His eyes fastened on me. “Well, now,” he said in a smooth baritone, “Who do we have here? Hello,Mademoiselle.”
“Hello,” I replied, aware of a low growl from Matt as I examined the Satyr. He had small, curved horns almost hidden in a thick mop of brown hair, and a rather remarkable pair of equally brown eyes beneath shaggy brows. The trench coat covered him to mid-calf, but when I looked down, I detected a set of bare feet ending in two toes—not true toes—each toenail encased the end to form a hoof.
My eyes rose to his, and his widened. Then he raised his head as though sniffing the air. “You can see through my glamor,” he stated.
Cara looked from him to me. “Can you see his horns and hooves?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said.
She grinned at me. “Excellent. You see the real him. Hairy and horny.”
“Most consider metrès beau,” Jacques protested. “And when they see my—”
“I calls it like I sees it,” Cara interrupted. “And we aren’t here for you to drool over Anna. I believe you rang?”
He ripped his eyes off me and backed into the room, inviting us in with a gesture. As I walked past him, he inhaled again.
“You really are—quitedélicieuse,” he said in a throaty tone.
Matt shoved between him and me, and snarled.
“Sacré bleu!” Jacques’s eyes widened as he backed away.
Cara quietly stepped between them and scolded Jacques. “One of these days, I will not be here to save you from your own stupidity.”
“I did not realize—” he began.
“Because you are, as always, thinking with the wrong head,” Cara answered.
“Sont-ils ensemble?” he asked, looking between me and Matt.
“Take a look at his face”—Cara waved toward Matt—“and tell me I need to answer that.”
Jacques didn’t seem to be able to look away from me, he even swerved into the wall. Finally, he met Cara’s eyes. “If what you say is true—her genes have combined in interesting ways, for her to smell like she does.”
Smell? And what had Cara told him about me? I turned to her to ask, but just then our backwards, sideways, and staggered progress emptied us from the hall into the main living area.
A man awaited us there.
He was tall, almost as tall as Talakai, with the same incredibly broad shoulders and long hair, although his wasn’t shaved at the sides. And it gleamed with hints of metallic green in the overhead lighting.
As if that hadn’t already given the game away—my gaze slipped to his, and I wasn’t surprised to see the green irises with tiny whites showing around them. I didn’t need to interpret the bodysuit as scales to know he was a Dragon shifter.
Jacques gestured to us. “Haki,” he said, “meet Cara.” His eyes slid to me. “And this is Anna.”
My brows rose at the familiarity of his tone. Carahadbeen discussing me with him, then. Dammit.
“I’m Matt.” The big Dire was still glaring at Jacques. The Satyr took another step away from him.
I marched between them and shot Matt what I hoped was a stern look.
“Cut it out, Matt,” Cara said. “We have more important things to worry about than you and Jacques measuring dicks. And if you knew your Satyr lore, you wouldn’t engage in that particular contest.”
Jacques’s bushy eyebrows danced. “Well said, as always,ma chéri,”he stated ashe put the couch between him and the Dire.
Matt grumbled something barely audible. I thought it was about Dires being no slouches in that department. Having seen said equipment, I had to agree.
Cara ignored them both and turned to Haki. “So I assume you are why the message was labeled urgent?”
