbbed from the imminent change and his mind was torn between his two forms. He staggered into a soft, luscious, delicious smelling body. A small squeak sounded, and automatically his hands reached out to steady her.

Lucie’s big blue eyes blinked up at him, and she gasped as his body trembled, and he growled. They heard voices coming their way, and he allowed himself to be dragged into the janitor’s closet. She shut the door firmly behind them and ran her hands up and down his chest as she made soothing noises.

“It’s okay, we’re okay,” she murmured.

Her touch seared its way into his very soul. The urgent need to shift halted. Eventually, he calmed and under her ministrations his violent beast retreated, allowing Cutter to take back control. As his claws receded, unable to stop the natural urge, his arms slipped around Lucie and he drew her into a hug, partly for his own comfort and partly, so he didn’t have to look at her worried countenance. She moaned against his chest, and he buried his head in her hair inhaling deeply. Her curvy body fit so snugly against his; he pressed against her even harder, cursing himself for his weakness but reveling in the warmth and pleasure she brought him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into her hair.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his chest.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he choked out, fighting his instincts and his horny wolf.

“The janitor won’t be back for hours.”

“No, I mean we shouldn’t be together like this.”

Her shoulders hunched in a shrug. “We’re not doing anything wrong. People hug all the time. It’s a free country. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll go around hugging everyone I meet today, just to show you how normal it is.”

His arms tightened around her as his wolf snarled at the thought. “Don’t you dare,” he warned her and was surprised when he heard a small giggle escape her.

“For a second there, I thought your wolf was going to get out and go on a rampage.”

“He was,” he said tightly.

“Maybe I should have been running in the opposite direction instead of pulling you into a small closet,” she joked half-heartedly.

Cutter pulled his head back and cupped hers, directing her gaze to his. “Not you, Lucie. You never have to run from me.”

Lucie smiled a little sadly before shaking her head. “And I swear, if my hedgehog ever goes on the rampage, I will never hurt you either.”

He pressed his lips together to stop himself from chortling. “I’m glad to hear it, I heard that being pricked by a hedgehog will leave you in some discomfort for at least, oh, a couple of hours.”

“More like three,” she told him solemnly before grinning.

He had an unaccountable urge to kiss her twitchy little nose, but he fought it. Well, actually he had a strong urge to pull her pants down and drive his rock hard manhood into her wet heat, but that was a familiar urge that he was used to handling. This new one, the desire to do something sweet and intimate, that was something new and frightening. Having sex was one thing. That satisfied an itch that all shifters had. But wanting to do something cute? Wanting to snuggle after sex? That was alien territory for him. He hadn’t even wanted to behave that way with his wife, not that it would have been overly welcome.

To her disappointment, he pulled away from her and stepped backward, hitting his head on a metal shelving unit. She winced as he rubbed his head, but at least the head pain distracted him from the pain in his pants.
Different kind of pain, but the pants one was definitely worse
.

Lucie folded her arms over her impressive chest, and he almost purposefully banged his head again.

“So what happened?” she asked gently.

“They think I had something to do with Clayton’s and that woman’s deaths,” he blurted, happy to be able to talk to someone.

Lucie’s mouth fell open in shock. “Mother of pearl! That’s insane!”

“I know.”

“You would never do that.”

“I know.”

“Those people are idiots.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughed, “I know.” Damn it felt good to have someone on his side.