“Relationship” is not a four-letter word.
Chapter 1
Connor Dawson’s wolf wanted out—bad. But the hairy dude would just have to wait a bit. Lately his animal side had been getting more and more riled up, and nothing seemed to appease him. But then Connor wouldn’t exactly say he had been feeling very appeased lately, either.
It didn’t help that the sun would soon be setting and tonight was a full moon. Unlike the stereotype, werewolves didn’t turn into uncontrollable beasts under the full moon. But the moon did call to his inner Fido rather loudly. And since Connor had a case, Fido needed to chill.
Connor was part of an unofficial law enforcement team tasked with ensuring paranormals didn’t kill each other or, at the very least, didn’t clue humans in to the fact they exist. And while humans thought vamps and werewolves were cool in the Hollywood sense, in reality there were a lot more to keep quiet about—elves, faeries, nymphs, witches, gargantuans, vampires, gargoyles, shifters, scores of demons—the list went on.
Right now, he stood outside a typical house in the San Diego burbs. On the inside, however, typical was not on the agenda. A philandering husband and a pissed-off witch wife made for a volatile combination.
The wife had been turned over to her coven for punishment and the husband to a healer for…well, healing. Now they were left with the cleanup.
Connor opened the door to the team van as his teammate Giz walked out of the house with a box. Smoke wafted lightly from the top. Which made Connor a little twitchy. But Giz insisted he had muted the spell used on the toaster. Since Giz was a techno-guru and a powerful warlock, Connor would take his word for it.
Sparks shot up from the top. On second thought…
“Are you sure you shut down the nastiness?”
“Yes. It won’t hurt you. The spell was designed specifically to attack the husband. You definitely don’t want to cheat on a witch.”
“Female shifters aren’t too keen on adultery either,” Connor said. And he couldn’t blame them. He might like to play the field a bit, but he didn’t get involved with married women. Even he had a conscience.
Giz stashed the box in the van.
Connor shut the door. “This is why I won’t be getting married.”
Giz chuckled.
“What?”
“You won’t be getting married because no woman would have you.”
Connor bristled. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Except for a few supernatural species, most marriages are based on monogamy. Do you need me to define it for you?”
He knew the definition of monogamy. He just never got into a situation where he had to practice it. Relationships were not his modus operandi.
“Very funny. Don’t tell me you’ve been drinking the happily-ever-after Kool-Aid.”
Giz grinned. “It’s hard not to thanks to all our teammates catching the lovebug.”
Lovebug, hell. It was more like love fungus or bacteria, or black mold. Connor and Giz were the only two of their five-man team who hadn’t succumbed. Which was more than fine with him.
Love made his brother and his friends more than a little stupid. And, Connor reluctantly had to admit, a lot happy. But he couldn’t imagine how he would ever find that kind of happiness—not that he was looking. He hoped for their sakes their happiness would last, but he’d never seen love work out over the long haul.
Of course he and Giz were handling this case while his teammates were spending time with their significant others. And after Connor and Giz wrote up their notes to send to the supernatural Tribunal and disposed of the magically toxic toaster, they would go back to the house, where they lived like a couple of overgrown frat boys, and stare at each other over pizza and beer. Which didn’t sound very appealing.
At all.
Nope, on second thought, he needed to go out and find a little no-strings companionship.
Variety—one. Monogamy—zero.
But then he wasn’t one to keep score.
