Free The Problem with Paddy (Shrew & Company) by Holley Trent Page B

forming sharp points that looked vicious enough to pierce a car tire. “Humor me.”
    Her turn to nod.
    And he was gone, groaning as he descended the stairs and padded barefooted toward the woods.
    She watched until his pale skin disappeared into the dense trees, perhaps five minutes, and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She worried for him. He was going to be just like she had been when all her changes started. Alone with no concept of what was happening and when it’d end. But, he had one thing she hadn’t—someone to comfort him when he dragged himself home. If he did.

    Sarah arrived half an hour later bearing a large portfolio and her usual duffel bag full of firearms.
    Dana wanted to tell her she probably didn’t need them, but what did she know? For all she knew, an entire pack of man-sized catamounts could show up at the door, scratching to get in like zombies on the stalk for fresh brains.
    She shuddered at the thought.
    “You all right?” Sarah asked, unzipping the large, flat case on top of Patrick’s coffee table and giving her boss a raised eyebrow.
    “I’m fine. It’s been a crazy day.”
    “I bet. Why’s your hair all messed up?”
    “Huh?” Dana put a hand up to her hair and her eyes went wide when she realized what it must have looked like. She’d put her clothes and holster back on, but had forgotten to check her reflection. Between what she and Patrick had gotten into on the sofa and continued on the bed, it stuck up at odd angles on the sides and had matted a bit in the back.
    She cleared her throat and quickly swatted it together, coiling it into a loose braid. “I had a little nap.”
    “Mm-hmm,” Sarah hummed, her face a blank. The same kind of blank Dana was so masterful at. It must have been a shrew trait.
    “What?”
    “You don’t get involved with clients.”
    “And I didn’t this time, either.”
    Sarah’s jaw ground left to right, and still she stared.
    “You don’t believe me?”
    “No. You’re too damn honest, so when you lie, I know it. Don’t try to lie to me. It’s always going to be a mistake, boss lady. Ask anyone.”
    “I’m not lying. He’s not a client. Not anymore, anyway.”
    Sarah nodded, and pushed her lips into a smug little smirk. “Don’t worry. You know I don’t spread news. If you want to get yourself a little mountain man action, I won’t say anything to the folks back at home. You deserve a little R&R. Hell, we all do.”
    Dana couldn’t dispute that last part, but she took offense to the “action” bit. That made it sound as if she hadn’t been careful. That she’d fallen for just anyone. Patrick O’Dwyer wasn’t just anyone. He was the man who didn’t even try to tame the shrew. He was the man who liked her in spite of her being one. Sarah didn’t know that, though. Didn’t know Patrick, so Dana held her tongue on that matter. Besides, she didn’t know what would happen when they all got home to Durham. Perhaps Patrick would change his mind and go about business as usual and she’d decide she wasn’t ready to open up to someone again.
    She pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat, studying the scads of photographs and maps Sarah had compiled. “Tell me what you found out.”
    Sarah opened her mouth to start, but the sound of a large cat screaming in the distance made them both pause. Sarah’s skin, usually a dark honey color, paled on her face, but she quickly recovered.
    Dana’s recovery wasn’t so quick. Was that Patrick? Some other beast?
    “Jesus. I can’t get over the fact shit like this exists in real life. Comic book stuff, you know?” Sarah said.
    Dana lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “The X-Men have nothing on us.”
    “You’ve got that right. Anyway, I found out the were-cat group here is spread across three counties. It’s somewhat small, but apparently has a strong gene pool. They do have to bring in outsiders to mate with, though. Most people in it have two were-cat