Page 72 of Hellhound Marshal

Youarehis mate,her dragon said.

I’m going to ignore you more if you’re going to get this talkative.

Theo had also stocked her mini-fridge with a motley assortment of convenience store food, including a few pre-packaged salads that Iz now set out for the fluffalo.

They were messy eaters, and shredded lettuce sprayed around like confetti, but they were entirely too cute for Iz to mind. She hand-fed Cat some lettuce and jerky, and when he was full, he went back to bracelet mode.

She put her hair up, sprayed on a little perfume, and retouched her makeup.

And she became aware that she was stalling, which wouldn’t do. She needed to make a solemn vow that tonight wouldn’t be about her nervousness; it would just be about Logan.

She resolutely ignored the inconvenient fact that she’d more or less made that exact same solemn vow ten minutes ago and it obviously hadn’t worked.

But as hard as it was to change the well-trodden paths her brain kept wanting to go down, shecouldcontrol what she did, and she was going to. As her mother would say, a lady’s thoughts might be unruly, and even her hair in desperate circumstances, butneverher manners or her actions.

Iz steeled herself, squared her shoulders, and patted the fluffalo goodbye. (She made sure to keep an enormous distance between them and her black dress but reassured them that it would be fair game once she came back.)

Before she could head out, however, there was a knock at her door. When she glanced at the peephole, she expected to see Logan.

Instead, it was her mother, who swept her into a bone-crushing hug as soon as Iz let her in.

Iz didn’t mind that in the slightest. She could use the comfort right now.

But to keep up an aura of adult independence, she said, “I thought we did the big reunion already.”

“We did, but it was in front of people,” her mother said, giving her a final, emphatic squeeze before she let her go. “I had to maintain my dignity, not to mention yours. But I wanted to hug the life out of you, Isabelle.”

Iz smiled. “Mission accomplished.”

Her mother’s eyes swept down her, and Iz knew instantly that she was taking in the full implications of Iz’s outfit. She was the one who had taught Iz all the subtle variations between a professional wardrobe, upscale civilian event gowns, and date night dresses; there was no way Iz could fool her into mistakingwhyshe had suddenly gotten dressed to the nines.

To her surprise, her mother’s face lit up with approval.

“It’s Deputy Marshal Vega, isn’t it? He seems like an excellent choice.”

Iz blinked. If anything, she’d expected her mother to assume it was Simon or Keith, both of whom were more traditionally polished and more like the kinds of men Isabelle’s mother had foisted on her from time to time; she hadn’t expected to be this transparent.

It shocked her into admitting the truth. “He’s more than my choice. He’s my mate.”

Her mother beamed. “Oh, Isabelle, I’m so happy for you!” She wrapped her in another boa constrictor-like hug and kissed her on the cheek. “You know, you and Theo both found your mates when you went out in the world. Riell raises everyone to believe that it’s almost impossible, but it’s only almost impossible because we don’tleave. I’m going to start encouraging more of your generation to put themselves out there.”

Her mother liked civic projects. Iz was willing to bet that she would whip Riell into shape and bring it into the twenty-first century whether the village liked it or not.

“You already knew it was Logan,” Iz said, putting her hometown’s future aside for the moment. “How?”

“Darling, the two of you couldn’t look away from each other for more than a minute. You saved each other from that appalling—” She sputtered, too elegant to come up with the appropriate word.

“Fuck-weasel,” Iz suggested.

“Isabelle!”

“Ball-sack full of dead dicks.”

“Where do you evenhearthese terms?” her mother said, scandalized. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t even want to know. Anyway, he’s none of those things. Weasels are just innocent animals, whether they’re ...making loveor not. And a—the other thing you said—would just be unfortunate and sordid. This Sebastian is considerably worse. He’s an arrogant, cruel man who only loves control and causing pain. I will call him what he is.”

Iz swallowed. It was impossible to argue with the image of Sebastian her mother had painted, and itdidfeel more accurate than any crude and snappy description she could come up with. “You make a good case for appropriate language.”

“Thank you.” Her mother smoothed back Iz’s hair and pressed a kiss to her overheated forehead. “A vile man, whatever you want to call him. One who should not get to interfere with you taking an evening with your Logan. I hope you have a beautiful night.”


Tags: Zoe Chant Fantasy