Page 81 of Hoofin’ It

“I call dibs on his elbows,” Marian grumbled. “Damn it. Will this show on a drug test?”

“Of course not. It would be a very quick way for Ernie to earn a very angry enemy, and he wouldn’t want his precious cop hating him over something like that. If you were tested right now, you would show higher than normal endorphin levels unless they used a magic scanner, which would register demonic influences. Isn’t it lovely? I helped with its development. It wears off after six to eight hours, is non-addictive, and the only side effect is an understandable amount of exhaustion. Did he leave a bite for you, Marian? We’re happy to provide another dose for this evening should you need to give him a little extra encouragement to start using his teeth.”

“Amy!” Marian squealed.

I stretched, groaning at the ache of tired, sore muscles. “It’s too early in the morning for this, Amy.”

“Don’t be so shy. It’s an important question. Ernie gave his approval and put me in charge of the consummation of your relationship. He’s expecting wedding invitations.”

“Amy!” I protested.

“She already branded you, Shane. Don’t be a whiner.”

“Will you stop it with the brand stuff already? It’s really too early in the morning.”

“Lycanthropes don’t brand, do they, Marian? This is an unexpected hurdle. Would you like to explain it to him, or should I?”

Marian groaned, rolled over, and stole my pillow, smashing it over her head. “Go away, please.”

“I guess that means I get to do it. Your badge babe is a shifter of some sort, and shifters like leaving visible marks of their claim on their chosen partner. You’ve been wisely selected by your badge babe. A bite like hers is called a brand, as it’s essentially a mark of ownership. They heal slowly, and when it does heal, you’ll have a very permanent scar, one other shifters will recognize as a brand. I’m surprised the CDC didn’t tell you. But then again, Ernie had to do some research to figure out what it is. Once he started poking at your medical records and figured out your new status as an unidentified shifter, it made sense. Normally, branding is done as part of a wedding ceremony, but demonic influences are known to drive excited females into staking their claim early. Of course, some shifter species have temporary brands—a mark to make it clear a female has reserved a male for breeding season.”

Since stealing my pillow back from the woman doing her best to hide would be rude, I groaned and draped my arm over my eyes. “Did I bite you, Marian? Wait. Didn’t you say you can tell if there’s a bite, Amy?”

“We do have to see the bite.” Amy snickered, and before I could stop her, she yanked the blankets off us. Marian shrieked, and I grabbed the sheet, spitting curses at the succubus.

“My, my. You are a lovely woman. Do you think if I ask Shane nicely he’ll share? We’d have a great time. I promise.”

There was only one way to deal with a nosy succubus, and it involved my pillow and her face. I armed myself, whipping the pillow at Amy. “Are you trying to get her to kill me?” It took several swats to drive the succubus out of my bedroom. “Go away, and lock the damned door behind you, you she-devil!”

Laughing, Amy retreated, caressing my cheek with the tip of her tail. “Don’t forget you humans need breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and it’s already well past noon. Up, up. You wouldn’t want to still be in bed when company comes calling, and trust me when I tell you that company will be calling soon enough.”

“Company? What company?”

Amy didn’t reply, but the front door closed with a thump and a click, muffling the succubus’s laughter.

Chapter Twenty-Three

On the third sip, I realized I hadn’t put coffee grinds in the filter. I regarded my steaming mug of water with a frown, sighed, and dumped it in the sink.

“That took you two swallows longer than I expected,” Marian murmured from my couch. Sometime between me staggering out of the bedroom to make sure Amy was really gone and beginning my morning routine in an exhausted daze, she’d dressed in a black skirt and white blouse with a black tie. “Start over. Put some pants on and go splash some water on your face. Actually, take a cold shower. That might wake you up. I’ll make the coffee.”

I regarded the carafe with a mixture of self-loathing, disdain, and resignation. Then it hit me I wasn’t wearing pants—or anything else for that matter. Unable to think of a single thing I could say without making the situation worse, I grunted, abandoned ship, and retreated to my bedroom to fetch clean clothes.

A cold shower didn’t help as much as I’d hoped, but I managed to get dressed without putting any of my clothes on inside out or backwards. I staggered into my living room, discovered my parents on the couch, and reversed course for my bedroom to sleep off what I hoped was a hallucination.

Within three steps, sickeningly familiar werewolf breath washed over the back of my neck. “Shane,” my father growled.

Fights between hybrid-form werewolves and humans usually ended with the human being beaten senseless, sat upon, or otherwise immobilized. If I hadn’t been so tired, I might have gotten in a punch before Dad smacked me to the floor, rolled me onto my stomach, and sat on me.

Then he grabbed the collar of my shirt and tugged to get an up close and personal look at Marian’s bite.

Someone was going to die, and I needed to think long and hard about how to best kill Ernesto so he’d never bother me again. “Can’t I have coffee before you start this shit, Dad?”

“No.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a man visit his son?”