Human Interaction (18 page)

"Oh, hell." Ducky's words sent my eyes flying open.

* * * *

Sure enough, we no longer ambled down the street. Instead, we stood in a tile-encased room. The flushing of the toilet clued me in. A tiny old woman with a walker emerged from the stall, shakily pushing the walker, complete with tennis balls for feet, across the floor.

She looked up at Ducian and a wicked smile crossed her face. "Boy, howdy. I haven't seen such a stud muffin like you in a long time. Where have you been hiding, honey?" She teetered a bit closer. "Come see your sexy grandma now."

Ducian scowled, taking a step back. "Holy crap." He glanced down at me, before fixing his eyes forward once more. "This image won't ever go away, no matter how much therapy I get. Damn."

The woman paused a few feet away. I closed my mouth and focused on trying not to laugh, especially when the woman started tugging her robe open.

The zipper flew down, leaving nothing to the imagination. Gravity hadn't been kind to this old lady and those certainly were her own breasts. No mistaking the lack of perkiness. Skin hung all over and wrinkles existed in-between.

Ducian covered his eyes. "Just stake me now."

A series of small
'put
put'
noises escaped from the woman as she edged closer. "Come on, honey. I'll even take my teeth out for ya." She spit her dentures out into her hand and grinned, making smacking sounds with her mouth.

The scene edged toward creepy, which potentially meant more therapy time for me. I grabbed Ducian's hand just as the woman reached for his crotch.

Opening my eyes once more, I found we stood in one dark corner hallway of the strip club.

"Thank goodness." Ducian sighed in relief. Shaking his head, he untangled my hand from his. "I think I would have rather stayed and faced whatever being was about to eat us."

I gave a small smile. "Hey! Now you know where you have a willing woman, all set to jump your bones." He snorted. "And all because of me."

"Yeah. I'll have nightmares about her for the next century as it is. Thanks a lot." He shot me a look. "I thought you had a monk fetish. Right now, I'm willing to bet it's more along the lines of ancient perverts in bathrooms fetish."

My mouth fell open. "I don't…"

His aggressive stance softened as did his face. "Good thing I don't age."

Perplexed at the sudden change of subject, I tilted my head. "Why do you say that?"

He cracked a smile. "'Cause I will always have the young women with perky breasts. None of those saggy skin ones for me." His eyes flashed. "Too bad you're human. Not too much longer and your boobs will be headed for your knees." The jerk tossed his head back and laughed.

My face flamed as I crossed my arms over my chest. "Not funny."

He obviously didn't hear as he continued. "Saggy Shy." That sent him on further gales.

I tapped my toes in impatience. "Dick of a Duck."

"What have I missed?" The deep voice, achingly familiar, sounded behind me.

Uh-oh.

I turned to find Meat standing behind me. Black shiny leather pants left little to the imagination. The matching leather jacket hung open, revealing a broad, muscle-packed chest. Those abs rippled with each movement. Shiny silver snaps reflected the dim club lights, but drew attention to certain male parts.

Oh, my. Dare I drool?

Ducian leaned down, brushing a kiss to my temple. "Hang onto your tomcat," he whispered into my ear.

My eyebrows furrowed at him. He flashed his fangs in my direction and mouthed, "Now."

Meat watched the interlude with interest, tilting his head at Ducian. "Care to fill me in?" His words held a hint of menace combined with confusion.

"Ummm. Ducky decided I have saggy boobs," I managed to sputter.

Oh, great
. That didn't come out right at all. Open mouth insert both feet in this case.

Both men's eyes landed directly on the spot, obviously to test out the hypothesis. My face burned all the hotter. Their smiles slowly blossomed while their gazes remained locked on my modest cleavage.

Meat broke the silence. "His sight must be going in his old age. Look as perky as ever to me. Although…" He paused, tapping his chin. "I might need a hands-on check just to be sure." He extended his arms toward me.

I jumped back, out of range. The hyenas just stood there and guffawed.
Men. Tell me again why I even need one of them.

My cell rang, interrupting the moment. Grabbing it, I checked the number before opening the phone.

CHAPTER 16

"Hey, Cannibal."

He spouted out orders, which included picking him up at the airport and checking on the new weapons he'd ordered to make sure they were ready and waiting. Enforcers can be so dictatorial. At least this one.

Cannibal wasn't his real name and no one knew his true name except maybe the administrative brass of the Peace Protection Division. Certainly, none of the lower echelon heard a peep of what to call the man besides the nickname. Rumors abounded as to where he originated, why they called him Cannibal, and if he really consumed human parts in his split pea soup. Bets lay on the table as to his DNA, human or other, and how many bad guys he'd wiped out thus far.

All I knew for certain was this—his normal leaned heavily toward pissy, he didn't play well with others, he ate food so probably landed in some other category besides vampire, and someone disliked me enough to stick me with him as his personal caretaker.
Yay for me.
Actually, I understood Cannibal himself had demanded the assignment after our first meeting. While not the worst assignment of my life, it still ranked below winning the lottery and spending a day at the circus. A person simply needed to realize what made him click and how to use that information to maintain a steady keel in order to protect their sanity.

We'd bonded on one crazy night of mass chaos spent together. I had refused to cower, he'd decided I had earned his respect. Since then, I'm the only gopher he deals with and even shows a few manners when in public. You could sum up Cannibal in a few words—think tall, dark, and handsome meets speak softly and carry a big stick. Who needed to yell when he could just beat the crap out of someone instead?

I broke in on the middle of his list of demands. "Have you eaten?"

He growled something vaguely sounding like a negative. "I'll pick up some food on the way." He started in again, but I just talked over him. "I'll do it anyway. Yeah, well. It's never a good idea to ride with a hungry Cannibal. You never know when he might have a snack attack and slice off a pinky toe to gnaw on."

I held the phone off my ear as his voice rose. "You and I both know there isn't a place that makes human fingers and rice. You're just being deliberately difficult," I countered in my best 'Mommy isn't happy' voice.

He continued to grumble on the other end. "Fine. I'll swing by for a bucket of mountain oysters on the way. You like extra crispy or original?"

I started to pull the phone from my ear before hearing his voice soften and calm. "Uh huh. Thought you might change your mind. KFC it is."

I hung up, shut the phone, and slid it back into my purse.

Meat, obviously eavesdropping, asked, "You're going to meet a cannibal?" His eyes widened at my nod.

"Yep."

Both Meat and Ducian stared at me with a look of incredibility.

"I'm going with you," they replied in unison.

I blinked. "Umm. Thanks for the offer, but you can't." I shifted weight from one foot to another. Any other time, they would wave me off, wishing me a happy castle-storming with Cannibal. But not tonight. Tonight, their hackles stood straight up and protective mode took priority.

"Why not?" Ducian demanded.

"Well, for one, Ducky, you're on his bad list as he frowns on vampys who dress to the nines. And Meat…" What excuse could work for him?
Think, think. I can hear the
Jeopardy
theme ticking in my head.
"He doesn't… play well with others."
Yeah, that sounds impressive. Not.

Meat simply glared. The excuse probably fell short of the mark with the shifter. Maybe Meat didn't play well with others too? That wasn't quite right; he seemed to play really well with Misha.

I slammed the door on that memory. Past history now. I needed to move forward.

"No worries. Last time I was with him I had my face in his crotch, my panties were wet, and he had a blowout." I flashed an impish smile.

Both their mouths fell wide open. I focused on biting my tongue to refrain from laughing. A small pinky wave and I stepped to the side. Meat grabbed me by the arm. "Wait."

"Gotta get to work," I said, feeling a tiny quiver where his hand rested on my elbow.

He pulled me against his body, rubbing his chin over my head and neck, making a chuffing sound in the process. At first I thought the gesture resembled a hug and I squeezed him in return, but he kept brushing his face over me.

I pushed at his chest, finally gaining freedom. "What in the world are you doing?"

A small, sheepish grin covered his face. His eyes glanced up at Ducian, then back down to meet mine. "Scent marking you."

"Huh?"

A kiss to the forehead followed. "Just a message to this Cannibal guy, reminding him to watch his manners with you."

I blinked up at him. He grinned wickedly back. "Go out with me."

"I…" I bit my lip.

The announcer's voice introducing Meat rocketed through the room.

He placed a quick kiss to the tip of my nose then stepped back. "I'll call you tomorrow. We'll go somewhere nice this time." With the promise he strode toward the stage, long steps eating up the distance.

I glanced up to see Ducian grinning like a court jester.

"What?"

He shook his head, giving me a nudge toward the door. "Off you go, Princess. You have a Cannibal waiting for finger… chicken." His laugh followed me to the exit.

Men. I swear.

I headed out, recalling my first major experience with the Enforcer known as Cannibal. He had found me outside a dance club, sitting on the curb, pondering the meaning of life. Plopping down beside me, he'd made the mistake of inquiring about a yellow thong attached to my bracelet. After a long explanation with a few shakes of his head and a couple of pinches to the bridge of his nose, he'd offered me a ride home. A flat tire had sent me tumbling, landing face first in his crotch. Definitely at the top of my most embarrassing moments list. Luckily, after a quick fix, he had dropped me home, accepting a promise of cookies for all the trauma he'd suffered in my presence.

CHAPTER 17

Meat picked me up for our second date as promised the next evening. If nothing else, he exuded patience and persistence in spades, giving me little chance to decline. No wasn't an option. Thankfully Jessica had no evening plans after working all day at her shop and volunteered to watch the boys. I hated to ask her to babysit with her busy schedule, but she never minded, especially in a pinch.

The more upscale restaurant served all varieties of dishes while maintaining a pleasant atmosphere for cozy diners, much better than the kids' pizza parlor to which I'd taken the boys several weeks earlier. The corner booth served our purpose, both comfy and out of the way, encouraging conversation while allowing a semblance of privacy as we dug into our meals.

I chomped on a carrot, while he attacked his steak with a vengeance.

"That scent marking thing wasn't very nice."

The loon just grinned, in the midst of chewing.

I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. "The whole night, people told me I smelled like I had a run-in with a skunk."

He paused to swallow and snort. "Heathens. It's a high class cologne scent, musky and sexy."

Uh huh.
"Guess it only works with those critter type people and other special near-humans with highly tuned senses. Jessica and I couldn't smell a thing."

"Human noses aren't sensitive enough to detect it." Meat stabbed another piece of meat.

I grabbed my water, taking a sip. "Yeah, well. I just about got booted out of Cannibal's car last night due to the stench factor."

His eyes hooded for a second, then flashed mischief. "So, he kept his distance last night?"

My spoon clanged against the china bowl full of steaming chicken noodle soup. "If you're asking me if I had my nose in his crotch last night, the answer is no."
I swear. What is that one about curiosity killing the cat?
I could definitely see why that phrase came about. Much more and he would be suffering a bruised shin.

A wicked smile flashed across his face. "And were your panties wet?"

I gasped, almost choked on my own spit. Good thing I didn't have that spoonful of soup in my mouth yet. As it was, the spoon plopped back to the bowl, making another loud clang.

The devil sat there grinning like a mad hare, his eyes challenged me to answer. Gathering up my wits, I tried to focus on a proper retort, something snarky, something haughty. The pressure increased as another couple of seconds ticked away. Finally, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

Meat busted out laughing. For a split second, I stared at him completely confused.

My words came rushing back, causing my face to immediately heat.

His eyes flashed with sensual desire, a promise if I ever saw one.

Why do I feel like I just fell into a tiger pit and there is no way out?
Quickly, I changed the subject to safer ground. "Tell me about yourself."

The expression on his face told me he saw through my topic change, but decided to go with the flow. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's see. You're a liger. There probably aren't too many liger shifters around."

"A few. Not nearly as many as other varieties."

"You've never really spoke of your family. Why's that?"

He shrugged and took a long drink before answering. "Like I said before, trust is an issue. Despite the laws, there's quite a few people out there that would like nothing more to have a liger rug covering their floor."