Thinning the Herd Read Online Free

but Hal knew better. The emotion burning incandescent behind Desdemona’s blue eyes was admiration. And love.
    She fluttered her fingers; their glossy black nails enchanted him. “Get lost, creep.”
    Ah, more words of love and devotion from his luscious Desdemona. Hal smiled. “No, seriously. You’re in danger. There’s a shape-shifting serial killer working the Country Fair.”
    Desdemona stared at him. Her black lips parted, “Listen, fruitcake, if you keep bothering me, I’ll eviscerate you.”
    Fruitcake . A new term of endearment. And eviscerate . Little bon-mots of love spoken in code, since theirs was a forbidden relationship—Goth and non-Goth. She’d be shunned if her Goth friends discovered their union, and he could never do that to her—never.
    â€œWait on selling your clothing line until after the killer is caught,” Hal whispered. He slid his hand along the counter’s worn surface. She pulled her hand away. Teasing. Enticing.
    â€œHow do you know what I’m doing?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
    â€œHow do I not?” he countered. He too could tease and entice.
    â€œYou following me, jerkwad?”
    Hal sucked in a breath, nearly swooning with pleasure. The smell of her perfume, incense and smoke and cloves, filled his nostrils. Creep. Fruitcake. Jerkwad. No man could be luckier.
    â€œI think you’d better go,” Desdemona said. “If I catch you following me . . .” She drew a black-nailed finger across her throat.
    Hal backed up to the door, unable and unwilling to take his eyes off her lovely face. He blew her a kiss. “I’ll be guarding you.”
    â€œGuard this,” she replied, flipping up her middle finger.
    Laughing, Hal walked out of the store. Yet another gesture of love from his Desdemona Cohen. He couldn’t wait for the day when she asked for his name. But until then creep would do. And fruitcake . And jerkwad .
    Hal walked through the parking lot to the bus shelter. He had to get a little sleep, then meet up with Nick and Galahad. They had a killer to hunt.
    *  *   *
    Hal pulled the pickup into the Shari’s parking lot. He glanced at his Timex. Ten-oh-three in the p.m., baby. Time for a break and a meeting of the minds. Climbing out of the pickup, Hal locked it, then picked up his catch pole. He walked around to the back of the restaurant and plopped down onto the curb next to the Dumpsters, breathing through his mouth to avoid their gag-inducing fragrance.
    He nodded at the orange tabby licking its extended leg. Gold gleamed at its throat. “Hey, Gally,” he said. “Where’s Nick?”
    Galahad stopped preening, although his leg remained extended. His green gaze looked in the direction of the Dumpsters. A can clattered. Claws screek ed against metal. Hal winced at the sound and clenched his teeth. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Sounded almost like a dentist’s drill.
    Galahad stared at him, leg still extended, eyes filled with street light.
    â€œI’m okay,” Hal said, managing a smile.
    Galahad resumed preening.
    A huge wolf leapt out of the Dumpster, landing easily on all four paws, a banana peel draped across its muzzle. Its black lips wrinkled back, revealing sharp, saliva-dripping fangs. A low growl rumbled up from its throat.
    Most definitely not Nick.
    â€œYeah? Y’think?” Hal challenged, easing onto his feet. He tightened his grip on his catch pole. “Sounds to me like some full-of-itself lycan needs a whupping from a badass dogcatcher.”
    The wolf sprang.
    Hal spun, swinging the catch pole around, moving so fast, the pole was just a whistling blur of polished wood and steel. But the wolf zigged at the last second and the pole sliced through empty air.
    Whirling, pole extended, Hal danced across the parking lot, a deadly dervish of death. The lycan scrabbled to a stop, spun around, then chased after him. Snarling,