Chapter Seven
Maisey
I eat eggs and toast and drink coffee.The night is late so I’m surprised when my phone rings and it’s Paul, my boss.
“Hey.”I press it to my ear.
“Why haven’t I heard from you?”he snaps.
“Er ...it’s nearly midnight, Paul.”
“All day, all day you’ve been AWOL.And that combined with the ridiculous message about some attachment that wasn’t there.What have you been doing?”
I grimace and rub my temples, aware that two big growly shifter men are watching me intently and would not like Paul should they ever meet him.He was opinionated, mean-talking, and did not run a happy ship.
“You said you were working on the urban myth column,” he goes on, “but I have nothing, zilch, nada, you really are asking for me to drop you from it.From everything!”
“I have another two days to submit.”
“And will you?Because right now I have as much confidence in you writing something as I have in a gnat’s fart blowing out a Californian wildfire.”
I raise my eyebrows.That is a new one.
“I will, I promise, Paul.I’ve got an idea.”I look at Elias and then Branson.Handsome and wild and wriggling their way into my heart faster than I could have ever imagined.I feel not just safe with them but as though I finally belong after a lifetime of not.
“What is this grand idea?”he snaps.
I bite on my bottom lip.There’s no way I am going to spill a single secret of the underworld.Not even to save my job.“It’s about bats, big bats, stealing people’s handbag dogs.You know, little Chihuahaus, Pomeranians, and that.”
“What?”I hear the incredulity in his voice.
“Apparently, it’s happening more and more.People are being advised not to take their dogs out at night.”
“I haven’t heard that.”
“It’s true, Paul, or at least the rumor is.I want to see if it’s an urban myth or if it really happens.People need to know.”
He hesitates.“I suppose it could work.”
“Yes.”I nod, warming to my subject.“And I have an interview set up with a woman who says she fought the bat off when it went for her pug.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“And she’s sure it was a bat?”
“I’ll know more when I interview her.I have to go.Will be in touch.”
Before he can say anything, I hang up and slide the phone across the table, needing as much distance between myself and him as I can get.
“Bats stealing dogs.”Branson raises his eyes at me and grins.“Imaginative.”
“Who was that douchebag?”Elias asks.
“You heard him, huh?”
