“Really, Sean, you should have known better,” said Dawn, shaking her head.
He shrugged, sheepish. “She’s just so cute and sweet. Or, at least, I thought she was sweet.”
Giggling, Rayna reached up and petted the bearcat’s foot. “I have to go now. My momma’s calling me. Bye!” She used her plush toy’s paw to wave and then skipped away.
Havana glanced over her shoulder at the bearcat. “Shift. We gotta go.”
In no time at all, Aspen was back in her human form and fully dressed.
“Thanks again for coming,” said Dawn, patting Havana’s arm. “And Aspen, thanks for allowing Rayna to play with your animal.”
“Not a problem,” said Aspen.
Havana raised a brow at the cougar. “Same time next week?”
Dawn smiled. “That would be great.”
Outside the shelter, Havana squinted as the harsh glare of the sunlight stung her eyes.
“Damn, it’s hot,” said Aspen. “I think I might go sit on our rooftop when we get home and just lounge in the sun. You up for it?”
“Sure, why not?”
Walking through the parking lot, Havana waved at the two pallas cats who were leaning against their car. They simply nodded in response.
Just then, Aspen’s phone began to ring. She checked her phone screen, grimaced slightly, and then pocketed her cell without answering it.
“Who’s that?” asked Havana.
“Camden.”
“You’re not going to take the call?”
“Not when he’s only gonna yell at me again for not telling him that Randy got in my face at the center.”
“You had to know that someone would tell him. I mean, he works at the center.”
“I was fine with him knowing, but I wasn’t going to be the one who tattled. I don’t want to come between him and his partners, even if I don’t like said partners.”
“I guess I can understand that.” Knowing her friend wouldn’t want to talk about it further, Havana said, “I’m thinking of cooking spaghetti and meatballs tonight.”
Aspen’s brows lifted slightly. “Ooh, can I wangle myself an invite?”
“I don’t see why not, so long as your bearcat and Bailey’s mamba don’t—” She cut off as the pallas cats yelled something from the other side of the lot while hurrying toward her. Havana tensed, realizing Deke was shouting “Get down!” and Isaiah was bellowing “Duck!”
She was about to drop when a crack of thunder split the air. She flinched as a red-hot impact sank into her throat, causing an explosion of pain.
Time seemed to slow down as Havana swayed. She smelled blood. Felt warm liquid on her neck. Would have reached up to prod the liquid if her limbs didn’t suddenly feel like noodles.
There were more cracks of thunder. Hot pain punched into her stomach, and then into her shoulder. Fuck. A gray blur gathered around the edges of her vision, and her devil went insane.
Just as Havana’s knees gave out, she heard Aspen’s panicked curse, the screeching of tires, and the pounding of heavy footsteps.
Havana slumped to the ground, choking on … something.
“Stay awake, Havana!” screeched Aspen. “Stay a-fucking-wake!”
She couldn’t. She could feel herself fading. She could feel a strange darkness creeping over her until there was just … nothing.
Seated at his dining table, Tate glared at the female opposite him. Ashlynn sat with her back straight, her body rigid, and her eyes hard as stone. Probably because he’d just calmly but coldly reamed her up first one side then the other—and he’d done it in front of both Luke and Farrell, hence the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.
Still furious about the scene at the Tavern last night, Tate had already called in first Eva and then Aimee—both of whom had apologized before he spoke a single word—to give them a verbal smackdown. There’d been no instant apology from Ashlynn. She’d strolled into the room with her chin up and her shoulders squared.
“I can’t believe you’re pissed at me for what happened,” she said.
“You instigated the whole thing. It was bad enough that you had so little respect for the pride as to start a fight in our own damn hangout. That the person you targeted was under my protection only made it worse. It meant she should have also been under your protection.”
“She struck first,” Ashlynn defended.
“Yeah, devils tend to do that. You knew that when you provoked her,” Tate accused. “You were counting on it so that she’d later get the blame for whatever occurred.”
Generally, pallas cats didn’t pick fights. They didn’t bother you so long as you didn’t bother them. So it might have been easy for people to believe that Havana had been the one to start that shit if Ashlynn hadn’t spent hours shooting her challenging glares.
“You were looking for a fight,” Tate added. “And when Havana didn’t give you one, you took it to the next level and confronted her.”
“No, I just wanted to chat with her. That’s all. I heard about the Gideon situation, I reassured her that our pride would take care of it and that you’d take it seriously. If I’d been her, I’d have wanted that reassurance. I was being nice.”