Page 36 of Last But Not Leashed

“Oh. You’re the boy. All right, then.” Ethel’s father hesitated, blinking. “Baby girl, you didn’t tell us your boy was so colorful.”

“I told you I’d never seen him as a wolf, Daddy!” she howled.

“That’s your fault for not doing better research on your boy.”

“Daddy! Damn it, because of you, a black duster went for him. For that alone, I should beat you to death.”

“You’re cranky,” I muttered, securing my grip on her and tucking her close to me, hoping she’d limit her viciousness to something I’d survive. “I’m sorry for her, sir. She’s annoyed we’ve been delayed.”

“Delayed from what? Committing a murder?”

After so many years of controlling my expression and tone, I remained as neutral as possible considering the circumstances. “Testing the soundproofing of her room, sir, along with the general durability of your home. She wanted to forgo collecting the bounty, but I have plans for the money, sir.”

“It involves a house large enough for puppies,” Ethel’s uncle announced.

My purple fur would cause me grief for the rest of my life, but my hybrid form granted me the strength required to mule kick Ethel’s uncle off the porch. Ethel twisted around in my grip to stare behind me. “Sir.”

“You punted him right off the porch.” Ethel giggled. “Sorry, Uncle Alan. He’s getting used to asserting himself. I’m sure he only meant to give you a love tap.”

I had?

“He deserved it,” Ethel’s father said. “Come on in, then. I reckon one of you might start with telling me why my baby girl is cuffed and leashed.”

“I begged for it,” the love of my life declared with no sign of embarrassment. “He resisted at first, but I can be convincing.”

I sighed again, wondering how I’d survive my first meeting with Ethel’s parents.

“I think you’re testing your boy’s patience.”

“The entire pack has been. It’s been fun. He mopped the kitchen floor with Allison because she punned him. We’re slowly convincing him to come out of his shell.”

“Slowly?” I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

“If it means you’ll stop wearing that damned perfume of yours all the time, go ahead and destroy the house tonight. It took a week for the stink to fade last time you visited. If you’re going to stink up my house, may as well get to do some renovations at the same time.”

Ethel wiggled in my hold. “You can put me down now, Dale.”

I snorted. “If I put you down, you’ll go for the throat of the next person to annoy you.”

Ethel’s father chuckled and turned to enter his home. “He’s right, baby girl. You need to get laid before someone gets hurt.”

As expected, Ethel snarled and struggled to escape my hold, determined to perform a brutal act of patricide.

I decided against telling Ethel her father was right.

Chapter Ten

On the outside, Ethel’s family lived in luxury.

On the inside, I discovered Ethel’s tendency to leave her laundry scattered to the four winds was either a learned behavior or a genetic defect. Did I want to ask why a pair of boxers dangled from the chandelier? At some twenty feet over head, the how was almost as important as the why. In a normal house, the foyer would’ve been a welcoming space.

Ethel’s parents used theirs as a mud room with an emphasis on the mud. My fingers itched to clean—no, detox—the place. The marble should’ve been white instead of brown, and I doubted the walls would ever recover from being splattered with mud left to dry. Jackets hung from a rack and littered the floor, creating an obstacle course I’d have to navigate with care as my claws would leave confetti in my wake.

A growl slipped out before I could stop it.

“Uh oh. The clean freak’s emerging,” Ethel chirped, sounding too happy for my comfort. “Hey, Daddy?”

“I’m not sure I want to ask.”