Page 13 of Last But Not Leashed

I eyed the bed, wondering if I could cram myself beneath it. Cursing my eight hundred pounds of bulk and muscle, I redirected my gaze to the door and contemplated staging an escape.

As though sensing my intentions, Ethel sat on my back. “I’m sure I can. Thank you for bringing his clothes over. Do you two have any other unasked for advice?”

“Feed him and send him home tonight so he can relax in his territory,” Jerome replied.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please do.” Jerome hopped to his feet. “Oh, and Ethel?”

“What?”

“Don’t worry about Dana. She has more issues than National Geographic, but she does mean well. She just feels guilty she jumped on Pete and dumped Dale like he had the plague. Pete had his first-shift flare, which attracted her. Now she tries to be all politically correct around Dale, and it annoys the pack because she upsets him every single time. He’s sensitive.”

“Dana had her chance with him. She’s got plenty of puppies to worry about, so she can keep her attention away from him,” Ethel snarled.

“Please don’t put Dana in her place, however much she deserves it. It’ll upset Mr. Sensitive, and when he’s upset, the entire pack gets riled up. Honestly, our pack is so damned stable because we don’t want to upset him. Had I known Mr. Sensitive’s issues stemmed from the color of his fur, I would’ve done something about it already.”

I growled at Jerome, earning another swat to the snout.

“If you say dye, I’ll hit you.”

I liked the idea of Ethel smacking Jerome around enough I pricked my ears forward and held my breath.

“No, we won’t dye him. We’ll be more aggressive about him coming out to play as a wolf, though. We’ll also push harder to get him to hunt with us. On our next hunt, I’m expecting you to come with us. We can bring you into our pack sometime in the next few days, too. No more of your lone wolf whining nonsense. Dale won’t be able to handle you being outside of the pack if you’re seriously pursuing him. That should get him moving in the right direction.”

“How about your pack join me for a hunt for the lycanthrope who attacked Mr. Jones? He’s consented to a transfusion of his future-mate’s blood; fortunately for them, they’re the same blood type. It should ensure he contracts her virus instead of his attacker’s. But we can’t let this lycanthrope hunt people. My boss believes Dale fits the profile, so he’ll be working the mall, and it’s my job to make sure there’s a team watching Dale and is ready for the pickup if this lycanthrope shows up.”

I wasn’t looking forward to the foreseeable future, although there were perks, including close proximity with the woman I desired as much as my virus did. I listened, tense beneath her, waiting for Jerome to decide what to do.

“We’re in. I’ll ask around the pack and see about setting up a shift to keep an eye on him. Some rogue lycanthrope taking off with one of my betas would make me the laughingstock of the entire state.”

“Good. I’ll talk with my boss and put together a compensation package. We might be able to arrange contractors to cover shifts, too. The attack on Dale is being viewed as a direct consequence of the attack on Mr. Jones, so it’s under CDC jurisdiction. The pack, which lives a few towns over, is responsible for paying for the neutralizer we used, but they’re on a payment plan.”

Jerome grimaced. “Ouch. How much is that going to ding them?”

“We dumped ten thousand down the drain making sure no one contracted Dale’s virus. They have a twenty-member pack, so it works out to a reasonable amount per person. It’s a token slap, but the boss thought it was necessary to remind them they really shouldn’t go hunting other lycanthropes and putting the public at general risk. It was her second shift as a hybrid, but her virus levels aren’t anywhere near as high as Dale’s.”

“All right. After we take care of this situation, we’ll do a proper pack hunt, and I’m expecting you to bring Dale out in a fur coat. I don’t care which version of his fur coat, but there will be no getting out of it or tagging along as a human anymore. Understood?”

“I hate you sometimes.”

Ethel scratched me behind my ears. “It’s okay. I’ll protect you.”

Jerome cackled. “Someone has to protect you, Dale. You fight like shit—and we’ll be addressing that problem starting on Friday morning before you go to work. You got your ass handed to you.”

Damn it. “It’s not like I get into many fights as a wolf.”

“You don’t get into any fights, period. You need to be able to protect yourself. We aren’t going to be able to hide you have access to the hybrid form for long, and that means you need to handle whatever anyone tosses your way. Friday morning at six. Go ahead and try to run. That’ll make this even more fun for me.”

Chapter Four

Ethel seemed more than ready to stake her claim on me in a very permanent and intimate way, but I had a mile-long list of things I needed to do first. In another rare show of solidarity, my virus agreed with me.

Miracles could happen—or my virus recognized I meant to accept her claim, but I’d do so under my own terms. Before I accepted everything she offered, I needed a proper home, one capable of handling two lycanthropes at their worst. I expected once I unleashed my virus and allowed her to do whatever she wanted with me, we’d cause a great deal of property damage. I doubted my apartment or her trailer would survive our enthusiasm.

The virus came with many benefits, and endurance topped most lists.

If we trashed the home I offered, repairing it would keep me busy and help contain the other problems associated with being infected with the virus. Despite Jerome’s teasing, I understood relationships took two, and while the virus would ensure loyalty to each other, it didn’t necessarily make for a happy home.