I said it. I meant it. Too bad I was dealing with a pair of hothead Alpha males who hated each other.
Danny backed away, tripping over the steps in his haste to reach the front door. He swung it open, yelling at the top of his lungs, “Bren, Bren. Get out here. We got trouble!”
A deep voice called from inside, “Keep your panties on, Dan, I’m coming.” Bren sauntered down the steps barefoot, wearing a stained white T-shirt and black basketball shorts. Potato chip flakes stuck to his dark, scruffy beard as he munched. As a lone wolf, he and Aric weren’t exactly pals, but his dislike of vampires made him take a position on Aric’s other side. He shoved his hand into the Lay’s bag tucked under his arm and reached for more salty goodness. “Hey, Ceel,” he said between bites. His laid-back disposition suggested indifference, but in the end, lone or not, Bren was very much a werewolf. His beast nature would attack if provoked, and so would the loyal friend within if the vampires threatened my safety.
Misha’s long blond hair draped against his high cheekbones, eclipsing his already hard stare. “Where were you today, Celia?”
“She was with me,” Aric answered.
Misha continued to watch me, which was very much a good thing. Treaty or not, had he met Aric’s glare, his wolf would interpret it as a challenge and I’d spend the next week scrubbing fur and blood off my walkway. Misha’s tone hardened, not a good thing considering that it hadn’t started as cheery to begin with. “Then why did I sense her distress?”
Aric leaned back on his heels. “How did you—?”
It probably took every last bit of control Aric had to hold back his beast when Misha snatched my right wrist. He held it in the air while the middle finger of his opposite hand traced a line down my forearm. “I gave Celia the ability to call me.”
Aric turned his glare from Misha to me. Oh, goody. “He gave you his call?”
He wasn’t really asking. He was more telling me he didn’t like—no, he despised—what I’d allowed Misha to do. I jerked my hand away from Misha as if he’d taken a bite. “I, ah . . .” I looked to Bren and Danny, unsure how to respond. Bren, good ol’ Bren, choked on his chips with how hard he laughed. I failed to see the humor. Especially then.
My eyes narrowed at Misha, certain he’d somehow screwed me. When he’d first given me his supernatural digits, he’d said, “Should you ever need me, call my name and I shall thunder through hell itself to reach you.” At the time, I considered it a generous offer. Now, not so much. There was no thundering through hell, just a lot of gloating. And judging by how Aric’s heart pounded like a racing Thoroughbred, I started to believe I should have asked for a gift card instead. “Um” remained my only response.
Misha flashed his famously wicked smile. “What troubles you, mongrel? It’s my understanding Tahoe’s head witch passed you her call.”
My jaw fell hard enough to scrape against the sidewalk. Genevieve, Tahoe’s head witch, was supermodel stunning. We’re talking waist-length ebony hair that cradled perfect and perky breasts, large blue eyes, fair skin that had never seen a zit, full luscious lips, and a magical whoop-ass staff capable of turning weregorillas into krill. Genevieve was smart, powerful, tall, wealthy—and did I mention stunning?
I crossed my arms, this time, my turn to raise an eyebrow. At Aric. “Did she, now?”
Aric didn’t blink. “Our relationship is strictly business.”
“Your relationship? Oh. I’ll. Just. Bet.”
Slapping Aric across the face with a dead fish wouldn’t have earned me the same expression of shocked confusion. “Why, are you jealous?”
Agnes Concepción whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry, Celia. I’m sure some males find small boobs attractive.”
“Just because my boobs aren’t man-made doesn’t mean they’re small,” I growled back. I ignored her, Bren’s snorts, and even Aric to address Misha. “Just so you know, we encountered demon children today.”
A small gust of wind spun bits of leaves in the air. Other than that subtle sound, silence ruled my front steps. The Catholic schoolgirls straightened in their neck-breaking shoes. Despite their perpetually petty demeanors, they weren’t fools. Some things you just didn’t laugh at. Misha raised his chin. “Demon children.”
I clenched my fists. “Was this what you were talking about last night?” The strain that immediately formed in the small space between Aric and me told me he figured out I’d spent time with Misha, and that the knowledge didn’t please him. I kicked myself on the inside. It’s not that I intended to lie to him. But I did want to spare his feelings. Still, we had more pressing matters. I met Misha’s stare. “Look, Misha. I know you don’t want to think about what’s coming. But it seems like it’s already here. I’d appreciate it if you would help us out.”