The Order of Brigid's Cross - The Wild Hunt (Book 1): The Wild Hunt by Terri Reid Read Free Book Online

the mattress next to him
and rolling onto his stomach, grabbing his pillow to cover his head. “I’m still
sleeping.”
    Having little to no regard for his human, Tiny, purring with
pleasure that he had finally awakened the man, proceeded to knead, his claws
out, Sean’s back. “Ouch, dammit Tiny, stop it!” Sean yelled into the mattress.
    The cat merely purred louder and increased the kneading
until Sean sat up in bed. “Tiny,” Sean yelled, glancing over at the clock.
“It’s seven o’clock in the morning. I got in at three.   I’ve only had four hours of sleep. Can’t you
give me a break?”
    The cat lifted up its front paws and threw its body against
Sean’s chest in an affectionate rub. “I know it’s time for breakfast,” Sean
said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “But, really, you could live on the
fat of the land for weeks.”
    Ignoring Sean’s hurtful comments, the cat lovingly threw
twenty-five pounds of vibrating hair against the man’s chest. Sighing loudly,
Sean whipped the covers off his legs and stood up. Clad only in boxers and a
t-shirt, he looked at the robe hanging on the back of the bedroom door. “No, if
I put my robe on, I’ll stay up,” he muttered. “One can of cat food and I’m back
to bed.”
    He pulled the door open and strode down the hall into the
kitchen, immediately going to the cupboard that held several months’ supply of
cat food.   His refrigerator and cabinets
might be empty of human food, but he always made sure there was plenty for
Tiny.
    Grabbing a can of wild Alaskan Salmon cat food, he suddenly
felt his personal early warning system respond and froze.
    “Well, I feel a little overdressed,” a woman’s voice stated.
    Sean turned quickly, automatically reaching for a gun that
wasn’t there. “You!” he exclaimed.
    She nodded her head in acknowledgement, flipping her long,
red hair behind her shoulders, and slipped onto a bar stool on the other side
of the kitchen counter. She was dressed in workout clothes, black capris and a
short sleeved shirt. “How are you doing, Sean?”
    He stared at the woman who had been in his dreams since he
was twelve.   A woman who, until a few
months ago, he thought was just an unusual, but incredibly hot, figment of his
imagination. The same woman who only weeks ago had saved his
life by beheading some kind of creature in the bowels of the Grant Park
Underground Parking Lot.
    “I don’t remember if I thanked you,” he said.
    She shrugged easily. “Doesn’t matter,” she said, the Irish
lilt in her voice even more pronounced. “I don’t believe I thanked you when you
saved me life so many years ago.”
    He leaned back against the stove, glanced down at his boxers
and blushed. “I—I apologize for my attire,” he grimaced, dropping the can,
rushing over and pulling out a chef’s apron from a drawer. He slipped it on and
tied it securely in the back. “Well, I guess this is better than nothing.”
    She grinned. “You never know,” she said. “I might have
preferred nothing.”
    “Yeah, well, not until you at least take me out for dinner,”
he tossed back.
    Tiny jumped up on the counter and knocked his head against
Sean’s hand. “Yeah, just a minute, Tiny,” he said, picking up the can of food
again. “You don’t have your sword.”
    She smiled again. “I don’t generally take it on social
calls,” she replied.
    “Is this what this is?” he asked. “A
social call?”
    She nodded. “Aye,” she said, “and a
warning.”
    Pulling the top off the can, Sean scooped the contents out
of the can into Tiny’s dish, and the cat lumbered across the counter to his
breakfast.
    “I normally don’t like cats,” she said, running her fingers
along Tiny’s back, the cat arching in response. “But this one has charm.”
    “Thanks,” Sean replied, but kept his mind on the
conversation. “You said something about a warning.”
    She stood and walked over to the door, lifting the metal
trivet he’d hung