8932—section B—and 14939 section C paragraph two?”
“Is it?” Thor tried not to laugh out loud.
“All front doors of the city’s commercial establishments must have a window. In addition, the entrances of establishments fronting Main Street—also known by mayoral proclamation as Gemütlichkeit Way—must be, and I quote, ‘folksy and charming.’” The young man poked an underlining finger into Thor’s chest on each word.
The vampire inside Thor ached to take a bite out of this pugnacious fool. He controlled it by dint of ridiculously strenuous Alliance training. “I’m sure the contractors cleared it before the installation.” He gave Titus his blandest smile.
“That’s as may be.” The young officer, not seeming to comprehend his danger, reopened the pad of forms and scribbled on a fresh sheet. “I don’t make the law, but I do enforce it. I’m going to have to give you a citation.” He tore off the top sheet and handed it to Thor. “You have thirty days to correct the issue, then fill out forms 842A, B, D, and E—in triplicate.”
Vision shading a distinct vampirey violet, Thor snapped the paper from the young man’s hand. A low growl thrummed from his chest. He didn’t bother hiding it, and as he looked the citation over, the thrum got louder.
Sera put a warning hand on his arm. “You look familiar, Officer. Are you related to Captain Ernest Titus, by any chance? He teaches a criminal justice class evenings at my school.”
He’d overheard her talking about Titus. Students thought the man dished out Ds and Fs to make himself feel superior.
She’d probably mentioned the captain to Officer Titus to try to defuse the situation, but she’d pronounced the name as Emerson’s punk wife Nixie said it, Tightass .
“The captain is my father.” Titus drew himself tall, rage in every feature. “And it’s pronounced Tit -Us.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Sera threw Thor a helpless giggling glance that spoke louder than words. Tit-us was just as unfortunate.
He gave her a brief smile of commiseration.
Then he rustled the papers to get the officer’s attention. “I’ll get this to the Camille.”
“See that you do.” Titus turned and rolled out, leaving the door open for Thor to shut after him, which he did with an irritated slap.
“I’d like to fill out his form 842.”
Sera smiled. “I can just picture how you’d do it—with your fist.” She mimed punching. “A, B, D, and E.” Each letter was a jab.
“In triplicate.” He sketched a jab-cross-jab.
“So fast.” Her round eyes were impressed. But her smile faded. “We’d better get cracking on that prank. Um, just to be sure we actually work…” She took the bottle of honey whiskey and put it back on the top shelf.
Thor tried not to be disappointed. But his cock rose with her skirt as she stretched up to put the bottle on the high shelf.
Until a yawn wracked her.
He zipped instantly to her side, a solicitous hand on her shoulder. “Your double hours are getting to you. Let’s call it a night.”
Settling the bottle in place, she sighed. “Yeah, but if we don’t come up with a prank now, we won’t be able to test it in the morning. We’ll be practically winging it.”
“Then we wing it.”
I panicked.
Wing it?
“No!” Winging it meant potentially wild behavior—just look at what already had happened when I let wild creativity rule—and I was not going to risk that. “That’s a bad idea.”
“Why?” Thor’s gaze narrowed on me, as if trying to pluck the thoughts from my head.
“Because…” To cover, I said the first thing that popped out of my mouth. “Because we have to plan in order to get something good enough to win.”
“I don’t care about winning.” His eyes widened, and then he frowned, as if surprised by his own response.
“Maybe you don’t. Camille won’t really fire you. But she’s been looking for an opportunity to get rid of me. Not ‘fun’ enough, remember?”
“Sexy
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley