Paws for Thought (Paranormal Dating Agency #104)

Chapter 1

ONE

TESS

The fluorescent lights hummed their usual monotonous tune above the lab benches, but today their buzz felt like fingernails on a chalkboard.

Tess gripped her coffee mug as she stared at the rejection email that had arrived this morning like a digital slap to the face.

The words blurred together as she read them for the fifteenth time, each syllable hammering another nail into the coffin of her carefully constructed five-year plan.

“The National Science Foundation regrets to inform you that your grant proposal has not been selected for funding at this time.”

“You’re going to burn a hole through that screen if you keep glaring at it like that.” Elena’s voice carried its usual warm amusement as she settled into the chair beside Tess, cradling her own steaming mug.

“This is a disaster.” Tess’s voice came out sharper than she intended, but she couldn’t summon the energy to soften it. “Do you understand what this means? No grant equals no funding. No funding equals no jobs. No jobs equals—”

“Unemployment?” Elena’s eyebrows lifted. “Tess, breathe. The world isn’t ending.”

Tess’s chest tightened with each breath, panic threading through her ribcage like barbed wire. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have rent due in two weeks, student loans, and credit card payments from your mother’s medical bills.”

The familiar weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders, the same burden she’d carried since she was sixteen and working after-school jobs to help her mother make ends meet.

Her mother had worked two jobs, sometimes three, ever since Tess was born just to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table.

Tess had learned early that stability wasn’t given—it was earned through relentless effort and perfect execution.

“I’ve been working since I could legally hold a job,” Tess continued, her voice climbing despite her attempts at control. “I’ve built my entire life around being the person who delivers results, who gets things done, who—” Her throat closed around the words.

Who never fails.

Elena leaned forward, her brown eyes soft with concern.

“Tess, listen to me. The lab has enough funding to keep us employed for another six months minimum. That’s plenty of time for someone with your credentials to find something even better.

Maybe this rejection is the universe’s way of pushing you toward something bigger. ”

The universe.

Tess nearly laughed, but it would have come out bitter and sharp. “The universe doesn’t pay my bills, Elena.”

“When was the last time you actually looked at other opportunities? You’ve been so focused on that senior research position here—”

“Five years.” The admission tasted bitter. “I’ve been here for five years, working seventy-hour weeks, publishing papers, building relationships, proving myself over and over again. And now instead of finally getting that promotion, I’m going to be scrambling for any position that will have me.”

Elena’s expression shifted, that particular look she got when she was about to say something Tess didn’t want to hear. “Maybe that’s not such a terrible thing. Maybe—”

“Dr. Holt?” Dr. Matthews’s voice cut through their conversation like a scalpel. “Could I speak with you in my office?”

Tess’s blood turned to ice water. She looked up to find her boss standing in the doorway of his corner office, his expression unreadable behind wire-rimmed glasses. In five years, he’d never called her into his office on a Tuesday morning unless something was seriously wrong.

This is it. They’re cutting positions early. Elena’s six-month timeline was optimistic bullshit, and now I’m going to be unemployed by lunch.

“Of course.” The words came out steadier than she felt. Tess pushed back from her desk, her legs suddenly unsteady. The familiar lab sounds—the hum of centrifuges, the soft beeping of monitors, the quiet conversation of her colleagues—seemed to fade into white noise.

You can handle this. You’ve handled everything life has thrown at you so far. Mom’s illness, the medical bills, building a career from nothing.

But her hands trembled as she smoothed down her practical navy blouse, and her vision wavered at the edges. The careful control she’d maintained for thirty-four years felt gossamer-thin, ready to shatter at the slightest pressure.

“Breathe,” she whispered to herself. “Just breathe.”

As she stepped closer to his office, the familiar interior came into view, revealing the chaos of academic life—journals stacked in precarious towers, whiteboards covered in equations that looked like abstract art, and the persistent smell of coffee and dry-erase markers.

But there was something different today. Someone different.

A petite woman sat in one of the chairs facing Dr. Matthews’s desk, her snow-white bob styled to perfection and her posture radiating the kind of confidence that usually belonged to people twice her size.

She wore a vibrant emerald pantsuit that probably cost more than Tess’s monthly rent, and when she turned to look at Tess, her eyes—an unusual shade of blue that seemed to shift and sparkle in the fluorescent light—held an expression that was equal parts mischief and knowing recognition.

Who the hell is this woman, and why is she looking at me like she knows something I don’t?

Dr. Matthews gestured for Tess to enter, and she stepped across the threshold on legs that felt disconnected from her body.

Tess crossed the small space and lowered herself into the worn leather chair next to the mysterious woman.

The older woman radiated an energy that made the air itself feel charged, like the moment before lightning strikes.

Up close, Tess could see the subtle shimmer in those unusual blue eyes, and catch the faint scent of vanilla and something electric.

What kind of scientist smells like a thunderstorm?

Dr. Matthews cleared his throat, shuffling papers on his desk with unusual nervousness. “Tess, I’d like you to meet Gerri Wilder. She’s come to us with a rather... unique opportunity.”

“Unique, yes.” Gerri’s voice carried a musical quality that somehow managed to sound both warm and wickedly amused. “That’s definitely one word for it, Reginald.”

Tess’s analytical mind kicked into overdrive. The woman’s pantsuit was clearly expensive, her posture spoke of absolute confidence, and those eyes held a knowing gleam that made Tess’s skin prickle with unease.

Foreign researcher? Private sector? She doesn’t fit the academic profile. And I’ve certainly never heard of her before.

“Ms. Wilder has approached our department about a consulting position,” Dr. Matthews continued, his voice taking on that careful tone he used when discussing budget cuts or departmental politics. “She represents interests on Nova Aurora.”

Nova Aurora.

Tess had heard whispers about the otherworldly connection between Earth’s shifter populations and their alien counterparts, but it had always seemed like fringe science. The kind of research that happened in classified government facilities, not university labs.

Gerri leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Their bear shifter king in the Northern Dominion territory—King Voran—has been battling a mysterious illness for nearly a decade. And now, his condition is deteriorating and their medical resources are... limited.”

“Limited how?” Tess’s scientific curiosity overrode her confusion.

“They need someone with your particular expertise in both systemic failures and shifter cell adaptation.” Gerri’s smile widened, revealing perfect teeth. “Someone who can think outside conventional medical frameworks.”

Shifter cell adaptation.

Her secret obsession, the research she’d pursued in her spare time out of pure intellectual curiosity. She’d never mentioned her fascination with shifter physiology to anyone except—

Elena. Elena must have mentioned it to someone.

“I don’t understand.” Tess’s voice came out smaller than she intended. “Surely there are researchers with more experience. What about Dr. Tanner? He’s been studying systemic failures for thirty years. Or Dr. Rebecca Chavez—she’s published extensively on cell adaptation.”

Gerri waved a dismissive hand, her gesture somehow managing to convey both elegance and complete disregard for conventional hierarchy. “Oh, darling, I’ve reviewed everyone’s credentials here. Trust me when I say you’re precisely what this situation requires.”

Precisely what this situation requires?

The phrasing felt loaded, heavy with implications Tess couldn’t quite grasp. Her pulse quickened as she processed the magnitude of what they were discussing. An alien planet. A dying king. A medical mystery that had stumped their healers.

Dr. Matthews leaned back in his chair, his expression carefully neutral.

“I mentioned to Ms. Wilder that you’d shown interest in shifter physiology.

Elena told me recently about your secret research endeavors to highlight your versatility to me.

I think she was trying to help you land that senior research position here. ”

Heat flooded Tess’s cheeks. Those late-night research sessions, diving into obscure medical journals about shifter biology, had been her guilty pleasure. Pure academic indulgence with no practical application. She’d never imagined it would become professionally relevant.

“Speaking of which, the consulting position comes with significant incentives,” Dr. Matthews continued, his tone shifting to something more deliberate.

“If you accept this assignment and prove successful in determining the cause of King Voran’s illness, I can guarantee you the senior research position. ”