“Don’t even think about it, cat.” He added a sub-vocal growl to the warning for good measure, and saw it was noted immediately.
The cat grinned. It transformed his face from cruel beauty to charm, and Gia sucked in a breath. “You wolves are always so possessive,” he said. Trying to defuse the tension? He couldn’t risk asking now.
Anthony narrowed his eyes, and wrapping his hand around Gia’s elbow, pulled her close to his side. “What are you doing here?”
“And rude. How could I forget rude?” the cat continued as if talking to himself. He sighed dramatically, but Anthony ignored him. Waited him out. He hadn’t met a non-theatrical cat yet. The façade hid cunning and god only knew what else.
“The same as you probably.” This time spoken seriously, with a bite of menace in his voice. “Hunting for the feral one.”
“And did you find him?” Gia asked.
“No,” he answered with a curt shake of his head. “I found an abandoned camp, next to a dirt access road. Tire tracks. Whoever he is, he’s moved on.”
“Shit,” Anthony muttered. He’d really hoped to find the feral cat quickly, execute it, and go back home. Now the search would start all over again. Unless… “Are you going to keep tracking him then?”
“Sorry, wolf. No such luck.” The damned cat grinned. “I was on a mission for my king when I got word of the feral. Since he’s not here and you are, however, there’s no reason for me to continue the delay.”
He swore under his breath while Gia asked what was obvious to him. “King?”
“He’s a lion,” Anthony practically snarled. He’d come across a few werelions over the years. They tended to be charming but standoffish and were fanatically loyal to their pride and king. “Is this feral cat a lion?”
“Of course not,” Carlos answered disdainfully. Oh yeah, now he remembered why he really didn’t like lions. They thought their shit didn’t stink. Whatever. Time to move on.
“Where’s the camp?”
Carlos gave them directions, then backed away in the opposite direction and disappeared into the trees. Anthony changed back into his wolf form and led Gia to the camp. The camp had been abandoned and the feral cat hadn’t left anything that might identify him behind. His scent ended on the dirt road where he’d obviously hidden a vehicle of some kind. A truck, Anthony guessed by the size of the tire markings.
They made the trek back to their car and the return drive home in silence. It was dawn before they reached their North Carolina town. He watched until Gia let herself into her house, before returning to Hunter headquarters. It had been a long day and night, and he collapsed in his bed fully clothed, asleep before he could motivate himself to strip.
Chapter Two
Anthony woke hard and aching, alone and wanting Gia. As usual. He rose, pulling off his slept-in clothes with distaste, and entered the shower. He washed with quick efficient moves and hesitated only a moment before wrapping his soap-covered hand around his cock.
With a groan, he tightened his grip for a series of slow strokes. Her image in his mind. Driving him crazy. Making him crave. His wrist moved faster as he envisioned her. Slowly stripping her. Touching. Tasting. Learning every sweet curve and sharp angle. Making her his forever. His strokes grew quicker, faster. Frenzied as he imagined the bite that would mark her as always his.
He came, leaned against the shower wall and watched the spurts of cum go down the drain. It seemed a fitting metaphor. If he didn’t convince her to give them a chance soon, his dreams for a future with her would follow.
Shaking off the maudlin thought, he turned off the water, dried off and got dressed. There was work to be done. There was always work to be done.
He found Clint and Ellen in his office. At least that was one problem that had been dealt with. Ellen glowed, happy that Clint had finally accepted his past and her place in his present.
When he entered, Ellen lifted a department store bag emblazoned with the local costume shop’s logo and set it on his desk, then stepped back with a Cheshire grin. Fuck. He had cats on the brain. Still. Growling, he peeked inside.
“What is this?”
“Your costume.”
He pulled out what he could only describe as gold underwear. “What in hell, Ellen?”
“The Halloween party tonight? Human hunters? Remember?”
He pulled the rest of the things from the bag. The underwear was some kind of loincloth. Sandals and calf guards. Something that looked like it might cross his chest. A red cape. There was no way she could really expect him to wear this!
“And what the hell is this?”
She was still grinning. “I thought it would fun if we all went as Spartans. You know? 300? Great movie.”
“Yeah.” He got it. “No.”
Ellen tilted her perfect heart-shaped face to one side, long red hair cascading over her shoulder at the movement, and he didn’t feel…anything but brotherly exasperation. Even knowing she wasn’t his, he’d considered her the ideal of feminine beauty for years. Now another face, another body, demanded his regard. He refused to call it obsession, but he knew he was bordering on it.
Ellen set her hand on Clint’s forearm, and moved in front of him, as if blocking him. It set Anthony’s teeth on edge. Made his hackles rise.
“You know,” she started, while caressing her mate. “Maybe seeing you as a Spartan is just the push Gia needs.” She shrugged. “Women are just as susceptible to physical appeal as men.”
He frowned. “Sure they are.”
She shrugged again, and he knew she was changing tactics. “Well, Clint is secure enough to wear it.”
Anthony laughed. “Sure he is.”
“Yeah,” she said with a huff. “He is. I’m going to set dinner out.” She pivoted on her heel and left the room.
He looked up to meet Clint’s gaze. “Tell me you aren’t.”
“If it makes her happy and
