When a fae boy goes missing, all evidence points to a warg being responsible for the crime. Thierry is called to lead the hunt for the rogue, but the closer she gets to locating the boy, the further she gets from the truth.
Black Dog, Tome 1.5 : Dog Days Of Summer
The cooler protested when Shaw sat on its top and stretched out his long legs toward me.
“Can’t a guy be worried about his girlfriend and want to check up on her?”
Okay, I admit it. My heart fluttered. Having Shaw call me his girl made me giddy.
“Nice try,” I allowed, “but no. I can see the open case file on your dash from here.”
“Point to you.” He peeled the label from the bottle of water clenched in his fist. “What do you know about cockatrices?”
The use of a stalling tactic made me wonder if this wasn’t some kind of test.
He was my training officer after all.
Staring over my shoulder at him cramped my neck, so I turned to face him. “Enough not to look one in the eye.” Holding their stare would kill you. It was all very Medusa-like. I shifted one hip and pulled a shiny compact, the clamshell kind with double mirrors, out of my pocket. “I also brought this in case he tries to flog me.”
“Except that seeing its reflection would kill it,” Shaw interrupted me.
“Leave me to my fantasies.” I was ready to wring its stinky neck barehanded.
His toe nudged my thigh. “I’d like to hear more about these fantasies of yours.”
“Not these you wouldn’t.” I pinched his leg through his jeans. “They involve barbeque sauce.”
The thoughtful tilt of his chin should have concerned me more, but one thing I can say is dating an incubus opens your eyes to an entire world of erotic possibility you never imagined existed. What did it say about me that the application of barbeque sauce in the bedroom intrigued me a teensy bit?
I was born and raised in Texas after all.
“Come on. The truth this time. What brings you out to this fine stretch of unnamed road?” The mile markers had run out about the same time as my enthusiasm for this case. “If you came to tell me chicken jokes, I’ve heard ’em all.” One guy at the office didn’t even bother with a punchline, he just started clucking.
“A favor.” Shaw rubbed his jaw. “Have you met Jim in accounting?”
“Once.” I spun my bottle’s cap on the bed liner. “I paid him a visit because my check was wrong.”
“His middle boy is missing.”
“Oh no.” I slapped a hand over the whirling cap to stop it. “How can I help?”
“Jim’s family lives in one of the new all-fae subdivisions near Monahans. I want you to ride out with me to talk to the family.” He braced his forearms on his thighs. “Missing persons cases are bad, Thierry. People get angry. They get loud. They get violent. And we’re the ones wearing the badges.” His long fingers threaded together. “This is a solid opportunity for you to get your feet wet handling this type of case. Say the word, and I’ll pen your ID number on the tab next to mine. Are you ready for this?”
The offer to assist him was huge, but I had gone big before, and it had almost killed me.
Still. There was the missing kid to think of, so I looked Shaw square in the eye. “Let’s do this.”
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