Part 5 (1/2)

”Evil!” Without actually touching down, he twisted in midair, hit the floor running, and raced back into the hall.

That was enough for Dean. Hands under Claire's armpits, he half carried, half dragged her out of the room. When her legs cleared the threshold, he reached over her and pulled the door closed. The damage he'd done to the lock plate meant it no longer latched, but he managed to jam it shut.

Pressed tight against Dean's chest, her head tucked into the hollow of his throat, Claire shoved on the arm holding her in place. While she appreciated him catching her before her skull smacked into the floor, his interference in something he had no hope of understanding created the distinct desire to drive her elbow in under his ribs as far as it would go. Only the certain knowledge that any blow would bounce harmlessly off the rippled muscle she could feel through the thin barrier of the T-s.h.i.+rt prevented her. That, and the way the position she found herself in radically restricted her movements. Not to mention her ability to breathe. ”Let go of me!” she gasped. ”Now!”

He jerked and looked down at her like he'd forgotten she was there but eased up enough so she could squirm free. Wedging her shoulder under his, she managed to get him out of the doorway.

His back against the wall. Dean slid down to sit on the hall floor, feeling much as he had at ten when the local bully had smacked him around with a dead cod. ”The cat talked.”

Having just reached Austin's side, Claire shook her head. ”No, he didn't.”

”Yes, he did.”

Scooping the cat up into her arms, she said in a tone specifically crafted to make the recipient doubt his own senses, ”No, he didn't.”

”Yes, he did,” Austin corrected, his voice a little m.u.f.fled.

”Excuse me.” Holding him tightly against her chest, she turned so that her body was between Dean and the cat. ”I'll just be a minute.” Tucking her thumb under the furry chin, she lifted his head and whispered, ”Are you all right?”

”I'm fine.” His tail, still twice its normal size, lashed against her leg. ”I was startled. I hit the nasty on the other side of that s.h.i.+eld and I overreacted.”

”And what are you doing now?”

”He's a part of this.”

”Are you out of your walnut-sized mind? He's a bystander!”

”Granted, but you're going to need his help.”

”For what? With what? With her?

”Maybe. I don't know yet.”

”You are out of your mind! Do you know what that is in there?”

”Excuse me?”

”What?” Dean's voice pulled Claire's attention back across the hall.

Caught between a cruel and capricious sea and an unwelcoming hunk of rock, Newfoundlanders had turned adaptation into a genetically encoded survival trait. True to his ancestry. Dean had progressed from stunned disbelief through amazement to amazed acceptance by the time he'd interrupted.

When he saw he had their attention, he said, ”I could still hear you. Sorry.”

”Well, she wasn't exactly keeping her voice down,” Austin pointed out.

Dean met Claire's gaze almost apologetically. ”The cat talks.”

”The cat never shuts up,” Claire replied through gritted teeth.

”He seems to think I can help.”