Page 25 of Paws and Claws

"I should go," she blurted, jumping to her feet. "It's late and I've got... things. Art things."

Dominic rose in one fluid motion. "I'll drive you."

"I can walk."

"At this hour? With Hunters in town?" His voice dropped to that commanding tone that made her knees weak. "Not happening."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes to hide how his protectiveness affected her. "But I better not get any lectures on the way home."

He led her through a side door into his garage, flicking on lights that revealed something completely unexpected - a cherry red 1967 Mustang, gleaming like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

"Holy shit." Tabitha circled the car, running her fingers along its pristine paint job. "Sheriff Stuffypants has a muscle car?"

"Everyone's allowed one vice." His lips curved into that dangerous half-smile.

The interior smelled of leather and something uniquely Dominic. She sank into the passenger seat, watching him slide behind the wheel with practiced ease. The engine purred to life, and she couldn't help but notice how natural he looked there - powerful, in control, and sexy as hell.

The drive was too short. When they pulled up to her house, Tabitha reached for the door handle, but Dominic's voice stopped her.

"Tabitha." His hand covered hers, warm and strong. "I won't let them hurt you. Whatever they're planning, whatever game they're playing - I'll keep you safe."

Her throat tightened. She wanted to make a joke, to brush it off like she always did, but the intensity in his green eyes made the words stick.

"My hero," she managed, but it came out softer than intended.

Maybe he was rigid and rule-bound, but there was something incredibly appealing about his unwavering sense of duty and his fierce protectiveness. It made her wild magic hum with awareness and made her wonder what it would be like to be the focus of all that intensity.

11

DOMINIC

The doorbell rang and sent a jolt through Dominic's chest. He smoothed down his blue button-up shirt and opened the door, his breath catching at the sight before him. Tabitha leaned against the doorframe, her cropped leather jacket hugging her curves and ripped black jeans clinging to her legs. The white t-shirt underneath her jacket showed just a hint of skin above her waistband.

"Are you going to let me in, or just stare all night?" she teased, a bright smile spreading across her face.

He stepped aside, clearing his throat. "I wasn't staring."

"Sure you weren't." She sauntered past him, her purple hair swishing across her shoulders. "The Underground is our first stop tonight. Like I mentioned, it's where people go when they don't want to be found."

"And the owners have issues with non-humans?"

"Exactly. Perfect spot for our Hunter friends to hang out." She turned and gave him a once-over, her nose wrinkling. "But you can't go looking like that. You scream 'cop' in that getup."

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Everything." She brushed past him to find his bedroom. "Come on, Sheriff. Time for a makeover."

"Absolutely not." But he followed her anyway, his protests dying as she flung open his closet doors.

"Don't you own anything that isn't pressed and starched?" She dug deeper, pushing hangers aside. "Ah! Here we go." She pulled out his leather jacket, the one he hadn't worn in quite a while.

"No."

"Yes." She tossed it at him. "And these." A pair of dark jeans followed. "With this." A black t-shirt hit him in the face.

"I'm not-"

"You want to blend in or not?" She planted her hands on her hips. "The Underground isn't exactly a button-up kind of place."

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