When a Lioness Pounces(3)

By: Eve Langlais


“If there was an infection, then it didn’t affect you,” he observed, almost applauding as Reba slashed her nails down a rather jarring green face then smiled sweetly before grabbing its head, yanking it down, and ramming the hard top of her knee into it. Crunch.

“Whatever it was, it didn’t affect those of us with half a brain. Although these two surprised me.” Jean Francois looked over at Derrick and Leif, two more loyal minions that had survived his staff purge.

“Perhaps we should offer a hand to the animals?” Gaston itched to, especially when a rather large cabalus tried to snare the woman he couldn’t stop watching.

I should step in and lend a hand.

Apparently, she didn’t need his help. She squeaked, grabbed the goblin by the head, and heaved him over her shoulder, throwing him to the ground. Then she pounced. Her savagery took away his breath.

She is magnificent. And it irritated him that she didn’t even seem to know he existed. And not for a lack of trying.

Jean Francois let out a low whistle. “Exactly what do you want to help them with? They are almost done.”

With a wave of his hand, Gaston gestured to the bodies around him. “This requires cleanup before the human authorities arrive.”

“A cleanup crew has already been called,” Arik announced, the golden-haired lion king also looking rather pristine. While many cultures depicted the male as the defender and warrior, lions were different. With them, the females took the active role, hunting and protecting. A lion was a fierce thing, but also a bit lazy. He roused himself for only the big issues. Whereas the lionesses, they made small issues into big issues just for the hell of it. Or so Gaston had learned recently when he investigated them.

For example, he knew the local lion pride consisted of the alpha, Arik, who called himself king of the concrete jungle. Then there was Hayder, his beta, and Leo, his omega. Add to that Jeoff, who headed the security firm they employed to keep the lion pride safe.

But they didn’t just have Jeoff, a werewolf with a small pack he used as enforcers. They had the lionesses, the fiercest force around. They took care of Gaston’s renegade employees, and Gaston didn’t even get a drop of blood on his suit. They resolved his situation and didn’t demand payment.

But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t give thanks. At least to one person.

He stepped over the bodies and approached the mocha-skinned beauty. She wore quite a bit of blood spatter. It didn’t detract from her loveliness. Actually, she smelled kind of yummy, and before anyone wrinkled their nose, he would note he had an affinity for dead things.

“Miss Reba Fillips. I am Gaston Charlemagne. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of truly meeting before.” He offered her a short bow.

She bent over to fix a shoelace, and the front of her shirt gaped, wide enough that he could see her breasts in all their unfettered glory.

It was wrong to stare. That didn’t stop him. So, of course, she caught him ogling.

She arched a brow. “Stare any longer and I’ll have to charge you.”

A real man didn’t apologize for admiring a woman’s assets, but he could commend her on other things. “I found myself most impressed by your fighting skill.”

She flicked him a glance, head to toe. “I can’t say that I’m very inspired by yours. I expected you to be more impressive.” She dropped her gaze to a point below his belt buckle.

Feisty. Nice. He couldn’t help but smile with plenty of teeth. “If I’d gotten involved, I might have ruined your fun like I did that night at the club.” Apparently, putting everyone to sleep before violence erupted was considered the height of rudeness by the lions.

Her lips tilted. “Good point. You probably would have faced a few angry kitties if you’d pulled that sleeping stunt again. I do so enjoy a good workout.”

No mistaking the innuendo. “I know of an intense regime if you’d like to try it.” He’d never been with a shifter before, mostly on account he thought there was something wrong with dating a pet, but he might have to revise that opinion. She might be a cat, but she’s definitely not tame.

“The only thing I am into right now is a shower.” Her nose wrinkled. “I smell like death.”

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