“Did you get that when you fell down the basement stairs?”
He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Fell?” She grinned, which was so distracting he answered without thinking. “No. That was…” When you nearly ran me over with your ambulance that isn’t an ambulance. “Earlier.” He coughed. That sounded natural, right? Like a tickle in his throat instead of a clumsy attempt to get off the subject of his injury? “Listen, Lila, the reason I’m here…”
“Oh, goody. You’re finally getting to it.”
“…I’m looking for a runaway.” Sally Smalls, werebear (subspecies Helarctos malayanus), age ten, temporary parens familia4, last seen leading several IPA employees on a merry chase. Well, one IPA employee. He produced a school picture with Sally scowling at the photog. “I’ve got reason to believe she was here.”
“What, you’re some kind of social worker?”
“No, I’m some kind of an accountant.” Jesus. He really should work on his lying. Or his impulse to give her honest answers. Then, compounding his idiocy, he handed her his card.
She examined it. “You’ve crossed out ‘accountant’ and written in ‘World’s Greatest Detective-slash-Juvenile Advocate.’ And you wrote out ‘slash’ instead of putting in a slash.”
“What? Oh.” He snatched it back. “That’s just the prototype.”
“For IPA, right? Whatever that is.” She paused, but he didn’t elaborate. “Macropi was telling me I should meet someone she thought might be an accountant. Must be you.”
For the first time in his life, Oz was grateful for Mama Mac’s incessant matchmaking. As she bandaged his arm, he had babbled about Lila. A lot. But he didn’t have the nerve to ask Mama the vital question. Probably just as well. Kama-Rupa was a fairy tale.
“So you’re a bum, got it.” Before he could defend himself, she added, “This missing girl, what’s she done?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Her folks passed away a couple of days ago, and she’s having a hard time dealing with it. I’ve been trying to look after her.”
“Is that what you call it?” she asked, so pleasantly it was terrifying. She pointed to his sore arm. “Looking after her?”
Mindful of the gun, he immediately raised his hands. “Hey, I got hurt helping her, not hurting her.”
“Oh, sure. That’s why you kicked in my door. Because you’re not one of the bad guys.”
“Well, I’m not.” Was that a whine? I think that was a whine. “I just want Sally to be saaaaaaafe.”
“Well, she’s not here.” Lila shrugged. “So.”
So, an obvious lie, which he had expected. Except…
“Anything else?” she asked, just on this side of impatience.
She still wasn’t afraid. In fact, he wasn’t getting much of anything off her. Last night hadn’t been a fluke. She was different, and not just because she was Stable, and he wasn’t sure how, and it was intriguing as fuck.
Lock her down before another wolf sniffs her out.
The thought was so sudden and alarming, he started to growl, then loudly cleared his throat to cover.
“Sounds like you need more water.”
He shook his head and cleared his throat again. “Listen, I’m not going to hurt you. Or the kid.”
“Oh, I know.”
“I mean you don’t need your weapon.”
“Not your call. How about you run along while you’re still able?”
“Are you threatening me?” he asked, delighted.
“Not if you get off on it. So, to sum up, I don’t know anything that can help you and your little runaway isn’t here and you need new business cards and you were just leaving, go find a brick-and-mortar stationery store if they still have those, g’bye.”
“Ah-ha! I never said she was a runaway.” Wait, had he? In so many words? Maybe it was inferred. No. Implied. It was hard to remember; she smelled so good. “See, you do know something.”
“And I never told you my name was Lila.”
Shit. Hadn’t she? Too late, he realized she hadn’t introduced herself. He knew her name because he’d talked to the owner of the Curs(ed) House, who talked to Mama Mac, who talked to him. While she was patching him up after this terrifying crazy-but-cute woman knocked him into her basement and then threw baking soda everywhere. And they didn’t talk about Kama-Rupa, which definitely wasn’t a thing, and since it wasn’t a thing, he definitely wasn’t in the throes of it. Relief! “I know this looks bad. But Sally needs my help. It’s my job to keep her and kids like her safe.” Well. Eventually it’d be his job. Depending on how he handled this job.
“Then run along and do that. She’s. Not. Here.”
Oz heard the pounding footsteps half a second before the basement door was slammed open so hard, it bounced off the wall and slammed back shut. The door opened again, slowly, and a familiar face peered out. “I’m not going anywhere!”
“God damn it,” Lila groaned, rubbing her temples.
“Waste of baking soda,” he agreed.
* * *
2. These exist. I’m wearing them right now!
3. Truly a miracle product!
4. Ward of the Family, a designation unique to Shifters.
Chapter 9
The first thing the li’l jerk did after blowing both their covers was laugh at her. “What’re you gonna do with that?” she asked, pointing to Lila’s gun.
“Let’s not taunt the nice armed lady,” Ox cautioned, which was gratifying.
“I’m only one of those things,” Lila said. Then, to the kid: “Really? I’m up here lying my ass off—beautifully, I might add, this idiot had no idea—”
“Hey!”
“—only for you to stumble in at the exact wrong time.”
“Well, you’re talkin’ about me,” the child said pertly. “Doncha wanna know what I think?”
“Not even a little.”
“Sally, a whole bunch of people are worried about you,” Ox put in. “And what happened to your leg, honey?”
“My leg’s good, and you go back to IPA and tell ’em to quit worrying about me,” she ordered. “My folks are on the way, and we’re gonna go live in California. So you go bug some other kid.”