Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Ah, it is good to see you both,” Valentina declared, a hint of a Russian accent to her voice. “Quinley, I wanted to thank you for how much you have helped our Aurora. She was in terrible pain. My Alex and Bree were heartsore by it, and so exhausted.” She raised a hand, all imperious. “Do not tell me there is no need to thank you. There is. And I have done it.”
Quinley smiled fondly. “You really are supremely bossy.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” James muttered.
Ignoring that, Valentina cocked her head at Quinley. “I heard your cat terrorizes your neighbors.”
His mate pulled a face. “Would we call it terrorizing?”
Valentina blinked. “She stands on top of their fence and stares down at them, irritating their animals to extent that they shift to chase her off. Except it is as if she vanishes into thin air. They can never track her.”
Quinley shrugged. “She’s really just trying to make friends.”
“Bah. She does not want friends. She wants to make it known to those around her that she will not make easy prey. I approve.”
So did Isaiah. The neighbors who’d tried shooing her cat off by hissing or yelling at her often shortly afterward found “gifts” on their pillows, such as legless barely-alive spiders—something Quinley denied knowing anything about. But everyone knew her animal was to blame.
There was pallas cat mean, which basically involved trying to eat your face.
And there was black-foot mean, which typically meant circling back and sneaking into your house to either slit your throat or leave you icky stuff to freak you out.
Valentina’s eyes narrowed. “It does make me curious about whether or not—”
“No,” Isaiah cut in, sensing where this was going.
“What?” asked Valentina.
“You’re wondering if your wolverine would be able to catch her. No way are we conducting that experiment,” he stated firmly. “I like my mate alive and breathing.” Wolverines were fucking vicious, and they didn’t stop fighting until someone was dead.
Quinley let out a sound that was something between a snicker and a snort. “She’d never catch me.”
Isaiah glared at her. “You’re making this worse.”
“My wolverine is wonderful tracker,” Valentina warned.
Quinley smiled placidly. “Super. Also irrelevant. She’d never find my cat.”
James stirred. “I agree it would be dangerous, but I admit to being curious myself—”
“No,” Isaiah again interjected.
His mate looked up at him. “You have no faith in me?”
He pointed at her. “Don’t twist this.”
She only smiled again.
“Have you tried tracking her?” James asked him.
“Yes.” He’d done it last night when he’d returned home from work to find her phone and keys in the house, indicating she’d gone for a run in her cat form.
James lifted a brow. “And?”
Isaiah ground his teeth. “And I may have failed.”
Quinley snickered. “I warned you. You wouldn’t listen.”
She had warned him. More than once, actually. But he’d had faith in his abilities as a hunter to trace her location. It turned out he shouldn’t have.
Valentina hummed. “Camden, I believe, is very good tracker.”
Isaiah slashed a hand through the air. “We’re not testing this with his tiger either.” His inner feline was equally against her being hunted down that way.
Valentina’s shoulders dropped. “You are so boring.”
“I’m not boring, I’m protective. I’ve also met your wolverine many times. She’s a menace who gets caught up in a hunt and plans only death for whatever she catches. Am I wrong?”
“No, but—”
“He’s right,” James told his mate, “it would be too risky.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Quinley piped up. “Because she’d fail.”
Isaiah growled. “Quinley, for fuck’s sake. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
She only chuckled.
Valentina shook her head. “I swear, Quinley, I did not realize he was so boring. I would have warned you before you mated him.” The wolverine slid her gaze back to him. “A woman needs some adventure in her life. Thrills. Excitement.”
“Being hunted by a wolverine isn’t something anyone would term ‘exciting,’” he insisted.
“I would,” said Quinley.
He groaned, his head almost falling back in exasperation.
“There, you see,” Valentina said to him, triumphant. “Dominant males and their overprotectiveness. Yawn.”
Quinley started to laugh, the minx.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Blair pulled a face at the complimentary pot of ketchup. “That’s not something that would count as any kind of gift, let alone a Christmas present.”
“Oh, I know,” said Elle, bopping her head to the music coming from an idling car in the mall’s parking lot.
“Wait, you don’t want it to count?”
The redhead plopped the ketchup into one of her shopping bags. “No.”
Blair turned to her. “But he’s your brother.”
“Half-brother.”
“You and Damian have the exact same parents.”
“Same mother,” Elle corrected. “His father is Satan himself.”
Quinley smiled against the inside of her coat collar, her face half-buried inside it to protect her skin from the cold.
Blair gave Elle a flat smile. “Hmm, Damian kind of looks like your dad.”
“The Antichrist can take any form he chooses,” said the redhead.
“Okay, how is it you think your mom came to have sex with Satan?” Blair challenged.