Chapter Thirty-Seven
Cujo
Acacophony of barks and snarls rouses me from a deep sleep. My body locks, refusing to startle awake. I slowly peel my eyes open, waiting to see Willow’s demon dog staring at me, foaming at the mouth, ready to rip out my throat. But surprisingly, he’s not glaring at me as expected.
No, the sound is coming from outside her nest, probably closer to the front of the house.
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, bringing me fully alert, and I glance toward Gy and Willow.
My VP’s eyes are open, and he’s holding our omega protectively against his chest. Although he is a decent fighter, I’m better, so if anyone’s going out there, it’s me.
Not wanting to wake the slumbering omega, I roll to my knees and point at the hidden door to the secret nest. We cracked it open, in case somebody had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and I’m thankful for it now.
I’m going to check it out, I silently communicate, and he seems to know exactly what I mean.
As quietly as possible, I crawl from the nest, then through the small opening. I glance at the mechanism, wanting to shut and lock the safe room, but there’s no time to figure it out when Bruce releases a violent bark.
An assailant would need to get through me to reach them anyway. Not. Happening.
My thick cock swings between my legs as I drop to the floor, feeling around for my boot. It’s dark as hell, but I manage to find it and pull out my ballistic knife. Gy didn’t want me packing heat on our date, but I couldn’t leave everything behind. Thank fuck for that.
I yank on a pair of jeans, palm my trusty blade, and slink out into the darkened house.
Dammit. These are Gy’s pants. Too tight in the crotch.
Preparing to search for trouble, every instinct in my body lights up. My hearing becomes supercharged, and my nostrils flare, trying to scent anything amiss. The only smells in the house are our pheromones and Willow’s delicious slick, along with the faint odor of dog.
Creeping forward, ready for anything, I go in search of her mutt. Nothing looks different as I scan my surroundings, but Bruce’s low growl summons me to the living room.
Seeing me, Bruce wanders over and presses his head against my leg before staring at the door and snapping menacingly.
There’s a loud thump outside, and the Malinois' hackles raise, his teeth glinting dangerously. We’re both predators, ready to kill to protect our sleeping omega.
There’s something nice about knowing the lethal animal is on my side.
Together, we use the cover of darkness and slink toward the window. His snarl lets me know the threat remains, but I’m well aware of how difficult it is to breach this house. Still, I keep my ears open as I peel back the curtain and squint through the shade.
Bruce barks as I make out the faint shadow of a person go tumbling down Willow’s porch stairs.
The shadow gets up and starts sprinting.
And though my instincts want me to pursue him, I wait.
Seconds later, the rumble of a motorcycle comes to life.
A single rear taillight illuminates the road.
Not enough to see who the person might be, but it tears away from the house like a bat out of hell.
Pussy.
Who the hell?
If I were a betting man, I’d say our visitor was here on his own, but I wait a few moments to observe, not wanting to step into a trap. Bruce quits growling, and I walk toward the door until his head whips back, staring into the recesses of the house. My hand clenches around my blade.
Seconds later, I catch the patter of quiet feet.
But instead of acting defensively, Bruce’s ears perk up and his tail wags.
Gy and Willow have crept from the nest. As soon as they appear, the dog pads over to Willow, taking up his position by her side.
She reaches down to pet his head. “Hi, sweet boy.” Her eyes shift between my face and the knife, confusion filling their silver depths.
“What’s going on?” She bites her lip, and I step forward to release the poor flesh.
I’m not sure what to tell her, because the truth is, it’s a mystery.
There was definitely a man outside her house, but who is anyone’s guess.
All I’m sure of is that this person rode a motorcycle, which doesn’t exactly narrow it down around these parts.
“There was a man lurking around outside, honeybee.” Willow whines, and lifts her damaged fingers to cover her mouth. Reaching forward, I take them in my own, pleased when she steps into my body instead of pulling away.
“Are you sure it wasn’t one of the agents?” she whispers.
“No, but I doubt it. Bruce was certain they were a threat.” She presses her face into my abdomen, and her body quakes.
I’m torn between wanting to comfort my omega and getting outside to assess the threat level.
I glance at Gy. “Why don’t you guys go back inside the safe room and lock it up until I give the all-clear? ”
Gy glowers at me, shaking his head. “No way. You need backup, and between the two of us there’s not much we can’t handle. Let’s put Willow in there with Bruce until we’re sure the coast is clear.” He has a point, but the very idea of abandoning Willow makes me want to riot.
My eyes shoot daggers at him, and he sends them right back as we silently argue. But our omega takes it out of our hands when she marches to the door instead.
“Absolutely not. I refuse to sit inside my safe little nest like some damsel in distress. If some dickhead tried to break into my house, I want to know who it is.” She begins twisting the locks from top to bottom, and I’ve never been more grateful for the sheer number that gives me enough time to scoop her up and nuzzle her neck with my nose.
“We know you’re brave, honeybee, but you’re not trained the way we are. Let us take care of you. Keep you safe.” She nips my chin before kicking her feet.
“How about we do it together?” she asks. Although I hate it, the mutinous set of her jaw tells me she’s not going back in that safe room without a fight.
“Baby girl. The answer is no,” Gy jumps in with finality in his tone, and I’m thankful, for once, that he’s not playing the good cop. After having her on my knot, telling her no seems impossible.
“We’ve already discussed this. I’m my own boss. So, you can come with me if you like, but I’m going outside.” Willow squirms against me, her lush body awakening my cock. “Put me down now, Cujo.”
I do as she says, reminded of the fact that she hates being confined. Placing her gently on her feet, I try something completely foreign to me. Compromising.
“How about you remain behind Gy and me when we open the door. And once we’re outside, your sexy ass stays right between us.” Her eyes narrow as she considers the plan, then, finding it satisfactory, she nods.
Turning toward the door, I unlock her arsenal of deadbolts and latches. With a deep breath, I squeak it open, ready for anything, and hoping not to catch a bullet.
At first glance, there’s nothing strange or unique.
The foggy morning light, the sun barely breaking through.
Nothing moves until the smallest breeze ruffles the leaves in the trees.
Making sure to shield my omega, I reach out and unlatch the security door, though I can feel her shifting from side to side, getting restless.
“Keep behind me,” I remind her, swinging the door outward with a hard push and ducking back quickly in case anyone’s rigged a trap. My chest is tight, palms sweating. Usually so cool under pressure, having my girl here has me on edge.
When nothing explodes, I wander out further, still cautious. I catalogue my surroundings, and they all look normal. Our bikes sit in the driveway, completely untouched, and nothing leaps out from the bushes.
Frustrated, Willow dashes around us, stepping out onto the front porch. Both of us reach for her, but her gasp alerts me to what I’ve missed.
Copper tinges the air. Blood.
Little rodent bodies litter her patio. Mutilated. Decapitated. Bile rises in my throat.
What the fuck? It doesn’t seem like much to me; they’re mice, not even rats, but it must hold significance for Willow, because she runs into the house, hands clenched over her mouth.
No one gets to upset my omega. Bloodlust sings in my veins.
Time to go hunting.