Prickly By Nature (2 page)

Dylan might’ve worried, except Avery’s joy through their bond was unmistakable. He loved it, even more so that Avery had a hand in making Lucas let loose. Dylan wasn’t the only one who’d noticed his friend’s poor mood lately. Dylan turned and ran down the hill after Lucas and Avery. Barks and howls of four playful wolves echoed throughout the woods. Their chase ended when Avery’s tiny body tumbled over a one-foot ledge into a small brook. If Dylan could have, he would have laughed.

Avery surfaced, hissing and spitting, but found his way onto his back, making himself into a boat and drifting downstream. Lucas jumped in after him. Sudden waves and splashing tipped Avery again. After righting himself for a second time, Avery gave Lucas what Dylan assumed was a hedgehog’s version of a glare accompanied by another hiss. Dylan watched an unfazed Lucas, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, move around Avery then plop down. A makeshift dam, he kept Avery from floating too far downstream. They seemed happy there, Avery bobbing and rocking against Lucas’s side and Lucas taking up the helmet of protector, at least in that moment.

With a chuff of humor, Dylan trotted off to play with Sawyer and Kirk.

Hours later, while they drove back to the southeast side of town, Dylan was filled with pride at the dreamy look of happiness on Avery’s face as he drifted off. Dylan liked it and wanted to see it more often. Worrying about Avery and his long hours, his lack of sleep, and the possible dangers he faced with his new job wasn’t getting Dylan anywhere. He promised himself and Avery that he would do everything in his power to keep a look of contentment on Avery’s face.

THE FIRST
thing Avery learned about stakeouts was they were about as dull as watching an alligator nap. He thought he’d known boredom before, but oh no. His prior experience paled in comparison to the tedium of sitting in a car for hours on end, trying to be inconspicuous while hoping for something interesting to happen. According to Reid, 90 percent of the time what happened was a whole lot of nothing. Such was the bane of a private detective, waiting and watching… and more waiting. The books and TV shows made it seem a lot more exciting. Avery wondered if he could sue someone for false advertising.

In reality, he could only be glad he’d brought snacks, his iPhone, and an insulated bag for drinks. Bad enough he was bored. The night would suck even harder if he were hungry or thirsty too. Despite the headphones covering his ears and the various games he’d been playing, he was fidgety and tired. Only Reid’s presence in the driver’s seat kept him awake. Barely.

Avery removed the headphones and snuck a peek at Reid as he tucked them into his messenger bag. Reid didn’t look like the type of man Avery thought of when he heard “PI.” Then again, Avery probably wouldn’t fit most people’s expectations either. Corbin Reid was striking in a way that made Avery think he should be on runways or the big screen. Avery could imagine him playing a seductive Romanian vampire, sweeping innocent Victorian misses—or misters—off their feet. His sable hair fell sleekly to just above his collar, cut in long layers that flattered his triangular face. His features were aquiline, his nose prominent, and his cheekbones sharp enough to cut diamonds. But it was his eyes, such a dark brown as to nearly be black, that caught and held the attention.

Reid’s stare was intense, penetrating, watchful in a way that made Avery think the detective missed very little. When Reid focused on him, Avery could almost see the bird of prey—a peregrine falcon—lurking beneath Reid’s wiry human form. He wasn’t much taller than Avery’s five-seven, but his sharp-eyed gaze and almost military bearing gave him an air of intimidation Avery knew he’d never possess. Reid always seemed so still, carefully contained, as if poised and ready to strike. He might not resemble the trench-coat-and-fedora-wearing private dicks of yore, but one thing he did look was dangerous.

Maybe that was why Dylan had approved of Reid as a mentor for Avery, even if he wasn’t in love with the idea of Avery becoming a PI in the first place. Not only did Reid have a connection to Lucas and the pack, he’d earned the respect of one hunter to another. Meanwhile, Avery intended to work the only angle he could—the cute, harmless, and perhaps a bit ditzy blond. Guileless, nonthreatening. Unlike Reid, they wouldn’t see him coming. Reid looked every inch the cunning predator he was. Avery was the wolf in sheep’s clothing. Hedgehog in bunny’s clothing? Whatever.

Point was, together they were the perfect matchup in the good cop, bad cop sort of way. Avery needed fifteen hundred hours of real-life experience before he could apply for his PI license—or at least a thousand if the investigative journalism classes he’d taken while at the University of Oregon counted toward that requirement. Reid needed a gofer and seemed amenable to training him. It worked out for everyone involved.

Except for times like these, when Avery wished Reid’s hypervigilant ass wasn’t around so he could catch a few Zs. Course, with his luck, that’d be the moment something noteworthy happened. The clock on the radio read 4:00 a.m. Given his animal’s nocturnal nature, Avery should’ve been alert. Instead, he felt practically comatose. He’d gotten too used to a diurnal schedule while trying to pass as an ordinary human, much to his detriment when it came to all-night stakeouts. Sitting around in a car was surprisingly exhausting. He was tempted to prop his eyelids open with toothpicks à la
Tom and Jerry
.

“Sometimes I wish I could do this as a falcon,” Reid said, making Avery jump and snapping him out of his fantasies about cushy pillows, soft blankets, and the strong, inviting arms of his mate. “It’d be easier to spy on unfaithful spouses if I could sit outside the window on a tree branch. But then, the clients want their pictures for evidence. Kind of hard to carry a camera as a bird.”

Avery snorted at the image of a falcon with a Nikon strapped to its neck. Then he outright laughed at the idea of himself as a hedgehog trying to drag a camera along the ground. “Yeah, not so much.”

The corner of Reid’s mouth lifted in a brief smile. Despite his mannerisms, he wasn’t so severe he wouldn’t joke around. Avery appreciated that.

Reid stiffened. “We have movement.”

Avery squinted hard at the house. He couldn’t see a damn thing, but he didn’t question Reid. A falcon’s vision totally outmatched a hedgehog’s. Reid could probably spot an inch-long mouse in a wheat field at high noon during a windstorm. Avery might have called him eagle-eyed, but he didn’t know if it would be an insult or a compliment to a falcon shifter.

Seconds later, someone flicked on a light upstairs.

Reid grabbed his camera from the dashboard. It was rather unwieldy, a Canon with a long-range zoom lens. Not exactly suited for stealth, but perfect for shots like these when quality took precedence over secrecy.

The door to the house opened and the couple standing in the entryway exchanged a groping, dry-humping good-bye complete with porno tongue and an ass slap to finish.

“Gotcha,” Reid murmured as he snapped one money shot after another.

Avery cringed a little. Watching middle-aged heterosexuals make out was not his idea of a good time. “So she really is nailing the mailman. How very cliché.”

Reid lowered his camera to check the shots on his screen. “Could’ve been the milkman.”

Avery looked at him askance. “That’s a thing still?”

Reid nodded. “Yep. Some dairy farms and specialty stores still offer it. My mother gets hers delivered.” He lifted the camera and took a few more shots as the mailman got into his car and Mrs. Dutcher waved to him from the front stoop.

“Huh. Poor Mr. Dutcher. He’s off selling office furniture while his wife is fondling the mailman’s package. Pun intended.”

Reid snorted. “I think she did more than fondle.” He sighed. “I have a feeling there’ll be tears when we show him these.”

Avery turned to him in surprise. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” Reid said as he removed the lens from his camera. “Sometimes it feels like therapy is part of the job. Even if people suspect, it’s different when they have cold, hard evidence in front of them. I’ve witnessed more heartbreak than a cardiologist.”

Avery frowned. He didn’t really want to be a part of breaking up hearts and marriages. But according to Reid, missing persons, background checks, and cheating spouses were the bulk of the modern PI’s bread and butter. A necessary evil if one wanted to keep the bills paid without being on a corporate roster. And Avery most definitely preferred the freedom of self-employment and choosing his own cases.

“Let’s get some food,” Reid said once he was done repacking everything. “I’m starved.”

Avery nodded even though his stomach gurgled unpleasantly. He didn’t really understand infidelity. Why not just end things when the spark died? What was the point of sneaking around? It only led to pain. Mr. Dutcher would have a hell of a shock waiting for him when he got back from his business trip on Monday. It made Avery sad to imagine the man crying over the pictures. He could only be glad that he wouldn’t be the one breaking the news. Yet.

“SO, WHAT
made you want to get into PI work?” Reid asked once they were seated at a twenty-four-hour diner not too far from Avery’s house. “Luc didn’t say much about it when he asked if I’d take you on.”

Avery’s eyes widened. He’d figured Lucas had filled Reid in about Lacey and Mr. Otis and the entire ordeal. He peered around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear, then spoke quietly.

“Well, I’ve been kind of unofficially looking into the disappearance of a pack member named Lacey Acker. She’s been missing for a while now, and from what I found out, we know she was taken by people involved in a human trafficking ring. I know she was sold, but that’s it. I promised her father I wouldn’t stop searching until I found her for him. The poor wolf lost his mate in a car accident five years ago. Now his daughter is gone. I feel bad for him. At this point, I don’t think I can rest until I’ve brought her home one way or another.”

Reid nodded. “Luc said you were at that warehouse that was on the news a few months ago. I was actually looking into a missing persons case for the parents of one of the girls who was rescued. I’ll be happy to share what I’ve learned with you.”

Avery leaned eagerly across the table, nearly dipping his shirt into his ketchup-covered tofu scramble. “Really?”

“Yes. I’ll show you my files the next time we’re at the office.”

“Awesome, thank you. I’ll tell you all I know too.”

Reid dug into his steak and eggs. Avery wondered if it felt weird for him to eat the unborn offspring of a fowl or if a peregrine falcon’s natural position in the food chain kept it from being bizarre. He knew in the wild they mainly ate other birds, while hedgehogs were omnivorous. To an extent, those traits translated to their human forms, but Avery only ate meat when his body absolutely demanded it. The rest of the time he considered himself an ovo-lacto vegetarian. He couldn’t handle a pure vegan diet. Avery was a sucker for cheese, and he did love milk in his Earl Grey, the way his late grandmother drank it.

“So, you got the itch while looking into her case, then?” Reid asked after he swallowed his forkful.

Avery bobbed his head. “Yeah. I think I could be good at investigative work. I mean, there were some hitches along the way”—he winced as he recalled waking up in a cell in the warehouse and the chaos that ensued when Dylan and the others charged in to try to rescue him—“but while I searched for her, I finally felt like I’d maybe found my purpose. My mama and daddy had been pushing me to apply myself to something for years. I’m sure this isn’t the job they had in mind, but, well, it’s not like they’ve ever approved of anything I did anyway. I’m the black sheep of the family, metaphorically speaking.”

Reid sipped at his coffee. “You’re not close to your family?”

Avery leaned back and shrugged one shoulder. “No. Not really. You?”

“Very.”

“Are you married?” Avery asked. Reid didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t mean much.

Reid shook his head without elaborating. He lifted his arm to wave at the waitress, signaling he needed a warm-up before he set his mug down. “Are you nearly done? Best get you back to your mate soon. I don’t relish the idea of a jealous wolf coming after me.” He winked to show he was mostly teasing.

Avery chuckled and returned to his food. He pondered Reid’s lack of explanation for the rest of the meal. No spouse left the possibility of a girlfriend… or a boyfriend. Reid didn’t ping Avery’s gaydar at all, but then, he’d met other men who seemed straight as a ruler only to find out later they spent their nights swallowing cock and taking—or giving—it up the ass. Reid was a bit of an enigma, hard to peg. Avery might allow himself to wonder, though he’d never outright ask. A man deserved that much privacy at least. No one had ever mistaken Avery for straight, and he didn’t mind. But not everyone wanted their flame to shine as brightly as his did.

He finished off his omelet, nibbled on a piece of buttered toast, then drained the last of his orange juice before looking at Reid again. “Ready if you are.”

Reid nodded, and in a few short minutes, the bill was paid and they were on their way. Reid dropped Avery off in front of his house. Dylan’s place, really, but Avery had begun to think of it as home. As theirs. He hoped Dylan felt the same.

He trudged inside, his tiredness returning in full force now that his belly was full. It was going on six o’clock. Soon Dylan would wake and start his day. Avery could probably snatch an hour of snuggle time with his mate before then.

Once in the bedroom, he stripped to his briefs and slipped beneath the blankets. Dylan grumbled and threw an arm over him, then dragged him close.

“Welcome home, brat,” Dylan murmured, his voice deep, rough with sleep. “Glad you’re safe.”

Avery smiled and nestled in.

“THE TRANSMISSION
is shot. The guy says the camshaft is probably busted and the intake is definitely cracked,” Lucas said from beside him. The interest didn’t show on his face, but for the first time in months, Lucas resembled himself—lighthearted, happy, smiling—as opposed to the sullen sack he’d become lately.