Page 24 of Paws and Claws

The look he gave her was different from his usual disapproving stare. Something warmer, almost appreciative. "Then let's make sure they regret ever setting foot in it."

Tabitha set her coffee mug down. "The bar has to have security footage of Bruce meeting with an actual Hunter. That's more than enough to nail him."

"It's not that simple," Dominic said. "One meeting isn't enough to prove conspiracy."

"Are you kidding me?" Her magic crackled and the lights flickered again. "He's working with people who want to hurt everyone in this town. Your town, remember?"

"Which is exactly why we need to be smart about this." He leaned forward, his shirt stretching across his broad chest. "If we move too quickly, we'll only get Bruce. The Hunters will disappear, regroup, and come back stronger."

She stood up, pacing across his immaculate living room. Her boots left slight scuff marks on his pristine hardwood floor. "More people could get hurt while we wait."

"I won't let that happen." The growl in his voice made her pause. When she turned, his eyes had that predatory gleam that reminded her he wasn't just some rule-follower. "Trust me."

"Trust you?" She laughed, but it came out shakier than intended. "The guy who's given me how many tickets?"

"All of which you deserved." He stood, closing the distance between them. "But have I ever been unfair?"

She wanted to say yes but couldn't. Despite everything, Dominic had always been frustratingly fair.

"Fine." She jabbed a finger at his chest. "One month. If we don't catch them red-handed in one month, we do this my way."

His lips twitched. "Giving me deadlines now?"

His fingers wrapped around her hand, his grip warm and gentle. Her magic sparked beneath her skin at the contact.

"I accept your deadline," he said, his voice a low rumble that made her stomach flip. "And your help."

Tabitha's heart thundered against her ribs. She pulled her hand away, trying to ignore how cold it felt without his touch, and settled back onto his couch. The leather cushions creaked as he sat beside her, close enough that his thigh brushed against hers.

"So," she said, focusing on anything but the heat radiating from him, "the Hunters need somewhere to lay low. Somewhere public enough not to draw attention."

"Makes sense." His shoulder pressed against hers as he leaned back. "Any ideas?"

"A few places come to mind." She twisted a strand of purple hair around her finger. "The Red Door downtown - they're not exactly picky about their clientele. The Rusty Nail too, though that place is more shifter territory."

"You seem to know a lot about the seedier side of town."

"Don't act so surprised." She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Some of us actually know how to have a good time."

His lips curved into that rare half-smile that always made her magic dance. "Is that what you call it?"

"Better than alphabetizing case files on a Friday night."

"I organize them by date, actually."

The scent of his cologne wrapped around her, woodsy and masculine. Combined with the warmth of his body and the way his voice had dropped to that deep, intimate tone, it was making it hard to concentrate.

"We should check The Underground first," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's perfect for people who don't want to be found."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Maybe." She turned to face him and found his face much closer than expected. His eyes were dark and intense, fixed on her with a predatory focus that made her breath catch. "I might have hidden there once or twice when someone was being particularly persistent about giving me a ticket."

"Is that so?" His arm stretched along the back of the couch, not quite touching her but close enough that she could feel it. "Should I add that to your file?"

The air between them felt electric, charged with something that wasn’t due to her wild magic. His eyes dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second before snapping back up.

Tabitha's heart hammered in her chest as she stared back at him. The warm light from his lamp caught the sharp angles of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, and suddenly she couldn't think straight. When had the uptight sheriff become so damn attractive? Her magic tingled, urging her to lean in, to find out if those lips were as soft as they looked.

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