For Your Paws Only (Supernatural Enforcers Agency #2) Read online

  The snake shifter let out a put-on sigh. “Then why don’t you do so, Harv, instead of wasting my time?”

  Harvey looked at him hesitantly but ultimately backed down under the snake shifter’s unrelenting stare. “But if evidence were found of wrongdoing on Cutter’s part…”

  “There won’t be!” spat Cutter. The fucker was accusing him of being involved with two murders! How dare he!

  “Then naturally he would be suspended and Internal Investigations would be privy to the case,” replied the Director evenly.

  Harvey looked like he wanted to argue the point further, but the Director started making noises about being busy and threw in a couple of pointed comments that Harvey also had work to do.

  The wolf shifter huffed and puffed until eventually he threw out the word ‘fine’ with all the grace of a three-year-old who had been told that they couldn’t have ice-cream until they ate all their broccoli. He stomped out the door only stopping to throw Cutter a contemptuous look.

  After he was gone, the Director trained a cold, searching look at Cutter. “Do you have any idea what brought Clayton to Los Lobos? Or whether his murder is linked to the death of Marie Beauchamp?”

  Cutter’s wolf started to growl. Hadn’t they already been through this already? But Cutter quelled him. The Director at least was giving him the benefit of the doubt, not something he would get from many other agents.

  “I have no idea what Clayton was doing,” he admitted, sadly thinking of his late friend. “We didn’t talk much. But, if I had to guess, I would say he was investigating his old unsolved cases. He didn’t let things go very easily, and given that he had so much free time…”

  “I thought the Maroni case was solved. Nicolas Maroni is in prison.”

  “He is, but we never caught Maroni’s mole. He had someone within the SEA on the take and we never found out who.”

  Someone who had caused the death of over dozen SEA agents. Someone who thought that their lives were worth less than a few kickbacks from Maroni. The thought of it made Cutter sick and madder than holy hell at the same time. Three years hadn’t dimmed his rage over the matter. Cutter had come out the other side of the case battered and beaten, but his pain was nothing compared to witnessing the suffering the mole’s actions had caused over a dozen families. He pushed his claws into the palms of his hands to try and maintain a modicum of control.

  “Yes I heard about that,” said the snake shifter, almost apologetically. “I also heard a rumor that II thought it was you.”

  Cutter barked out a mirthless laugh as his wolf snapped his jaws. “Not II, it was my best friend, Harv – and him alone - who thought I was the mole. I’ll bet he still does in spite of what happened to me on that case.”

  The Director cocked his head on one side and almost gave him a look of amusement. “Is that why Harv dislikes you so much?”

  He pursed his lips. “No, he didn’t like me before that.”

  “Your winning personality strikes again,” murmured the snake before rolling his eyes. “For now, I’ll keep our pal Harv at bay, just watch your back with him. I don’t like to speak ill of other agents, but he has a malicious streak and you need to be careful.”

  “Can’t I…”

  “No!”

  “You don’t know what I was going to say,” grouched Cutter.

  “You were going to ask to help with the case.” The Director paused, waiting to see if Cutter would deny it, but he didn’t. “Just continue with your case, and help Diaz out when he needs it.”

  The retort that Diaz needed all the help he could get nearly rolled off his tongue, but he stopped himself. His wolf huffed at him, but being diplomatic – for once in his life – wasn’t going to hurt him. Well, not by much anyway. Maybe he could run up to the rooftop and yell all the bad things he wanted to say into the sky. It might make him feel better, not as better as punching Harvey and telling Diaz he was a complete tool to his face would, but still, better.

  “Okay,” acquiesced Cutter, in a very grudging manner.

  “You’re not the only one who liked Clayton, you know?” The snake shifter took on an almost wistful expression. “Like you, in spite of his personality quirks, he was a good agent and he deserved better than to be murdered in some flea-ridden motel. I hope this can all be resolved quickly so he can be given a decent burial. By the way, do you have any idea about what funeral arrangements he wanted? Apparently his will just donated everything he had to the local animal shelter.”

  Cutter smirked. “He once told me he didn’t care where he was buried, but he wanted to be buried face down.”

  “Why?”

  “So everyone could continue kissing his ass even in death.”

  The Director blinked for a few seconds before letting out an uncharacteristic guffaw of laughter. “Yeah, that sounds like Clayton.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lucie watched Cutter like a hawk. Or at least like a stalker who was trying to act nonchalant and not let on like she was actually stalking someone. So, yeah, like a hawk. She tracked his every move around the busy bar while keeping one ear out for the conversation her friends were having. Isis was telling them about her date with the panda she picked up the other night. Isis’ stories were never boring; the tigress tended to have some strange ideas about what made dates fun. But as much fun as the stories were, she was more concerned about Cutter, so, every now and then Lucie interjected an ‘oh, that is unbelievable’ or a ‘crimeny’ and she was golden.

  She was a little put out that Cutter hadn’t been trying to contact her to explain what happened that morning – with the peacock shifter. Her hedgehog huffed at her, and Lucie sighed. Okay, so he had tried, and Lucie had run away from him like a lily-livered little hedgehog, but did he really have to give up so easily? Not that he had anything to apologize for; he was technically single, footloose and fancy-free, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, she’d been having the same arguments with herself throughout the day.

  That wasn’t important at that moment, anyway. No, at that moment she purely acting as one professional to another and affording him the same courtesy she would expect from him. She was warning him that his so-called friends were out to get him. Ooh, she should have made Diaz’s physical more punishing; if she had known that he would turn around and do this to her sort-of – in her wild dreams - honey bunny, then she would have let Helga do his physical, too.

  She perked up as she saw him disengaging from his friends and moving away on his own. She felt like a predator after her prey. She mumbled that she was going to the bathroom and dashed after him. The predatory hedgehog sights her prey; he has moved away from his herd and is making his way to the bathroom. The hedgehog moves in for the kill.

  Cutter turned round abruptly before she could tap him on the shoulder, sending a deep flush from her nose right down to her toes.

  “Lucie,” he breathed, almost sensually as his green eyes clouded stormy amber.

  Nut bunnies! His deep voice was like the most decadent chocolate. She wanted to eat him up…

  “I need to talk to you,” they both said at the same time.

  “Me first,” he demanded.

  She let out a squeak of annoyance that made his lips curl upwards. “Ladies first,” she corrected him.

  He harrumphed. “What I have to say is important, it’s about this morning…”

  Lucie felt a pang of worry and held up her hand to stop him. What if he was confessing to being in love with the peacock? What if they were getting married? What if she was pregnant with his pup?! Lucie was far too sober to deal with any revelations about his interlude with the peacock. No, she was all for ignoring what she stumbled on that morning, but how could she do that if he didn’t stop yapping about it?

  “It’s fine, you don’t have to explain,” she told him dismissively, ignoring her prickly inner animal who definitely begged to differ.

  His forehead creased, and he folded his big, muscled arms over his impressive chest. Lucie told herself over
and over not to swoon. She placed one of her small hands on his arm; the paleness of her creamy pink skin contrasted beautifully to the dark brown of his own.

  “I’m worried about you,” she admitted, making her eyes look as big as possible. Her ex-husband had once said she had freakishly big eyes and he couldn’t deny her anything when she gave him that pleading, innocent look. They were still good friends and his inability to deny her anything hounded him to that day.

  Cutter sucked in a breath, and she scented the increase in his arousal. Her eyes flicked down and yep, the evidence of his arousal was there for all to see. Inch, after inch, after inch… and so on. She blushed at her thoughts. Maybe she should have done his physical, after all, at the very least she might have got a glimpse of what Cutter was only just managing to hide in his pants.

  Lucie quickly shook her head as she caught Cutter’s smirk before his gaze landed on her heaving bosom. He must have guessed at what she was thinking and undoubtedly he could scent her overwhelming arousal. Well, it had been a long year where the only sexual company she had ran on batteries, it was getting to the point where just a look from Cutter set her on fire. But that was no excuse - she had to focus.

  “You need to be careful,” she said in a high, strangled voice.

  Perhaps trying to dim his own arousal, Cutter cleared his throat, and he looked away from her breasts. “Look, that girl,” he started.

  “Holy mackerel, I mean at work,” she snapped impatiently. Did the idiot think she was trying to give him dating advice or something? Yes, her advice would be: don’t run around with jailbait, trampy peacocks and date her instead! A sentiment her hedgehog would love to have voiced.

  Lucie darted her eyes around the darkened corridor to make sure no one they knew was around. She leaned towards him, and he did the same. “Diaz is really suspicious of you.”

  Cutter threw back his head and let out a guttural laugh.

  “It’s not funny,” she said, grumpily.

  He calmed and leaned toward her again, faintly sniffing her hair. “Diaz couldn’t find chocolate at Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory.”

  Lucie giggled at the unexpected reference. She couldn’t imagine Cutter ever reading the book or watching the film of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She had always assumed he was born a badass and grew up worshiping at the altar of Die Hard. “Willy Wonka?”

  His lip curled up. “I was going to say something else, but didn’t think you’d appreciate it. I heard Erin say that Willy Wonka thing once and I had her explain it to me.”

  “What were you going to say?” she asked curiously.

  Cutter leered at her. “I was going to say he couldn’t find a whore’s clit if she laid back and gave him directions.”

  Lucie pouted her lips in distaste. “Sorry, I asked. But we’re getting away from the point – you need to watch your back.”

  “I haven’t done anything wrong,” he said firmly.

  He was trying to hide it, but she caught the frustration in his eyes.

  “I know,” she said soothingly and rubbed her fingers over his arm. She felt gratified when he smiled slightly. “But I don’t want your reputation ruined by their untrue accusations.”

  “I reckon my reputation, such as it is, will be fine. Diaz couldn’t… ah… work his way through a crossword puzzle. Was that better?”

  Lucie tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. “Better than the, uh, other one, that’s for sure.”

  Cutter’s good mood seemed to evaporate as quickly as it came, and he returned to his usual, grumpy state. “What are you doing here tonight, anyway? Why are you encouraging that creep?”

  Lucie stared at him, puzzled by the sudden venom in his tone. Was that jealousy he was throwing her way? “Do you mean Rick?” she asked, hesitantly.

  The tightening of his jaw told her that Rick was indeed the creep he was referring to. He seemed to be ignoring the fact that before pursuing him on his way to the bathroom, she was actually surrounded by Isis, Jessie, Avery, Rick and a turtle shifter from tech who was mooning over Jessie - Lucie couldn’t remember his name. It’s not like she was out on a date with Rick, he just happened to have showed up and joined them. She was a little miffed by his attitude, and even more so by her hedgehog who welcomed it.

  She put on her haughtiest pout. “Like you, I’m out for a drink with work colleagues.”

  “My work colleagues don’t want to fuck me,” he told her brutally.

  Lucie prickled. “You don’t know that for certain.”

  Cutter snorted and glowered at her. “Yeah, I’m sure Wayne is just waiting for his chance to get into my panties.”

  “You don’t wear panties,” she murmured. She knew for a fact that he went commando. It was something that she had thought about over and over ever since she found out.

  He raised his eyebrows in surprise and Lucie quickly continued. She didn’t really want to explain how she knew that. “Rick is just being nice.” Although, she didn’t say it with much conviction.

  “Men aren’t nice,” he grunted.

  “You’re not nice,” she countered petulantly. No, he was a big, bad, sexy wolf. Lucie gave herself a mental slap.

  “You’re not serious about dating him, are you?” he demanded, angrily.

  A part of her – the insipid hedgehog part – wanted to jump up and down, allaying his fears and shouting no, no, no! While the part that had a backbone was irritated that he thought it was okay to run around with a young – very young – bird shifter and then chastise her for even considering dating a very appropriate doctor.

  In the end, the two extreme reactions met in the middle, and Lucie replied on an even keel, “Nothing has happened with Rick.”

  Cutter gave her a pained and vulnerable look. “You once said you’d wait for me forever.”

  She gasped. “You told me not to.” Why would he bring that up?

  His lips twitched as he fought a smile. “Since when do you listen to what I say?”

  “Since when do you care?” she replied sassily, snatching her hand away from his arm.

  “So you are planning on dating him?” His body was riddled with tension, and his eyes had turned completely amber.

  “I’m not planning anything. Maybe I just realized you weren’t worth mooning over.” Lies, all lies, her hedgehog screamed.

  “I’m not,” he said, tersely.

  Lucie almost waved a white flag in defeat. It was a battle just trying to figure him out. “So then I’ll just leave you be. I’ve told you my worries; my conscience is clear – I can go.”

  She turned to leave. “I’m sorry you had to see that this morning,” he called after her.

  Her heart raced, and her hedgehog mewled as she dashed back into the bar, not daring to respond. Did he really care if he hurt her? And why was he suddenly all jealous about another guy showing interest in her? A few other guys had asked her out over the last year – there was the reindeer from tactical, the wombat from tech – but she had given them their marching orders, and for some reason they actively avoided her now. In fact, they looked scared and ran in the other direction whenever they saw her. Their reactions seemed a little strange, but she didn’t dwell on them. But the point was, Cutter never seemed to care about them so why was he getting all bent out of shape about Rick?

  She slipped back into her seat and grimaced as she took a sip of her sex on the beach cocktail. She was not letting Isis choose her drink ever again. Rick smiled at her, but no one else seemed to notice her absence, or her sweaty palms and undoubtedly flushed countenance.

  To her shock, Cutter strode toward their table and actually joined them. Isis scowled at him as he nudged her out of the way to make room for himself, but that didn’t stop her complaining diatribe. No one else seemed to take any notice of him, or thought it was odd that he was there.

  Cutter gave her a searching look, and she looked away, biting her lip and wishing to become invisible. What wouldn't she have given for this attention
yesterday?

  She was surprised to see that Rick was eyeing Cutter with distaste. She knew that Cutter didn’t like Rick – because of his asinine jealousy, which was completely at odds with his previous actions – but she didn’t know the feeling was mutual. She knew they’d met, she just didn’t realize they had managed to dislike each other so quickly.

  Cutter wrenched his gaze away from her and focused a belligerent expression on the lion shifter. “So, Doc, why’d you want to become a medical examiner?”

  Rick raised an eyebrow in amusement, which definitely didn’t help Cutter’s mood improve any. “I’ve always been interested in diagnostic medicine and…”

  “Isn’t that for the living,” jeered Cutter.

  The lion shifter narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, and the smile on his face was obviously false. The others around the table sensed the heightened tension between the two males and immediately dropped their own conversations to listen.

  “Well, yes, that is correct, but as I was going to say, I enjoy the puzzle of finding out how people died. It’s not something everyone can do.”

  Cutter pretended to ponder that. “So it doesn’t bother you how creepy it is hanging around dead bodies all day?”

  “Creepy?” repeated Rick, softly. “No creepier than going to a crime scene and looking at the dead body before trawling through victims' personal belongings.”

  The wolf shifter huffed. “Our last medical examiner started cutting people up and selling their organs.”

  “Yeah, he was creepy,” agreed Avery, shuddering. “He kept asking me out on dates to go and look at his silent film archives – to this day I have no idea whether that was some kind of weird euphemism.”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Isis. “He invited me to the museum of medical oddities – barf to that.”

  “And me,” piped up Jessie, “he wanted me to go the aquarium with him. Which I guess was kind of normal in comparison.”

  Lucie frowned. “He never asked me out; he looked down on me because I was a nurse – he thought he could do better than me.”