Murder Mittens Read online

  Leering while scarred horrified most, but Sebastian chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You are such a cat.”

  “I am. I’m a lynx. I’m a most proud and fluffy predator. Lion manes are really fluffy, too, so I’m looking forward to you shifting for me so I can play with your mane. That was my plan all along, to get my hands on you and your mane, Mr. Mane.”

  “Sure it was. You might be an excellent cat, but you’re a terrible liar. Your expression when you realized I actually wanted you is now one of my most priceless treasures. You couldn’t even begin to believe or imagine that I might actually want to tie you to my bed and do wonderful things to you.”

  “I probably looked like I’d been slapped across the face a few times. I’m still waiting for someone to pinch me and wake me up, but I’ve pinched myself a few times and haven’t woken up. I even took a nap in my new dream-like reality, and when I woke up, a lion was driving my daddy’s truck, and this was a pretty damned good reason to purr. Or so I think.”

  The decor in the resort reminded me how simple and modest of a life I—and my family—lived. If I hadn’t known it was a lycanthrope friendly establishment, I would’ve worried about leaving dirt on the polished marble floors, or on the end tables decorated in a bewildering and eclectic collection of statuettes, flower vases with real and fake bouquets, and random bowls filled with stuff.

  I peered into one such bowl, wondering what the point was of putting dyed glass balls into sand. I pointed at it. “What is this, Sebastian? I don’t understand the point.”

  “It’s art. Things like that make some people happy. The spheres are probably from a high-end glass artisan, and the sand is probably from somewhere exotic. I feel I should warn you now that one of my new missions in life is to make you purr, and having me around is a pretty damned good reason to purr. I am a lion. I am the best of lions, and I don’t think you should purr for other lions. I’m the jealous kind.”

  I refrained from reminding him I rarely purred for anyone. Did I even know a second lion? No matter. I had the important lion in my clutches, and I would train myself into believing I deserved a lion all to myself if necessary. “We’re lycanthropes, Mr. Mane. We operate on jealousy with a splash of spite. I hope lionesses don’t think lions are to be shared like mundane prides. I am not good at sharing. And anyone who tries to share my lion is getting a beatdown.”

  Still chuckling, Sebastian wrapped his arm around me and marched me to the elevator. “You have nothing to worry about. On to more important things. I am very pleased with the amount of pampering you signed yourself up for this week. I’ll make sure I’m appropriately dressed and otherwise prepared to join you. I take it you were planning your hunts for the morning?”

  When I took the time to think about it, I realized I’d set up a hell schedule for myself, and I’d planned it without anyone around to help me. With the help, it counted as insane but possible. Without help? It went beyond merely insane. “After dinner and in the morning. I don’t sleep as much or as well as I should, and I’ve been working evenings lately. I figured I could nap during some of the treatments. Like the one where I’m supposed to put cucumbers over my eyes for some reason and just chill out. For an hour. While listening to some nice music. Someone is going to paint my nails and toes while I relax. That’s tonight, and you’re going to have to tell the spa people how to get a hold of you, because after that, I’m going to be asleep. And I will not want to wake up. Who would? Not only will I be pampered, I will be pampered in such a way where my nails will be beautiful when they’re done.”

  I would pick a bright and daring red.

  “I’m sure they’ll wake you up, but if you’d like me to be around after you have been relaxed into a stupor, I’m sure I can amuse myself in the waiting area of the spa until you’re freed from their clutches. And if you’re that tired, I’ll enjoy tucking you into bed.” The elevator door chimed and opened, and Sebastian waited until I went inside before following, tapping the button for the top floor. “Lions are masters at pampering. We are obviously kings and queens over all other living things, and royalty are pampered. But as we’re more solitary than our mundane counterparts, we’re usually required to pamper ourselves. The chosen beloved of royalty are also pampered. That’s you, in case you might attempt to deny how you should be treated like the queen you are.”

  “Goodness, Sebastian. Your ego has noticeably inflated. Do you know what happens when your ego gets too inflated?”

  If his grin broadened any more, his face might crack in half. “You will do your best to pop my overinflated ego, aiming for making me roar as many times as possible within a ten minute period. I win, because when I roar, you purr, and controlling your happiness pleases me greatly. And when you’re unhappy, I’m unhappy, and nobody wants an unhappy lion, Wells.”

  “Do lions get married?” It could go either way with feline lycanthropes. My parents had married, but they’d married because when popping out litters every few years, being married helped with the taxes and simplified matters for them. None of my mated uncles had married, as they hadn’t seen any point in doing so.

  They’d caught their mate, and they didn’t need a piece of paper to establish their status as mated.

  “We do. Often elaborately. Do you know what wedding days are?”

  “Tax-cut day.”

  “Present day, my lynx. It’s a day where everyone we know is required to give us presents for having found happiness. We get prizes for mating and officiating it.”

  My eyes widened. “My parents got a courthouse marriage. They skipped getting presents?”

  “If they have an actual wedding ceremony, everyone close to them is required to give them gifts.”

  I grabbed my new phone out of my purse, eyeballing the box. “Is this a good phone, Sebastian?”

  “It’s a really good phone, yes. There are better on the market, but for its price? It’s damned good and will do just about anything you want, especially on the game front. Do you need help setting it up? I’m pretty sure you’re using a flip phone that can’t even use the internet.”

  My pride demanded I lie, lie, lie to cover my ignorance about phones. Instead, I grabbed my old phone out of my purse and held both out to him. “Yes, please.”

  He took the phones. “Glad to help. I’ll show you how to do it when we’re in the room, and if you weren’t planning on getting a case, I’ll pick one out for you while I’m out.”

  “Do they really need cases?”

  “Yes. We’re lycanthropes. We are masters at breaking things accidentally. That makes cases necessary. Not putting a case on your phone is like mimicking those who put coffee cups in CD holders when you’re a lycanthrope. And in my not-so-humble opinion, even when you’re not one. Phones are expensive. Put yours in a case.”

  I gasped. “You heard about that call?”

  “I may have called your boss using my CDC credentials during an inquiry on lycanthropes in high-stress workplaces located in your area. It was a legitimate call. Mostly. And as I’m clever and insufferable, I did my survey requesting specific examples. There’s only one female lycanthrope in his employment. You. I heard about the call. One of my new goals in life is to put you into a job you actually like. And I have no doubt you’re good at your job. I just want you to have work you like. That is not a smear on you, your work ethic, or even your job, only because even your boss is aware you do it because of personal reasons, not because it’s the job you want. And yes, your boss knows about your scars, and however much it disgusts me, he admitted he shows you some favoritism because of them.”

  “Really?”

  “He gives you more days off than others with your seniority. He also factored your gender into it, because he wrongfully assumed you were actively looking for a man.”

  “I have the pickiest virus. She has never liked men. She has only liked one man. And for her to like you, you had a lot of criteria you needed to meet. Honestly, I love my virus because of that. She could have made m
y life so much worse.”

  “The virus is essentially sentient, Harri. Your virus knows how much it hurts when people flinch because of your face. She wouldn’t partner you with someone who couldn’t handle you as you are, just like my virus refuses women who don’t meet his criteria.”

  “Your virus has criteria, too? Like what? Vicious huntresses? I may have a scarred face, but I am excellent as hunting, on two feet and four.”

  “That is definitely a turn on. I like competence and skill. So does my virus. You top the charts on the competence and skill chart. And if I could purr, I would have been in that sewing shop when you took out that wolf.”

  “I was the queen of cool, calm, and collected on that hit. I’m so proud of myself.”

  The elevator opened, and Sebastian checked the brochure we’d been given, which gave us a map of our floor, along with the information we needed to enjoy our visit to the spa. He pointed to the left. “Our room is about twenty miles that way. Also, your general behavior during a hit is part of why the CDC likes hiring you. Cool, calm, and collected is also highly professional.”

  “I’m still surprised the CDC assigned you to me, especially considering we’re unmated lycanthropes.”

  “Were, not are. We were unmated. We’re now happily mated. The CDC hires a lot of observant, competent people. My boss is particularly observant and competent. My boss recognized I was moodier and crankier than normal, so he started watching my file to figure out what was making me less moody and less cranky. Through the powers of deduction, and reports of me roaring at you over the phone, he concluded that despite appearances, which involved me being forced to the point of roaring from frustration, my conversations with you made me significantly less crabby. So, he sent me here in the hopes I would become happily mated to you. Let me note that there is a very strong emphasis on happily. I’m very happy today. I am sending my boss a nice Christmas present this year, and once I convince you to marry me, an invitation to our wedding.”

  I considered my savings account, and assuming we pulled off the job, I could easily afford a wedding. A nice one, where I got to show off a pretty dress in front of all of my brothers and parents. And I could invite my uncles and their families, too. We could even do it at an actual venue rather than in the yard. “How big is your family?”

  “Not as big as I would like, but it’s big enough. Lions don’t like staying unmated for long, and while most lionesses limit things to a child every fifteen to eighteen years, we’re long lived and tend to mate early. I’m considered to be a holdout, but that’s because after the first time I met you, I decided I would be keeping a close eye on you, which means I really didn’t have interest in other women. At the time, I hadn’t been planning on mating with you, but I had an interest.”

  “My reaction to people flinching at my face?” I guessed.

  “That was a big part of it, yes. I didn’t flinch, but when I saw you, I wondered what sort of hell you had endured to emerge with so many scars. I’d guessed a car accident rather than a fire. I hadn’t guessed your whole body is likewise scarred. And since the scars are a sore point, and I would only discuss them after you brought it up, I wasn’t going to ask. Nothing I had on you implied it was a result of domestic violence or an attack, so I tried not to worry about it much.”

  “My family would not react well to anyone raising a hand against me. Unless we’re actively mating, in which case they’ll cheer me on and tell me to kick your ass so hard you retaliate and show me a good time. Because we’re lynxes, and that is encouraged.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. And make sure I swat you a time or two while a lion. To establish my physical superiority and goad you into indulging with me. Honestly, I’m liking general lynx behaviors. Lions are needy and indulge often, and it’s looking like my little lynx is in dire need of attention and indulgence.”

  “I think you’re right. Lonely lynxes don’t purr often. I have been a very lonely lynx.”

  “Those days are over, although I am hoping I’ll get some of your growls and hisses, too. I’m a lion, not a completely pampered prince. I like the whole package. The purrs are nice, but I want the growls, hisses, and every other sound I can get out of you, too.”

  “Screaming.”

  Sebastian stumbled a step. “What? Screaming?”

  “Lynxes scream at each other as part of the violent little dance involving the creation of litters of kittens. Or for practice for the creation of litters of kittens. There is a lot of screaming involved. My parents notify everyone within at least a mile when they’re going at it as lynxes. The screaming is far less noticeable when they’re humans, but nobody even bothers calling the cops anymore. There’s a permanent note over at the police station that any screaming coming from the Wells property is probably a warning of more Wells kittens on the way. The louder and longer the screaming? The higher the chance of a new litter in development. If there’s a report of domestic violence at my parents’ place, the cops check the neighbors’ porches to see if there might actually be a problem. If there are lynxes piled on the porches of various neighbors’ porches, they just return to the station. It’s not worth pissing off amorous lynxes to confirm it’s just lynxes being lynxes.”

  Sebastian snickered. “We’re going to need to get a home sufficiently distanced from our neighbors. Lions are loud. I’m amused I need to worry about if lynxes are louder.”

  “I’m pretty sure we take the top prize for being loud and creepy. Lynxes sound horrifically like someone is being flayed alive. A lion’s roar? Loud but generally not a problem unless you’ve just pissed off a lion and you don’t want the lion pissed off at you. Me? I like pissing off one specific lion. I do not want other lions roaring at me.”

  “That is because you’re smart.”

  “Sebastian, I pissed you off for fun because I’m my mother’s daughter and the idea of getting my ass handed to me by a big, muscular lion is highly attractive. That is not smart. Kinky, possibly. But not smart.”

  “It’s smart because the lion you like pissing off for fun has no interest in harming you. You were just using alternative flirtation methods because simpering or fluttering your lashes is not one of your skills.”

  While I’d assumed Sebastian’s complaint our room was twenty miles away from the elevator counted as a minor exaggeration, we hiked down an endless hallway to the end, where a set of double doors had our room number on them. “I’ve screwed up somewhere, Sebastian. Those doors are single, and they have numbers that aren’t ours. This room has two doors, but the number matches ours. I know I indulged, but I don’t think I double-door indulged.” I winced at the panic in my voice. “I’m pretty sure I didn’t indulge in this sort of room, Sebastian.”

  Sebastian took the keys from me, inserted the card, and the red light turned green. He opened the door and peeked inside. “The keys work, so this is definitely the right room. Oh. This is really nice, too. Perfect for a lion to lounge between long sessions of pampering his lynx. If you’re worried, I’ll talk to the front desk to make sure everything is okay, but I’m pretty sure it is. Hotels do this sometimes.”

  “This?”

  “Upgrade rooms. If a penthouse suite is empty, they’ll bump a guest up, especially if the guest has purchased a higher quality room already. Was the room charge what you expected?”

  My face flushed. “I didn’t even bother looking. I prepaid the actual room fee and spa fees. I pay the resort fee at the end.”

  Sebastian set the bags down, grabbed hold of my wrist, and pulled me inside. “More enjoying, less panicking. If it’s not a free upgrade, covering the difference will be my contribution, as apparently, someone paid for two people to enjoy the spa without having a planned guest with her.”

  Oops. “I’m not good with money and vacation planning, apparently. I didn’t know what anything on the brochure meant. I just assumed expensive was good, and the website gave me all sorts of spa options, so I clicked them all.”

  “You’re some
thing else, my little lynx. Did you happen to tell your family which spa you were going to?”

  I thought about it. “Probably, to prevent the whining and the crying.”

  “And your family was overwhelmed with guilt they hadn’t sent you to Hawaii, correct?”

  “A laptop, several thousand in cash, some makeup, and games for my new laptop. The cash was too much, but I think Uncle Henry provided most of it, because my parents? They can’t afford much of anything with the number of kittens they keep around. I’m not sure how my daddy paid for his truck and new car. The rest of the escapees make more than I do, so I didn’t feel too badly about mugging them for their money. But we all chip in for the kittens—or fixing things around the house. Lynx kittens get into everything. And break everything. Honestly, it’s amazing the house is still standing. It’s definitely too small for the number of kittens living in it, though. But lynxes sleep in cuddle piles often, so it’s not like they really need a bedroom each. There needs to be a bedroom per litter for the most part. I was weird, as after I hit my teens, I opted to sleep in a closet rather than with any of the litters. My brothers snore.”

  “Your brothers are also male, and your virus would have gotten cranky around randy teenaged boys. Teenaged boys are walking hormones.”

  “They really are. They cried the first time I hid in a closet to escape them and their stinky hormones.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “Poor, sad little lynxes. Now, stop worrying and come enjoy the nice room. It was probably your uncle, and he probably called the hotel and made arrangements for any upgrades you hadn’t taken care of yourself.”

  “He really would,” I complained, but I stepped into the room, which oozed modern luxury with a splash of rustic. The hotel had gone with warm colors over a cool gray backdrop, creating an odd but welcoming effect. To my delight, there was a fireplace in the sitting room, and a gift basket waited on the coffee table wrapped in metallic red crinkly cellophane. “Nobody told me there’d be presents.”