Wanted: Wild Thing (Midnight Liaisons) (4 page)

He did so, and when the seat slid backward a foot, he immediately looked relieved. His knees were still pressed to the dash, but he no longer looked as if he was in pain.

“Now shut the door,” I instructed him, then proceeded to show him the seat belts. Then, once everything was buckled and inside the car, I turned it on.

Eyes going wild, he immediately clenched the dashboard, and a low growl began in his throat.

“It’s fine,” I reassured him. “It’s mechanical. We turn it on and it goes.” And to show him, I reversed out of the parking space and pulled forward through the parking lot. “You okay?”

“I am well,” he gritted between his teeth.

“All righty. Heads up, then, because we’re going to go faster. Don’t jump out or anything. You could seriously hurt yourself.”

He gave me a scathing look that seemed to indicate he knew better than that, so I turned onto the road and began to head for the nearest drive-thru coffee shop. My awkward, enormous passenger seemed to be handling things okay. Hissing and growling, but okay.

Why had Finian thought this man could protect me? He was out of his element in a major way. “So, where you’re from . . . they don’t have cars?”

“No,” he said flatly.

“Ah. Horses? Do you ride everywhere?”

“We walk or run. We do not require assistance.” He practically spat the word. “We are not weak like humans.”

Well, this was a fun conversation. “Which brings me to another point,” I said, determined not to lose my temper at his sour attitude. “What
are
you, exactly?”

“The fae call my kind ‘long-tooth.’ ”

I had no idea what that was. “Is that fae for ‘big wild man’? I meant, what is your animal? Some sort of cat? It’s clear you’re a shifter.”

“I am a primordial,” he told me bluntly, then leaned forward to peer out the windshield as we pulled into the all-night coffee shop that I liked to frequent.

“I don’t know what a primordial is,” I told him. “Some kind of cat?”

“Long-tooth,” he repeated, as if that explained everything.

Okay, we were getting nowhere with this. I pulled into the drive-thru line. “I’m about to order. You want something to eat?”

“I should like a meal,” he admitted, his tone grudging, as if he hated to ask.

“This is good. This is a start,” I told him encouragingly. “What’s your favorite meal? Maybe we can order something similar.”

“Haunch of unicorn.”

I stared at him. Just stared. Was he . . . messing with me? But his face was deadly earnest. “Um, I don’t think they have that here. Just sandwiches and cookies and coffee stuff. How about I order you something?”

He shrugged.

I clicked the button to roll down my window and heard Hugh’s sharp inhalation of surprise. A second later I heard his claws scrape against the door, and he began to play with the window on his side. I ignored it and placed my order. “Large hot lemon tea, heavy on the lemon, a large triple espresso, heavy on the espresso, and a large soda. And a dry bagel,” I added, thinking of poor Savannah. I looked over at my companion, then added to the drive-thru window, “And I need some sandwiches. How many do you have?”

“What kind?” came the voice over the speaker. “We’re running low, since it’s the end of the day, but we might have what you need.”

“Actually, just give me all of them. Doesn’t matter what kind they are.” I winced at the total that was read back to me, then pulled forward. “Sorry, Hugh, they’re fresh out of haunch of unicorn.”

He peered out the window. “Who is there?”

“Who is where?”

“You are yelling at someone.”

Oh, boy. How to explain drive-thru logistics. “Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.”

He grunted and went back to rolling up the window, then rolling it down again.

I paid, then took the drinks and bags of sandwiches they handed over. Once we pulled out, I thought for a moment, then parked in the lot and looked at Hugh. “Before we go back, I think we need to talk.”

Hugh’s nostrils flared and he sniffed the air.

“Hungry?” I asked him, offering him the bag of sandwiches. “There’s bound to be something in here that you will like. Help yourself.” I put Savannah’s drink in the cup holder, along with Hugh’s, and took a sip of my own heavily caffeinated beverage. Mmm. Pure heaven. I closed my eyes in bliss.

The crinkle of sandwich wrappers caught my attention, along with the rip of paper.

I opened my eyes and stared as Hugh took another enormous bite out of the unwrapped sandwich in his hand. A piece of paper disappeared between his lips and he grimaced, clearly not enjoying the taste.

I stifled my giggle and reached over to help him out. “You take the paper off before you eat.”

He blinked at it, took another bite, and grunted, clearly more pleased.

If this situation hadn’t been so absurd, I would have been having a great time watching Hugh try to figure out everything. As it was, I kept circling back to my own problems. Hugh wasn’t here to entertain me—he was here to make sure another fae didn’t snatch me away before Finian claimed me. The espresso I was sipping suddenly didn’t taste so great, and I sighed and turned to Hugh. “You and I need to come to a bit of an understanding before we go any further.”

He gave me a displeased look. “I do not take orders from you, female.”

“Okay—first of all,” I snapped, losing my temper, “if you call me ‘female’ again, I’m going to punch you in the face. I have a name. It’s Ryder. Ryder Sinclair. Got it?”

“Ryder Sinclair,” he repeated.

“You can just call me Ryder,” I told him. “But if you call me ‘female’ again . . .”

“You will attempt to attack me with your small fists,” he said, clearly amused. “I understand.”

He was infuriating. “Look, you’re going to have to blend in, or you’re going back with Finian.”

“I do not take orders from you, Ryder,” he said, stressing my name. “Only Finian may order me. My vow is with him.”

I blinked. “What vow?”

“I will be his soldier for this task, in exchange for a reward. The vow is made with magic, and I cannot break it.”

All this woo-woo fae stuff was giving me a headache. “So what did he promise you? Maybe I can pay the difference.”

Hugh ignored me and just took another big bite from a sandwich.

“Is it money?”

“It is not money. It is something you cannot offer.”

Back to square one. “That brings me to my original point—you and I have to come to an understanding.”

“And I will repeat, female, that I do not take orders from you. I take orders from your owner.”

I sputtered, raising my fist. Female. Owner. He was
so
asking for a smack in the face.

And judging by the way his cat-eyes glittered with amusement, he was daring me to do so.

I scowled, lowering my fist. “God, you’re annoying.”

He chuckled, unwrapping another sandwich and taking an enormous bite.

“I’m serious, though. You’re going to have to blend in if you don’t want me approaching the Alliance for protection from all this.”

He snorted. “Who is this Alliance?”

“The Paranormal Alliance? It’s shifters and such. Your kind of people.”

“Whoever they are, they are not my people.” He gave me a flat look. “Explain this Alliance.”

“Okay.” I thought for a moment. “The Alliance was started because wolves run in packs, right? And they’re led by an alpha. But that’s not the case for most shifters. Things like were-coyotes and cougars and harpies don’t have packs. They don’t have that family association or protection that’s associated with a pack. They were all out on their own. So for a long time, the wolf packs kind of ran the place. They were bullies, I guess, for lack of a better word.” I shrugged, then continued with my explanation. “The Russells—that’s the ruling were-cougar clan—started the idea for the Alliance. All the non-pack shifters came together and formed an even bigger group, so now everyone’s protected. It’s like a big, friendly, furry mafia. Does that make sense?”

His lip curled. “And you think I need protection from wolves?”

“Well, no. You don’t look like you need protection from anyone or anything. I just meant that the Alliance is your people. Shifters. That sort of thing.”

“I told you. I am a primordial. Not Alliance.” Hugh looked affronted at the very suggestion. “I am not one of these puny, scared weaklings, and I need no help against wolf packs.”

“I just meant—”

“And these shifters cannot protect you.”

“Why not? They protect all supernaturals.”

“Because I will destroy all of them to ensure that my vow is not broken.”

A chill ran down my spine and I stared at him, noticing again the length of his sharp teeth, the claws tipping each finger, the absolute slabs of muscle covering his frame.

Hugh was dangerous. He was here to “protect” me from anyone and everyone that might get in the way of Finian’s wants. Because Finian was holding something over his head. Something he wouldn’t tell me about.

This had me stymied. How could I fix this?

Could I go to Beau and Bathsheba for protection? As the head of the Alliance, Beau Russell ran everything paranormal-related and had a really long reach. He could solve almost any problem. His wife, Bathsheba, “Bath” for short, was my boss at the dating agency, and I could go to her, too. Explain what I was and ask the Alliance to help protect me from Hugh and Finian. They’d do it. They’d be miffed that I’d been hiding my real nature from them, but they’d help me out. That was what they did.

But . . . then what?

I’d still be turning fully into my changeling self on my birthday, unable to help it.

It wouldn’t help me find my True Love, the one who could break my curse.

And . . . Hugh would apparently destroy all of them to ensure the vow was not broken.

Like it or not, I had to throw my lot in with Hugh and Finian for now to keep everyone safe. I looked over at Hugh as he ate. He was watching our surroundings with keen-eyed fascination, clearly trying to absorb everything he could.

I needed Hugh on my side. Maybe if I could get him to work with me, he could share more information with me about what I was, and how I could break my curse before I became a full-blown changeling.

That seemed like the best plan available. So I smiled at Hugh, turning on the charm. “Enjoying your meal?”

He grunted, unwrapping yet another sandwich and eating half of it in one bite.

Undeterred, I said, “Since you and I will be working closely together for the next month, you need to understand more of what’s going on.”

Hugh looked over at me, eyes narrowing. “Do tell.”

“Well, for starters, no one but you and Finian knows that I am a changeling.”

He grunted again and gave a quick nod. “That is for the best.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But everyone is going to wonder why you are constantly around me and guarding me. They will ask questions. You need to tell them that you’re with me because you’re signing up for the agency and you’re shy, and I’ve offered to help you ease into the dating waters.”

He chewed slowly and looked over at me. “Female, I understand naught of what you just said.”

This man was making it awfully hard to be cheerful. My smile became tight with strain. “First off, I’m not going to answer you if you continue to call me ‘female.’ ”

“Ah, yes. You shall put your wee fist in my face.” He chuckled.

Now I was pissed. “Actually, I will push
this,
” I said, pointing at the hazard lights button on the dashboard and bluffing, “and your seat will move forward so hard and fast that your balls will end up in your throat.” I let my finger hover over the button. “So go on—call me ‘female’ again.”

He stopped chewing, and the amusement vanished off his face, replaced by speculation and a hint of admiration. “Ryder,” he said gruffly.

“That’s better.” I let my voice become sweet, and I dropped my hand away from the hazard button. “All I’m trying to say is that you have to blend in. It’ll be easier for you to guard me if no one suspects your real motivation.”

“This is true,” he admitted. “But I cannot lie. It is against the nature of a primordial to portray themselves falsely.”

“It’s not a real lie,” I cajoled. “Just a teeny-tiny one. We’ll sign you up for the agency, and you can pretend to be shy. It’s not such a stretch that I’d take you under my wing and help you out. I’m known to be a bit flirty with men,” I said, and fluttered my eyelashes at him.

Hugh stared at me. Swallowed his bite of sandwich. Shook his head, ever stubborn. “I will not lie.”

I gave him an exasperated look, resisting the urge to dump my coffee over his tangled braids and scowly face. “What do you do when someone asks you something incriminating? That would be bad to answer?”

“I simply do not answer.”

“Good,” I said, seizing on that. “Perfect. If someone asks you something that will contradict the story that I make up about why you’re here, just don’t answer. It’ll go well with the whole ‘shy’ cover story.”

He glared at me. “I do not like this.”

“Well, welcome to my world, Hugh. I don’t like
any
of this.”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“All I ask is that you let me do the talking, and if you don’t agree with something, you just say nothing. That helps me keep my secret, which helps you keep me safer.”

A long pause. Then a grudging “Very well.”

“Good.” I turned the car on again. “Let’s go back to the office and see how poor Savannah is doing. Hopefully she hasn’t puked her guts out.”

“She is dying?”

I raised an eyebrow at his question. “No, she’s pregnant. Don’t tell me they don’t have women in the fae realm, either?”

“They might,” he said. “But I am a primordial.”

Like I was supposed to have some idea what that meant? The man was like a skipped record.

By the time we returned to the office, Hugh had demolished all of the sandwiches and my car was filled with wrapper after empty wrapper. I spent a few minutes picking them up and grumbling about men before heading inside, Hugh trailing after me.

Savannah was at her desk, a bit drawn but typing, a step in the right direction. She gave me a relieved smile when I presented her with the hot tea. “Thank you, Ryder. You’re so sweet.”