Chapter Three

If someone had told Brandon that he'd spend a Friday evening searching the bushes for a litter of kittens, he'd have asked what they were smoking. Yet here he was, flashlight in hand, poking through the undergrowth between NE 39th Streetand Bridle Trails State Park.

Even wilder, the incredibly handsome Dr. Stefanos Barros was with him.

Every so often a car drove past, and one actually stopped, pulling over onto the shoulder of the road. Brandon flicked his flashlight over the car door, trying hard not to hyperventilatewhile inspecting the logo. Redmond's finest. Of course.

The guy lowered his passenger window and hollered, "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, officer, we're just looking—"

"Just looking for a litter of kittens, officer. I'm Dr. Stefanos Barros and my friend here brought in an injured feral cat this afternoon. It was pretty clear on exam that she'd been nursing at the time of her injury, so we're looking around a bit to see if we can find them."

"Cold tonight," the cop said. "If she left them alone for any length of time, they're probably dead."

Well, maybe I can revive them. Brandon stifled a slightly hysterical giggle. Last Year, Mack and his friends had smoothed things over so he hadn't faced any kind of legal fallout from their wraith experiment run amuck, but at the same time, he did not want this cop to plug his name into any computer database.

"You may be right. We won't be out here too long."

Stef's calm reply helped Brandon relax. A little. "Yeah." His voice still sounded breathy. "Hopefully, the kittens were old enough to take care of themselves."

"Well, good luck," the cop said. "Wouldn't be the worst thing if they didn't survive. Got too many feral cats around here anyway." He raised his window and rolled off down the road.

"G'night, officer," Stef said, "and fuck you, too."

"Damn." Brandon took another deep breath. "I do not like police."

Stef flashed his light in Brandon's direction. "Are you ready to quit? You look kinda freaked out."

"I'm fine." Brandon was always fine, even when he wasn't. A blast of stomach acid hit his esophagus and he swallowed against the burn. "Let's go deeper into the trees, and if we haven't found them in twenty minutes or so, we'll go back to the house. I mean, assuming you want to." Did he really just invite a man over? Brandon started hyperventilating for an entirely different reason.

"I am curious to see the other creatures you've raised."

"Oh, yeah, the critters. Definitely." Because yeah, Brandon's momentary panic had nothing to do with the pleasant image he'd created of the two of them hanging out while waiting for a pizza to be delivered.

The line of trees that marked the border to the state park was probably ten or fifteen feet wide, and dense enough that Brandon could no longer see Stef's flashlight. The snap, crackle, pop of the man's footsteps through the underbrush reassured him, though. He wasn't alone.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"

Stef's yelp made Brandon jump, and he swept the area with his flashlight. "Are you okay? Did you find them?"

Stef laughed. "No. Well… no. Come here for a minute. I want to try something."

Using Stef's voice as a locator, Brandon headed for him. When he got there, he found Stef pointing his flashlight at the ground.

"See it?" Stef asked.

"What?"

"It's a rat, I think."

There was a new level of excitement in Stef's voice, something more than a dead rat should have prompted.

Brandon crouched down, and sure enough, the carcass of a generously proportioned rat lay stretched out on its side. He reached out to poke at it but caught himself. Gross.

"Can you…? Maybe if you…?"

"If I what?" Brandon glanced at Stef, who smiled with way too much anticipation.

Something in Brandon's tone turned Stef's smile sheepish. "I just wanted to see if your trick would work."

Brandon rose to his feet, more than a little annoyed. "I don't have a trick, and I can't do it on command." He shook his head, willing himself to calm down. "And even if I could, I wouldn't. The dead need to stay dead."

"Of course," Stef said. "I apologize for getting carried away."

He sounded so sincere that Brandon couldn't help but believe him. "Nah, it's no big deal. Let's go back to the house so you can see the others."

"Sure."

Neither had much to say after that. Stef followed Brandon's lead out of the patch of trees and along the road. His Prius was parked next to Brandon's SUV in the driveway and for a moment, it seemed like he meant to get in and drive away.

"Come on."

Brandon hadn't meant to give an order, but the way Stef nearly fluttered an "Oh, yes. Of course," made it seem like he had.

This day had definitely not gone the way Brandon intended.

When they reached the front door, Stef put a hand on Brandon's arm. "I am sorry," he said. "I was out of line."

Brandon exhaled something close to a sigh. "You're fine. It's just all so disturbing, to be honest. I mean, who brings random dead animals back to life?"

"A necromancer."

Stef's simple reply made Brandon's blood run cold. "That's not me, man."

"Maybe, but it could be. SPAM—"

"SPAM doesn't want me." Mack and his partner Hal had been happy enough to see the back of him anyway, and they were the only representatives of SPAM Brandon knew. Nope. No SPAM in his future. "The critters are in the spare bedroom."

Still leading the way, Brandon brought Stef to his menagerie. Instead of quiet, though, they were greeted by a muffled yowl. Brandon popped the door open, only to find Sparky crouched on the floor beneath the windowsill, her tail switching back and forth. The robin hopped along the ledge, as if it could somehow escape Sparky's glare, and the two squirrels were nowhere to be seen.

"What the hell? Sparky, back off." Brandon strode through the door and scooped up the cat. The brace that allowed her to move without flopping over had obviously revived more than her posture.

Sparky growled and smacked at his arm with her claws extended. Stef had taken the time to wash her fur before they'd left the clinic, and he'd also made a little muzzle to hold her jaw closed. She didn't look like a normal cat, but she no longer looked like roadkill, either.

And right now, she was highly annoyed.

"This might freak Layla out, but…" He carried Sparky into the hall. "Don't cause any trouble," he muttered to the cat, then returned to Stef and the other critters.

"You must have strong medicine, doc. Sparky didn't have that much attitude before."

Stef grinned at him, the robin on his finger. "This is really incredible. You know that, right?"

Brandon's cheeks heated. "When Layla realizes Sparky isn't in the room with the others, it's going to be incredible in a whole different way.

Stef's smile dimmed. "Is Layla your wife?"

Brandon cleared his throat. We're going there, are we?Might as well. "Roommate, actually. I'm, uh, more likely to end up with a husband."

Not like that'll ever happen. The last time Brandon had made a promise to someone, it had imploded in the worst way. He wouldn't make that mistake twice.

"Me too." Stef's grin grew bright enough to distract him from Last Year. Thank whichever god was closest.

Stef set the robin gently on the windowsill and, after peering at the squirrels hiding in the box, he came toward Brandon. "I'm so glad, because you're…" His voice trailed away.

Brandon had to clear his throat a second time. "So are you."

Either the temperature rose about fifty degrees or Brandon had come up with some other reason to sweat. Stef moved closer, that cocky grin doing weird things to Brandon's heart rate. Just out of arm's reach, Stef stopped.

"I think," he said, "we should get to know each other better over dinner."

"Dinner… good. I can call for a pizza."

Stef cocked his head, still smiling. "Let's do dinner tomorrow night. We've both had a long day and besides, I want some time to start planning for dessert."

Brandon's arms grew rigid with the need to grab Stefanos Barros. Stef laughed softly and came closer, putting a hand on Brandon's chest. "You'll see I'm right, Brandonakis. Saturday's a better date night. Now get some rest, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Stef sauntered past and for a moment, Brandon didn't move, pinned in place by the warmth where Stef's hand had been.

"Wait," he gasped when Stef reached the front door. "What's your cell phone number?"

"Four two five, seven seven eight, three oh two oh."

Brandon tapped in the number and sent off a text. Can't wait for dessert. Stef was halfway down the front walkway when he started to laugh.

"Me too, Brandonakis. Me too." His reply drifted back to where Brandon stood in the open doorway.

For a long time, Brandon stood there shivering, his desire for Stefanos fizzing like his blood was carbonated. A screech from Layla doused his flame.

"What in the actual fuck?!!"

Sparky sighting. Brandon headed toward the media room in the back of the house. Sure enough, Layla sat in one of the big chairs, knees drawn up, knitting cast aside. She had her back to the door, but she must have heard Brandon come in.

"Why is there a dead cat in our movie room? Better yet, why is the dead cat wearing a tube?"

Brandon kept his voice calm and placating. "Dr. Barros made Sparky a brace so she can walk without flopping over, and I can't put her in with the others because she was stalking the robin."

Layla scooted around and peered at him over the chairback, hair in a sloppy knot on top of her head. "You're lucky I don't make you choose between me and that cat."

She didn't sound serious, so Brandon didn't answer right away. A soft, rumbling sound filled the space between them.

"She's purring," he said. Coming into the room, he made sure to stay out of Layla's reach on his way to Sparky's side. He picked up the cat, and after a brief hiccup, the purring started up again.

Layla followed his progress, giving either him or Sparky — or both —the evil eye. "There's too damned many cats around here. Yesterday the guy next door said he found a couple of kittens wandering down the road, so he brought them home. He asked if we wanted one." Her laugh had notes of exasperation and disbelief. "I said I'd talk to you, but I guess our cat quota is full."

"Kittens? Oh good. I bet they're Sparky's. We looked for them earlier." The feeling in Brandon's belly was bigger than relief. "And I'd always choose you first." He scratched the cat's head and it purred louder.

"Why's it making that noise?"

"What noise? The purring? I think it's because she's happy."

Layla flopped around in the chair to face the big screen. "I don't like cats. I've never liked cats. I hate cats."

She sounded more like a whiny five-year-old than someone who was about to give notice. Brandon tightened his lips so he wouldn't ruin this partial victory with a grin. Mama had raised him to be a gentleman, after all. "Then why didn't you decline neighbor dude's offer?"

Layla snorted. "I thought you might want one."

"Well, now I have one." He lifted Sparky a little higher and her purr got louder.

"In your room, and nowhere else in the house?"

"I'll do my best."

"And the next time you… do whatever it is you do, you won't bring it home?"

She had to know he'd never agree to that. "No, but I do promise to take whatever it is directly to Dr. Barros."

Her silence hinted that she was pondering a counteroffer, so he tried to beat her to it. "He said he'd research ways to deanimate the critters, so it makes sense to take them there first."

"Assuming he figures out how."

Brandon shrugged, holding Sparky closer. "He will." He's got to. For a minute, he thought about offering to drop her rent a little more. Nah. She was already getting a deal.

Leaving Layla to watch her movie alone, he put Sparky in his room, then went back to the menagerie room to retrieve her box. He set her in it so she'd recognize home base, closed his bedroom door, and flopped onto the bed. For once, his work bag had made it into his bedroom, so he dragged out his laptop and opened it up.

Right away, a pop-up filled his screen.

Are you ready to find the man of your dreams? Take this quiz and find out.

Wondering how close Stefanos Barros was to the man of his dreams, Brandon clicked the link.