with the gossamer laces that wrapped up her ankle and put on one of those. Kicking out her feet, one still wearing the blue shoe, the other in the lace-up sandal, she squealed.
“I take it you are pleased,” Kir said as he landed on the top of the stairs that opened into the attic bedroom. He strode over. “I ordered in some food. I’m starving.”
“Me, too. And, yes, I am pleased with all my goodies. You like?”
“The whole look?” His eyes danced over her attire: skull shirt, pink panties and mismatched shoes. “I don’t think you should be caught on the streets in that getup, but it works for me.”
“I bet I know which part of this outfit you like the best.” Bea rolled onto her palms and knees and wiggled her derriere at him.
The wolf lost his footing against the mirror and had to catch himself in an awkward save.
“I don’t understand why mortals like to wear a string between their butt cheeks, though. It’s uncomfortable.” She tugged off the panties and flung them toward Kir.
He caught them and crushed the pink fabric in a fist. “So, that’s what it takes to make you happy? Pretty shoes and sparkling jewels?”
She dangled a fine silver chain before her, deciding she could weave that into her hair later. “Mostly. Though I have to be careful with mortal metals like this. Can’t wear it for too long without getting a rash.”
“You’re easy.” He crossed his arms and brought the panties to his nose. “Mmm...”
“I know what it takes to make my wolfie husband happy, too.”
He looked at the panties, as if realizing what he’d been doing, then shoved them in his pants pocket. “There is that. But isn’t there anything else?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like something you want to do. To aspire to? What would make you happy beyond the material things?”
“Wow. Heavy conversation much?”
He shrugged and sat on the corner of the bed and toyed with a tuft of purple fringe on one of the dresses. “I have my work, and that, to me, is satisfying. You’re new to the mortal realm and have much to learn and discover, but I have to wonder if there wasn’t something you used to do in Faery, or dream about, that you still aspire to?”
“Huh.” Leaning forward to toy with the glossy leather toe of the blue shoe, Bea mulled over how keen the wolf was to learn about her. And here she’d thought him only capable of sex and howling. Not that either were offensive...
Could she tell him? She didn’t trust him yet. They’d known each other only a few days. But he was her one friend here in this strange and wondrous realm. And he was much nicer than she’d initially thought him to be—though, in principle, she still hated him. “I do aspire to something.”
“Great. Tell me?”
“You first. Tell me about this job of yours.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you do? I mean, I always thought wolves ran in packs and that was their family, and...well, what else is there to do?”
“In the mortal realm we need to hold jobs to make money so we can survive.”
“Sounds tedious.”
“I suppose being royalty you’re not familiar with the concept of work.”
“Nope. Should I be?”
He chuckled and that sexy crinkle at the corner of his eyes drew Bea’s attention like an arrow to a target. She’d kiss him there if he were a little closer.
“You don’t have to work, Bea. I’ll take care of you. That was an implied promise I made with our marriage vows.” He studied his hand, the one with the bonding mark that faintly showed against his lightly tanned skin. “Pack Valoir was chosen by the Council to be enforcers a couple years ago. The Council is a sort of governing body made up from all paranormal breeds. So my job description is an enforcer.”
“So that’s what, like, wolf cops?”
“Sort of. Like I said before, we police the packs in Paris and the surrounding area. Mainly we focus on controlling the blood games, trying to keep them minimal. I’d love to stop them completely, but that’ll never happen.”
“Is that where the wolves pit vampires against one another to the death?” she asked eagerly.
“Yes.” He narrowed a brow on her. “I’m sensing far too much curiosity in your tone. Don’t tell me you’d actually watch such a match.”
“Uh...” Apparently, a bloody good match did not appeal to her new husband. It had been a great way to pass the time in Faery, watching the trolls beat the rock-shifters to a dusty pulp. “No. ’Course not.”
She’d best not tell him about the kelpie matches that had entertained the court on many occasions. She had made a pretty mint betting on those fights. She did have her talents.
“Bloody fights? Ugh.” She screwed her mouth into a distasteful moue. “That’s nasty stuff.”
“It is. As well, we keep an eye on all irregular activity among the local packs. I’ve a new case that landed on my desk. It’s a strange one. Vamps who have escaped from the packs’ clutches are dying. In strange ways. Lots of investigating in the coming days, I’m sure.”
“Sounds boring. Except the part where you might have to break up a fight.”
“Admit it. You love a good fight.”
“For the right reasons.”
“When is fighting ever for a good reason?”
“When it’s to protect yourself from the stupidity of others,” she said without thinking. “Just because a person is different doesn’t mean it’s okay to beat on them.”
Kir tilted such a concerned gaze on her that Bea had to think about what she’d just said. Oops. That had revealed a little more than she’d intended. She didn’t trust him that much. Time to redirect this conversation.
“So let me guess, you must have some kind of record book on all the wolves, eh? A means to find out information about them?”
“We do, but it’s not a book. Our files are digital. The database is vast and covers other species, as well. We recently managed to tap into the Order of the Stake’s computer database and downloaded their files before they could put up a firewall.”
“Everything you said sounded like gobbledygook to me. And I tend to like gobbledygook. So long as it’s warm.”
Kir stood and paced to the triangular window sized as large as the wall that looked out over the front yard and the street below.
“Let’s just say we can look up info on pretty much any paranormal species within Europe and the outlying countries. Comes in handy when we need to crack a case.”
