Page 6 of Catnip

They’d made it to a small inn at the other end oftown.

Shifting back, Vivicia pointed to the oldbuilding.

“There.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m allergic tolavender.”

He lifted a brow. It wasn’t usual for shifters to have allergies, food intolerances, or anything like that, but it happened, especially to half-breeds. Perhaps one of Vivicia’s parents was a regular. He didn’t ask. Prying wasn’t in hisnature.

Coveney walked into the lobby of the inn, and was greeted by a man in his mid-thirties. The place seemed clean, although the decor left a lot to be desired. Taking it all in at a glance, his tiger bared his teeth at the idea of the bird staying there. It wasn’t too bad, but it was no place for a shifter. They needed space. They needed a territory to call theirown.

“You have a woman staying here,” he said, leaving it at that, because he didn’t know any more abouther.

He should have looked at her damnapplication.

The man shifteduncomfortably.

“Our guest’s privacy…” hestarted.

Coveney placed both of his elbows on the counter and leanedforward.

Three, two,one…

“There’s only one at the moment. Second floor, the first door on theright.”

Vivicia chuckled as she walked right behind him. “Regulars.” He could practically hear her roll her eyes. “What was that girl thinking, though? He could have given her location to just aboutanyone.”

Coveney’s generally well-behaved tiger growled in warning. He’d already thought of that; spelling it out wasn’t doing anyone anyfavors.

As they approached, his own sense of smell picked up the trail. His steps got faster and faster because, along with olive and lavender, he got blood, and something else, something that made him want towretch.

Shit. He hadn’t been wrong. She’d been hit, and poisoned,too.

The room the innkeeper directed him to wasn’t even closed, let alone locked; the door was slightly ajar, as though someone had gotten out in a hurry. He leaped and pushed it, his mind coming up with a thousand different ways how he might have screwed up and arrived toolate.

He stopped dead at the door, as he took in his eagle in her human shell. Someone might as well have punchedhim.

He didn’t know why. He hadn’t given much thought as to what she looked like. It didn’t matter. He owed her a favor and that meant she wasn’t going to die today. No other motivation had movedhim.

Coveney was screwed ten different ways, because the woman was pretty much fucking dying, and his damn cock didn’t fucking care; it stirred, twitching in hispants.

Her long, layered hair fell in soft waves around her, and her soft, plump mouth breathed shallow breaths that should have alarmed him, not made him want to touch it. She wasn’t wearing much - just shorts, and an open jacket. It shouldn’t have mattered, nudity was natural to shifters. But it fucking did. He couldn’t stop staring at her damnbreasts.

“You’re not dying,” he said simply, because she didn’t have a fucking choice in the mattertoday.

Orever.

Stranger

He was pretty.So pretty from up close. He had long, long lashes and dark eyes; wavy blond hair like an Adonis. He smelled like wood, Muscat, andsin.

How come she was seeing Coveney close enough for her to smell himnow?

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please don’tbe…

“Arrrrg!” she yelled, waking up to her flesh burningher.

She definitely wasn’t dead, because death wasn’t supposed to hurt so much. Unless she’d been sent topurgatory.

“What thehell!”

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