Hour of the Lion, Cherise Sinclair [good story books to read TXT] 📗

was leaving Albert Baty‘s grocery, then glanced down at Vic. "Alec will also demand his fair share of your attention as we each enjoy having you alone now and then." Without waiting for her to speak, he opened the door to the police station and ushered her in.

Alec sat in his office, head bent over paperwork. She couldn‘t help admiring his broad shoulders. There was something sexy about a tough guy doing paperwork. He‘d left a rose on her pillow this morning. He was so sweet, and despite Calum‘s assurances, guilt lay like a stone in her belly.

He looked up. "‗Bout time. You were due here an hour ago." His nostrils flared, and then his eyes narrowed as he studied Vic.

She flushed, knowing her lips were swollen. Hell, she probably smelled of Calum.

To her shock, he smiled with what looked like approval. Well damn.

He waved to the chairs beside the desk and waited as she and Calum sat down. "Vicki, Calum and I talked about how you‘re stuck here. Being a barmaid might be fun, but not for a prolonged period. Not for someone like you."

"Like me?"

"Smart, skilled, tough as nails, and dedicated to whatever you do. You need something more demanding than a fluff job," Alec answered.

"Well." She blinked, warmth filling her belly. Was that really how he saw her? "You have a solution?" And what would that solution be? Enlist? Join the Marines? Been there, done that.

"Yep," Alec said smugly. "Come and work for me."

Here? She looked around the tiny police station. Receptionist/dispatcher to one side of the door. Alec‘s office, the patrol officer‘s area on the other. A door to Alec‘s infamous two jail cells in the back. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"Oh." Vic chewed on her lip. Police work. Protecting people. Using her brain to solve problems. "Don‘t I need some certification and classes and all that?"

"You will. But for now, until you decide if you like it, and I discover if you‘re any good, we‘ll call you an entry level sheriff‘s deputy."

"I don‘t know—you must know better qualified people."

"Hardly." Alec gave her an even look. "Qualified people rarely want to work in the boring boondocks. Of those that do, too many are arrogant bastards I wouldn‘t trust to take out the garbage." He ran a hand through his hair. "I have a couple of good ones now. Men who are here for the same reason I am—because this is where my family and friends live."

"Oh. Well—"

"With both Daonain and humans in an area, it works better when shifters handle enforcement." He grinned. "It‘s not appropriate to ask a human to calm down a pissed-off bear."

Then his smile dropped away. "And if something happens like it did with Jamie, the standard human response is to get help from a higher authority. But if the government or military were called in…"

Calum growled under his breath.

Cold slid up Vic‘s spine at the deadly sound. "What do you think they‘d do?"

Alec‘s eyes, so warm and full of fun, turned terrifyingly cold. Please, never let him look at me like that. "At least twice, we‘ve rescued a shifter getting gutted on a lab table in a military site. Just another specimen to dissect. If they truly believed we exist?" His mouth thinned.

"Humans have a long history of genocide."

"Oh."

His face cleared. "Anyway, with the problems recently, I could use another deputy. One who is skilled enough to handle deadly situations. Truthfully, Vicki? I need you."

There was a knot in her chest, one she hadn‘t even known was present until it started to loosen. She could have a job where she could use her skills. She was needed. She breathed in, worked for the right casual tone, "Oh, well then, sure. I accept."

*

Eyeing the phone, Vic sat on a chair in the bedroom designated hers. Each day, something new appeared. A quilt in soothing blues and greens. A handmade rug from a local craftswoman.

A painting of the mountains above Cold Creek. The very comfortable chair she sat in now. She smiled. She hadn‘t spent a night in the bed yet, but to have a room of her own was comforting.

She used it when the guys pissed her off, so she wouldn‘t rip their obstinate heads off.

She closed her eyes. Stalling, Sergeant?

She picked up the phone. Set it down. Picked it up again and dialed.

"Wells."

Dammit, why did he only answer when she didn‘t want to talk with him? But would this be the last time she talked with him? A place deep within hollowed out with emptiness. "Um. It‘s me, Vi—Sergeant Morgan."

She could almost see his attention move from paperwork to focus on her. Like a laser beam.

"Sergeant. I expected you in person."

"Well, yeah. I know." She grimaced. This was like having little pieces of her body—her soul—hacked off. "Something came up, and I…won‘t be returning. I‘m resigning."

Silence.

"Um. Effective today. Sir."

He‘d be narrowing his eyes now, as if he could see across the country. "Are you still in Washington state?"

She hadn‘t expected that question. "Yessir. Sir, I‘m sending you the official paperwo—"

"Why are you resigning?"

Went right to the heart of the matter, didn‘t he? Sometimes she had to wonder if he and Calum were related. But she‘d already thought of the answer to this—an honest one, oddly enough. "I fell for a man." Men. "It‘s serious and I don‘t want to leave him." Them. And it would be really awkward to turn into a fuzzball during a firefight. "Anyway, sir, I will be staying here."

"Cold Creek?"

"Um. Yes—how did you know?"

"I‘m a spy, Morgan; it‘s what we do."

She snorted. Waited.

"You had a copy of your physical sent to you in Cold Creek," he explained.

She closed her eyes and thumped her head on back of the chair. Dumbshit. Swane had probably tracked her that way. Fucking-A, she‘d done it to herself. "Got it."

"About that matter you wanted me to investigate—"

"That‘s been dealt with," she interrupted quickly. God, Calum and Alec would go ballistic if they knew a CIA muckety-muck was investigating Swane. "The local