typically think of a cat. Maybe a dog. But none of them can manage to pounce quite as well as a horny male werehyena.
Â
It took us nearly forty-five minutes to get out of the house, partly because Raphael had jumped me and partly because I had lingered. I lay next to him, wrapped in his arms, and tried to sort it out, and all the while my brain feverishly pulled apart my emotions, the secret creature inside me purred and snuggled up to Raphael, blissful in her simple happiness.
Raphael went all out: black jeans, black T-shirt, black jacket, enough knives to fight off a gaggle of ninjas. At least he didnât wear leather, or we wouldâve caused a slew of traffic accidents.
He had also called his mother. During his life, Alex Doulos was a Greek pagan, and he did worship Hades. Aunt B didnât know the particulars. Raphael didnât mention that her mateâs shade was trapped behind a ward by some sort of necromancer. We both agreed that she could be spared that knowledge.
âWhatâs bothering you?â Raphael asked, as I slid the Jeep into traffic. The magic had dropped again during the night. At least we could speak without yelling over the roar of the water engine. âWas the morning not good for you?â
He was worried. If he knew how completely heâd blown my socks off, his head would swell to twice its normal size. I tried my best not to laugh. âSex, itâs what for breakfast.â
âSeriously?â
âIt was great.â The best I ever had, but he didnât need to know that. âCouldnât you tell?â
âYou never know. Women are more complicated.â He shook his head. âIf not that, then what is it? You have that pinched look on your face.â
âArenât men supposed to be bad about reading womenâs faces?â
Raphael sighed. âNot when they are reading the face of a woman theyâve obsessed over for the last six months. Tell me.â
I didnât say anything. He would think less of me if I did.
âThis is one of my hang-ups,â he said. âIâll keep asking you whatâs wrong until you tell me.â
Fair enough. âIâm a professional,â I said. âI went through the training, got knighted, the whole thing. I have decorations for meritorious service. But I have to rely on Kate to get the People to talk to me. It bothers me.â
He waited for more.
âBack in Texas, my partner and I took out a group of loups. My partner caught Lyc-V and went loup. I killed her. The Order tested me, but I got the all clear.â
âHow did you manage that? The virus is in your blood.â
âI had a silver ring implanted under my skin in my arm just below the armpit. It pinched off my blood supply and then I shot liquid silver into my veins. It killed the virus. I cut my wrist to bleed out the dead virus cells, and the ring kept Lyc-V from the rest of my body from entering my arm.â The mere memory made me want to curl in pain.
âThat was insanely dangerous. You couldâve lost your arm.â
âI almost did. But the blood work came back clear, and the amulet in my skull, the one you pulled out during the flare, kept my magic from leaking into an m-scan. I was given a clean slate, but they still shipped me off to Atlanta. Ted Monahan, the knight-protector, put me on the back burner. Before coming here, I was on the way to becoming Master-at-Arms, Firearm.â
Raphael nodded. âI take it thatâs a big deal.â
âVery. I had all of my security briefings, passed all of the tests. All that remains is the formal nomination from my chapterâs knight-protector. But Ted will never do it.â
âWhy not?â
âBecause he senses there is something wrong with me. He isnât sure what, and until he figures it out, Iâm the only knight without any active cases. I donât even have an office.â
Raphaelâs jaw took on a
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