Page 4 of Fool Me Twice
“I tried. He didn’t want to leave me.” Wren squished his cheek against Sable’s, making it bunch up cutely. “We’ve bonded.”
Hart blew out a breath through his nose. “You say that about every animal you uncurse.”
Wren pouted, batting sad lashes. “But he needs me.”
Hart rolled his eyes, but despite the terror, he honestly couldn’t say he didn’t feel bad looking at the thing. It had clearly been very badly mistreated. And that was the problem, really. With humans, things could be trickier—the reasons for curses, the arguments over whether someone deserved it or not. Not that Hart wanted to get into the philosophical mental gymnastics of that this morning.
With animals there was none of that.
It was cut and dry. They never deserved it. They had no way of fighting back against a caster’s magic. They were pawns for people with bad intentions.
And Wren’s beautiful, bleeding heart couldn’t stand it.
Which meant their house was full of rescues of every shape and size. So much so that they’d had to put strict rules in place. Rules Wren conveniently ‘forgot’ quite often. He had a devious streak a mile wide that Hart wasn’t sure all his brothers had caught on to even after all these years, too distracted by Ash’s and Black’s more obvious shenanigans.
“We can discuss it tonight,” Hart said, watching a triumphant smile start to form at the corners of Wren’s lips.
“Thank you,” Wren said demurely. He knew he’d already won.
“Fix left you some breakfast.” Hart grabbed it from the microwave, sliding it across the island so he didn’t have to get close to Sable.
Wren chirped in happiness, a literal birdcall, and popped to his feet to grab it. He was only an inch taller than Black, which made him about six inches shorter than most of the rest of their team, his head just reaching Hart’s shoulder. The baggy, distressed clothes he always wore didn’t help matters, drowning him and making him look minuscule.
Hart ran his gaze over Wren’s bare skin, noting every new scratch or bite, and the extra bandages. They never failed to make his heart clench a little, even though Wren was more than capable. His pain tolerance alone put most of theirs to shame.
“I take it everything went well with your case?” Hart said.
Wren nodded. “More black-market shit. I handed over the details to PUMA and just concentrated on rescuing the darlings.”
Sable began licking at Wren’s bare ankle, his baggy sleep shorts providing ample space for the jaguar to groom his new favorite thing. Wren paid the cat bath zero attention, picking out the nuts from the top of his oatmeal with his fingers and nibbling the pieces individually.
“You got a case today?” he asked between crunches.
Hart shook his head. “Nothing ongoing. I’ll check what Taylor has when I get into the office. Are you coming in today?”
Wren shrugged one shoulder just before another chirp sounded and an actual wren came flying into the room to land there. Its blue breast shone like silk, and it hopped in excitement, its jerky movements and chirrups for attention making Wren giggle. He offered a seed from his breakfast and the greedy bird gobbled it up.
The jaguar on the floor rumbled, the sound like a car engine, and Wren turned a stern look on him. “Sable, this is Blu, and you’re going have to get used to him and not try and eat him, okay?”
The jaguar made a caterwauling sound in dissent that was truly the most horrifying thing Hart had ever heard, spiking his heart rate.
Wren looked down impassively, Blu doing the same on his shoulder. “Don’t throw a temper tantrum. I’ll still cuddle you the most.”
Sable grumpily laid his head on the floor and Wren stroked his back with his bare toes, getting a tail wrapped around his ankle in response.
“On that note, I’ll head out,” Hart said, adjusting his suit jacket. “Sable, there is no greater glory than love, nor any greater punishment than jealousy.”
The cat swung intelligent, glowing eyes his way and Hart gulped.
“Just food for thought.”
He hurried out of the room as Wren called a cheery goodbye, Hart watching over his shoulder until he was safely outside. He breathed in the fresh morning air—much cleaner than the pollution inside the city that could be seen over the tree line in the distance. Smoke from the trains was rising in heavy, noxious clouds to join the plumes from the factories.
Hart tore his gaze away from it and walked around the porch to the back of the house, where they parked their cars. His own sleek black sedan and Wren’s muddy SUV that still had his metal animal trailer attached to it were the only ones left. Hart checked around himself surreptitiously before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a familiar metal case.
His fingers were still shaking as he popped it open to admire the single white stick inside, slightly burned down. His heart raced at the sight of it, his mouth watering in a Pavlovian response as his body shot messages to his brain that told him he needed it.
He knew better. He was quitting. This wasn’t healthy.