Hidden Crimes (16 page)

“I have business with your boss,” he
said.

Jonah’s growl lowered and drew out, the
animal sound seeming to issue from his chest. Real tigers made that
noise before they attacked.

“Wait,” Freda said when Evina moved forward
to intervene.

“I’m Evina’s friend,” Nate said, cool as a
cat himself. “You need to step aside for me.”

Jonah wasn’t in the mood for that. His
fireman’s arm, which was half again the size of Nate’s, crooked,
bunched, and delivered an uppercut straight to Nate’s
breadbasket.

At least, his fist would have landed there if
Nate hadn’t grabbed his wrist before it connected. Nate’s entire
body spun, the motion tight and controlled. He used Jonah’s weight
against him, one designer boot sweeping his feet out from under
while the momentum of his upper body twisted Jonah’s arm to an
awkward angle behind his back. When the smooth-as-a-dance move
finished—in milliseconds, it seemed to her—Jonah had been forced to
his knees, his face dripping sweat from the pain of his captured
arm. Because the firefighter was too proud to cry out, Evina had no
trouble hearing what Nate leaned down to say.

“Evina is your
alpha
, tiger. It’s not
your place to question who she wants to see.”

“Wow,” Freda said with a little purr. “When
you’re done tapping that, can I have a go at him?”

Though it was a joke, or at any rate
friendly, Evina had to fight back her own growl. Good Lord. Was she
really thinking of Nate as if he belonged to her?

Preferring not to answer that, Evina shoved
through her office door.

Nate must have sensed she was around already.
From what she understood, werewolf noses were sharper than tigers’.
Even so, her appearance seemed to take him by surprise. He looked
up and his head jerked back, his hold on Jonah slipping.

“Oh my God,” he said, “you’ve been shot!”

Jonah was halfway to taking advantage of his
lapse in attention when the genuine concern in Nate’s voice sank
in. Stopping so close to attacking forced him to catch his balance
on his freed arm.

“I’m okay,” Evina said, coming quickly down
the stairs. “It was a through-and-through.”

“A through-and-through!” He had her by the
forearms, his fingers rubbing gently as he clasped her above the
wrists. “Didn’t you change? Why are you still bleeding?”

“Of course I did. The bullet was
electrum-plated.”

Electrum plating was a relatively inexpensive
method for rendering ammo more effective against beings like
shifters. Injuries caused by it were slower to heal. Evina had been
feeling grateful the shooter had been too cheap to buy a full metal
jacket. Nate, apparently, didn’t see it that way.

“Oh my God,” he repeated, his voice spiking
high enough to crack.

Sitting on the floor now, Jonah began to
laugh. “Man,” he said, “I’d feel sorry for you if you hadn’t nearly
broke my arm. Wolf-boy’s got cat-scratch fever bad.”

“Jesus,” Evina swore, horrified at him.

“Sorry, boss.” Jonah creaked to his feet,
where he rubbed his elbow and winced. “Shit. I got to ice this
thing.”

Freda had by this time finished sauntering
down the open stairs, looking sexier in her dark blue EMT shirt and
trousers than any woman had a right to. She smiled knowingly at
Evina. “Since you seem to be in good hands, I’ll be going. Nice
meeting
you
, Mr. Dark and Lethal.”

Nate wrenched his worried gaze from Evina’s.
“Uh,” he said to Freda, not his usual style at all.

Freda laughed. “No driving until tomorrow,”
she tossed over her shoulder to Evina. Grumpily, Evina noticed her
walk exhibited more wiggle than usual.

Nate mostly seemed confused as he watched her
go.

“She’s a friend,” Evina sighed. “And, yes,
she’s available.”

“What?” Nate turned back to her. Evina didn’t
feel like repeating her answer. His eyes cleared after a moment of
gazing into hers. “She said no driving. Do you need a ride
home?”

“Actually . . . I could use a ride to St.
Aelfryd’s. I want to check in on Christophe.”

Nate’s warm hands were wrapped lightly around
hers. How long had he been holding them, and why did they feel so
good? “I can drive you.”

“I might be a little while. If you drop me, I
can take a cab home from there.”

“I don’t have plans. I’ll browse the gift
shop while you visit.”

His irises were starting to glow a little,
turning their coffee color gold. Evina’s breathing deepened against
her will. Watching him fight had done a number on her libido. She
couldn’t forget how quick he’d been . . . The way he moved to take
his bigger opponent down . . . She knew her pupils were expanding
with arousal, because the room was suddenly brighter. Nate wet his
fascinating lips, his nostrils flaring like hers were.

“How did you get shot?” he asked, his voice a
caress trailing down her spine.

“Some teenager got caught holding up a
convenience store. Decided the best way to evade the police was to
set the Quik-Mart on fire. He’d trapped himself in the back by the
time we got there.”

“Did you get him out?”

“We got everyone out. Owner. Customers. Even
a pet lizard.” Remembering, Evina broke into a grin.

“A good day then. Despite being shot.”

Oh, Nate got it, maybe as much as her fellow
firefighters. Her body grew even warmer, positively aching to let
that powerful cock of his shove in it. She could practically feel
him thumping her body into the nearest wall.

“Nate,” she said, soft as smoke.

Her tone was too bed-friendly, considering
where they were. Realizing this, Nate cleared his throat and
stepped back. He released her hands grudgingly. “I’ll bring the car
around. You—” He paused to look at her, more fire kindling in his
eyes. “Just grab whatever you want to bring with you.”

Right that moment, the main thing she wanted
to grab was him.

~

The gift shop at St. Aelfryd’s Hospital held
the usual flowers, magazines, and baby-strength amulets for
invoking deities. Heavy duty magic was left to the elfin and human
healers who ran the place. Nate bought an imported copy of the
Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition
. The Outsider
publication was popular here. Then, unaccountably restless, he
followed his nose to find Evina in Christophe’s room.

He wasn’t trying to rush her. He simply
didn’t have the patience to sit in a waiting room.

When he caught up to her, Evina sat by
Christophe’s bed, the steel and vinyl chair crowded close to him.
Her senior man was yet another huge tiger—older than the others
Nate had met, though that was hard to tell. The cat was in bad
shape. The parts of him that weren’t wrapped up like a mummy looked
red and raw. Clearly, he wasn’t healing the way a shifter should.
Evina had told Nate the doctors were trying to adjust his pain
medication. Too much and he’d be too doped up to change. Too little
and his physical distress would interfere. Right then, they seemed
to have underdone it. Christophe was hurting enough that he shook
with a fine tremor.

Nate totally understood why Evina was
crooning to him and gently stroking the unburned bend of his right
arm. Her touch wasn’t as soothing as it should have been.
Christophe’s brow remained puckered, and Nate got the impression
worry was partly responsible. He and Evina looked around when Nate
stopped at the doorway.

“Hey, man,” he said. “Sorry to interrupt.” He
held up the
Sports Illustrated
. “Thought you might like a
magazine.”

In spite of his discomfort, a naughty smile
stretched Christophe’s face. When he spoke, his voice was
smoke-roughened. “You must be the dirty dog the other guys were
griping about.”

“Ah.” Nate scratched the side of his mouth.
“I suppose tigers gossip as much as wolves.”

“Sometimes we gossip, and sometimes we stick
our noses in the air like we’re above noticing.”

Nate laughed, but then Christophe coughed,
the movement evidently painful inside and out. Nate rushed forward
to the other side of the bed to help Evina steady him.

“Fuck,” Christophe gasped when the fit was
over. “This seriously sucks.”

“Just hang in there,” Evina said. “The
doctors say your body is bound to shift before much longer. Your
tiger half wouldn’t let lasting harm come to you.”

“From your mouth . . . to the ear of the
Tiger Queen,” Christophe said, almost too tired to speak.

A nurse came in: a young gold elf with a
serious face. “You should probably let him rest now. The doctors
are making the rounds with sleep charms.”

Nate and Evina helped Christophe sink back
into the pillows. Seeing how weak he was, an odd sensation ran
through Nate, an almost physical tug to take action. Though this
man was a stranger, it was as if something inside Nate
needed
to assist him. He let go of Christophe’s arm with an
effort.

Evina bent to her beta, pressing her lips to
a safe spot on his temple. “Rest up, partner. We miss you at the
station.”

“Not . . . as much as I miss . . . being
there.” Christophe looked at Nate, his gaze measuring. Careful not
to set off another cough, he pulled in a steadying breath. “Don’t
be a dog to her.”

Nate could have turned the warning into a
joke. Instead, he met Christophe’s stare head on. “I won’t. Not if
there’s any way to avoid it.”

Christophe nodded and closed his eyes. The
nurse shooed them out into the hall. The shutting of the door left
them together in silence. Evina looked at her feet with her hands
shoved into her pockets, mute testimony to her worry over her
crewmember’s condition. It was an alpha’s nature to want to aid her
people, the attribute as much instinct as basic shifter decency.
Nate knew she couldn’t like feeling helpless. He gave her shoulder
a little rub.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you home.”

He drove her to her townhouse, a touch of
that same helplessness chafing him. Evina was a good person. How
could it be wrong for him to admire her the way he did?

He pulled into a parking spot by the curb,
tempted to shut off his Goblinati’s engine but wondering if this
was presumptuous.

He turned to her on his seat as she turned to
him. It seemed a sign that he ought to speak. He cupped her ear
with one hand, his thumb stroking a path around it as if he’d been
touching her all his life. Evina smiled at him. His cock tightened
and grew hot. The mist was thicker in her neighborhood, like a fog
machine had been turned on.

“How’s the arm?” he asked, noting she’d
stopped poking it to test.

“I think it’s healed now. I hate having the
kids see me hurt.”

Nate hadn’t liked it much himself. “Do you
get hurt often?”

“Firemen aren’t hotshots,” she said with a
smile to suggest maybe she thought cops were. “Despite being
shifters, we always try to work safe. We use our protective gear,
and we keep up with the latest techniques. What happened to me
today . . . what happened to Christophe . . . is unusual.”

He nodded, unsettled by his own relief at her
reassurance. Part of him wished she’d never be in the thick of
things. She was a gifted astral projector. She could have stuck to
that. But no alpha could command respect from her crew if she
didn’t share the same dangers. That’s how it worked with wolves
anyway. Adam didn’t molder behind a desk.

“So,” Evina said, starting to reach for her
door handle. He couldn’t just let her go, not with what he was
feeling.

“I want to come in,” he said.

“My mother’s watching the twins.”

“I like your mother.”

Evina laughed, kneeling up and leaning
forward to drop a kiss on his nose. “Wait here. I’ll check if the
twins are in bed and report back to you.”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting them as well.”

He hadn’t planned to say that. Evina’s
eyebrows rose. He set his jaw and didn’t retract the statement,
though he wasn’t certain what he’d meant to imply. Evina didn’t
seem prepared to ask. She cocked her head but didn’t press him to
explain.

“Wait,” she repeated, swinging out of the
car. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

~

Evina tried to recall if a man had stirred
Nate’s mix of perplexity and attraction in her before. Everyone
liked her mother, so that claim was no surprise. Him wanting to
meet her kids, however, knocked her off balance. He’d be good with
kids, she was sure. He could charm anyone, young or old. She just
wouldn’t have expected her grocery store Romeo to be into the
idea.

Of course, she also wouldn’t have predicted
she’d go warm and gooey at his interest. Whatever he’d meant, that
couldn’t be smart.

The house was in a state inside. Rita was
great about babysitting, but she drew the line at tidying up. Evina
found her perusing
Magical Antiques Monthly
in the den,
probably imagining what she’d like to buy for her shop. Seeming
tired, Rita took the back way out, across the development’s shared
stretch of grass to her own townhome. Quickly disposing of her
bandage, Evina stuck her head in each twin’s room. They were sound
asleep. Abby sprawled in her bed face down, while Rafi curled up in
his cat roost—in boy form, thank goodness.

Because there was too much mess to tackle
without a backhoe, Evina shook her head, sighed, and went to wave
for Nate to come in. She consoled herself that at least the lights
were off.

“Sorry about the tornado,” she said as he
looked around.

“These things happen,” he said
diplomatically.

Evina had to chuckle.

“What?” he asked, following her up the narrow
toy-cluttered stairs.

“Well, ‘these things’ don’t happen at your
place, do they?”

“A little mess is homey,” he said, his night
vision sharp enough to spare him tripping over Elf Barbie’s Dream
Garage.