Page 17

I chuckled softly at his reaction. “You’re more sensitive than my clitoris.” I ripped the curtain all the way open. “Your turn.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Well then. This should be an interesting evening,” I purred.

“Might as well tinkle while we’re in here.

What’ll happen if I fall asleep on the couch?

Are you going to carry me into the bathroom and lay me down on the sink while you do your business?

” I tugged his wrist and smiled, tickled by how modest he was compared to most men.

Lucian entered the hallway. “Then let’s go outside.”

“You are not peeing in my yard.”

“It’s quieter. The water in the bowl makes”—he swallowed hard—“too much noise.”

I laughed. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Besides, the only one allowed to mark my territory is my animal. She’ll get agitated if someone else puts their scent all over the place. Let’s just get this over with all at once.”

Recognizing his discomfort, I stepped into the shower and lifted the shower curtain over the cuffs until my arm was sticking out the back end.

I stood in the center of the tub to give him enough slack.

When I didn’t hear anything, I turned on the faucet, and the water noisily splashed in the tub and chilled my bare feet.

It wasn’t enough to drown out everything, but at least I wouldn’t have to sing.

If I were a bird Shifter, I’d have no problem slipping out of these cuffs. I really hope Connor didn’t lose the key.

After he flushed the toilet, I turned off the water.

As soon as I stepped out, my wet foot slipped on the tile.

I grappled Lucian’s shoulders to catch myself, but when he jerked his arm back to grab the towel bar, it yanked my hand off his shoulder.

I lost my balance, and the momentum took us down as we tumbled to the floor.

My body draped over his like a tablecloth.

He stared up at the ceiling with a defeated look. “This is the worst day of my life.”

I patted his chest. “As long as you didn’t eat any refried beans last night, it’ll be fine.”

“I broke your towel bar.”

“I need to renovate this room anyhow.”

“You should start by getting rid of that popcorn ceiling.”

We climbed to our feet and stood before the sink.

Lucian ran the faucet and pumped soap onto his hands, giving them a good lather. “What’s your animal?”

After he moved his hands out of the way, I filled my palms with the lavender-scented soap. “Why do you ask?”

“If you were an avian, you could shift out of these cuffs.”

“I was just thinking the exact same thing.”

“Unless you were an ostrich. It would tear through your wing.”

Our hands briefly touched while we rinsed, and it gave me nervous butterflies for some reason.

When Lucian finished, he opened my medicine cabinet and studied the contents.

I stretched across him and closed the door. “Don’t snoop.”

“I was looking for bandages to wrap beneath the cuffs so they don’t bruise my wrist.”

“Or maybe you were snooping.”

“What’s the power charger for?”

“Never you mind.” I turned off the water and met his eyes in the mirror. “To answer your previous question, I’m a tiger.”

After drying our hands, we switched off the light and moseyed down the hallway.

“Tigers aren’t native to Africa,” he said as if solving a puzzle. “You mentioned your father’s from Africa.”

“Shifters aren’t native to any one place. We traveled across continents long before humans—we might even be older than them.”

Lucian halted. His cheeks puffed in and out as he pulled in the air and tasted it—something I’d seen Chitahs do before. Even my tiger did the same thing.

“What’s wrong?” I tried not to sound alarmed.

“Smoke.”

I rushed toward the kitchen, but Lucian jerked the chain, stopping me in my tracks.

“It’s not coming from there.” He turned around and stalked toward the back door while tugging the chain to quicken my pace.

In the twilight hour, stars twinkling in the horizon, a fire danced on my back property. I flung open the door and sprinted toward an old shed on the back lot, glad that Lucian was keeping up.

A white sheet of paper on the ground caught my eye. I picked up the rock that pinned it to the dirt and read the note. All it said was: Watch Your Back .

“Who’s it from?” Lucian grabbed the paper.

“I don’t know.”

He pulled it to his nose and inhaled. A snarl ripped through him as he scanned the property. “It’s that prick from the jailhouse.”

“Marcus? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

I dropped the rock. “Let’s go inside.”

“I can track him.”

“I’m not leaving my father alone.”

Glowing embers danced beneath the billowing smoke as they ascended to the dark skies above. I coughed when I inhaled a lungful of smoke. “Let it burn out. The hose doesn’t reach this far anyhow.”

“Your house could catch fire,” he argued while following behind me.

“There’s no wind, and it’s humid out here from all that rain we’ve been getting. This old timber isn’t worth saving.”

“You should own a fire extinguisher.”

“Add it to my list.”

I was fuming. Lucian pulling a scent from a piece of paper next to a burning building wasn’t hard evidence.

Even if it was, we couldn’t do much about a threat.

Our laws weren’t all-encompassing. Arson was only a serious offense if they burned down a house, business, or injured someone in the act.

In those cases, reparations were sought, not jail time.

I shut the back door and watched the flames quickly die out.

“We get threats all the time, Lucian. Last month, Hiroki received a letter detailing how they were going to dispose of his body. We can’t build giant prison systems, and whatever space we have is reserved for serious crimes.

It’s also important that we’re consistent, so I can’t lock up one person for arson but free another. ”

“Threatening your life is pretty serious,” he growled while securing both locks on the door. “Have you considered an underground home? I have a friend who had one for security reasons.”

“That’s not the life I want to live. Anyhow, it’s not worth it. In most cases, they’re empty threats. They think if they intimidate us, we’ll be lenient on them or quit our posting, but nobody’s running me out of my home. Nobody.”

He leaned against the wall and sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to revise my plans to include an escape route from the basement. If someone sets your house on fire, you’ll cook down there. We can build an escape hatch on the property that’s camouflaged like the local terrain.”

“Do what you must.”

He rubbed his nose. “Your anxiety is bothering me.”

Poor Lucian couldn’t escape my emotional drama. I spotted the game table on the left wall and decided we needed a diversion. “Do you know how to play checkers?”

One corner of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Are you kidding? I’m a master player.”

“That sounds like a challenge,” I purred. “Come help me with dinner and we’ll have a friendly game afterward.”