breeder then why did you try to kill her?”
Morton regarded him as if he were particularly dense. “I didn’t try to kill her. I’ll admit that I devised a few obstacles to monitor her physical condition, but I would never permanently harm her.”
“Bastard,” Luc snarled, furious at the thought of Sophia being systematically terrorized by this psycho. “I know you were the one who shot at her. A silver bullet through the heart would have been very permanent.”
“I wasn’t shooting at her, you fool.” Morton smirked, clearly thinking that his peashooter gave him the upper hand. A mistake that Luc was eager to demonstrate. “I was aiming at you.”
Luc frowned, startled by the confession. “Me?”
“I had borrowed Victoria’s disguise amulet to follow Sophia to her club when you arrived in Chicago.” His expression hardened with disgust. “I knew from the way you were watching her that you were going to interfere with my plans.”
“What plans?”
“To capture Sophia and impregnate her with my litter.”
Any coherent thought was lost as a red mist descended over him, his beast beyond the point of no return.
“No way in hell,” he growled, his words nearly unintelligible.
Looking almost bored as Luc began to shift, Morton pointed the gun at the center of his chest.
“I just knew you were going to be trouble.”
Distantly Luc heard the pop of the gun and felt the dart plunge into his flesh, but, lost in his transformation, it was too late when he realized his muscles were slowly being paralyzed as the unknown substance began to flow through his blood.
Regarding the smug cur in horror, he realized he should have paid far more attention to his own warnings.
Looks truly were deceiving....
CHAPTER 8
S ophia was running late.
After reviewing the payroll and dealing with the linen service that had forgotten to bring their laundered tablecloths and napkins, she had been forced to soothe one of the waiters who had been insulted by the bartender and locate the key to the back freezer that had been lost.
At last she was able to settle in a chair to audition the Were who had traveled thousands of miles just to perform at her club.
Unfortunately, she struggled to concentrate.
It wasn’t that Jian wasn’t spectacular. He nearly set the stage on fire with his lean, muscular body that moved with a fluid grace that was amazing even by Were standards.
But tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, she realized she felt ... weird, unsettled.
She told herself that she was merely impatient to return home to Luc. He was bound to be finished with his golf match by now and waiting for her return.
Hopefully naked in her bed.
What woman wouldn’t be anxious to be done with work?
Counting down the minutes until she could politely bring the audition to a close, Sophia was startled when she caught a familiar scent.
Turning her head, she watched the crimson-haired imp dressed in a silver mesh shirt and black spandex cross the room to take the chair beside her, setting a leather briefcase at his feet.
“Mmm,” he moaned, his gaze drinking in the sight of the near-naked Were dancing on the stage. “Tasty.”
“Troy.” Sophia gave a lift of her brows. “Don’t you have your own business to run?”
“Yes, but the view isn’t nearly so nice.”
She reached to grab his chin, turning his fascinated attention in her direction.
“If you want to ogle the talent, you’re supposed to pay a cover charge.”
He pouted. “Is that any way to treat your bestest friend?”
“The last time I came to your coffee shop you charged me an arm and a leg for a cappuccino the size of a thimble,” she reminded him in dry tones.
“But I sprinkled it with my special fairy dust.”
“Special fairy dust, my ass,” she scoffed. “It was cinnamon.”
A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “Maybe.”
“I assume you have a reason for being here beyond trying to sneak a peek?”
The smile faded, leaving the
Morton regarded him as if he were particularly dense. “I didn’t try to kill her. I’ll admit that I devised a few obstacles to monitor her physical condition, but I would never permanently harm her.”
“Bastard,” Luc snarled, furious at the thought of Sophia being systematically terrorized by this psycho. “I know you were the one who shot at her. A silver bullet through the heart would have been very permanent.”
“I wasn’t shooting at her, you fool.” Morton smirked, clearly thinking that his peashooter gave him the upper hand. A mistake that Luc was eager to demonstrate. “I was aiming at you.”
Luc frowned, startled by the confession. “Me?”
“I had borrowed Victoria’s disguise amulet to follow Sophia to her club when you arrived in Chicago.” His expression hardened with disgust. “I knew from the way you were watching her that you were going to interfere with my plans.”
“What plans?”
“To capture Sophia and impregnate her with my litter.”
Any coherent thought was lost as a red mist descended over him, his beast beyond the point of no return.
“No way in hell,” he growled, his words nearly unintelligible.
Looking almost bored as Luc began to shift, Morton pointed the gun at the center of his chest.
“I just knew you were going to be trouble.”
Distantly Luc heard the pop of the gun and felt the dart plunge into his flesh, but, lost in his transformation, it was too late when he realized his muscles were slowly being paralyzed as the unknown substance began to flow through his blood.
Regarding the smug cur in horror, he realized he should have paid far more attention to his own warnings.
Looks truly were deceiving....
CHAPTER 8
S ophia was running late.
After reviewing the payroll and dealing with the linen service that had forgotten to bring their laundered tablecloths and napkins, she had been forced to soothe one of the waiters who had been insulted by the bartender and locate the key to the back freezer that had been lost.
At last she was able to settle in a chair to audition the Were who had traveled thousands of miles just to perform at her club.
Unfortunately, she struggled to concentrate.
It wasn’t that Jian wasn’t spectacular. He nearly set the stage on fire with his lean, muscular body that moved with a fluid grace that was amazing even by Were standards.
But tapping a finger on the arm of her chair, she realized she felt ... weird, unsettled.
She told herself that she was merely impatient to return home to Luc. He was bound to be finished with his golf match by now and waiting for her return.
Hopefully naked in her bed.
What woman wouldn’t be anxious to be done with work?
Counting down the minutes until she could politely bring the audition to a close, Sophia was startled when she caught a familiar scent.
Turning her head, she watched the crimson-haired imp dressed in a silver mesh shirt and black spandex cross the room to take the chair beside her, setting a leather briefcase at his feet.
“Mmm,” he moaned, his gaze drinking in the sight of the near-naked Were dancing on the stage. “Tasty.”
“Troy.” Sophia gave a lift of her brows. “Don’t you have your own business to run?”
“Yes, but the view isn’t nearly so nice.”
She reached to grab his chin, turning his fascinated attention in her direction.
“If you want to ogle the talent, you’re supposed to pay a cover charge.”
He pouted. “Is that any way to treat your bestest friend?”
“The last time I came to your coffee shop you charged me an arm and a leg for a cappuccino the size of a thimble,” she reminded him in dry tones.
“But I sprinkled it with my special fairy dust.”
“Special fairy dust, my ass,” she scoffed. “It was cinnamon.”
A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. “Maybe.”
“I assume you have a reason for being here beyond trying to sneak a peek?”
The smile faded, leaving the
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