Page 60 of Covert Affections (Shadow Agents/PSI-Ops #5)

Chapter Forty-Six

Jesse

When awareness returned, Jesse found himself flat on his back, human again, with something wet dragging across his face.

His head was throbbing, but not from a headache so much as it felt like someone had tried to yank his hair clean off his head.

He opened his eyes to find a medium-size white dog with black spots licking him enthusiastically.

She looked like a blue heeler mix of some sort.

And she seemed very pleased to be licking his face.

He groaned and tried to push her away.

That only made the dog think he wanted to play. She jumped on his bare chest.

“Get off,” he said, a second before she licked his mouth and shoved her tongue in. “Gah. No!”

“Hey, Puss-N-Toots, you might wanna stop making out with Chuck-Wagon’s dog,” said a familiar, grating voice. “Unless that’s your thing. You into doggie style? Funny and all since you’re a cat. Why don’t you ever hear anyone call a sex position cat-style? You guys must be shit in bed.”

“We are not shit in bed,” said Jesse through clenched teeth.

“You slept with a lot of other cat shifters to know?” questioned Bill, sounding as if he was smirking.

Dick.

Jesse leveled a hard glare on the man. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

“That you know of,” returned Bill. “Women are always telling each other all the sordid details of their sexual ice capades. The women you’ve boned could be telling their friends the truth and lying to you to spare your pretty little feelings.”

“Do you mean sexual escapades?” inquired Jesse, his head feeling as if it might split then and there.

The sun had come up at some point and was starting to peek through the canopy of leaves above Jesse.

He wasn’t where he’d started, that much was clear.

Not to mention, the area smelled heavily of shit.

Jesse squinted and lifted his head a bit to find Bill sitting on the ground next to him. He groaned, unable to believe his luck could be so bad that he’d lose the fucking hybrids, get shot by a trigger-happy deputy, and have to deal with Bill.

“Where am I?” asked Jesse when he confirmed that he wasn’t at the base of the ravine he’d fallen into. He was still in the woods, but not in the spot he’d first landed in.

“Chuck-Wagon’s animal rescue is that way.

” Bill pointed to the right. “About a mile, maybe, if that. When Gus told me we had to come and get you—to save you from becoming extinct—I told him we should let you go. Even suggested we have your kitty corpse stuffed and put on display in one of them natural history museums. He wouldn’t hear of it.

So, I went and got your heavy ass. He’s been bellyaching about how I only dragged you this far.

” He grunted. “Like he lifted a finger to help drag you. Nope. Left me yanking you by your ankle, then your arm, and even your hair a few times. You need to go on a diet. You ain’t light, Kitty-Scat.

But I will hand it to you—you’ve got great hair.

Strong. Sturdy. Didn’t pull out too much while I was dragging you by it. ”

“You dragged me here?” asked Jesse, suddenly understanding why his head hurt when it was his hind quarters he’d been shot in.

“The crime scene is at least eight miles from the horse rescue,” returned Jesse, trying but failing to sit up because the dog had yet to stay off his chest. He moved her to his side, only for her to jump on him again. “So you dragged me seven miles?”

“Yep. Oh, look, the dog likes you. Kind of. When you were a cat still, she didn’t much care for you,” said Bill, his smile crooked. “Can’t say I blame her none. Oh, and sorry, not sorry, about your ankle. She might have gotten to you before I did when you were still a big ass kitty.”

Jesse turned his head, trying to keep from getting any more dog kisses. “About you dragging me.”

Bill exhaled loudly through his nose, the act causing a strange whistling sound, which Jesse wasn’t aware was possible.

Then again, he didn’t think nose hair could flap in a breeze, but looking at Bill now proved him wrong.

“Your cat form ain’t light there, Kitty-Scat.

It’s also kind of an asshole. Kept growling at me like it was pissed I was daring to move it away from the danger. ”

Jesse eyed him closely. “Were you, by chance, pulling me by my tail while I was shifted?”

Bill shrugged once more. “Tell you what, next time you wanna get shot in the ass, how about you pass out in a better spot? Pussy.”

Jesse refrained from killing the man. For now. There was no way he’d be able to pull off working with him at the rescue.

Bill continued, “In my day, we walked eight miles uphill both ways, in a snowstorm, with our arm freshly chopped off. You Gen-Assholes are weak. You let one little shotgun blast to your ass take you out. Pul-eeze , I’ve been shot in my ass more times than I can count.

Most of them by ladies. Some not. One of my ex-girlfriends used to have a bat that she kept in her car.

” He shook his head, looking off in the distance, a smile tugging at his lips. “That woman had one hell of a swing.”

“Gen-Asshole?” asked Jesse with a huff, not wanting to dive into why women would be shooting at Bill or going at him with a bat.

Not that he blamed the women any. He fully understood the urge to end the man.

“Pretty sure I’m older than you. And my generation would be called something else.

I don’t know what but I’m sure it’s not Gen-Asshole. ”

“Yeah, it would be called long since dead,” added Bill, before he waggled his bushy brows. “And are you sure you’re older than me?”

Jesse rubbed his temple, trying to chase away the pain. He had a sneaking suspicion his headache had less to do with Bill dragging him by his hair seven miles, and more to do with Bill in general. “I’m a lot older than I look.”

“Diet toes,” replied Bill smugly.

Jesse’s brow furrowed. “What?”

Bill glanced off to the tree line, looking at something Jesse couldn’t see. Bill shook his head. “You sure? Ditto don’t sound right. Diet toes seems more like it.”

Jesse had no idea who in the hell the man was talking to. It was more than likely another of his personalities or something. Maybe Jesse would get lucky and another of Bill’s personalities would take over and shower. The man’s smell was beyond off-putting.

Movement to near the trees caught Jesse’s attention.

Gus stepped out wearing arm-length disposable gloves, a gas mask, water boots, and overalls with a shirt that had Lindy’s bar logo on it.

The mannequin head he’d had at the job fair was nowhere to be seen.

Gus’s gaze was averted, but he inched closer all the same.

Bill grumbled, picking up a stick that was next to him on the ground. “I ain’t gonna be nice to him, Gus. He’s the enemy.”

Gus turned in a circle and moaned loudly.

“You keep saying he ain’t, but I don’t believe you. He’s with The Corporation,” returned Bill. “Nobody good is with them.”

Gus came even closer.

The dog jumped off Jesse’s chest and ran to the tall man’s side. She sat next to Gus’s leg, pressing against him.

Gus’s hand found the top of her head, but he didn’t glance down at her.

Bill poked Jesse in the hip with the stick.

Pain shot through Jesse. “Ouch!”

Bill snickered.

Gus moaned again.

“Fine. I’ll be nicer to him. But he’s got to prove to me he ain’t evil,” Bill said before glancing toward Jesse’s groin.

“And he’s gotta tell me how it is he got handed a willie that big.

I don’t understand why all the op guys got such big dicks.

Was there some kind of meeting that decided this?

A committee that voted on it? How come I wasn’t invited?

Who do I gotta write to for them to re-evaluate mine? My senator?”

“Stop staring at my dick,” warned Jesse.

“Or you’ll what? Growl and pass out… again ?” questioned Bill, his tone mocking. “I’m terrified.”

“You’re kind of an asshole,” stated Jesse.

“Speaking of assholes,” said Bill with a sly grin. “I may or may not have gotten all the buckshot out of yours.”

“You better not have been anywhere near my ass.” Jesse’s eyes widened. “Were you near it?”

“You’ll never know,” Bill fired back with a laugh.

“If I had the energy, I’d kill you right now.” Jesse flipped him off instead.

“Nah. You alphas threaten me all the time. Yet, here I sit,” he said with a raise of his shoulders and his brows. “I ain’t too worried about it.”

Jesse rolled onto his side, putting his back to Bill as he made a move to get up. Pain shot through his hip once more. He hissed.

Bill poked him with the stick again, clearly getting joy from the act.

“Stop bellyaching. I picked out most of the buckshot. You’ll heal up soon enough.

You should have seen it before. I took a picture for my scrapbook.

” He lifted a hand making a motion as if writing something in the air.

“When Kitty-Scat got shot in the ass. Perfect.”

“How did you know I was shot at all and where to find me?” questioned Jesse as he swatted at Bill’s stick, which somehow found its way to Jesse’s ass crack. He strongly suspected that wasn’t an accident.

Bill thumbed toward Gus, who had taken an odd interest in the leaves on the trees above. “He knew.”

“How?” Jesse asked, pushing to his feet only to lose his balance and stagger.

Bill was up and to Jesse in the blink of an eye, moving faster than a human should be able to, helping to steady him.

Jesse pulled his arm away. “Why are you helping me?”

Bill glanced past Jesse at a pile of leaves on the forest floor. “Didn’t want you stepping in that big pile of shit. It’s under the leaves—used them to wipe. That pile is kind of on the fresh side still.”

Jesse cringed. “I shit out here while in cat form, and I wiped my ass across leaves?”

That explained the smell in the area. He’d assumed the smell was Bill.