FOUND by Julia Talbot

FOUND by Julia Talbot

Elemental Ops Three

Elemental Ops has been dealing with good dragons and bad guys for just long enough that they think they might survive. Second-in-command Jack learns to bond with his dragon companion, Serena, just in time for all hell to break loose again in the form of government analyst Lane, who shows up at the dragon stronghold to find out why the team went AWOL. Jack's got his sense of humor, and his lusty appetite, back just in time to handle Lane while the other Ops members are still on the mend.

Lane knows he's only on this assignment because he screwed up his last mission. What's an analyst doing on missions anyway? Sexy agents like One-Eyed Jack are not for him, but he can't deny their instant connection, or his new bond with baby dragon Geri. Can Jack and Lane figure out how to keep his new family safe from the government bureaucrats who want their hands on the dragons, and the Ops team?

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Excerpt:

Found (Elemental Ops 3)
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Julia Talbot

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

A dragon.

Jesu Cristo. What the hell was old Jack gon' do with an orange, highfalutin, female dragon?

Jacques looked at Serena, who had color back in her scales now that she wasn't wasting away thanks to him ignoring her. He smiled a little. He was gonna love her. That was what he'd do. After that, well, he had no idea.

Serena looked at him, rolled her pretty, multi-faceted eyes. Silly man.

"Well, I didn't know dragons existed 'til just these last days," Jack said out loud. Talking inside not out was gonna be odd.

She snorted, but she was pleased, he could tell. Her tail said so, the end flicking his ear. Crazy beast.

He glanced around, realizing the other dragons, and his team, had left them alone. Shit, how much time had passed? Hours? Days? His belly rumbled like Keon's big dragon Damien was in there.

Her head tilted. Hungry?

"I am, cherie. Starving." He could eat an alligator.

Show you. Serena led the way, making oddly musical noises. Dragon humming.

He could hear the echo of it in his head, too, like she was only being polite making noises out loud. In his mind, she was singing operas. Jack grinned. It did scramble his brain a bit.

"You got to be so girly-girl? Can't you be macho?" He poked her haunch.

She fluttered her eyelashes at him, then bared her teeth, showing a line of long, needle-sharp weapons that would rip his arm off.

"Well, now, that kind of fierce I can get behind."

"Hey." Gig, their Elemental Ops tech guy wandered into the hall, his little Asian dragon clinging to his shoulder. "Shannon is cooking."

"Good. God, I'm starving to death."

The little beast named Cor hid from Jack, face in Gig's throat.

"Don't worry, little dude. I won't let him eat you." Gig stroked Cor's tail.

What a weird turn life had taken.

Keon wandered by, caressing Serena along the way, the odd little man Zen as hell. That crazy hair and mostly naked body still made Jack stare. Lord, he must need to get laid bad if he was jealous that Ice was getting some of that. The scent of bacon and onions hit his nose and sex left his mind in a rush.

"Smells good, Shan." Jack walked into the big kitchen and smiled at the big redheaded soldier who'd been his friend for so long. "No dragon for you, huh?"

"Nope. I'm not hook-up-able."

"Shit, don't say that around here." Ice came in, that white-blond crew cut growing out a little, the smile on Ice's face making Jacques blink. Lord, this place was good for the man.

Shan snorted. "True story. You guys are caught through the..."

Ice cleared his throat. "Little ears."

Shannon blinked, then broke into a huge, booming laugh. "Dude, they're not babies, are they? I mean, they're dragons."

Not a baby. Serena sounded so put out.

"No, but I think Cor might be, sweet girl."

He's tiny. Scared. I am not scared. Grown up.

You're my so brave girl. Jack was amazed at how fast he could go from denial to pure love. He'd been a pure-D idiot, trying to push his dragon away, and his Serena, well, shit. She was the finest young lady he'd ever known. Strong. Brave.

She trilled happily and rubbed her head against his arm, and he scratched her eye ridges, pushing gently.

"Look at you two. You're basking, which, okay, she's a lizard."

Serena was going to bite Shannon. Jack saw the image clearly in his head.

"Shut up, Shan. You just wait. Your turn is coming." Gig sounded so sure.

"Nonsense." Shannon reached into the cooler and pulled out a metric fuck ton of bacon. Jack stared, wondering where that had come from.

"Who does logistics for the dragons?" he asked Ice.

"Keon and some guy in town his family has known for years."

"Some guy? They have all these kids up here and it's some guy?"

Ice's blue eyes narrowed at him. "What are you trying to say, Jack?"

"That we need protection. Real protection for these guys who are trying to come up here and mess with our dragons."

Ice nodded slowly, crossing his arms over his chest to lean back against the counter. "Okay. I can buy that. I guess that means you're staying around, Mister I'm Not a Dragon Man?"

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DREAM DICE by Julia Talbot

DREAM DICE by by Julia Talbot


When Thayer buys a new set of gaming dice at Comic-Con, he has no idea they come with magic attached to them, or that they’ll transport him to a land where he’s a healer of the sexual kind.

Barbarian Erlich needs just that kind of magick to pass some important trials, so he turns to Thayer for help. Magick never comes without a price, though.

Can Thayer and Erlich pay what they owe and survive?

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~Excerpt~

“Those are your dream dice, and you know it.” The guy behind the table looked like a pirate: plumed hat, half cape, high boots. Thayer looked from him to the amazing bag of dice he held. They came in a black velvet bag, simple and unadorned, but of good quality. The dice needed no fancy packaging. They glowed under the harsh lights of the convention center, all turquoise and lapis, chrysoprase and malachite. The colors spoke of real semi-precious stones, not acrylic, the numbers etched in gold. There were four D10, or ten-sided dice, two D6, which looked like regular craps dice, and once each of a four-sided die and a twelve-sided one.

“They are lovely.” Thayer needed more dice like he needed a hole in the head. Still, while they might not qualify as dream dice, the set called to him, making him want to touch them where they spread across the felt rolling board. “How much?”

“One-fifty.” When Thayer turned away, the pirate guy caught his arm. “But for a serious collector like you I’ll go eighty.”

“Eighty?” That was a good deal. The last gem set he’d seen with the kind of rocks here had retailed for one thirty five.

“Yes. Just for you. Show special.”

“Do you take cards?” He had enough cash, but he really wanted to have enough for the food vendors.

“I do.” The guy whipped out a phone with a card reader attached.

“I’ll take them.” He pulled out his wallet, not at all sure why he thought this was a good idea. The vendor wasn’t even hard-selling. He didn’t need dice. These tugged at him, though, deep in his gut, making him want them.

He took the bag when the card went through, putting it in his pocket so he could feel the weight of them, the way they warmed from being close to his skin. He waved at the pirate dude and wandered on, but the rest of the booths didn’t interest him. The more costumed and corseted cosplayers he saw, the more he simply wanted to take his new dice home and roll up a character. That was the true test of new dice, what kind of cool cleric they would come up with.

Thayer did stop by the food booths and get a couple of deep-fried goodies: a corn dog, curly fries and a Snickers bar dipped in batter and cooked golden brown. After inhaling those, he headed home, ready to settle in for the night. He could always go back to the con tomorrow. He’d bought a weekend pass.

“Kenji?” His roommate should be out for the evening, but it never hurt to check. Kenji the Horndog had guys over all day and all night sometimes. Too bad Thayer didn’t have that kind of luck with men. Helped that Kenji looked like an anime character, he guessed.

No one answered, but Thayer checked Kenji’s room, anyway. The only thing he saw was an explosive mess of clothes and tangled sheets. No lean, tanned surfer, no big muscled jocks of the type said surfer liked to bring home.

Ace.

He tossed a pizza in the oven because he was still hungry, grabbed his character sheets and his tablet, so he could write up his adventure, and lit some sage and pine candles. He liked candles, but compromised with Kenji on a more manly scent. Shit, why he did, he had no idea. Kenji could identify vanilla room spray from three different retailers, including Pier One and Bed Bath & Beyond. The man was such a queen, deep down. He was a good roommate, though, and had been a great surrogate for Thayer’s folks, lost three years ago to a boating accident.

Settling cross-legged in front of the coffee table, he got his pencils lined up, the regular graphite for fixed attributes, the colored pencils for anything he might experience up in. XP was vital to the kind of cleric he liked to play.

He gave the dice a couple of rolls across his velvet tablecloth. Yes. Those were some good numbers. Okay. A cleric. Not a Paladin this time. Thayer didn’t want to have to do that whole legal and righteous thing. Not a monk, either. That got boring. Ooh, maybe someone who healed with sex magick, since he was just running this one for himself. Dude, maybe he should write this up for the Nifty archive instead of trying to sell it to a gaming publisher.

For some reason, he ended up with physical characteristics very close to his own: black hair, gray eyes, five-nine-ish and not too buff. Okay, skinny. From there he let the dice give him exceptional charisma, dexterity and magical ability. He had good stamina, too, if no strength and not much wisdom. He never allowed himself less than average intelligence, though. Too many characters wound up dead from being beautiful but stupid.

When he had a complete character, one with major traits and minor psychoses, with attributes and skills aplenty, Thayer sat back and smiled, really pleased with how the dice performed. They had warmed to his hands, the numbers seeming to glow brighter every time he touched them. He reached out to stroke them, watching his fingers come in contact with each stone. “You just needed love, didn’t you?”

The gold imprints in the dice flashed bright, almost like lightning, the room starting to spin. Thayer gasped, his body shaking with the impact of the shock wave that seemed to come from the stones, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He got out one sharp cry before he slumped over to one side, the whole room going dark.

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ICE by Julia Talbot

ICE by Julia Talbot

Elemental Ops

Ice won't let his team at Elemental Ops go with him on what's supposed to be a suicide mission to uncover a new biological weapon. Imagine his surprise when the biggest danger he finds himself in is being bonded to a baby dragon, and falling in love with said dragon's Guardian, Keon. Keon isn't worried about things like guns and governments. He has a whole host of problems in all shapes and colors. When Ice accidentally bonds with one of his baby dragons, Keon is more worried about getting the man to come in from the cold and find a place in their bizarre little family. Can these two find common ground, and keep the dragons safe?

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Ice (Elemental Ops)
Julia Talbot
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2014 Julia Talbot

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

Ice stared down the barrel of his rifle, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He had a bad feeling about this mission. Like a really bad one. So bad that he'd left the team behind to a man. Jacques and Gig had protested, but he'd snarled at them just like he'd been snarling since Spider had officially left the group, sniffing after a couple of shifters who seemed to draw him like a moth to the flame.

Although, Spider had been their fire elemental, and it was tough for him to be ice without fire.

The target on this mission was a son of a bitch who was hoarding weaponry of the unusual kind and was classified as Armed and Talented. It had taken Ice a month just to find his hideout. It was a fortress, really, a huge thing built into the side of a mountain. The terrain made recon difficult, all shale and other craggy rock deposits, and the whole place smelled like brimstone, the occasional glow of a fiery light tempting Ice to come in out of the cold. His feet were like blocks of frozen snow, even with toe warmers in his boots.

Ice wasn't sure if the guy had demons in there or maybe just a hole into Hell.

That would be interesting...

Whatever it was, the directive had been serious enough about the danger that he'd gone Oscar Mike in the middle of the night, leaving his team behind while they slept. They could go on without him, but he needed them to be safe.

A truck rumbled up toward the place, shocks rattling and shaking over the rough road. Whoever was driving had to be losing his fucking mind. Ice would have left the damned truck and hoofed it in. Lord.

A guy got out when the truck parked -- someone who looked oddly familiar, although he couldn't place the face -- carrying a... pet crate? What the fuck?

This was so not a dog rescue or anything. This was a weapons stockpile. Right?

He stared, relaxing his eyes so the scope didn't flatten out his vision.

A lean, mostly naked man with the wildest mass of jet-black hair he'd ever seen came out of the building, peered into the crate. The two men began talking -- maybe negotiating? Hell, this was the most action he'd experienced since he'd been on point. He focused on the truck driver for now, trying to place the man.

The truck driver pulled a piece, drew a bead on the guy, who snorted and stared at the man like he was an idiot, not an ounce of fear on the hawk-like face.

Okay, that was interesting. Ice focused on the other guy for a moment. That fearless bastard stirred something like admiration in him. That mostly naked body stirred something a little farther south.

The pistol was grabbed, tossed away, then the pet carrier was snatched up and the man headed inside. The driver took a step forward and stopped suddenly, eyes going wide before he scrambled for the truck. The truck bounced twice as hard going out, the driver damned near wiping out at the turn that took him out of range of the rifle's sight. The niggling idea that he knew who the driver was made him wish he had Gig, his tech guy, to run facial rec.

The huge door began to swing shut, slowly, proving how heavy it was. He couldn't get a look at what lay inside, either, which meant more damned recon. He'd have to get up close and personal, which started with freezing up those cameras he could see.

Something was in there, something big, and he was going to have to figure out how to get in. This was not just a search and destroy, it was information gathering on the weapons that had everyone running so fucking scared, including the guy who had just made a drop of some kind of animal.

Whatever the fuck they were. They were obviously biologicals. That was always a goddamn disaster. Living things were uncontrollable as fuck. Look at dudes who made movies with dogs, and that was no comparison to what biologicals could do in wartime. He'd seen this werewolf once who ripped the throat out of two soldiers before turning on his supposed handler, the guy's silver-tipped Taser doing no damned good in the bloodlust.

Mr. Lean and Hairy appeared again, looking up at the sky, muttering to himself, giving Ice a look at a tiny, fine ass. Sweet. At least the scenery would be good.

Something shot across the sky, something akin to a comet. Weird. He would have to check his comms to see if anything was expected in the way of meteor showers. He hadn't seen anything on the recon reports, but intel wasn't always one hundred percent.

The man waved to the sky, grinning up like an idiot, then turned back and hurried inside.

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SUMMONING SIN by Lilith Duvalier

SUMMONING SIN by Lilith Duvalier

Elderoy Tipple is lonely, horny, and was recently dumped, but he is also in possession of a spell book that will allow him to summon an incubus. Rather than sit around and bemoan the fact that he’s lost his lover, Archie, Elderoy decides to do the spell, have one wild night of demonic sex, and then banish the creature back to Hell.

But when things go wrong, Elderoy finds himself not just in the incubus’s sexual thrall, but losing his life force as the demon draws it out of him orgasm by orgasm.

With the demon keeping him from enacting the counter spell, and no one to save him, how will Elderoy escape the incubus’s clutches?

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Had he truly succeeded in summoning this fantasy creature?

If he had, the demon should be contained within the sigil. According to the book, it should be standing within the lines of the circle. He just had to complete the binding so that he could cross in and out of the sigil without carrying the incubus with him.

So that he could… well to be crass, fornicate with the monster without it getting loose.

He took a step back toward the center of the room, heart pounding. The heat shot through his body again, so sudden it was almost painful. He cautiously made his way back to the sigils and the mirror, every muscle clenched tight.

This had seemed like a much better idea under the light of the coil. In the pitch black dark the potential danger of summoning a sexual Hell-fiend seemed much more real.

Nothing jumped out to attack him, carnally or otherwise, as he tip-toed back to what he was mostly sure was the center of his room. Not until he reached what he approximated as the location of the sigil did he realize there was still some light in the room.

It was coming from the Black Mirror.

The sketchy outline that it had reflected earlier was still there, even with no light to reflect. He stared at it in horrified fascination. He waved his hands in front of him, watching the way the white lines moved as he did. It was almost as though he could see his bones.

Tck,tck. Tck,tck.

A soft noise, like a muffled click, insinuated itself into the room. It was a footfall, much like the sound of the teeny, dulled claws of his mother’s lap dog, Bumper. The hairs on the back of Elderoy’s neck stood up. The heat of the flames rushed through his body again as he whipped around. The click-click of clawed footsteps which definitely did not belong to Bumper continued. Elderoy started to shake as he realized they were circling him. The noise stopped. So did Elderoy’s heart.

He could see it in the mirror.

Unlike the thin glowing outlines of Elderoy and everything else in the room, the creature behind him was fully filled in, glowing like the full moon that Elderoy had wanted.

It was male, or at least male-seeming and shatteringly beautiful. He was bare-chested, and Elderoy suspected that he was naked, but was too terrified to move and reveal enough of the demon’s reflection to determine his level of dress.

His muscles were perfect, round and firm like he had been carved from marble by a master sculptor. His jaw was square, his chin pointed in a way that was slightly feminine. His hair was a little too long, just a touch unruly, like it had been carefully arranged, but come loose due to some…strenuous activity.

Wholly black eyes stared out of his lovely face. They were sparkled with specks of white. Like stars in the night sky. There was something almost kind in the creature’s smile. Elderoy looked up at it, dry mouthed. It raised its eyebrows, as though it had asked him a question. Elderoy, unsure of what else to do, nodded acquiescence. The demon’s hands reached out and as they settled on his shoulders.

And that’s when Elderoy realized that, against every warning in the spell book, he had crossed inside the sigil without completing the spell.

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A CROWN OF STARS by Pelaam

A CROWN OF STARS by Pelaam

As one of the fae, Anil is shocked that he must seek his mate in the human world, and riddles are his only clues to who that might be.

Anil is very attracted to Cefin when they meet, but this human lacks the crown of stars the riddle foretold.

However, when Cefin is kidnapped, there’s nothing Anil won’t do to get him back, even travel to the lair of the creature that took him.

Now Anil has a rescue to undertake as well as solving the mystery of the crown of stars.

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A cascade of water startled Anil from his reverie, and he fluttered his wings with indignation. Droplets of water sprayed around, but none caught the culprit, although Anil heard his friend’s laughter.

“You’ll pay for that later, Fintan. I won’t forget.” Anil shook himself for good measure, and then flew toward the sounds of more laughter.

“It’ll be worth it.” Fintan lay sprawled comfortably across a large flower, and grinned up at Anil. He scooted up, so that both could perch on the large, golden bloom. “I wanted to cheer you up. You don’t seem yourself these last few days.”

Fintan looked as concerned as he sounded, and Anil hugged him tightly. “I can’t explain it,” he said. “I just feel ... unsettled. As though there’s something I should do, or somewhere I should be. Yet there isn’t. But I feel a pull, an urge.” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “It makes no sense to me. I just can’t put it into words.”

“Do you think it’s the mating urge?” Fintan’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“But there is no one,” Anil said, and his voice rose in frustration. “I’m attracted to no one I know among the fae. I’ve looked around. There are no strangers in our glade, and I even spoke to an elf, and he says things are quiet in the woodland realm, and I don’t feel the urge to go there. I just feel ... unsettled. Like I need to be—somewhere else.” He sighed heavily.

Fintan rose into the air and then leaned down to pull Anil up. “Let’s go and see Nuha. She may find something to help you in her seeing bowl.”

Anil hovered with his friend. “You’ll come with me?” he asked.

“Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

Anil grinned. “I’m lucky to have you,” he said as they flew towards Nuha’s tree.

Nuha welcomed them both inside, and took them through to a room at the back of her home. Anil and Fintan sat side by side, and Nuha took her place at a table. In the centre of the table sat a wide, shallow, dark blue bowl. Nuha stirred the water inside her seeing bowl, and gazed at the swirls as Anil and Fintan watched intently.

"He whom you seek has come," she murmured.

Her voice was deeper, more resonant, and almost unrecognisable from her normal light and gay tones.

"Who?" Anil asked eagerly, but Nuha showed no sign of having heard him.

"You will know him from the signs, a crown of stars, blue like the ocean, and golden sun. But there is danger. Danger comes from iron over water. To leave love unfound is to give it to darkness. To find love is to look beyond our realm, and into the realm of mortals, yet as close as a kiss."

The water stilled, and Nuha looked up at them.

"Is that it?" Anil asked. "It's all in riddles. Can't you tell me what any of that meant?"

"Sorry, Anil, but I never remember what was spoken or can decipher the meanings even if you told me word for word. That's the way the waters work." Nuha stretched and rubbed her eyes.

"A crown with stars in it," Fintan said. "Is the crown itself blue, or is that something else? Crowns are usually golden, so that makes no sense."

"None of it makes sense," Anil said and shook his head. "Worse yet, I have to look in the mortal realm. Why there? Surely my soul mate can't be a mortal?"

"Soul mates come in many forms, Anil." Nuha’s voice was soft, but stern.

Anil winced at the chiding tone. "Sorry," he muttered. I'm a fairy, one of the fae. I expected my mate to be a fae, or perhaps elven, but not a mortal. Now what do I do? Do I ignore the call? But that meant danger. I'm so confused.

Fintan seemed to sense his distress, clasped his hand, and pulled him to his feet. "Thank you, Nuha. You see what you see, and it's up to us now."

Once outside Nula's home, Anil turned to his friend. "What do I do?"

"We need to let your family know what Nuha has said. Then we need to go into the mortal realm, and find your soul mate."

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DUSTED by Declan Sands

DUSTED by Declan Sands

Blood-Hound Book One

Bounty hunter Matthew Blood is a Bloodhound shifter, so tracking things comes naturally to him. But when one of his skips gets blasted out of a fourth floor window, Matt goes after the only other person in the vicinity, and gets fairy-smacked himself.

Rum leaves the safety of the mound to bust a fairy dust ring and rescue some captured fairies. In the process, he quickly finds himself the target of the sexy bounty hunter tracking one of the dealers. Trapped and being pursued on multiple fronts, Rum asks Blood for help.

Blood is happy to lend a hand, but he soon discovers fairy dust isn't the only addictive thing about a fairy.

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Blood-Hound 1: Dusted
Declan Sands
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2012 Declan Sands

This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.


Earthbound recruit 56741 daily report. Missing subject not found. Search continues. I'll keep you apprised.

* * *

The dog snuffled him, whining as he flicked a hand to send it away. Bail Enforcement Agent Matthew Blood was on a case, and he didn't have time for the usual displays of canine worship.

The man across the street climbed out of his car and stretched. He'd been on the road pretty much all day. He'd gone north again -- Matt suspected he'd gone to Michigan, though he'd lost him around South Bend.

The little dog licked Matt's arm and he growled, low and deep in his throat. Yelping with alarm, the cute bitch scurried away. But she didn't go far. She dropped to her haunches beneath an abandoned car, her eyes periodically glowing red in the headlights arcing into a turn at the nearby intersection.

Matt returned his attention to the skip and found the street empty. "Fuck!"

Glaring at the little dog, he quickly stripped, dropped to all fours, and shifted. He slid from the shadows and padded across the street.

Scenting the area around the car, Matt took care to keep his long ears out of a shiny puddle of dirty oil as he gathered as much information as he could from the odors surrounding the car and the spot where the skip had been standing.

The car was covered with a variety of aromas, many of them from another place. The salty tang of Great Lakes sand overlaid the smell of asphalt and rich, black earth trapped in the tire tread.

He padded around to the car door and focused on the bail fugitive's scent. The man was tired, nervous -- evidenced by the strong odor of sweat -- and he'd had chili for dinner. The chili wasn't sitting well in his stomach. The bail fugitive also smelled like the product he'd been illegally carrying from Indiana to Michigan for months. The reason he'd been arrested. He'd never stopped his illegal activities, and he'd proven himself to be a runner. He should never have been let out on bail in the first place.

But Matt wouldn't tell the cops that when he brought him in. He'd just take the certified copies of the arrest warrant and the undertaking and get paid for snagging the guy. If the guy ran again he'd get paid again. And there was no danger he'd escape Matt. With his special qualities and off-Earth monitoring technology, Matt could find and bring any skips he wanted back to jail. If his employer wanted to bond them back out again it was no skin off his talented nose.

Said nose led Matt to the front door of a soot-stained brick building, where the skip's scent trail was cut off. He shoved at the door with his nose but it was firmly shut. He'd have to shift back to follow the skip inside.

Matt loped back toward the alley where he'd shed his clothes, thinking that a race of creatures which could trace its roots back millennia, with technology allowing them to travel the universe to distant planets, should have come up with a fix for the opposable thumb issue.

He rounded the corner to the alley and the little bitch lifted her head, wagging her grubby tail happily. She gave him a single bark in greeting. Matt's bark wasn't quite as happy. But it served to get her off his pile of discarded clothes.

There was a soft sound, like a gasp of supercharged air, as he was pulling on his last shoe. Matt's head shot up. Glass shattered out into the night, followed by a dull, meaty thud. Still working his way into his sneaker, Matt hobbled back out to the street and found his skip, lying in a spreading pool of his own blood on the glass-strewn sidewalk.

A sharp intake of breath from above drew Matt's gaze, four stories up, where a pale, handsome face was outlined by the jagged remains of the broken window. A terrified gaze locked onto his.

"Well, shit!" Matt started running even as the face disappeared from view. It looked like he'd be bringing a murderer to the police, rather than a lowly, dead drug smuggler.

* * *

Matt hit the locked exterior door and reared back, kicking it hard. The flimsy door slammed inward and he hit the stairs, moving at superhuman speed toward the floors above.

Footsteps pounded over his head, accompanied by the sound of terrified breathing as, presumably, the man he'd seen in the window above was making a run for it. A slim, dark form flashed by the top of the stairs as Matt hit the fourth floor landing and he leapt, hitting the runner mid-body and sending him sprawling sideways with a yelp of alarm.

They skidded across the thin, dirty carpet and hit the wall opposite the stairs. The man beneath him started swinging, his fists glancing off Matt's face and shoulders as he fought desperately to get free.

Matt struggled to hold him down while trying to still the man's flailing arms and legs. The man's breath wheezed in and out of his chest and beads of sweat flew as his desperation increased. Matt's sensitive nose scented ozone, and he registered a flash of energy just before one of the flailing fists connected to his temple and his head snapped sideways. It was a good shot for such a slender assailant, and it caught Matt off guard.

Blood ran from his nose, and he saw stars. Light flashed, heat flared, and Matt flew backward and hit the wall hard. The edges of his vision folded inward and turned black as he slipped down the wall and passed out.

* * *

Dust clogged Matt's sinuses, feeding the mother of all sneezes in his sensitive nostrils. The sneeze almost ripped his head off, sending shards of pain slicing through his brain from its impact. A moldy, aged scent accompanied the dust. His nose twitched as he fought another sneeze.

A rough tongue bathed his face, the ministrations more painful than they should have been. He struggled to open his eyes and found himself staring into the bright, brown gaze of the little bitch from the street below. When she saw he was awake she barked in greeting and stood, wagging her tail happily.

Matt tried to sit up and pain sluiced through him. He groaned and rolled to his back. He lay there for a moment, gathering his senses and trying to catalogue the pain. He decided he didn't have any specific injuries, just an overall feeling of having been bludgeoned.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Matt grimaced. His skin was hot and sore, like a bad sunburn, and he was gritty. When he looked at his fingers, there was some kind of residue on them.

Sirens sounded in the distance, bringing Matt back to the reason he was in the building. He ground his teeth and rolled, standing. Moving stiffly down the hall, he headed for the front of the building, where his skip had fallen to his death. A door at the end of the hallway was open. Matt pulled his compressed oxygen gun and stuck his head through the door. "Hello? Anybody in here?"

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