Page 15 of Love, Rekindled

“But it is important?” Bertha pressed.

“It is important to Chiron,” he conceded. “Which means, I must complete my mission before I can return home.”

“It sounds as if you will need my help.”

“Umm…” Levet cleared his throat, attempting to find the proper way to send his relative on her way. Granted, Bertha was the only family member he liked, but she was notoriously accident-prone. It had been Bertha who’d caused the great fire of London, and while Levet couldn’t prove anything, he suspected she might have brought an end to the dinosaurs. “Actually, I’m more of a lone wolf.”

She frowned. “Is that what your mother told you?” She tsked. “Dreadful female.” She leaned down, speaking slowly. “You’re not a wolf. Just a very small gargoyle.”

Levet waved his hands in a gesture of impatience. “I mean that I work alone.”

“So do I. We should make perfect partners.” Bertha pressed her hands together. “What is the mission?”

Levet heaved a sigh. Arguing with Bertha was like trying to teach a vampire manners. Futile.

“I am searching for the manager of the Dreamscape Resort.”

“Ah. Is there a reward?”

Levet made a sound of disgust. For the past few years, he’d been an official Knight in Shining Armor, or a KISA as he preferred to be called. Which meant he was constantly being asked to put himself in danger and then tossed aside when his skills were no longer useful.

“There is never a reward.”

“Then why are we doing this?”

“I’m not entirely certain,” Levet muttered, turning back to the street that was beginning to clear of tourists. It was a reminder that the night was swiftly passing.

It wouldn’t be long until dawn arrived, and he would be forced to seek shelter.

“Good enough for me,” Bertha fell into step beside him, her barely-there wings fluttering in anticipation. “What does she smell like?”

“Lotus.”

Bertha sucked in a deep breath, her eyes widening in surprise. “A vampire.” She sniffed again. “A female vampire.”

“Oui.”

They traced the scent in silence. Levet didn’t want to explain how he’d somehow become the minion of a bunch of leeches. Not that he was an actual minion, he silently reassured himself. But…

“Hey, baby.” Without warning, three curs appeared in front of them. Curs didn’t possess the strength of pureblooded Weres, but they could be dangerous in packs. The largest of the males stepped forward, clearly the alpha. He was over six feet with bulging muscles beneath his too-tight t-shirt and jeans. His head was shaved, and he had a wide leather strap around his neck like a dog collar. He took another step, towering over Bertha. “I’m talking to you.”

Bertha glanced around before returning her gaze to the cur. “Me?”

“Yeah, you.” The cur shoved his hips forward, pointing toward his crotch. “You want some of this?”

“Okay.”

Without warning, Bertha reached out to grab his dangly bits, squeezing hard enough to make the male’s eyes cross, and a whimper escape his lips. Then, as if unaware of the damage she inflicted, Bertha twisted the flesh clutched in her hand, sending the male to his knees.

“Hey!”

The two curs standing behind the alpha leaped forward. With a muttered curse, Levet waddled to stand next to his aunt. He couldn’t watch her be mauled and not try to help. Could he?

Perhaps sensing his movement, she turned to face him, the translucent wings whacking the charging curs with enough force to send them sprawling flat on their backs.

“Oops.” She turned back. “Sorry.” She scurried to bend over the closest cur. At the same time, he tried to sit up. Their foreheads smacked together, the sound of the impact echoing like the strike of a gong. The cur groaned, flopping back onto the sidewalk, blood dripping from his busted head. “Sorry,” she said again, then turned toward the other cur, holding out her hand. The male whimpered and crab-walked down the sidewalk to escape her assistance.

She glanced back at Levet. “Well, that was rude.”

---