Bloody Claws (Camren) Book 3

Chapter 1

I spun in my seat, pressing the large black button on the wireless intercom. The intercoms were new and for the past several days, I'd entertained myself immensely by driving June insane with them. I didn't need to see her flying out of her seat every time the little box buzzed to know she still hadn't gotten used to them.

"What?" she grumbled.

"June?" I asked, waiting to see what kind of response she would come up with this time. The last time, she'd accused me of trying to give her a heart attack and threatened to throw the intercom systems in the trash. I was the boss, but June was my I-don't-give-a-shit-what-you-think-of-my-attitude secretary. She was one tough broad. I respected her for that.

"What is it, Miss Cabello?" Her words were polite. Her tone was not. I smiled to the empty room.

"Seeing if you're still here."

There was a long pause. "And where the heck would I go?"

"I don't know," I said, aimlessly strangling the pencil on my desk with a rubber band. "There's a strip club three blocks away. Maybe there?"

I waited. It wouldn't take long for her to lose her patience. I know it was petty of me, childish even, but a woman had to have some fun. June proved to be a good source of entertainment on a slow day at the office.

"To see what?" she asked, exasperated. I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold in the burst of laughter that threatened to erupt. "If I wanted to see naked hillbillies, I'd go home and tell my husband to strip."

I pressed the button and said, laughing, "Good one."

Ten minutes later the intercom screeched like a little boxed banshee and I jumped, stifling a growl.

"Ms. Cabello," June said in a voice that was way too nice to be authentic. "Your five o'clock appointment, Skyler Felts, is here."

I slipped my stocking clad feet into the heels I'd kicked off under the desk. "Send her in," I said, trying to pull my attire back together. I took the black blazer off the back of the chair and slipped it on over the white blouse I was wearing. If it weren't for the wide legged black trousers and the heels, the suit might've made me look more like a Secret Service agent than a Preternatural Investigator. I was fairly certain Secret Service agents were smart enough to wear flats, though.

I was wearing my gun, a Kimber Eclipse Lauren had given me as a gift, tucked into the shoulder rig. The shoulder rig had been a late birthday present from Shawn. He'd said Lauren wouldn't be able to rip it off me. I wasn't sure I believed it was indestructible, but Lauren and I hadn't exactly tested the theory. Call me cautious, but I was reluctant to sacrifice another holster.

I checked the mirror in my office, making sure the blazer hid the bulk of the weapon. I tucked the white streak in my long brown hair behind my ear.

Most clients tend to get uncomfortable around guns, but I was a cop before I was infected with the lycanthropy virus, and some habits die hard. I still work with the cops, but now I make my own schedule. I don't have to worry about the full moon interfering with my job and so far, I've done pretty good at keeping my secret from my ex-colleagues.

There was the barest of knocks on the frosted glass door.

"Come in."

The door opened. "Ms. Cabello?" A girl stood in the doorway, casting an uncertain glance into the room.

I went to the door and held it open. "Yes." I offered my hand. "I'm Camila. Are you Skyler?"

"Yeah."

She took my hand and gave it a firm shake. I motioned for her to take a seat and she did so, running a hand through her long raven colored hair. 

Skyler Felts was an androgynous beauty. The long hair suited the sharp line of her jaw. Smoky eye shadow brought out the brown of her irises. Her lips had a natural sullen pout to them.