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Three

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It took three shampoos to clean the blood and slimy muck of the river from her thick tangled locks. Now, she was able to force her fingers through to the scalp. Felt good. Hot water stimulated the skin from the top of her head down to her toes. The muscles between her shoulder blades relaxed.

Lathering up with vanilla body wash on a sponge, she considered all that had happened lately. The river demon was an idiot, but he wasn’t likely to be part of an ambush of a human by werewolves. The way he beat it out of there though, got her to wondering what he actually knew. Hanging out at the riverfront, one might easily become privy to lots of things of the criminal nature, particularly, if you made yourself invisible or part of the natural surroundings. Either, he knew something awful was about to happen, or he simply wanted to get away from her prying into his demon world. Which was more likely, she couldn’t tell. The answer was with the werewolves.

The big guy, she was almost sure she knew him. Not many wolves had the power hump. Only alphas, and usually, there was only one to a pack and he was the main wolf man. And alphas had to fight for status, the loser usually left rather than feel like a punk for losing. But the other two, did very little in the fight, like their hearts wasn’t into it. Their identities, Velvet could not swear to, but she thought she knew them. Either way, she knew she’d meet them again, since they had not completed the objective of slaughtering Leroy. 

Stepping from the shower, she remembered Leroy wasn’t even supposed to be there. He’d followed her on his own, for what purpose, she wondered? He was well aware she didn’t need backup if she didn’t ask for it. And he had those guns, two guns, when he was only able to handle one at a time. Did he know the wolves were out there? Were they after her, after all? If they were, it would make more sense.

Taking a plush towel from the towel ring, she patted her face dry. Before opening her eyes, she sensed a presence outside the door to her bedroom. Quickly, she dried the rest of her tall muscular body, and pulled on a short pink terry robe. Almost all her robes and gowns were pink or partly pink. Not that the color really suited her ebony skin, she simply preferred it because she liked it. Someone once told her the color was too feminine for her personality, and that someone was in her bedroom, ignoring that it was her personal place and that he was no longer welcome.

He stood when she burst into her bedroom, catching him touching the things on her dresser. And having the nerve to be smiling at her long bare legs, he said, “I see you are in one delicious piece.” He let his gaze wander over her curvaceous form under the robe, lingering at the swell of her ample sized cleavage.

Rather than readjust her wrap, she walked upon him, letting her annoyance show at his blatant disregard for her wishes. “How do you keep getting in here?” Her house had conventional security systems as well as enchantments that kept intruders and enemies out, or punished if they managed to get inside. So far, the Egyptian continually entered without harassment. Somehow, he knew how to override her spell, which meant he knew much more about her than she wanted to admit. She could tighten things up, alter her spell, but that wasn’t the issue. It was Rankin’s audacity. His, I can do whatever I want when I want, attitude. For now, since she had other things on her mind, she’d let it go a little longer. Besides, she understood that smile on his face. He wanted to keep playing his little game on her.

She roughly brushed him aside to get to her dresser top for a bottle of baby oil. At six feet two inches, she was shorter than Rankin by three inches. A tall man was always hot, in her book. However these days, he might as well be two inches tall. He missed being good looking by a nose that was too big for his face.

“I want you to stop taking liberties, as if you were still entitled. If you must enter without invitation, you restrict yourself to the living room. Or one day,” she warned, “I won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”

“As if your magic can hurt me.”

Now, what did that mean? That he was naturally immune, or could he jinx her? Or was he daring to imply he was stronger and perhaps smarter? “Careful,” she said, squirting oil inside her palm. Massaging it into her face and neck, she watched him behind her from the mirror. If he thought, he was going to get to watch her moisturize her legs, he had another think coming. “Get out.”

“I just came to see how you are. Milton called me.”

“And I know he told you I was unharmed! Now, get out before I cast you out!”

“All right,” he said, backing out. “I was just going to inquire about Leroy. I know how tight you two are.”

“Right,” she muttered with a roll of her eyes, then grabbed for a tissue to wipe her hands. As quick as that, he was able to irk her to the point of getting ready to fly off the handle. One day though, instead of taking a quick moment to collect her shot to hell emotions, she’d let her anger loose and peel that bald head of his.

Getting dressed in dark slacks and sweater, and short high heeled boots, she checked herself out in the mirror. She looked fine, though she felt low in spirits. Her hair was a mass of thick soft, damp tangles that draped past her shoulders. She forced a wide tooth comb through it, taming it back with styling lotion. In the years since opening the agency, her looks remained the same. Over ten years, and she still looked twenty seven. The age she’d been when she’d taken her first lover. Most witches continued to age until around forty and then they stopped for many years. Wasn’t unusual for a seventy year old to appear to be in her forties, at eighty the aging might start again. So far, magic was really good to her. 

Taking her battle coat over her arm, she went out to the living room, expecting to find Rankin on the couch. He wasn’t on the couch.

In her kitchen, he helped himself to a cup of something. Usually, it was tea or cocoa, never coffee. He turned blowing on the rim of his cup that wasn’t steaming. Clearly, he hadn’t bothered to let the water boil. What was he, scared to burn his tongue, she thought unkindly of him, going to turn the burner on under the teakettle. “What?” He’d raised a slight questioning brow at her entrance.

“I didn’t say anything,” he shrugged.

“I meant that stupid look on your face,” she said, choosing a cup from the mug tree.

“Coffee isn’t going to do your body any good,” he told her as if she cared what he thought. He frowned at her, as she doubled the usual amount of instant coffee in her cup.

She waited for the kettle to scream before adding water, and then scooped in four spoons of sugar with a dollop of cream. While stirring, she glanced at him still frowning at her for not taking his advice. She laughed sipping down the steaming hot brew, unmindful of her precious tongue. “Yummy,” she said, licking her lips.

“Anyway,” Rankin blurted, slamming down his tepid cup of tea. Crossing his arms, he went into business mode. “What’s up with the river demon?”

She didn’t appreciate that tone of his. She was his boss, not the other way around. Casually, she leaned her backside into the counter top. “I caught up with him, but he slipped away again right before the action started.”

“You mean you let the creature go.”

“All right, so what if I did?”

“You never wanted to take the case anyway.”

“Next time don’t take money upfront, unless you plan on working it yourself.”

“Fine,” he answered tightly. “But tell me, why were you so reluctant to catch such a weak demon?”

“River demons aren’t weak, Rankin. They are tricky, which makes them dangerous. If one hasn’t killed anyone, I say leave him alone. People on the water just need to be more careful and respectful of their surroundings.”

“Is that what you expect me to tell our clients? They paid us for results.”

“If they aren’t satisfied with my results, simply give them their money back. I was never comfortable with catching someone for other people. What were they intending to do to him anyway?”

“Is that our concern?”

“It may not be yours, but this agency isn’t designed to do dirty work, Rankin. I caught Mukki and I talked to him that should satisfy everybody.”

“Can you guarantee the vandalism will stop?”

“No.”

“I see.”

“You make the call, Rankin. Tell them the demon has been dealt with, or give them their money back.”

“You really don’t care if I look foolish?”

“I just gave you your options. How you look is up to you.” She drained her cup, rinsed it, left it in the sink, then strolled back into the living room.

“Where are you going?” Rankin asked, seeing her taking the time to pull on her coat.

“Out,” she said.

“I hope you aren’t thinking about going hunting on your own.” Instead of dignifying that with a comment, she rolled her eyes at him again and headed for the door. “Or are you expecting something or someone else?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned. No, he wasn’t going there, not tonight. “What did you say?

“If Milton can’t track him what makes you think you can? What makes you think, he even wants to be found by you?”

“First, of all, you have no idea what you are talking about. Second, it isn’t your business.”

“I know that, Velvet. George Kim was all yours, nobody else wanted any part of that creature.”

“That creature,” Velvet repeated, “Is worth at least six of you.”

“I doubt that,” he unkindly objected. “I’ve never been dead, nor have I taken lives by feeding off mortals, for I am a true immortal.”

“Well, good for you.” And who gives a shit, she added in her head, meaning to leave him and his jealousy alone. But something flitted across his face that gave her pause. Twice he’d reacted to her thoughts and tried to hide it. “What the hell?”

“Excuse me?”

“What’s up with you anyway?”

“Nothing is up with me, Velvet. I’m just here to do a professional job and make sure the rest of the team does the same.”

“Meaning, according to you, I am not professional?”

“I just mean there is room for improvement.”

Son of a bitch! She wanted to slap that face. Instead she said, “Well, fortunately, I’m the boss around here. And I get to set the standards.”

“It’s that attitude that leads me to the next topic.”

The next topic? Like she had time for anything else tonight, when blood thirsty werewolves were on the loose and strange women telling lies about her character were wandering the docks. “Later for you, Rankin.”

“Where are you going?”

“I told you already.”

“Out? Just out, and that’s all you intend to tell me?”

“Since you are neither my dad, nor my husband.”

“Oh, but there was a time,” he grinned. “Wasn’t there?”

“Ancient history.”

“Just say the word, Velvet.”

“Good night, Rankin.” She faded out of his sight before he could reach out to touch her. He’d learned how to do that to keep her from making quick exits. After first, she thought he was just that fast, but tonight, she guessed he was up to tricks, like reading her mind to know what she was about to do before she did it. What a jerk, she thought frowning at his surprised expression. He really must think she was an idiot.

~*~

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Not knowing what to expect, except that it was full of werewolves, she pulled her pistol before entering the place, and kept it pointed downward. A few normals watched her with wide anxious eyes, not scared, but maybe hoping for a little excitement among the super beings. As she approached the bar, she eased up some since she wasn’t getting any especially bad vibes. Except for a partially transformed werewolf behind the bar, the place appeared like any other dance club. And it was really nice too. Lights flashed and sparkled with the loud music that vibrated hard though her chest. She wondered if it was just her, or did everyone feel like they were about to have a heart attack the first time coming in Tanaka’s?

The wolf set her up a complimentary shot of whisky, handling the glass and bottle expertly with his furry hands. Not claws, she noted. “Thanks,” she said. He growled low, nodding his head. “Tell your boss, I want his bean head out here, right now.”

“First, put away the pistol,” he said rather amicably. Not quite human sounding, but she understood him perfectly. After her compliance, he smiled and said, “Now, act like a lady and ask a brother nicely.”

She eyed him coolly a second or two, tossed back the shot of whiskey. “Would you please be so kind as to tell your boss, a lady is here to see him?” The bartender stopped smiling, looking over her shoulder. In the mirror behind the bar, she had already seen the small Asian woman walking powerfully up to her. She wasn’t happy to see her as usual. Their eyes met in the mirror.

“Velvet.”

“Jasmine,” Velvet said, spinning around on the stool, and slipped to her feet and gave her a mocking bow.

“I told you before not to come here during business hours.”

“It’s after hours for Velvet Washington and Associates.”

“You think you’re cute or something?” Jasmine’s face went hard, shifting in her anger.

“Jazz, I’m here to see your weak ass husband. I don’t have time to waste on a fishwife life you.” She got ready for a claw aimed at her face, but Jasmine calmly crossed her arms instead.

“Nice try Velvet, but we aren’t brawling in here tonight.” She signaled the bartender for a double gin on ice. “I told you when we opened this new place we weren’t having your mess.”

At forty-something, Jasmine’s figure was still good and she wore the mini sequined party dress quite well, but to Velvet she needed to tone down the hoochie style, even if she could pass for thirty in dimmed lights. But then, she was married to a younger man, could be she was feeling young these days.

“What are you looking at?” Jasmine snarled, and grabbed up another double. Slamming the empty glass down, she took a step toward Velvet. “Get out of here before I forget I’m a lady.”

“You know I wouldn’t come here unless it was important. I told you I wanted to see Troy. You get him out here, or I’ll go find him.” Velvet pulled both nines, holding them up toward the ceiling. She was seeing that guy tonight, it depended on Jazz how she did it.

“Don’t you dare,” Jasmine hissed. “Troy isn’t here.”

“If you are going to lie to my face,” Velvet said and shot out a couple of lights in the ceiling, then a row of glasses behind the bar. This was why she wasn’t welcome during business hours. She stopped, catching the bartender getting ready to jump on her. “Easy there,” she grinned.

“Are you nuts?” Jasmine screamed. “You’ll have the cops down here!”

“I’m not scared of the cops.”

“I’m warning you, Velvet! Get your ass out of my club!”

“Not until I see Troy.”

“What for,” Jasmine ground out. “Why are you so insistent to see my husband?”

“Earlier today, at the riverfront, a friend of mine was nearly murdered by three werewolves. I know you heard about that.”

“Everybody heard about it.”

“And it ain’t anything to do with us!” The bartender snarled, starting to breath hard. “Jazz just told you.”

“Craig,” Jasmine said the bartender’s name in a calmer voice than she just used and switched what she had to say to his ears in Japanese. Then, “Velvet Washington, for the last time, Troy isn’t here and our pack didn’t touch this friend of yours.”

“You saying, out of town assassins came to attack my driver? You saying, your husband is such a punk that other wolves have the nerve to interlope in his territory and commit a crime?”

“My husband is the Alpha Leader, Velvet.” Jasmine’s voice went low. Her shoulders hunched. Velvet recognized she was preparing to change. “You speak to me with respect, damn you.”

“Or what?” Velvet purposely taunted. “You want to fight me over a guy that spends more time with vampires than his own kind? Is that why he don’t know what his own people is up to these days?” Velvet took an obliging step closer. Towering over the other woman, she continued the insulting banter. Why? She didn’t really know, just wanted to strike out at someone, and werewolves were the ticket. They were strong and resilient. As long as she didn’t pull silver, they wouldn’t go for her jugular or try to claw her heart out. Damn, she just wanted to fight. “You know, he’s with Jerome anytime he’s not with you, right? Right?”

“You shut your mouth, Velvet Washington.”

“You know those two are tight and up to no good out there in the Grove. That’s what they call those corners with the fruit tree names. You know, like apple, cherry, peach and what’s that other one?”

“My husband is not a criminal.”

“As a wife, I think I’d be more worried about other things.”

“What? What are talking about?”

“Jerome.  He likes them young, handsome and exotic. And wowee, Troy is all that and a bag of chips!”

Jasmine swallowed, then seemed to remember she held a drink in her hand. “Bitch!” she screamed, and tossed the vodka in Velvet’s face. “Grr!”

“Jazz!” Craig leaped over the counter so lithe and easily that it looked like he was getting ready to dance rather than getting between two warrior women.

“Move, Craig,” Jasmine ordered. “Nobody comes in my place and gets in my face insulting my husband and my marriage!” She was shouting at the top of her lungs. “Not even this so called superhero, this goddamn battle witch!” She leaped, going right for Velvet, and Craig caught her out of the air, holding her fast. She growled, then began to howl. Some of the female wolves howled and partially transformed. Velvet turned to face them down. Three actually came at her, grabbing hold of her, pushing her back. In the short battle, she dropped her guns in order to land a few blows.

“Back off, now!” Craig pushed the ladies and they easily gave way back into the crowd. “Have you lost your mind? You got a death wish tonight, or what?”

He was mad, royally pissed. Velvet went to pick up her guns. “If I had a death wish, I would’ve chosen somebody I thought could get the job done.”

“You came here to pick a fight,” Craig accused. He went to Jasmine who kept her back turned. “It’s all right. She’s just here to act a fool.”

“I’m not putting up with her, Craig. Get her out before I lose it.”

“No problem. Go on in the office, I’ll bring you some tea.” He led her part way off the floor. He came back, giving Velvet a look at his fangs.

“Back the hell up,” she ordered.

“You shut the hell up. And don’t you dare pull those guns in here again.”

“What’s a little lead, wolf man?”

“Lead hurts, and in case you haven’t noticed, everyone in here ain’t animal.”

He was right, and it wouldn’t help business by allowing patrons to be shot up on the dance floor.

“Get out before I tear you to threads.” It was Jasmine. She didn’t go to rest in the office. She gave Craig a look that said she was cool. “You hear me, witch?”

“Yeah. It ain’t much fun up in here anyway.” She straightened her coat then started for the exit.

“First, you take back that crap about my man and Jerome.” Jasmine ran up on her to grab a fistful of her coat from behind.  Velvet stopped in her tracks. “Take it all back.”

“I take it back,” Velvet said, not bothering to turn around. She was done, and Jasmine was just trying to save face.

Stepping out into the night, she breathed deep. She’d been wrong. Troy wasn’t hiding out behind his wife’s fur. He was with Jerome.

~*~

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At the office, she changed out one of her guns, filling it with silver ammo. So far, she had confrontations with the furry and undead, before the night was over someone was bound to come at her. Not that she needed guns to fight, her magic made her strong enough to handle any brute, and her light power was the best equalizer she knew of against any being living, dead, undead, or magical. With vampires though, she had to be careful. They were tricky and clever. She knew from her days with Wilder, some could jinx her magic. Wilder wasn’t sure how, just that he saw it happen more than once. Three vampires engaging a witch could accomplish it- somehow. If Wilder knew that so did Jerome. Likely, that was why he hesitated. He’d get one chance at her, and only one. And that one shot was coming soon, she could feel it.

Wearily, she rubbed her eyes yawning, it was nearly two o’clock. Sitting behind the receptionist desk, feet up, she conjured herself a hot steaming cup of sugary coffee with lots of cream. Then as if one cue to ruin her moment of bliss, in strolled Rankin. Miffed at his presence, she stared back at him. He said nothing, but proceeded on down the hall to his office. Bastard, she thought like she did every time he showed up like that.

She had little time to reflect on the things that bugged her about the immortal, because before she took another sip of the deliciously decadent brew, in barged Troy Tanaka, huge and mean.

“Oh crap!” she shouted, spilling hot coffee on herself in her mad haste to get to her feet. He was the biggest werewolf she ever saw. His chest was expansive, and he was so tall, had to be seven feet tall. His black fur was sleek and shiny. And he had the power hump. Much bigger than the wolf that attacked Leroy.

Boy, he was fast, she thought, backing herself into the wall behind her to avoid swipes from his dangerously long claws. There was barely room to move, but the desk offered her some protection while she got herself together. Then he just pushed the stationary desk, tearing it from the floor. A mistake because she was fast too. She pulled a silver dagger she kept hidden horizontally against the small of her back from a sheath. She had it slicing into his neck before he even touched her. Snarling, he watched her flip backward, then out into the open. Howling, he pulled the knife from his throat, and threw it, sticking into a wall behind her. He did that as he chased her. Howling again, he threw furniture all over the reception area.

“Troy, stop!” Rankin commanded, holding a rifle.

Troy ignored him, getting on all fours to leap across the width of the floor. Rankin got a shot off hitting him in the back, in his hump. Still, he took Velvet down in a belly to belly hug that could surely kill a normal woman. For Velvet, it hurt and knocked the breath right out of her. His upper body covered her face, and she literally got a mouthful of fur. After a few moments, she was able to cough and move. Troy felt like a ton of bricks. Wiggling out from beneath his dead weight, she wasn’t so sure he was breathing. “Troy?” His blood was on her face and in her hair.

“Vee?” Rankin offered his hand and pulled her up.

“I- I don’t think he’s breathing.”

“He’s fine. Just a tranquilizer. Used them before.” He eyed her, showing concern for the blood on her head and face. “He won’t be out for long though. You okay?”

“He just knocked the breath out of me. Thanks, Rankin. I wasn’t ready for him.” Rankin rushed to cuff Troy’s wrists and ankles. A minute was about all they’d get.

“I’m not even going to ask you what you did to this fool.” The look in his eye told her he expected an explanation all the same. She gave him a brief rundown of the scene she caused at Tanaka’s. He made no comment just pressed his pale lips together and went to secure the front door.

Troy’s throat was closing up and he started to move around against his bonds. She went over and rolled his heavy body with her boot and hunkered down beside him. He opened his glassy eyes, trying to focus them on her. His breath to her great surprise was not foul, just kind of hot. “Hey, handsome,” she said, stroking his fur hopefully to irritate him. Stroking was calming, and she knew the last thing Troy wanted was to be calm at the moment. He snarled, rocking his body, trying to evade her touch.

“Velvet, you shouldn’t do that,” Rankin said, rushing back over.

“Oh, it’s not hurting him. A big bad guy like him,” she said, scratching behind his ears.

“You know he hates you.”

“Hate is such a strong word.” She rubbed his face and he snapped at her. “Take it easy, boy,” she cooed, rubbing the fur on his chest. It was soft and kind of pretty. “There you go,” she said softly.

“Velvet.” Rankin pulled her arm bringing to her feet. “Stop touching him against his will. How would you like it if a man did that to you?”

“I wasn’t-”

“He’s helpless, Velvet.”

She got down on the floor with Troy again. He tensed making guttural noises at her touch. It wasn’t painful, or sexual, Troy was just hamming it up for Rankin’s benefit. She glanced at Rankin, it was really bothering him to the point that he left the reception area, slamming his office door behind him.

“Alone at last,” she purred in Troy’s ear. He bucked and grunted and managed to knock her back, stunned on her butt. “All right, all right.” She got up brushing off her backside. “Transform.”

“He can’t,” Rankin said, stepping out of his office again. “He’s too weak from the tranquilizer. You’ll have to take off the cuffs.”

Right. Take off the cuffs. She looked Troy in his dark eyes, they were clear, and Velvet suspected he was just about able to snap the silver bonds with his renewed strength. “Troy, transform now.”

“Velvet-”

“Rankin.” She continued to stare down at Troy, blinked once and the wolf man was gone. His neck wound completely healed. “Welcome back,” she smiled at him, touching his cheek.

“Keep your hands off me,” he growled. “Don’t touch me, you witch.”

“Fine.” She went where the desk used to be and picked up her guns.

“Take off these cuffs!” Troy roared. “Uncuff me right now!”

“Do it, Rankin,” she said, pointing both pistols at his chest. “Just be smart, please.” It wasn’t fun anymore, she was getting tired again. She bet he could smell the fatigue on her. He got up limber and agile, the effects of the tranquilizer forgotten. His human form was smaller, yet still impressive. Though she’d seen him numerous times, she never noticed how tall and big he was, well cut and just plain gorgeous. Her eyes went to the vanished cut she inflicted on his rich caramel skin. He was perfect, not a scar on his body that she could see- and she was looking! Going down his body, her eyes were fascinated at the tense muscles and shape. Hard belly leading down to thin pubic hair, to his stiff penis growing right before her eyes! God, he was hung, she thought, as a hot flush of something hit her right between the thighs.

“Velvet!” It was Rankin sounding all mad. “I know you’ve seen a naked man before.”

“Huh? What?” She brought her eyes up to Troy’s face. He was grinning right at her and for a few seconds there was nothing else in the world but his mouth. Then her eyes traveled down again. “Oh my,” she whispered softly in awe of it.

“Vee!” Rankin shook her arm bringing her out of the haze. “Go get a drink of water.”

“I- I’m not thirsty.”

“Just hungry,” Troy jibed. “Quite hungry,” he grinned.

“Animal!” Rankin crossed over to slug him in the mouth. Troy caught his arm on the second swing, but didn’t attempt to fight back. “You don’t touch her, or the next shot will be quick silver, not bullets or tranquilizers.”

“Rankin,” Velvet chided. No need going all hard core.

“He wasn’t upset at you touching him, he was getting turned on. I tried to tell you.”

“Well, next time don’t be trying to tell me. Just tell me.” Another flush of heat struck her at the thought she was what made Troy get thick. She met Troy’s eyes, he was thinking something sexy about her, she just knew it! Felt it in her chest, as her heart beat began to quicken.

“I’ll be right back,” Rankin announced, taking his leave back down to his office.

“So,” Troy grinned. Obviously perfectly fine to be the only nude person in the room, he crossed his arms on his chest. “Craig told me you wanted to see me. If I’d known just how much...”

“Is that what the rage was about?” she asked, cutting off the suggestive remarks.

“What else?”

“I thought maybe Jerome gave you orders.”

“Orders?” Clearly, he didn’t like that word in conjunction with himself. “I don’t take orders from anyone, Velvet.”

“Strongly suggested then,” she mockingly amended.

“All that hate you got going with Jerome is just that, between you two. You bug the hell out of me, but I didn’t come here to kill you. But you better get something straight, Velvet. Don’t harass my wife again. And don’t set those feet of yours in our club, or there will be trouble.”

“I go wherever a trail leads me.”

“Your friend was attacked by werewolves, but they aren’t mine.”

“So, you just let strange wolves come to town and do stuff?”

“No.” He studied her silence for a moment. “What aren’t you saying, Velvet? You know something about those wolves.”

She walked around to the knocked over couch, righted it and sat down, and placed the nines beside her. It took her gaze from his manly parts. He took a chair dragging it to sit with her. “Did you even bother to go down to the riverfront?”

“I went with a crew. There was nothing, not even a scent of blood.”

“What? Leroy was bleeding out down there. And surely, a crew could sniff out three wolves.”

“Normally, it’s a cinch, but that scene was wiped clean, like it never happened.”

“But that’s impossible.” That wasn’t true, anything was possible. “Anyway, I can identify the big guy. He was Tank and I’m almost sure the other two were a brother and sister.”

“You telling me you can identify werewolves in wolf form during battle?” He sounded like he believed anything but that. He got up to walk, still comfortable in his nakedness.

Velvet sneaked another long peek at him from the back. The view was just as good. If he wasn’t married, she thought. What? What would she do? Go over there and grab a piece of buttocks? And then what, cut his throat?

“I know Tank has a hump like you. And I fought him before years ago, when I was a cop. Also werewolves like everybody else give off vibes and auras. Everyone is different. I know the other two are blood related or maybe married, but I say siblings.” Troy didn’t turn around. Was he suddenly feeling naked? “And neither one of them uttered one word. Troy, they were your people, if you didn’t give them the order to kill Leroy, who did? And who has the power to make loyal pack members defy you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sure, you do.”

“Velvet.”

“You have three days to figure out what happened, if you even care. Then my associates and I will officially be handling this.”

“You think it’s Jerome.” Troy turned his head, not his body to look at her and hear the answer.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Hate.” Then, “And he uses other people to go at me. He’s been afraid of alienating Wilder’s affection, but that is not a concern right now. He just wants to hurt me and make me crazy. He’s using you and his brood and stealing your people.”

“No, it’s too ridiculous.”

“All right. I just wanted you to know about your people. They might be in trouble, but if they attempt anything with my people again, I’ll be fighting to the death. Understand?”

He quietly padded across the room making no sound at all. She looked up into his eyes. “You’re telling me, I shouldn’t blame you.”

All she could think about was if he was still rigid and long. He had a hard on, was it about her, or just a werewolf thing? Primal biology? Anyway, he had a wife. A wife that would try to scratch her eyes out, if she were so bold as to reach out and touch his skin, run her fingertips through the sparse thin hair covering his chest. Somehow she got the feeling, he’d let her do it, and maybe a bit more.

Finally, he lowered his gaze from her face, backed off, turned away, and gave her that muscled butt to view again.

Rankin came back carrying a pile of clothes. “You all right?” he asked her, but stared at Troy’s wide back.

She had to clear her throat, and tear her eyes off the tall nude man that seemed to take up the whole reception area. “Sure.” How was it possible to go from slashing his throat to wanting to jump his bones in just a few minutes? And why was Rankin there to see it? Because he’s always there, cramping her style one way or the other, it was his gift.

“Here, man.” Rankin tossed the clothes in Troy’s general direction. When he turned he said, “Get dressed.”

“I don’t need your clothes.” Troy looked like he’d die before putting on anything that once adorned Rankin’s body.

“It’s not an option,” Rankin stressed and moved in front of Velvet. “In human form, you aren’t much bigger than me.”

“In your dreams.  Anyhow, Velvet and I have concluded our business.”

“Oh?” Rankin glanced at Velvet. “I was only gone for a moment.”

“Good night.” Troy moved fast, blur like and out the front door. Velvet ran behind him, out to the curb. The street was empty, she looked up to the rooftops.  Covered in fur, hiding his nakedness, he was moving fast from one building to the next.

“Why do you do it?” Rankin stood directly behind her.

“Do what?” She watched the rooftops even though Troy was long gone already. She just didn’t need to see the disapproval on Rankin’s face right now.

“Go out of your way to rile him up.”

“I didn’t want this day to go into tomorrow without answers.”

“Did you get any?”

“Maybe,” she answered, deciding she didn’t care about his disapproval, or the fact that she was still flushed from the sight of Troy’s perfect body. Wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about actually. If she had no reaction then that was cause to question her own sensuality. She looked at him. He was pissed at her, but not about business. He hated that she reacted so strongly to Troy as a man. “I was right about Jerome.”

“The wolves aren’t Troy’s?”

“They are, but he can’t believe it.”

“Why can’t he?”

“He doesn’t trust me. And he considers Jerome a friend.” She took out her phone, started to make a call.

“Velvet.”

“What?”

“Don’t get between those two. Leroy isn’t dead, and you warned him about Jerome. That’s enough, let’s walk away from it.”

“No damn way.”

“And why not? I just told you-”

“One, human blood was spilled. Two, human blood was spilled by Jerome. And number three, I don’t know how Leroy came to be at the riverfront packing heat, and neither does he. So I’m not about to step away from anything.” She walked down the sidewalk to make her call.

“Milton.” He always answered by the second ring, unless he was involved or engaged in something good. Something good to Milton was battle. “I just met Troy. He doesn’t know much. Look, I’m pretty sure the culprit is Jerome. Is it possible you can go after him tonight?”

“Doubt I can catch him tonight, but I can use a work out.”

“Can you do this without going into full dhampir mode?”

“What you mean?”

“I don’t want you to get relentless. Will you be able to pull yourself away? Just chase him for a minute?”

“I could, but why?”

“You know why.” She heard him take a long breath and she imagined him pushing his short locks back over his head. “I just need a little more room tonight. Take Tyra and Devon for backup.” Silence. “Milton?”

Finally, “It’s your call.”

“But?”

“Look, we just need to talk. All right?”

“Sure.” He ended the call, not saying goodbye.