Page 14 of Last But Not Leashed

I wanted it all, and I wasn’t going to ruin it being an impatient idiot.

Investigating the CDC’s stance on mated pairs in the workplace would need to be done quietly; my boss’s boss would be the best resource, as it’d maintain the chain of command and make it clear to the CDC I was serious about her. I’d also have to work harder at not just thinking of her as my boss but as both my boss and Ethel. On that front, I expected few issues.

Escaping her would be the true challenge. Every time I turned around, she watched me with the sort of smile that made her difficult to resist.

But as she promised, she waited.

Her waiting made resisting her almost as difficult as her smile.

With a little help from Jerome, who showed up at her trailer in the evening and drove me out by force and with a few snarls, I got some much needed sleep in my own apartment. I’d never been so relieved to return to work, although my good mood didn’t last long.

Mr. Coolridge ambushed me the instant I walked through the office doors. “You lycanthropes really are tough, aren’t you?”

Why had I dodged Ethel’s attempts to claim me? If I’d just gone with it, we would’ve been cuddled together somewhere, somewhere far away from the mall and the unwanted interest of the mall’s head of security. “It’s one of the advantages of being infected, sir.”

“A regular man would still be in intensive care.” Mr. Coolridge circled me, making thoughtful noises in his throat. “There’s not even a bruise left on you. I’m impressed, son.”

In the future, I would go out of my way to remind myself there were far worse things in life than Ethel’s attention. I had no idea how I’d make the adjustment to having her in my life as more than my boss, but it beat dealing with Mr. Coolridge.

I cursed my professionalism and work ethic. Had I been a little more relaxed about my job, I would’ve come up with an excuse to turn around and head to my boss’s office, tail tucked and prepared to face her wrath.

Mr. Coolridge gave me a serious case of the creeps.

“Will being on the outside round tonight be a problem for you?”

If I got mauled by another lycanthrope again, I’d have a serious problem with it, but the rules of professionalism—and my job description—stated I wouldn’t express my misgivings over my assignment. “Not at all, sir.”

“Good. There’s a new jacket for you in the spare locker. Expect a busy day; we’re down two men for the afternoon and evening shifts.”

Quitting once again rose to a high priority. Monday with a full security roster had been busy. On a Thursday, I expected far worse. As perspective mattered, I took some consolation it wasn’t Friday or the weekend. “Understood, sir.”

“You’ll be at the food court until eight, then you’ll be making the exterior rounds. Have a good shift, Mr. Jameson.”

From past experience working security in shopping centers, the food court patrols were the ones most likely to sour. Rowdy teens often took the top spot for causing trouble, especially if they’d recently developed magical talents. Sometimes, their trouble was accidental in nature.

Where the weird and weirder gathered in large numbers, strange shit happened.

I’d consider it a win if I went through my shift without becoming petrified.

Unlike the rest of the security staff, I kept my personal possessions with me. My wallet had seen better days but had survived Monday’s excitement. My phone hadn’t, so I carried a loaner from the CDC until they replaced it, which would happen sometime next week. Despite having spent an entire day trying to give Ethel the slip and provoke her into seeing how far she’d go to keep me close, I hoped she’d call with a reassignment.

Until the rogue lycanthrope was caught, I’d be spending a lot of time at the mall. If my shift went as I expected, the chaos in the food court would exhaust me within an hour.

I put on the mall security jacket, grabbed a portable radio from the box, tested it to make certain it worked, and armed myself with a spray can of neutralizer and a billy club. I hoped I wouldn’t need either, but if I did, I’d be set.

Fighting as a wolf didn’t work out well for me, but I’d grown up playing baseball, had good aim, and enough strength to turn the stick into a lethal weapon if needed. It didn’t offer me peace of mind though, not in the way many claimed being armed did, but if something did go wrong, Jerome wouldn’t have another reason to tear strips out of my hide.

The food court was on the mall’s second level, a decent hike from the mall’s central hub. The majority of the shoppers were human—or at least looked human—which boded well for my shift. While humans could cause trouble, they often lacked the firepower of the other races. Incubi and succubi ranked fairly high on the list of troublemakers, but most liked their sort of trouble.

As most of the demons enjoyed freedom, they left unmated lycanthropes alone; they didn’t feel losing their freedom was worth the energy boost. However, mated lycanthropes were a different story altogether.

Succubi and incubi hunted for a pair of mated lycanthropes when it came time for them to reproduce, and as prime targets, most lycanthropes either avoided them or carried salt—not that salt was actually effective against demons. Devils, on the other hand, disliked salt. It wouldn’t stop a devil, but they’d think twice about making a move.

I really hoped I didn’t have to deal with demons or devils on my shift.

Laughter warned me of trouble in the food court, and one of the other security guards spotted me, shook his head, and intercepted me. “Coolridge sent you over? That bastard has it out for you. Good luck, Jameson. You’re going to need it.”

Kevin, or so his name tag declared, seemed younger than me and in a hurry to get the hell out of the area, which promised hell was about to break loose and it was going to be dumped entirely on my head. I sighed. “Thanks for the warning.”