“I hear you’re our tour guide for the night.” He kept his smile movie star bright. “Lead the way.”
The squirrel stroked its paw down his cheek, and somehow he didn’t flinch.
“You’re cute.” She winked at him. “Big and muscly. Just the way I like ’em.”
“What did you want to show us?” Asa kept a hand tucked in his pocket, a clear threat. “We don’t have much time.”
“The night is young.” She curled her tail around Clay’s neck. “Let’s not rush, shall we?”
About to toss my cookies, which took a heck of a lot, I jerked my chin to set Clay walking.
“My partners,” he began, “mentioned you have a rogue on your hands.”
“Partners as in work?” She bit her lower lip. “Or partners as in play?”
Unsure how Clay would react, I was seconds from telling her we three were in a deeply committed relationship to rescue him from her clutches. I doubt Asa would have fussed much. He had to be just as creeped out as me.
A flash of amusement twinkled in Clay’s eyes, and I got the uncomfortable idea he was enjoying this.
Between his ex and the naked pyramid witches, he had taken hits to his confidence, but a squirrel?
Even if she took a human form, she would be wearing dead—
Nope.
Not going there.
Not thinking about it.
Clay was a grown man who could handle himself.
And I was a grown woman willing to handle him right back into our SUV if he got that desperate for companionship.
“What did you want to show us?” Asa repeated, flexing his hand in time with his steps.
After our trip to the beach, he could have had any number of tiny items in his pocket for her to count.
“Ugh.” The squirrel darted down the front of Clay’s body and shot off in the dark. “Come on, losers.”
We followed the bushy tail until Jilo skidded to a halt outside a cemetery.
A slight twitch on my head announced Colby had gone lax, her legs sprawled in my hair to hold on while she slept. That she was napping through an opportunity to examine a boo hag told me she still wasn’t back to her usual self, and that worry distracted me.
“We can’t have children.” Jilo rubbed her paws up her arms. “That’s why our faction is dying.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.” Clay beat me to the platitudes. “On both counts.”
“We’re predators of a bygone era,” she lamented. “There shouldn’t be more of us. We can’t support a larger grume than the one we have without drawing the kind of attention that brought you to us. But, sometimes, one of us lingers in a role and gets ideas.”
“Play human too long,” I guessed, “and you start to dream human dreams?”
A husband. A home. A child.
“The dream is enough for most.” Jilo’s tail drooped slowly. “They target husbands and play wife. Or wives and play husband. Or mothers and play with the children until…”
“…the wrapper expires?”
“Wrapper?” She had the grace to wince at my word choice. “Yeah.” She fidgeted. “It’s not healthy.”