Page 21 of Paws and Claws

Something in his chest tightened as he watched her disappear inside. The evening suddenly felt empty without her constant commentary and challenging remarks. He shook his head, trying to clear it. This was ridiculous - she was a troublemaker, nothing more.

The next two days followed a similar pattern. They tracked Bruce through his mundane routines, crouching behind bushes and ducking around corners. Nothing suspicious emerged.

"You're breathing too loud," Tabitha whispered on their second afternoon, crouched behind a newspaper stand.

"I am not." His jaw clenched. "You're the one who keeps fidgeting."

"Well, maybe if someone hadn't insisted on being directly in the sun for the past hour-"

"Because that's where we have the best view-"

"Of what? Bruce buying his fifth cup of coffee?"

"At least I'm being professional about this."

Their voices rose steadily until Bruce glanced in their direction. Dominic yanked Tabitha further down just in time.

His heart pounded, partly from the near miss and partly from their proximity. Their faces were mere inches apart, her breath warm against his neck.

"That was close," she whispered.

"Too close." He stood up, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Since when did he lose his cool so easily? Fifteen years on the force and this witch had him acting like a rookie.

But there was something about her that got under his skin. She wasn't afraid to push back when he got too rigid and to call him out when he was being unreasonable. It was infuriating and... refreshing.

Dominic watched Bruce disappear into The Watering Hole later that night. The neon sign flickered against the darkening sky, its "Humans Only" subtext making his lion bristle beneath his skin.

"Ready to play pretend?" Tabitha's voice held an edge of challenge.

"Let's get this over with." He reached for the door, but she caught his arm.

"You look like you're about to arrest someone." She poked his chest. "Relax those shoulders. And try smiling for once."

Before he could respond, she grabbed his hand. Her fingers threaded through his, small and warm against his palm. His pulse jumped traitorously.

As they walked through the door, the bar assaulted his senses. Cigarette smoke mixed with cheap beer and greasy food. Bodies pressed together as music thumped through speakers. His enhanced hearing picked up snippets of conversation, most of them disparaging remarks about "those creatures."

Tabitha squeezed his hand. "Easy there, big guy. Your eyes are starting to glow."

He forced himself to breathe. To appear human. To ignore the urge to show these bigots exactly what kind of "creature" they were insulting.

"Dance with me," Tabitha said suddenly.

"What? No."

"Yes. We need to look natural." She tugged him toward the dance floor. "When was the last time you actually had any fun?"

"I have plenty of fun," he muttered, letting her lead him into the crowd.

"Paperwork doesn't count."

She turned around and faced him, still holding his hand as she swayed to the music. Her other hand settled on his chest, and his free hand automatically found her waist.

"See? Not so bad." She grinned up at him. "Though you're still moving like a robot."

"I don't dance much."

"You don't say." Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Let me guess - you don't date much either."

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