“What'da think, mate? Looks like a good place to crash.”

The bar was dark, and not a window in the whole place. I think there was more light from the neon advertisement behind the bar than anything else.

“Uh, sure,” I replied. This wasn't really my kind of place. I'd been bounty hunting with English the lion for a while but I still wasn't up to speed.

“We gotta get you liquored up, Tommy,” he said, marching over to an empty booth like he owned the place. “You're far too up tight for a wolf.”

I grinned and rolled by eyes.

“You know I don't drink,” I said. “My regeneration does weird things to the alcohol. Gives me a hangover with none of the upside.”

He laughed and waved for the waitress.

“Such is the pity, all the more for me then.”

A moment later she was at our table. A white rabbit of some sort. She leaned forward to put her... uh, assets on display.

“What can I get for you boys?” she asked. She was a real professional. Voice soft and sweet, she was working for that tip.

English grinned and raised an eyebrow.

“How about we start with some drinks and see how it goes from there, darling? I'll take a beer, lukewarm, and my friend will have a Shirley Temple if you got them.”

She gave me an odd look but didn't say a word.

I had to hold back a laugh.

We sat in silence until she'd gone. It was then the lion reached into his belt to pull out a wad of bills.

“And here we are, mate. An honest day's pay for an honest day's work.”

I'll be blunt, that was a lot of cash. We'd had a busy day.

You wouldn't think bounty hunting was such a well paying job, but I suppose any job can pay well when you're partnered with someone as good as English.

He began counting out the bills, whispering softly as he split them into two piles.

An easy grin came to his lips, but I could see a hunger in his eyes.

“You better be glad I was in a generous mood when I made you the fifty-fifty offer, mate. There hasn't been anyone I've done a split like this with since the old dog.”

Sighing, he pushed the second of the two even piles towards me.

“And that, mate, is your share.” He grin grew warmer. “Don't spend it all in one place, eh?”

Reaching out, I took the bills. My hand was shaking.

In record time I'd gone from practically starving to rolling in cash. I didn't know what to say.

“Uh, thanks.”

He was about to reply when the rabbit returned. This time she leaned way over the table to set our cups down.

Okay, there's working for your tip, then there's something called trying too hard.

Not that English seemed to care, there was a grin on his face as he took in an eyeful.

“That'll do, little miss,” he purred.

A moment later she was gone with a swish of her short tail, leaving behind our drinks and a bowl of salted jerky.

English took a swig of his beer. The white suds clung to his face, making his mane look even bigger.

“So, mate,” he asked, “have you made the move yet?”

I blinked. “What?”

He chuckled and reached across the table to set a massive hand on my shoulder.

“The lass. Have you made your move yet? She's all alone in the apartment across yours. You can't tell me you haven’t given her a go.”

I tried to pull back, feeling self-conscious, but his casual grip held me fast.

“You've got to be kidding me.” I tried to look away but English's golden eyes held me as sure as his hand. “I hardly know her.”

He cocked his head slightly.

“So? She's a nice enough piece of work. A wolf and a cat aren’t a bad combination. The only reason I haven’t given her a go is because you seem to have her tied up.”

I had to fight back the instinct to growl.

“You wouldn't...”

The words died on my lips. I'd hardly even talked to Rebecca a dozen times but I was already becoming protective of her.

I shook my head, trying to clear it.

The lion's smile grew.

He gave me a pat on the shoulder before letting go and taking another swig of beer.

“Don't you worry, mate. I don't go after other people's targets. And she's been on your list since day one.”

I rolled my eyes and sipped my drink. It took everything I had not to spit it out again.

I'm a chocolate hound, I love sweet, but it tasted like someone had dumped a pound of sugar in this half pound cup.

English laughed. “What, a little girl's drink is too much for you?”

Is it wrong that I had to fight the urge to throw the rest of it in his face?

We didn't stay long, only just enough for English to finish his beer. He took one last gulp and showed his appreciation with a belch that shook dust from the rafters.

Despite by best efforts he wouldn't let me pay.

“Leave it to an old hand, mate. You've still got some saving to do.”

The bill he left behind on the table was enough to cover our drinks five times over and then some.

And I wasn't quite sure where it came from, but he lifted a small scrap of paper that had been sitting under his coaster. It had a name and address.

I had a feeling it was for a particular rabbit.



Author’s Note:

Just a quick bit of filler as I wait for the last bits of Police Dog to fall into place (any day now, really!)

Think of this as a lost scene, taking place right at the beginning of chapter 11 from The Hunters. It doesn't impact much of anything, but does help flesh English out a touch.


Thanks to everyone who replied to my journal asking how best to post long form fiction.

By the sounds of it I'll likely stick to what I'm doing now with twenty-some page chapters wrapped up in PDFs. The only exception will be short stories like this where I'll paste them into FA's body as well so people have their choice of ways to read.


And with the start of Police Dog I'm going to switch to posting Monday and Thursday as hitting the Wednesday deadline was getting to be a bit of a challenge!


Don't know what The Hunters is? Click here.