Kim Dare

Between Tooth And Paw

Chapter One

“This is an incredibly stupid idea.”

“It is the only way.”

“If they kill each other off, that is one thing. But, I will not condone throwing the girl in the middle of it all.”

Jasmine Neal knelt naked in the middle of the hotel bedroom. Her training had long ago instilled in her that during a scene a submissive’s gaze should never rise from the floor. Unable to look up and see anyone’s face, she watched various pairs of expensive shoes walk around her as a dozen eyes trailed over her skin, examining her body from every angle.

Forcing herself to stay still under their casual inspection, she made yet another attempt to work out which voice belonged to which pair of circling shoes.

“Perhaps she will be a good influence on them.” A woman’s voice. High heeled stilettos-very expensive but discreetly so-they fitted the cultured tone of voice perfectly. Old money, a vampire perhaps.

“Huh!” That exclamation, no doubt, belonged to the scuffed loafers. The edge of the man’s trousers had frayed where they’d rubbed on the floor. Poor perhaps or, more likely given the situation, a man who was simply careless of clothes and appearances. Perhaps, a man who felt more at home in a fur coat than a tailored suit-a werewolf.

“Then perhaps she will distract them,” the woman suggested.

“The situation has been explained to her and humans are far more resilient than you give them credit for. I have every confidence she will survive the encounter.”

Jasmine didn’t need the help of footwear to identify that voice. She knew Mr. Washington ’s voice very well. Harsh, commanding and undeniably dominant. Even if she hadn’t known already, she would have guessed he’d wear military boots-each one always polished to a gleam by another person’s hands. A submissive’s hands. In this particular case, by her hands.

“It is all the damn humans’ fault anyway. All those stupid stories about how much vampires and werewolves hate each other. It puts ideas into our children’s heads. We’ve lived in peace-each species happily minding its own business for hundreds of generations and now we are brought down to this!”

A new pair of shoes came into her view. Black lace ups. Polished, but not excessively so. Well made, but not by any designer of note. Nondescript, just like the voice she attached to it.

“She is their physical type,” Mr. Washington said. “She’s been well trained and she knows what’s required of her. She’ll follow her orders.”

“She is still only one woman,” that was Mr. Nondescript. Jasmine struggled to attach a species to him. Zombie? Ghoul? Maybe the man was even another human. It was possible a human besides Mr. Washington had made it onto the council of elders-highly unlikely, but possible.

“Do not underestimate women,” the high heeled possible-vampire said from somewhere behind Jasmine. “There are many times when more can be accomplished by a smile from a woman than by the threats of a hundred armed men.”

“I’d prefer to be in the middle of those armed men, if I was going to be the one stuck between those two brats.”

“Threats have had no success with Hayden,” the scuffed loafers said. Jasmine changed his species label from possible-werewolf, to definite-werewolf. An alpha werewolf who didn’t like members of his pack disobeying him one little bit. The growl in his voice came through loud and clear.

“Nor Stafford,” the lady sighed. “Oh well, bring them in. If nothing else, she might keep them out of trouble until tomorrow morning.”

Some signal passed above Jasmine’s head and footsteps hurried from the room. The men and women who made up the council of elders wouldn’t have rushed to follow anyone’s command. A servant must have left the room then-or perhaps another trained submissive like herself.

The position she’d been ordered to assume would have given her a perfect view of anyone entering or leaving the room, if she had been allowed to look up. A few seconds later she heard the door open again and saw two new pairs of shoes stride into her field of vision.

One vampire, one werewolf. She’d been told that when she agreed to take part in the scene and it wasn’t hard to guess which one was which.

The vampire stood on the right-designer shoes and tailored black trousers. On the left stood battered trainers that had obviously been pushed off and on the wearer’s feet without him bothering with the laces, topped by ripped jeans. He wasn’t wearing socks either, she noted.

Jasmine looked for other clues about the men. Long years spent never looking anyone in the eye during a scene had given her a lot of practise at reading people from the knees down. The men were both tall.

Risking glances up as far as the men’s waists, she could see the werewolf carried more muscle, and that he was also an inch or two taller than the vampire. But, from her place on the floor, Jasmine would bet her life that neither man would have a real advantage over the other if it came down to a fight between tooth and paw. And both of them were ready to brawl right then, each man had already adopted a stance which would allow them to attack at any moment.

Tension poured off each man. They stood just a few feet from each other, facing the council. Technically they faced her too-although they were so caught up in hating each other, she doubted they’d even noticed her small, naked presence in the middle of the room.

“Hayden Griffith, you understand why you have been called before the council?” a voice asked over her head.

“Yes,” a deep voice said, betraying a trace of a Welsh accent. The voice came from above the scuffed trainers-from the werewolf.

The other man tensed, obviously perceiving an insult in being addressed in second place. A moment later the council asked him the same question.

“I understand,” he said coldly. “And is the lady the prize? Rather inappropriate, don’t you think? They might have to live like animals, but perhaps the more advanced species could try to maintain a higher standard?”

The werewolf, Hayden, crouched down. Jasmine caught the movement out of the corner of her field of vision and looked towards it. For the first time in years, she made a novice’s mistake and looked a dominant man straight in the eye during a scene.

Hayden held her gaze. Jasmine caught her breath, unable to look away from the deep blue eyes. He tilted his head to the side, a shaggy blond mop of hair falling across his forehead as he studied her. His chest rose and fell as he inhaled deeply, taking her scent from the air. He smiled at her.

“She is not the prize,” a voice said behind her. Still trapped in Hayden’s gaze, Jasmine couldn’t focus on the words well enough to work out who the speaker was, but whoever it was went on. “She is a participant in the challenge. She has been selected from all the humans to represent the part they have played in this mess.”

Hayden frowned and looked away, gazing over her head to meet the eyes of those who he might consider his equals. “I’m not fighting her,” he said.

“If the pup is scared a woman can call him to heel too easily,” Stafford said. “Then he is more than welcome to forfeit.”

“A female wolf would not be a problem. Humans are too fragile to fight. They break too easily. I won’t fight her,” Hayden repeated.

“And I do not fight women,” Stafford said. “Of any species.”

Sure no one in the room was paying the least bit of attention to her, Jasmine glanced up and stole a look at Stafford. He was dark, aristocratic and perfectly styled. Like Hayden, he was well over a decade younger than her. He was also looking down his nose at Hayden, as if the werewolf were something he’d scraped off his designer shoes. A glance at Hayden, still crouched down to bring his eyes to a level with hers, showed he was making a great show of ignoring the vampire. He caught her eye and smiled at her again.