Zach sighed and headed for the house. He had a phone call to make. The next twenty-four hours promised to be brutal.
Somehow, he didn’t think he’d be making it to work.
* * *
Jessie sat at her kitchen table and argued with a werewolf.
At least, she thought Kade was a werewolf. She actually hadn’t had the courage to ask him.
“I am not going anywhere with you,” Jessie repeated.
“I can’t protect you here,” Kade insisted. He was in the act of nailing a piece of plywood across what was left of her back door.
“We need to call the police.”
“We will do that, yes. And tell them that you are staying with a friend.” He bent down to nail the lower half. The act stretched the floral print pants beyond the edge of reason. Jessie found herself ogling. The man had a seriously sculpted butt.
What the living hell was wrong with her? Jessie cleared her throat and looked away. “But we have proof of what’s coming after me,” she pointed out. She referred to the bloody body lying at the foot of her stairs, a torn-up heap of teeth and claws and fur.
Lots of fur. Kade had carefully bagged the fluff that had fallen off of him. Being a werewolf was seriously messy.
“The police can’t be allowed to see the body.” Kade straightened and turned to fix her with a scowl. He hadn’t appeared amused the first and second times she’d suggested it, either. Which had been while he boarded up her bedroom window.
“Why not?” she asked. Again.
This time he sighed and answered. “Because humans cannot know of us. Secrecy has kept us safe for thousands of years.”
“See, I think that’s your effing problem. These bastards wouldn’t get away with kidnapping women if people knew about them.”
“This wasn’t about kidnapping,” he said through gritted teeth. “And how do you think humans would react if they knew werewolves were real?”
Her mind skittered over the first part to fasten on the bit she understood. “They’d find ways to deal with them.”
His eyes flashed gold. “Not all Weres are bad. Most are good people. How would human society handle them?”
Jessie stared at him. Humans had a hard enough time with minor differences like skin color and culture. But creatures that spent part of their time as animals?
He was watching her expression closely. “They would exterminate us. Have tried to, in some cases. Every time they found out about Cryptids, we died.”
“Cryptids?” she asked.
“It’s what we’re called. Includes those who look human. And those who look more animal. We Weres are in a class all our own.” He put the hammer on the table and surveyed his handiwork.
Someone knocked on the front door, and Jessie jumped.
“It’s okay,” Kade said. “That’ll be Cara.”
“Who is Cara?”
“A friend I called.”
Called? No way he had a phone hidden on him. Her gaze ran over him and then fell to her phone on the table.
He shrugged. “It was there.”
She’d only been gone for a moment to the washroom. “You”—she lowered her brows—“are one damned sneaky guy.”
The comment seemed to please him. At least, his lips quirked as he vanished toward the front of the house. His voice rumbled as he spoke. Jessie heard snippets, something about a farm, and a name. Willow? When Kade finally reappeared, his shaggy brows were drawn low over his eyes. With him was a tiny woman, maybe five foot two.
