For Your Paws Only (Supernatural Enforcers Agency #2)
Read For Your Paws Only (Supernatural Enforcers Agency #2) Online
Authors: E A Price
Tags: #Fiction, #Werewolves, #Werewolves & Shifters, #Shifter, #Romance, #Adult, #Erotic Romance Fiction, #Enforcer
For Your Paws Only
(Supernatural Enforcers Agency)
E A Price
Copyright ©2015 by Elizabeth Ann Price
All rights reserved. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Front cover
The image used to create the front cover have been deemed to be in the public domain, and available for reuse. No offense is meant in the use of it. It was was posted by Zoya, found on Pinterest at
http://www.pinterest.com/pin/502151427173654935/
(noted it was originally taken from
hurricane69.tumblr.com
Table of Contents
He watched as the SEA agents poured out of the bar. He sneered as the brutish polar bear shifter fawned over the human woman. It was enough to make him sick. Mixed species matings should be illegal. The half-breed children those two will make should be drowned at birth.
But he was getting off track. He wasn’t there for them. He was there for one reason – the wolf shifter currently skulking in the shadows like the coward he was.
Yes, the wolf would pay for what he had done, and when he was through, Cutter was going to wish he’d never been born.
He shook his head from side to side, trying to flick away the droplets of rain pattering onto his head. He shouldn’t be there. He’d been told to stay away, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to see him. He was a few years older and a few pounds lighter, it was definitely him.
Traitor
.
He froze as Cutter cocked his head on one side and sniffed the air. Maybe he was too close to his quarry. He had doused himself in scent muffling deodorant, but the fucking wolf was like a damn bloodhound. His body tensed as Cutter looked in his direction. As much as he wanted the wolf dead, it wouldn’t be tonight. He didn’t want to go head to head with the wolf with all his friends milling around determined to spoil the party.
A couple of raucous shifters tumbled out of the bar and distracted Cutter. He took the opportunity to slip away, ducking through the alleys.
A tramp – a hedgehog shifter - saw his approach and lifted a grubby hand. “Spare some change? Oof!”
He kicked the tramp in stomach and continued on his way. He reached his car and was about to get in when he heard the painfully mumbled words of the tramp.
“Stupid fucking wolf.”
He pulled off his jacket, threw it in the car and slammed the door shut. He usually preferred his meals to be a little cleaner, and hedgehog shifters weren’t his favorite, but he couldn’t allow disrespect to go unpunished.
He cracked his neck and turned to see the hedgehog looking directly at him. The tramp must have seen something in his eyes because his little face was awash with fear, and he started limping in the opposite direction.
He smiled as the little man scurried away – his first genuine smile in years. He did love it when his food played hard to get.
Maybe this was going to be more fun than he thought.
One week later - Monday
Cutter tried not to roll his eyes as the Director ranted about something or other. After half an hour, he’d stopped paying attention.
Everyone always said how cool, calm and collected the Director always was. And as a cold-blooded python shifter, that was probably usually true. The only exception seemed to be whenever Cutter was nearby. Yep, apparently the wolf shifter made the Director’s cold blood heat up to boiling point.
In Cutter’s defense, he hadn’t meant for the situation – that the Director seemed to be still chewing him out for - to turn into a hostage negotiation. That young bobcat shifter was stealing a grape jelly filled donut, and it warranted a show of force on Cutter’s end. How was Cutter to know that the young man would grab a nearby shopper and hold his claws to her throat?
“One week! One week Gunner has been gone, and already I have a dozen lawyers breathing down my neck about lawsuits. Not to mention what you did to the vending machine. Do you never learn from all the anger management courses we send you on?”
Cutter shifted in his seat and scowled at the loud fart-like noise the movement elicited. The Director kept the chair just to disconcert anyone sat in front of him! His wolf prowled, angrily demanding release.
Okay, so maybe ever since his team leader went on an extended honeymoon with his new bride, Erin, he had been overdoing things a little. But he was just trying to fill Gunner’s big, polar bear-sized shoes. He didn’t know how Gunner did it. The polar bear shifter could be equally as aggressive as Cutter and yet, for the most part, he seemed to avoid all the complaints and lawsuits that plagued Cutter.
It didn’t seem fair
.
As for the vending machine… Well, a flamingo shifter from archives was bitching, whining and kicking the machine after it ate his money. By shooting out the glass in a fit of rage, Cutter actually did the guy a favor – he got his candy bar!
The Director appeared to have stopped ranting and instead was staring at Cutter in exasperation. “Can you give me any good news about your cases?”
“Uhh…”
“The hedgehog shifter that was torn apart? Or how about the bride – that bird shifter – who was killed on her wedding day?”
He prickled defensively as his wolf snarled. “We’re working on it.”
They were working on it. It wasn’t his fault there were no witnesses, evidence or motives to speak of, in either case.
The Director clucked his tongue.
Jeez, apparently Cutter couldn’t do anything right.
“And just when are you going to have your physical done?” hissed the Director.
Cutter tensed, and his wolf whined. Yes, he’d been putting that off for a couple of months now.
“It’s way overdue,” snapped the Director. “I shouldn’t have to remind you, you’re not a child. And don’t give me any bullshit about being scared, just get your ass down to the medical bay – pronto.”
“Are we done?” ground out Cutter.
The Director grunted. “Yes, and I don’t want to hear your name again – not even a whisper – unless it’s good news. Understand?”
Cutter folded his arms, sulkily. “Yes.”
“You’re practically a ghost, get it?”
“Yes, yes, I get it!”
Cutter got up and stomped to the exit.
The Director called after him, “Don’t slam the…”
The rest of that sentence was cut off by the slamming door. Well, the Director was already mad – one slamming door couldn’t make it any worse.
He made his way to the elevator and pushed the button. Nothing happened. His wolf howled impatiently. He tried it again, and again and again until finally he was slamming his fist into it.
Suddenly, to the annoyance of his beast, he held up his hands and took a step back, breathing deeply. Anger wouldn’t solve anything. Getting mad and ripping out the control panel wouldn’t make him feel better. His wolf huffed, dubiously. Okay, momentarily, it would make him feel better, but, in the long run, it would only make everything worse.
He thought back to his anger management classes. He’d taken the course several times, always scraping a pass in the end, but he never seemed to be able to apply anything he learned there into the real world. He had an angry asshole for a wolf, and no amount of chanting ‘calm blue ocean’ and numerous trips to his imaginary ‘happy place’ could change that. For the most part, Cutter could deal with the raging animal within. But, some things really ground his gears, and he couldn’t hide how pissed he was.
He wasn’t actually angry about the elevator, no, of course not, it was everything that was currently going wrong with his life that caused him to want to take it out on the elevator.
Although, the fucking elevator still hadn’t arrived.
Piece of useless shit
. He took a couple more deep breaths and decided to take the stairs.
Cutter had been a member of the Alpha team at the Los Lobos section of the Supernatural Enforcers Agency for a few years. Previously, he had worked at the Ursa branch in Georgia, but after some
unpleasantness
, he had thought it prudent to get out of town. When his colleague and friend, Gunner was given a promotion to come to Los Lobos and head the Alpha team, Cutter followed.
Each team dealt with different kinds of cases pertaining to supernatural beings. Such as the Zeta team that dealt with missing persons, or the Gamma team that handled robberies. The Alpha team was assigned the worst cases – murders and rapes.
Although, Cutter couldn’t deny there were times when he lost his temper and acted just a little extreme, he had to admit that the job suited him. He got to hunt down monsters and drag them in by using force - if necessary.
What wasn’t there to like?
Of course, in a perfect world he’d prefer it if none of these monsters did any of the crazy things leading to their arrest – but, hey, the world was far from perfect.
At that moment, he just seemed to be having a small problem with dealing with the administrative side of the job.
Or rather, the bullshit
. Normally, Gunner dealt with the Director and things like who they were getting sued by and who was angry that there was a shoot-out in their living room. But now that it was Cutter’s responsibility… he didn’t like that one bit.
His wolf naturally had alpha tendencies, which is one reason why he chose to leave his pack at the age of 18 and join the army. Otherwise, he might have felt compelled to try and fight his two cousins and four older brothers to get to the alpha spot. Currently his uncle held the position, but there were plenty of other wolves keen to get their paws on it once he stepped down. Plus, his pack kind of insisted he leave and not come back until he learned a little more control. Sixteen years later and he still hadn’t returned.
However, Cutter’s alpha traits certainly didn’t extend toward diplomacy. He’d always thought that being in charge of the team, being the Alpha to a small group of other shifters was something he wanted and something that would suit him. But, now that he was, his contrary wolf still wasn’t happy. Not that much made him happy these days, no, man and beast were still at war over one prickly, little issue.
He bit back his annoyance as another SEA agent fell into step beside him. Diaz was a jaguar shifter and led the Beta team. He was also slimy and shifty, and Cutter couldn’t stand him.
Diaz smirked at him as he followed him into the stairwell. “Going down?”
“Obviously,” muttered Cutter, as he trudged down the stairs, heavily.
His wolf snarled as Diaz kept pace with him. Couldn’t the damn cat sense that he wanted to be alone? Wasn’t he giving off a strong enough ‘fuck off’ vibe?
“How are Gunner and Erin?” asked Diaz conversationally.
Cutter pursed his lips. It was a well-known fact around the SEA office – even if Erin refused to believe it – that Diaz had been actively trying to get into Erin’s panties, even after it became clear that she was dating Gunner. He wanted to punch the cat on Gunner’s behalf.
“The fuck should I know? They’re on their honeymoon.”
Who in their right mind would want to discuss work when they were trying to enjoy time alone with their mate?
Diaz nodded, completely unperturbed by Cutter’s murderous tone. “Sure, just looking forward to when Erin gets back, we all miss her.”
Cutter held back his wolf who wanted to let out an almighty growl. Originally, Erin had been assigned to the Alpha team. But after she and Gunner became an item, Erin requested a transfer, and to the ire of Gunner, she landed on Diaz’s team. Although it royally pissed off Gunner, and in a fit of solidarity Cutter was pissed off too, it wasn’t a big deal. Erin was the sweetest, most loyal woman he’d ever met. Well, no, that wasn’t true. His wolf simpered, and Cutter hushed him. Erin was only the second sweetest woman he ever met.
There was another who unequivocally held that title.
He shook his head; no, he couldn’t start thinking about
her
at that moment.
It took him a few seconds to realize that Diaz was still talking to him. He was blathering on about something or other, and Cutter would have zoned him out were it not for a couple of words that sent warning signals coursing through him. The words were nurse and hedgehog. His wolf bared his fangs, and he tuned back into the one-sided conversation.
“I think it’s kind of a waste of time, I mean, what do we need physicals for? We’re shifters; we heal ourselves,” babbled Diaz, completely unaware of the mounting fury of his audience. “I say we should just make the human employees get physicals – they’re the ones at risk of broken bones and disease.”
“You should refuse to go out of protest,” said Cutter, gruffly.
Diaz shrugged. “Yeah, I thought of that, and even hinted as much to the Director. He practically bit my head off. Besides, I hear that the hedgehog has really warm hands.”
Cutter felt his jaw crack with the effort of maintaining control. “I hear the bear shifter has hands like vises.”
The SEA had two nurses at their Los Lobos offices. Ostensibly, they were there in case anyone got sick, but given that the majority of the workforce was made up of shifters, vampires, and witches – who brewed their own tonics, they rarely did. Instead, they were there to perform the yearly physicals –
that were pretty pointless
– and to assist the medical examiner. The polar bear shifter nurse, a six-foot-two, no-nonsense, middle-aged she-bear called Helga, also performed massages. She was pretty good if you liked being pummeled. The other nurse – the five-foot-three hedgehog – spent most of her time helping the medical examiner. Although, they didn’t really have one at that time.
Their last medical examiner had gone a little crazy and had been killing people and harvesting their organs. It was a messy affair that everyone was trying to pretend didn’t happen. Currently, the previous medical examiner - a retired and extremely crotchety raccoon called Marvin – was filling in. He was, however, keen to get back to his fishing boat or golf game or something else retired men do, so a full-time replacement needed to be found and fast.
Diaz snorted. “Trust me, I know all about Helga’s healing hands. I once accidentally told her my shoulder ached after a tussle with a bull shifter. After half an hour with her, I was in agony for a week.”
The wolf shifter tried to hide his smile at that. It was wrong to feel pleased about other people’s pain.
Really it was
. Maybe he should tell Helga that Diaz had been complaining about leg pain, too.
“Besides, I’m sure I can persuade the hedgehog to do me.”
Cutter gave him a sidelong glance and noticed the jaguar shifter’s eyebrows were waggling up and down at an alarming rate.
“Whatever you say, man,” murmured Cutter ignoring the rumblings of his beast.
Diaz frowned at his reaction and, thankfully, fell silent for a few moments. It was a welcome reprieve. Whatever reaction Diaz was hoping to get from him, he wasn’t going to oblige.
The jaguar seemed to bounce back from his disappointment, with a resumed gleam in his eye. “Maybe I’ll ask her out, after my physical. By then she’ll already be impressed by my physique…”
“Or disappointed,” interjected Cutter, trying not to choke with a mixture of laughter and indignation.
“And she won’t be able to resist.”
“Or stop laughing,” sneered Cutter.
His wolf was yowling at the nerve of the cat to suppose anything about the hedgehog shifter. As if she would be swayed by such things as looks and muscles, she had far too much integrity. Besides, Cutter was even taller and more muscled than Diaz – there was no contest!
Diaz seemed completely unfazed. “She’s single, right?”
The cat gave him an almost innocent, questioning look. Cutter wanted to rip his head off. His beast pushed him to say no, pushed him to force this idiot male to drop his pathetic pursuit of the hedgehog, but he didn’t. Instead, he rolled his shoulders and said, “Nothing to fucking well do with me.”
“Yeah, she’s kind of pretty, nothing special, and I usually prefer tall women. She’s kind of small and dumpy.”