Free Pandora's Box by Natale Stenzel Page B

to be rude to me, now did they?”
    She groaned, wringing her hands and nearly dancing in place now. A malicious puca—or even a talking ass—was not what she needed
     right now.
    “Although . . .” The ass shuffled coyly.
    “What? What ?” Mina tossed a panicked look at the door then back to the puca. “Anything.”
    “Anything?”
    Mina groaned at the lilt in his voice. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
    “Well, if you ask nicely, I could always shift—”
    Another knock on the door. “Mina, just let me in. I’m a thirty-four-year-old man who’s been around the block a few times.
     It’s not like I haven’t seen everything before.”
    Gaze still on the puca, Mina raised her voice. “Well, you haven’t seen mine, buddy.”
    “Yet.” The puca muttered it speculatively.
    “What? Never mind. I never like the answers.” She whispered it furiously. “Now change—or shift. Whatever. Something he won’t
     be able to—”
    A shimmer-flash, and the puca ass shifted to a dog.
    “A dog?” She blinked. Okay, a dog was at least a little more explainable—
    Glowing yellow eyes peered up at her.
    She stumbled back a step. But . . . at least a dog wasn’t immediately objectionable. Right?
    She eyed the puca cautiously. “If you’re real, he’ll see a dog. Right?”
    The dog wagged his tail. “Yeah. You like?”
    She pondered, desperately, then groaned. “A talking dog with demon eyes. I’m telling you, this is not going to work.”
    “Um. Ahem. Bark?” More tail wagging. Canine brows rose in question over slitted eyes that only mildly spooked.
    She winced. “Maybe you could be a mute dog?”
    “Picky, picky.”
    Maybe Teague wouldn’t even see the dog. Maybe it really was just some kind of ghost or even a figment of her busted imagination.
     Gee, there was a cheery thought. Which was better? A busted imagination or a puca for a ward?
    Heart pounding, Mina walked toward the door.
    “Mina?” Teague’s concern and probable intent spoke loud and clear.
    “Right. I’m coming. Sorry.” She disengaged the deadbolt and opened the door.
    Teague. In all his hotness. A rugged hotness equal to challenging the sexy faceless man Riordan had shifted to earlier. Better
     yet, Teague had a sexy, gorgeous face and no confusing horse ears and tail. She almost whimpered in gratitude. “I am so happy
     to see you, Just Teague.” Dibsies. He belongs to Janelle. Remember dibsies, Mina.
    He looked surprised. Pleasantly so. “Yeah?” Then he frowned. “Is something wrong?”
    “I . . . No. Why don’t you come in?” She stepped back.
    You know, subtlety’s not exactly your strong suit.
    She jumped. Riordan could talk in her mind even when he was sort of, well, physically there? Not that she’d completely accepted
     that he might be here. She could still be nuts. But if she wasn’t, there was no way that dog could actually pass for a dog.
     Not on close inspection.
    Say no more, my guardian.
    “Bark.” A black blur passed her and skittered off toward the back of the house.
    Startled, Teague glanced after it. “Hey, you have a dog.”
    “Yeah.” Not nuts. Was that good or bad?
    “So, what kind of dog is he?”
    “He’s a puc—Uh. Peekapoo .” Almost busted herself. A flustered Mina was not good at subterfuge.
    “Pookapeekapoo?” He grinned a little. “Wait, I know. Like a cockapoo and peekapoo crossed?”
    “Something like that.” No, more like a smart-mouthed hellhound. Which he very well might be.
    I noticed you forgot the cock part of that concoction of yours. Never forget the cock.
    She choked.
    “I dunno. I didn’t see him all that well, but he looked bigger than that. Like a chow-shepherd mix maybe.”
    “That, too. He’s a mutt. Um, the other was a joke. The peekapoo part. Cockapeekapoo. Pookapeekapoo. Whatever.”
    Smoooooooth. Maybe you should leave the talking to me?
    “So.” Mina raised her voice, struggling for distraction from the demon pet. “What brings you here?”