Chapter Six

The next day, Razor was once again standing in a filthy alley, his nose finally completely healed thanks to his Hellhound genetics.

He certainly wasn’t surprised to be standing where he was now. He was fairly certain he spent more time in back alleys than he did in his own damn apartment.

Part of the job description, he added mentally as he palmed the handgun at his hip. He wasn’t complaining. In exchange, he ruled a kingdom that was as coveted as diamonds were to humans. Even if that meant his personal life came second.

As one of the leaders of Shadow Realm, he had a responsibility to be in contact with all seven Sectors. It was good for business that the citizens of Shadow Realm saw him out working and keeping them safe. Plus, he enjoyed being out in his streets. He would probably put a bullet in his brain if he had to be stuck in an office all day. It was more than enough that he had to do it once a week for court.

Flicking his lighter on, he puffed a cigarillo to life.

He’d been waiting for nearly twenty minutes for Sasha to arrive. He was no longer pissed off at her over her stunt last night, but her tardiness was grating on his nerves. Catching her on her way to the party house had been a total fluke. He’d been out on patrol when he’d caught sight of Sasha and Sael. He recognized tension when he saw it, and Sasha and his Sector Three commander had been battle ready. Instinct had made him pull over and follow on foot.

He glanced down at his watch for a third time, noting that Sasha had exactly eight minutes to get her ass in this alley before he took off without her. Not like he hadn’t warned her. He’d been very specific. Noon meant noon.

After Sasha had left him standing and talking to the air last night, he had received a call from Luka, the alpha of the Shifters, informing him that a young crow Shifter had information she wanted to share. According to Luka, Corthiaa had spotted several humans entering the land on Celeste Nation’s border to Shadow Realm. It wasn’t unheard of, humans sneaking in through Celeste. Most of them were harmless. When they caught curious ones wandering the streets thinking themselves brave, he or his enforcers would simply pick them up and escort them back out. Of course, they received a nice little threat to make sure they didn’t come back.

What most of them failed to comprehend was that entering Shadow Realm when you were a non-authorized human was akin to suicide. Because to some of the Others that inhabited parts of this realm, they were nothing more than meat. Sometimes the only evidence of a stupid human sneaking in undetected was finding their bones—clean of flesh—on the street.

It was never a big shock, or a reason for any of his citizens to be punished. If humans were too stupid to grasp that the hundreds of warning signs that decorated the wall separating Shadow Realm from Celeste—which was the only point of entry besides the sea on the other side—were there for their own safety, then they deserved to get eaten.

The human citizens that did live in Shadow Realm wore the same magical tattoo everyone else did. Although there were other circumstances that would warrant a tattoo, those were on a case-by-case basis. Then there were those who had a permit to enter the land: merchants, performers, and casual visitors. They went through extensive background checks at Sin’s hands. If you entered Shadow Realm with none of the above, you had a window of three days to announce your presence, or risk being fair game.

Annoyance growing, Razor puffed away at his blunt, thankful that he’d brought them. He’d have to stock up soon. Thanks to Sasha, he’d been going through more of his Blood Root than usual. He made a mental note to contact his dealer.

Exhaling smoke, he thought back to the brief details he’d gotten from Luka. He was almost certain he knew who the culprit of this break-in was. Poachers. It wouldn’t be the first time, either. And these bastards weren’t hunting animals. No, they came to hunt Others. It made him foam at the mouth that no matter how many guards he assigned to monitor the borders, there always seemed to be that one poacher who managed to make it through.

Even if it were poachers, he would leave no stones unturned when it came to this case. He’d follow every possible lead, even if it led nowhere. It was too soon after all the recent weirdness for Razor not to at least consider that it could be related to the souls case.

The sound of footsteps approaching cut through his thoughts, but he had already known Sasha had been nearing. He’d caught her scent when she’d rounded the corner three blocks away.

“About time, Sasha,” he said as a greeting, while he smashed out his cigarette with the tip of his boot.

“You said noon,” Sasha answered as she stepped into the mouth of the alley. “I’m actually early.”

Rubbing his forehead, sure he was feeling a headache coming on, he lifted his arm and looked at the numbers on this watch.

“Twenty-three seconds, Sasha. You’re twenty-three seconds early.”

“Still early.” She shrugged.

He took a couple of deep breaths, tempted to turn around and leave her in the alley.

“Next time, be a lot early,” he grated out, unsure exactly why he was being so tough on her. She was technically early.

“Yeah, sure. It’ll give me time to pull that stick out of your ass.”

He ignored that. Shit, at this rate, he’d tie and gag Sasha to the nearest pole and do this on his own. Maybe while he had her tied up, he could steal the kiss he’d been craving.

“Or maybe you could just fuck off, Razor,” she added.

A crow flew into the alley, cutting off his retort. A second later, the bird shifted into the form of a naked young woman. Corthiaa’s eyes jumped between Razor and Sasha, finally staying on him. He smiled as she looked him over quickly, probably searching for anything of value on him. She wouldn’t get within swiping distance, but it was in her nature to look for things of value. Crow Shifters enjoyed their trinkets and shiny things. They were innate acquirers (aka hoarders), so Corthiaa’s tip about the poachers hadn’t come from the goodness of her heart. This would be a business transaction.

Choosing to take the first step, he moved to Corthiaa, who had dropped her head and was now slightly bowed, her body language submissive. Someone who obviously respects me, Razor thought, fighting the urge to glance back at Sasha. Not that he wanted her to be submissive; no, he liked her just the way she was, attitude and all.

However, if she ever did agree to let him into her bed, he would make sure she was clear on who was in charge when they hit the mattress. Him.

“Hello, Corthiaa.” He knew crows had their own dialect, but he decided to stick to Empyrean for Sasha’s sake. “Thanks for meeting me.”

The female crow glanced up at him before adverting her eyes once again. In any other circumstance, he would have demanded that she look at him. But he knew that crows had very strict hierarchies, and this girl more than likely had been taught from an early age to drop her eyes respectfully in the presence of dominants.

“You’re welcome,” she said quietly in Empyrean. He hadn’t been worried that she wouldn’t understand him. Empyrean, being the universal language in New Earth, was taught to everyone from birth. To some, like the crow Shifters, it was a second language. While for others, their primary.

“Will you tell me what you saw?”

The young crow Shifter recounted how she had seen a group of three people, wrapped in black from head to toe, jump the wall and stealthily make their way through the streets of Shadow Realm. Corthiaa hadn’t followed very far, which was a relief. She was still a fledgling, no need to be putting herself in harm’s way.

Pulling out the hairpins he’d picked up at Goldies’ Pawn Shop on his way there, he extended his arm, offering them to the girl. Corthiaa’s eyes lit up. Shiny and decorated in aquamarine stones, they had caught his attention when he’d passed the store, and he’d known they’d be something a young crow would like. The Shifter hadn’t requested anything in particular, just said she wanted a shiny reward in exchange for the information. Judging by her expression, he had done a good job.

Taking her payment from his outstretched hand, Corthiaa smiled. “Thank you. They’re beautiful, and more than I was expecting.”

“Any information that helps keep those bastards out of our city deserves something pretty.” He cleared his throat. “But that is only a small token in comparison to what you and your family would get if you kept us informed of anything suspicious you might see in and around Shadow Realm.” The crow Shifters, although under Luka’s protection, weren’t obligated to keep watch over the city. For years, Razor and his brothers, along with Luka, had tried to get some sort of agreement with them. But the crows refused, preferring instead to concentrate on expanding their collection of shinies rather than to be spies for the Hellhounds.

The female crow glanced around nervously. “I’ll pass that along to Axel.”

He gave her a nod. “Then be well, Corthiaa, and thank you again.”

With a small smile, the crow Shifter turned on her heel, shifted, and flew away with the pins in her beak.

“You think Axel will say yes?” Sasha’s voice came from next to him.

“I fucking hope so. It would make things a lot easier. But she’s stubborn,” he told Sasha. He winked as he added, “That seems to be a thing with you females.”

She punched his arm. “Asshole.”

A burst of pleasure ran through him at Sasha’s playful punch. It was the second time she’d touched him in this playful manner. He glanced down at her, noticing the small, teasing smile on her lips. She looked so damn pretty, it felt as if she’d punched him in the gut instead of the arm.

He wondered what she would do if he gave in to his craving and kissed her right now. Probably punch him in the gut for real.

“Was that meant to be a punch? ’Cause it felt more like a kitten’s paw caressing my arm.”

She gave him a cute side-glare and turned on her heels, moving out of the alley. If Razor had been in Hellhound form, his tail would have been wagging giddily right about now.

Then she threw him a haughty look over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling. “That’s not what you said the other day when I broke your nose.”

He blinked, then threw back his head and laughed. Damn right, he hadn’t. He’d been too busy popping a massive erection.

When he caught up to her, he was still grinning like an idiot, once again reminded how little he knew her.

She was reading something on her phone, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Looks like I might have some useful info soon. I put the word out to some of my slum kids, and I just got a text from one of them wanting to meet with me in two days.”

“A kid, Sasha? Great. And why two days?”

She slipped her phone into her jacket pocket. “It’s most likely a way to lose any possible tails. That’s the thing about these kids, Razor. They’re all so damn distrustful that no matter what, they’re always cautious. The way they see it, if anyone is watching, two days of doing nothing but mundane stuff would throw them off.”

“You know a lot about the slums.”

“Everyone forgets about the slums.”

“I don’t.”

She looked up at him, a spark of anger igniting in her eyes. “There’s a difference between knowing they’re there and actually being involved.”

He snorted. “You think I don’t know that? There’s only so much that I can do. I already spend eighty percent of my time in hotels—”

A humorless laugh burst from Sasha’s lips. “Oh, well boo-fucking-hoo. How sad for you.” She began making exaggerated hand gestures. “Look at me, I’m Razor!” She had dropped her voice to sound deep and was growling the words. Was she…mimicking him? He narrowed his eyes. “I’m whiny because I miss my nice, warm bed. Won’t someone please help me get a clue?”

“What the fuck are you going on about?”

She stopped walking and turned to him, once again serious. “These kids know your city better than you do. They can help. Don’t underestimate them. I know you and your brothers have done what you can to help them, and I know some don’t want to leave the slums, but don’t talk about them like they’re without merit. They’ve gone through hell and back in your city, worried about living to the next day, and they’re still good kids. Loyal to the bone. They’ve given me some valuable information when I’ve needed it.”

He studied her for a moment and realized that this was a big thing to her. She genuinely cared. Another facet of Sasha unveiled.

He inclined his head. “Point made. We’ll see your contact in two days.”

She looked taken aback by his easy acceptance of her impassioned speech. She had probably expected a fight. He could understand that; it was kinda their thing. But he wasn’t going to fight her, because she was right. Everyone in his land counted.

“Well, okay,” she said uncomfortably.

“Okay,” he replied, fighting a smile. If feisty, angry Sasha was hot, and funny Sasha was irresistible, this uncomfortable, awkward Sasha was just too fucking adorable. And once again, he wanted to kiss her so bad, his lips were tingling with the need.

As if sensing his thoughts, a tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. Turning away swiftly, she continued walking. He sighed quietly in disappointment and followed after her.

For a second, he had entertained the idea that her teasing meant maybe she had begun to thaw a little towards him. But her quick retreat made him realize that he’d been way off. Maybe it would always be like this between them.

Would it really hurt her to smile at him more often, though? Because, fuck him, she had a gorgeous smile. It made her eyes glow from the inside out. He had long ago accepted they might never hook up, but at this point, he would take friends, at the very least. With benefits would be fantastic, but he wasn’t going to hold his breath.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Razor pulled out his phone, checking the coordinates of where Corthiaa had seen the trespassers.

“We’re close, stay alert,” he called out. Sasha quietly pulled out a handgun, keeping it low on her hip. He tried hard to ignore the way his cock twitched at the picture she painted, keeping his eyes ahead of him instead of on the woman beside him who moved like a sleek fox.

When they came up to the (very obvious) point of entry, he motioned for Sasha to check the area. She gave him a sharp nod and disappeared around the corner.

The thick, thorny bushes that served as yet another visible Warning: Do Not Trespass sign had been cut down. A gap in the middle of thousands of sharp stingers mocked him. Piece of shit motherfuckers.

He walked in a wide circle around the area, searching for scents. He caught a few, but they were so faint that he wasn’t even sure if they were worth tracking. He couldn’t even be sure the trespassers had left this way, or if there had been more than one access point.

His phone vibrated. It was a text from Sasha.

Got something.

She included coordinates, but he didn’t need them.

Following her scent, he found her crouched over something several streets over from where he’d been.

“What is—” He didn’t finish because the instant he neared the area, the stench of Other blood hit him. A thin trail of it led to another trimmed-off section of thorn bushes, this one not as neat as the point of entry.

They’d been in much more of a hurry leaving than they’d been arriving. Yeah, because they had a fucking trophy kill with them.

He had to take several deep breaths. His Hellhound side wanted him to come out. He almost needed to shift, to leap over the wall and follow the trail. But the more logical side of his brain said that it’d be pointless.

“Stop it.” Sasha’s sharp command was at odds with the warm hand she placed on his forearm. She had touched him again, part of his brain noted. “You can’t hunt them alone, not out there. Just like human law doesn’t apply in Shadow Realm, your law doesn’t apply out there.” She motioned with her chin to Celeste. “You would have a target on your back even with Edge’s connection to the human president.”

Inhaling deeply, he pushed back the need to shift. Her words and voice helped keep the beast in its cage.

“Good?” she inquired quietly, her hand rubbing a soothing circle on his back.

He nodded and had been about to make a smart-ass comment about her bossiness and the fact that she’d touched him so much in one day, when he saw her concerned expression. The idea that she might care if he went after the trail and got hurt in the process warmed something in his chest. Or maybe he was just an idiot. He used his extended fangs as an excuse to keep his mouth shut.

“You got any scents?” she asked him after a minute.

He shook his head. The blood was Other, he knew that. But it was too little and too old to track.

They spent the next hour going through the entire block, looking in every corner with no luck. Whoever had entered his city knew what they were doing and, with the exception of the small amount of blood, had left no clues behind. The blood had obviously been a mistake. With both access points clean to the point of being sterile, the bastards had probably only left the blood because they’d had to make a hasty exit. The question was, what had spooked them enough that they’d left the blood behind in the first place? Had they been seen? If so, where was the witness and why the fuck had they not spoken up?

Irritation made him grit his teeth.

“I need you to get with Sael,” he instructed Sasha. “Have her set up a couple of Cerulis Demons. Those guys have better noses than even Hellhounds. Have them sniff out every corner of Three.”

He turned on his heel, his mind already turning over what bars and back-alley joints were in the area. He would hit them up tonight. Someone might have seen or heard something, and he was willing to pay for the info—

Behind him, Sasha cleared her throat.

“Yeah, about that,” she said, a little too casually.

He turned to faced her. Her body was relaxed as she played with the end of a dark curl. Her eyes said she was anything but.

“You’re my partner, Razor. Not my employer. I have ideas too. Why don’t you get with Sael, and I’ll handle myself?”

He knew Sasha hadn’t realized he had moved until he was in her face. Her eyes were briefly uneasy before returning to their same defiant burn. They breathed the same air for several heartbeats. He tried to calm himself enough to not say anything he might regret, while Sasha attempted to stare him down until she got her way. She was going to be sorely disappointed.

He bared his fangs. “Don’t, Sasha. I’m not doing this dance with you tonight.” He knew he was speaking more harshly than the moment called for, but he had to make her understand that he wasn’t going to get into any pissing contests with her, not while this case needed two hundred percent of their focus. “You won’t like what you find if you keep pushing me tonight.”

Razor was feeling less than polite. Trespassers had more than likely taken a live person out of his city, not even hours ago. Add to that his growing obsession with her and the fact that his dick seem to remain half hard whenever he was around her, even while she fought with him over anything and everything under the sun…yeah, she had chosen the wrong moment to try to prove to him just how much she didn’t need a partner.

“Xavier wants you to be out here, sleuthing away in dangerous corners of Shadow Realm, putting your life at risk—working side by side with me. You followed Xavier’s order to help me in this investigation, so you will do as you’re told, Sasha. A partner I can do. But I won’t tolerate an insubordinate brat. And that’s exactly how you’re acting right now.” He leaned even closer until their noses were touching. “He wants you to be his little Reaper soldier? Then act like one.” Stepping back, he gave her a sneer. “You have your orders. You’re dismissed, soldier.”

The shock on her face only lasted the seconds it took for her to pull out her dagger and toss it directly at him. He could have caught it. With his speed, he could have easily stopped it, or the very least avoided it. But he didn’t move a single inch, even as the blade embedded itself in his left bicep.

...

Sasha should have just gone home. It wouldn’t kill her to let Razor get the last word once in a while. Except she couldn’t. Here she was, thinking they’d finally made a good team. Thinking they could ignore whatever sizzled in the air between them and just focus on working together. While this search hadn’t yielded direct results, they’d worked together and made progress on their investigation without killing each other.

Well, until he had opened his big, stupid mouth.

And now, even as he calmly pulled her dagger out of his arm, he made no moves to attack her back. Which just pissed her off even more.

“I really hate you, you know,” she snarled, stalking up to him without breaking eye contact. It was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that. She hated what he did to her. How unsettled he made her feel. He threw her off balance, and she couldn’t have that. Not now, not ever.

“Fuck you. I’m no one’s soldier.” She pushed against his chest, hard.

When that wasn’t enough, she cracked her fist across his jaw. Jabbed at his middle, kicked at his shin. Hell, she even curled her fingers and let her nails claw down his chest to be followed by another punch. Move after move, she tried to hurt him however she could.

“Fight back, dammit,” she snapped when he stayed still.

Because what she was really upset with was his ability to break right past her defenses. And she liked it, dammit! Liked him, with his honesty and integrity and stupid jokes.

No. She couldn’t let herself get close with anyone, not anymore.

He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose, but it killed her inside that he had seen right through her. And that reminded her why she put up such thick walls to begin with. Letting someone in meant they had the power to hurt you. And for Sasha, make her doubt her chosen path.

After dodging most of her hits—but not all of them, she noticed smugly—he finally caught her wrists in his hands. His eyebrows were furrowed low, shadowing his black eyes. “Is this your go-to reaction when someone gets too close to the truth? Violence?”

She bared her teeth at him and hissed before responding. “Yes. It works rather well.” Or worked. Before you.

He laughed humorlessly until he noticed her knee coming up. He grunted and just barely moved away from the ball-crushing impact. “Shins? Balls? Is that the fighting style they teach in Reaper school?”

“No,” she said, her voice now hoarse and scraping against her throat. “It’s my style.” Something twisted in her chest, and she found herself speaking a raw truth. “Violence is a lot better than curling up and wishing for a death that never comes.”

Then she shocked both of them when she leaned closer to him. Brushed her lips over his gently. Let her eyes flutter closed.

Razor inhaled sharply, but remained still, not kissing her back. He just stood there and let her press her lips to his. Almost like he wasn’t sure what to do.

Taking the full leap, she kissed him fully. No feather-light touches anymore, she slanted her lips over his, tasting the heat of his mouth. She suddenly needed to kiss him more than she needed her next breath, and she didn’t care to fight it this time. She wanted to take advantage of him and the moment to shed the loneliness she wore all day, every day. He was there, not pushing her away, and he had already seen some of how fucked up she was.

There was no more resistance from him after that, and only a split second of hesitation before he was kissing her back. He opened for her, and her tongue swept through his mouth. He tasted just as delicious as she’d imagined. She was barely aware of the soft noise she made in the back of her throat.

His hand curled around the back of her neck, tipping her head back. She gladly let him take over the kiss, and the pleasure of doing so flickered through her. The slow burning kiss that made her toes curl was not what she’d been expecting, but it turned out to be exactly what she needed.

It seemed like he could have kissed her forever, but she didn’t have forever to give him. So she pushed him away, and he gave a soft growl of disagreement in response.

She kept her eyes closed and disentangled herself from his arms. Took one step back, then another.

In those few, precious seconds in his arms, she’d felt alive. And she couldn’t want that, didn’t deserve it. Deep down, she’d always known he wasn’t just the arrogant ass she’d written him off to be. There was more to him. If she weren’t so damaged, maybe she would have explored that with him. But she could never lose sight of her reality, and her goal. Neither of which included any kind of intimacy.

Inhaling deeply, she let the stench of her surroundings fill her lungs until Razor’s scent had cleared from her head. When she finally opened her eyes again, her shields were firmly back in place, though she didn’t look directly at him. She didn’t want to see his face and whatever might be written on it just now.

“We’ll do it your way this time,” she said, her tone flat. “Don’t call me unless you have a lead. If I find anything, I’ll call.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her steps measured and calm. He didn’t try to stop her, which was a relief. She wanted to make sure he got the impression that she was the one dismissing him, and not just running away again.

...

Her name should have been Chaos. That would have been more fitting.

Razor actually made it home that night. And all he felt in this place that had once been his sanctuary was agitation. He felt disoriented, like he was getting ready to boil over from the inside out. The home he guarded like a secret from the public wasn’t bringing him any peace. On the contrary, it only made him feel confined.

And he knew exactly who was to blame.

If he were smart, he would cut his losses and assign one of his commanders to work with Sasha. He was used to the bickering and mock antagonism. What he wasn’t used to was her blatant disregard for his position in Shadow Realm, whether it was on purpose or not.

And moreover, Sasha’s ability to shield any traces of her emotions from him, like a no service zone for his nose, wasn’t helping his mood.

In his living room, he dropped onto the couch, then immediately stood back up. He cursed as he fished out one of his smokes and lit it up. He took several puffs and began to pace the room as the scene from earlier replayed in his mind, from after they’d investigated the trespassers.

“Goddess fucking dammit.”

It still made him cringe. He had no idea where his reaction had come from. All he knew was that it wasn’t like him to lash out the way he had. He had dealt with harsher situations than a disagreement on how to handle an investigation, but none had gotten him so riled up so quickly. There was just something about Sasha that seemed to push all the right—or wrong—buttons.

He also had a gut feeling that he had only succeeded in inciting the rebelliousness that burned brightly in her gaze. He wasn’t scared of it, though; it was the thing that had drawn him to her the first place. Back then, when Shadow Realm had still been a newborn babe, it had been entirely too easy to find willing bed partners to celebrate with, and he’d happily ridden the wave of victory. But he’d grown tired real quick of being wanted only because of the recent victory, or for the reputation they would gain by sharing his bed.

Then Sasha had come along—all sleek curves and sharp, beautiful eyes—and unlike most other females that had crossed paths with Razor and his brothers during that time, she hadn’t even spared him a second glance when Xavier had introduced her as the new Reaper. Someone who wanted nothing from him had been a new sight to someone with Razor’s past. He could admit that it had all started as a sort of challenge for him. One that had turned into a misplaced crush.

And he would have been happy with a simple crush—catching glimpses of her from afar with a few of their usual interactions thrown into the mix—but then she had gone and stolen his rifle, and released all sorts of emotions in him like he was some kind of Pandora’s box. And to make matters worse, she’d gone and kissed him tonight.

As if that weren’t enough, she had then let Razor see that their kiss had unsettled her, too. She hadn’t been able to hide that from him. Her eyes had been alight with it for a second just as she’d pulled back from him. His heart had been beating so fast he thought it might have been ready to jump right into her hands then and there. A dangerous thing.

But then her usual cold indifference had promptly gone up over her features again, and everything had gone back to normal.

Goddess, why had she given him that kiss? An incredible, perfect, and addictive kiss. A kiss he never thought he would get. Was it any wonder he was a fucking mess right now? How could he not be?

He licked his lips, thinking he might be imagining her taste still on his lips.

Had he even been kissed that way before? Razor knew the answer was fuck no. He would have remembered a kiss like that. He hadn’t stolen it, or coaxed it from her. She had given it to him willingly, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by his beast. Whether Sasha had done it to shut him up or for some deeper, more complex reason didn’t seem to matter. It had happened, and it complicated things between them.

“Violence is a lot better than curling up and wishing for a death that never comes.”

Razor snarled as he heard the echo of her voice in his head, the rest of their encounter coming forth with the words.

He wanted to know who had hurt her to such a degree that it caused a strong woman like Sasha to look so defeated.

When he had asked her if her bursts of violence were over someone getting a little too close to the truth, it had been a rhetorical question. He hadn’t even been expecting an answer. The look of pain as she had answered it anyway had him…feeling things. Things that went beyond attraction and lust and curiosity. Front and center was the need to kill whoever it was that had put that look on her face. He’d felt protective of her, which was another new experience.

Stomping noisily into the bathroom, he pulled out his basket of toiletries from the countertop. The cut from Sasha’s dagger would heal soon enough, but there was a trail of blood that had dried on his skin. He wiped at the blood angrily with a wet washcloth.

What he really should have been doing, instead of stomping around trying to decipher his relationship with her, was setting up boundaries between them, at least while the case was active. Razor was a professional; this wasn’t his first rodeo. Besides, Sasha had said it best: she wasn’t a damsel in distress, and he sure as fuck wasn’t some knight.

Maybe he would give her tasks, take her with him only when needed, and then all would be well.

Yeah, that was it. Stay focused, stay professional. He could handle that.

Except he had a gut feeling this thing between them was only going to get worse before it got better. If it ever did.

Nevertheless, that didn’t change the fact that he had to work with her. So until they solved this mystery of the missing souls and melting bodies, they had to keep it all business.

He was a civil man, with lots of self-control, wasn’t he? And honestly, how much worse could it really get between them?

Shut up before you jinx it. Tossing the blunt he’d just finished in the sink, he stretched his neck, still feeling the edges of his irritation even with the Sasha situation somewhat settled.

Deciding that what he needed was a good long run, he left his house quickly, and didn’t stop until he was outside and a good distance from his building. There, he allowed his Hellhound to take over.

The shift of muscles came quickly, faster than usual. He wasn’t shocked. Strong emotions made it harder to maintain the human facade they had perfected over the centuries. It caused them to crave the shift to Hellhound form until it was all they could think about. Sometimes they ended up shifting without even realizing it.

Back in the Underworld, most of their time had been spent in Hellhound form, their human side becoming uncomfortable to be in. Which was a dangerous thing; the more time spent in beast form, the greater the risk of losing yourself to the beast, of becoming a mindless creature.

Their father had nearly accomplished it, too, drilling it into them that their purpose in life was to kill for him and their kingdom. Erummon had wanted them to live and breathe only for the Underworld, making it clear that they were nothing but guard dogs, creatures made for death, and loyal only to him.

The bastard had been pretty fucking shocked when they’d walked out on him and his precious Underworld. And on two legs, no less.

Bones cracked and reset, muscles stretched and grew as the most agonizing and beautiful pain washed over him. It took less than two heartbeats, but it was enough to change his mood instantly. The euphoria that came with shifting always made his dick hard. It wasn’t so much sexual as it was his primal brain experiencing the pleasure of switching on and shoving the human thoughts back a pace. Though they were certainly not gone—only less in your face.

Being in Hellhound form was like changing into a pair of favorite jeans. It was a feeling of complete and utter relief, a contentment hard to express in words. Everything was less urgent. Nothing was as important as pack, or as running, playing, feeling the wind in your fur, and hunting prey.

Killing. Feasting.

When he was in his human skin, time was always ticking away and shoving him forward. There was always something or other that needed his attention yesterday. But as a Hellhound, time didn’t really exist.

He inhaled the night air, stretching and letting the wind ruffle his pelt for a moment. He imagined what he must look like to a bystander: an enormous wolf-like beast with short, glossy black fur. Paws the size of basketballs, with blue Hellfire flames licking up each leg, and a tail with sharp barbs on the tip, twitching to and fro.

His sharp black claws clicked against the concrete sidewalk as he took a few steps, testing his surroundings with all his senses. When he smelled nothing out of the ordinary, Razor let his instincts guide him and took off running.

As he passed streets and the people milling about them, he heard gasps. He tried to look as non-threatening as possible. Even made an effort to smile at them, realizing too late as people began paling in terror and scrambling out of his way, that in this form, his smile was coming off more like I’ll-murder-you-with-these-teeth-and-enjoy-it and less see-no-danger-here-I’m-just-a-big-softy-at-heart. Whoops. He stopped smiling.

Although it wasn’t rare to see one of them in Hellhound form walking the city, it still made some people uneasy. They might logically understand that the beast would turn human soon enough, but a seven-foot creature that could kill them with a swipe of its paw would always be dangerous.

He ran until he was at the back entrance of the Night House, relieved that it hadn’t yet opened to the public.

Sniffing the air, he caught the scents of his brothers. Night, Sin, and, surprisingly, Edge were all inside the club. Edge usually preferred to spend his time handing out assignments at the Assassin’s Guild rather than to hang out at Night’s. He wondered what had brought him out to the club tonight.

Sin, who ran what Night liked to refer to as the Hellhound Operational Techroom, or (cue eye roll) H.O.T for short, was more or less always at the club—just not upstairs in the main club areas. H.O.T was below ground, and housed all of Sin’s fancy tech toys.

It came as no surprise that Night was there. He lived and breathed the Night House.

He howled for his brothers, needing them tonight. Needing their heat at his side as he went on the run he so eagerly craved. His brothers weren’t just his pack—they were parts of his soul. They were one of the few things that Razor and his beast couldn’t live without.

The back door of the club crashed open. Edge prowled out, followed by Night, and then Sin. They caught sight of him, and their eyes went instantly Hellfire-blue before they shifted simultaneously.

Edge trotted up to him—his form the biggest of them all—and nipped at Razor’s snout. It was a silent question.

“I need to run,” Razor answered in his mind, knowing his brothers could hear him in theirs. Razor’s paws fidgeted anxiously.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Sin said with a relieved breath. “I thought someone had died with the doom and gloom you’ve got going on.”

“No deaths. Yet. But the night’s still young.”

Night moved smoothly around Sin and Edge, heading for Razor. His strides remained as urbane and measured as they were in his human skin.

He sniffed the air around Razor. “It’s a woman, isn’t it? You smell like the frustration only a woman can bring.”

“No.” Not a lie. But not entirely the truth, either.

“Who is she? What has she done that has you so edgy?”

“You going to run with me, or are you going to interrogate me, asshole?”

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

He bared his fangs at Night.

Night’s expression was incredulous. He turned to the others. “The whelp just fanged me.”

Sin and Edge rolled their eyes.

“Come on, spill. Who is she, little brother?” Night pressed.

“Night, let it go,” Sin warned.

“No, I want to know who is making our self-possessed, nothing-gets-my-panties-in-a-twist brother get his panties all twisty.”

He lunged for Night, but Sin side-tackled Razor and took him down before he could reach Night.

Night sat on his haunches. “That was way too easy.”

“Children,” Edge muttered mentally. When they didn’t immediately get up, Edge snarled at them in reprimand.

They all stopped glaring at each other.

He wanted to bite Night, but, unfortunately, Night was right. Razor had been too easily goaded. It was time to run.

Still, as he passed him, Razor bared his fangs at Night for being an asshole.

When they were all surrounding Edge, their brother howled up at the dark sky. As the most dominant, Edge would always lead them.

They howled back in unison. When Edge finally took off, they all moved as one, flanking him as they crashed into the forest.

Glowing turquoise eyes remained in the background of his mind during the entire run.