Big Bad Beast
Page 21
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Luring girls in with his supermodel looks, sexy body, polite ways, and damn waffles!
Are we okay? he asked, and she hated him a little for making her want to ease his worry.
Yeah. Were okay.
Good. Ill talk to you later. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek, taking Dee completely by surprise because hed never done that before. He kissed his female friends all the time, like Teacup and Gwen, but Dee usually just got a little pat on the shoulder or back.
Before she did something weird like analyze what a kiss on the cheek from Ulrich Van Holtz meant, she simply walked away.
Once she was outside, she realized that she didnt want to take the long trip home. Especially since the cabbies would never take her all the way to her apartment. God, when was the last time shed been at her apartment anyway? It didnt matter. Shed go stay with Rory. Maybe shed get to toss another full-human female out on her ass. Much to her private shame, she enjoyed doing that sort of thing way too much.
CHAPTER 6
C offee! Coffee! Coffee! Dez MacDermott barked until Cella Malone handed her the Starbucks cup.
Once she had several sips, she smiled at the taller female and said, Thanks.
Are you like this every morning?
Not a morning person until I get the coffee.
Then maybe you should have coffee before you come to meet us.
I would have, but my fuck session with Mace this morning lasted longer than I thought it would, and then I had to shower, walk the dogs because Mace was all, Theyre not my dogs and I was all, Fuck you, were married, they are your dogs and then I had to feed the baby and he was all fussy and clawing and then I had to feed Marcus, who was busy imitating his father by being all fussy and clawing.
Wow, the She-tiger said. You really needed that coffee. And kind of deserved it.
Thats my feeling.
Dee-Ann walked up to them and now that Dez had her coffee, she greeted her with a cheery,
Hey, Dee-Ann!
Am I intimidating?
Since Dez had bent back to nearly a U-shape because Dee was all up in her grill, Dez decided to lie. Of course not.
Its your freak eyes, Cella told Dee-Ann while she buffed her dark-red painted nails and popped gum. Dee always wondered if that was a skill taught in all Long Island high schools. Like in Home Ec or something.
My freak eyes?
Yeah. Theyre freaky.
My eyes are not freaky. I got my daddys eyes.
Heard his eyes are freaky, too.
Dez quickly stepped between the two females. Something Mace had made her promise not to do from the moment hedheard about this new assignment.
My eyes, Dee-Ann said over Dezs head, are the same color as yours.
They are so not the same color as mine. My eyes are a beautiful, feline gold with a touch of green for mystery. Your eyes are a direct, blunt canine yellow. She pointed to a pitbull tied up to a fire hydrant outside the caf. Like his.
Youre comparing me to a pitbull?
No. I find pitbulls sweet and cuddly and misused by man. You . . . not so much. Except maybe the misused part.
Ladies, Dez cut in, desperate. Can we please get to work? Dee-Ann held up several sheets of paper. A list of fight locations that are owned by our own kind with addresses.
Great. I have a list, too, Dez said, patting her backpack. I had Mace take a look at them, see if he recognized anyone or had any juicy gossip.
Oooh, Cella cheered, eyes gleaming. Anything really good?
As a matter of fact, you will not believe what he told me about Lattie Harlow of the Harlow Pride out of Queens
Work, Dee-Ann pushed. More work, less bullshit.
Cella snapped her gum. Fine, Working Dog. She snatched the pages out of Dee-Anns hand.
Lets get to work. Especially since I have an exhibition game tonight with the Carnivores. With one more snap and pop of her gum, Cella walked out.
Dont let her get to you, Dee-Ann. Dez told Dee.
Im not. And maybe I can handle a couple of the interviews.
Or, Dez hastily countered, you can start off with basic questions.
What do you mean?
Id like to hit public records before we see these people directly. See if theres anything else there.
Okay, but what does that have to do with me
If you can handle public servants, Dee-Ann, you can handle interviewing anybody. As a cop . . . I know this.
Dee-Ann grunted in reply and walked out, and Dez went back to the counter and ordered herself two more cups of coffee. Because she knew this was going to be a really long day.
It was a busy, midweek lunch rush and Rics kitchen was one dropped pan away from being in the weeds. Thankfully, theyd managed to avoid that and keep the food going out as quickly as possible without any major errors that would have his head exploding and him ripping into one of his crew.
He slammed two plates down on the board. Table ten up! he called out and spun toward his oven, but stopped short when he scented one of his own through all those meats, herbs, blood, and other breeds.
Are we okay? he asked, and she hated him a little for making her want to ease his worry.
Yeah. Were okay.
Good. Ill talk to you later. Then he leaned in and kissed her cheek, taking Dee completely by surprise because hed never done that before. He kissed his female friends all the time, like Teacup and Gwen, but Dee usually just got a little pat on the shoulder or back.
Before she did something weird like analyze what a kiss on the cheek from Ulrich Van Holtz meant, she simply walked away.
Once she was outside, she realized that she didnt want to take the long trip home. Especially since the cabbies would never take her all the way to her apartment. God, when was the last time shed been at her apartment anyway? It didnt matter. Shed go stay with Rory. Maybe shed get to toss another full-human female out on her ass. Much to her private shame, she enjoyed doing that sort of thing way too much.
CHAPTER 6
C offee! Coffee! Coffee! Dez MacDermott barked until Cella Malone handed her the Starbucks cup.
Once she had several sips, she smiled at the taller female and said, Thanks.
Are you like this every morning?
Not a morning person until I get the coffee.
Then maybe you should have coffee before you come to meet us.
I would have, but my fuck session with Mace this morning lasted longer than I thought it would, and then I had to shower, walk the dogs because Mace was all, Theyre not my dogs and I was all, Fuck you, were married, they are your dogs and then I had to feed the baby and he was all fussy and clawing and then I had to feed Marcus, who was busy imitating his father by being all fussy and clawing.
Wow, the She-tiger said. You really needed that coffee. And kind of deserved it.
Thats my feeling.
Dee-Ann walked up to them and now that Dez had her coffee, she greeted her with a cheery,
Hey, Dee-Ann!
Am I intimidating?
Since Dez had bent back to nearly a U-shape because Dee was all up in her grill, Dez decided to lie. Of course not.
Its your freak eyes, Cella told Dee-Ann while she buffed her dark-red painted nails and popped gum. Dee always wondered if that was a skill taught in all Long Island high schools. Like in Home Ec or something.
My freak eyes?
Yeah. Theyre freaky.
My eyes are not freaky. I got my daddys eyes.
Heard his eyes are freaky, too.
Dez quickly stepped between the two females. Something Mace had made her promise not to do from the moment hedheard about this new assignment.
My eyes, Dee-Ann said over Dezs head, are the same color as yours.
They are so not the same color as mine. My eyes are a beautiful, feline gold with a touch of green for mystery. Your eyes are a direct, blunt canine yellow. She pointed to a pitbull tied up to a fire hydrant outside the caf. Like his.
Youre comparing me to a pitbull?
No. I find pitbulls sweet and cuddly and misused by man. You . . . not so much. Except maybe the misused part.
Ladies, Dez cut in, desperate. Can we please get to work? Dee-Ann held up several sheets of paper. A list of fight locations that are owned by our own kind with addresses.
Great. I have a list, too, Dez said, patting her backpack. I had Mace take a look at them, see if he recognized anyone or had any juicy gossip.
Oooh, Cella cheered, eyes gleaming. Anything really good?
As a matter of fact, you will not believe what he told me about Lattie Harlow of the Harlow Pride out of Queens
Work, Dee-Ann pushed. More work, less bullshit.
Cella snapped her gum. Fine, Working Dog. She snatched the pages out of Dee-Anns hand.
Lets get to work. Especially since I have an exhibition game tonight with the Carnivores. With one more snap and pop of her gum, Cella walked out.
Dont let her get to you, Dee-Ann. Dez told Dee.
Im not. And maybe I can handle a couple of the interviews.
Or, Dez hastily countered, you can start off with basic questions.
What do you mean?
Id like to hit public records before we see these people directly. See if theres anything else there.
Okay, but what does that have to do with me
If you can handle public servants, Dee-Ann, you can handle interviewing anybody. As a cop . . . I know this.
Dee-Ann grunted in reply and walked out, and Dez went back to the counter and ordered herself two more cups of coffee. Because she knew this was going to be a really long day.
It was a busy, midweek lunch rush and Rics kitchen was one dropped pan away from being in the weeds. Thankfully, theyd managed to avoid that and keep the food going out as quickly as possible without any major errors that would have his head exploding and him ripping into one of his crew.
He slammed two plates down on the board. Table ten up! he called out and spun toward his oven, but stopped short when he scented one of his own through all those meats, herbs, blood, and other breeds.
