Spirited 1 (45 page)

Although, at the moment he was in the least heroic position. Ever.

“Hercules, stop before you hurt him. You bad puppy,” the voice said, closer now. “I’m really sorry about Hercules. Are you okay down there? Give me a minute. I’ve almost got his leash on him.”

Ah, Hercules was the
dog’s
name. She was calling the dog a big bear.

The relief coursing through him at the knowledge was quickly overshadowed by a sickening realization. He knew that voice.

There was a distinctive sound of a clink of metal on metal and the dog was suddenly off him. “I’m so sorry,” she said; then she laughed. The sound more an exhalation of air than joy. “I’m really,
really
sorry. He doesn’t normally do this. But I guess all creatures crave freedom, right? Are you . . . are you hurt?”

His gut shrank at her musical voice. Now? She had to show up and see him covered in dog drool and muck, lying on the ground, pinned there by a playful bear-dog?

Maybe if I’m lucky, she won’t recognize me beneath the slobber?

“Dev?” Her voice was closer now. He could feel her breath against his chin as she leaned down to look at him. “Is that you?”

“Uh . . . yeah.” Dev lay there for a moment. His arm still firmly over his eyes and his head throbbing. His luck was good for buckets of suck.

“Why bless your heart. Devon Jones, it
is
you.” She sounded positively gleeful. “What are you doing down there?”

“Playing possum with Fido.” He tugged his arm away and blinked open his eyes. The starbursts were gone but he’d have a nice knot on the back of his skull later. It was already coming up.

And there she was. Leaning over him, her hair a cloud of red curls around her face. Concern and confusion crowded into her sapphire blue eyes. Her pink lips twitched. “Thank God it was you Hercules tackled. How do you do it? You always manage to show up just when I need saving.”

If only that were true.