As the reinforced door opened, the slender boy slipped through. Before Sasha could ask any questions, the boy swung it shut and flipped the deadbolt. He darted to the window and looked out. Sighing, Sasha followed him. Why did it have to be a weird morning? He wanted to restock his supplies, dammit, not get involved in some teenaged drama.

The boy didn’t appear to need his services as a veterinary surgeon, either; no animal hidden under the baggy hoodie peeked out at him. At this point, Sasha wouldn’t have minded a sick hamster. But anxiety radiated off the adolescent in waves and he needed to address it. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Sorry to barge in, Doctor Soskoff, but I think I was being followed.” Earnest dark eyes now focused on him, pleading. “I won’t get in trouble for bothering you, will I?”

“Of course not.” Of all the times to have a memory lapse. Dammit. Nothing for it. He hoped his question didn’t offend the kid. “Have we met?”

“At the block party two weeks ago. I’m Tony, Craig’s younger brother.”

Craig Moretti worked for Sasha’s lover, Neal, at the club.

As a BDSM Dom, like Neal.

It said a lot for the neighborhood when they invited the employees of the gay BDSM club on the corner to the street barbecue. Sasha liked the people he met and the thought of some pervert stalking this young boy made his stomach turn.

Now he peered through the window to scan the street. “Did you get a good look at him? How long do you think he followed you?”

“I was walking from the bus stop back home from the library and I was okay until right there.” Tony pointed to the end of the alley.

Sasha bit his lip. The last thing he wanted was for the club to get a reputation for having weirdoes hanging out around it. His lovers prided themselves on keeping everyone safe. Tony’s next comment made him frown.

“I don’t think it was a guy. There were odd snuffling sounds, like a big dog.”

“Have you seen any around?”

“No, in fact now you mention it, I never see strays. Cats, yeah, but no dogs.”

Sasha hid his grin. When Siberian tiger shifters peed on the building to mark it, dogs tended to avoid it. The boy’s next words wiped the mirth away.

“A few homeless guys are missing.”

“What?”

“They come around to check the dumpster. The cook tends to leave stuff out for them.” At Sasha’s look the boy hurried on. “They’re nice guys, never cause trouble, just homeless. I knew a few by sight and they’re gone.”

“I’ll ask Mario.” Mario Rosetti, the chef for Factory, came from Neal’s Marine unit, though he remained human and not a shifter. Sasha loved his cooking. The restaurant bankrolled the Basement, the BDSM club located downstairs. “I’ll mention it to TJ and see if he’s seen them.”

Tony seemed distracted from his earlier scare by his worry for the missing street dwellers. Sasha glanced at his watch. “Isn’t it too early for school to be out, even for a Friday?”

Tony shrugged. “Teacher conference day. But my mom still wanted me to work on a report. Said I had to look stuff up at the library rather than Google it.”

Sasha hid his grin. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Tony fidgeted with his backpack. “Do you think the dog is gone? Could you, like, check with your magic?”

Sasha blinked, surprised. He didn’t think many people outside Neal’s tight-knit group knew of his empathy. The boy seemed at ease with the idea, at least.

“Give me a sec.”

He relaxed, centering himself. After a moment the familiar warmth filled him and he let his magic spin out, through the clinic and outside it to the alley and the neighborhood around them. Tigers met his questing empathy, and Sasha knew if he concentrated, he could even distinguish which aura belonged to which of Neal’s guys.

“It’s gone,” he reassured the boy. “Let’s go.”

He ushered Tony outside and locked the clinic’s door behind them. They walked down the narrow street. The apartment building the boy lived in with his mother and older brother backed up to the Factory, separated by a narrow alley. Before they reached it, the small parking lot on the corner came into view.

And what a nice view.

His lover, Neal Harrison, lifted weights on the other side of the wrought iron fence. Sweat gleamed on smooth skin and he made little huffing noises as he lifted. Muscles coiled and bunched, and if Sasha’s underage escort hadn’t accompanied him, he would be tempted to follow the contours with his tongue.

Cinnamon brown eyes looked over as they approached and even in the shadows cast by the buildings, Sasha could see the intense caring in them. It warmed him that this powerful solider showed no embarrassment in expressing his attraction.

Neal’s eyes twinkled. “Hey, Doc, walking out with a new beau?”

The weights dropped with a clink. Neal grabbed a towel to wipe down and Sasha stifled his disappointment. The familiar grey T-shirt with the Factory’s logo appeared and Neal pulled it on while walking over to the gate. Sasha watched as the big man paused by the Charger, running a hand along the car’s hood like a caress. The sunlight gleamed on the midnight blue paint of the 1969 classic.

“I’m the one that should be jealous – of your car.” Sasha smirked.

“Never.” Neal reached out a hand to draw him close.

A quick kiss brushed his lips, causing them to tingle. Sasha glanced over at the boy, but considering Tony’s older brother Sasha didn’t think Tony would be shocked by the PDA.

“I’m walking Tony home, you wanna come?”

Neal offered a huge hand to the young boy to shake. “Sure.”

Sasha nodded at the youth. “Tony thought a stray dog was following him home. Have you seen any around?”

Neal frowned and planted his hands on his slim hips. He tilted his head up sniffed, the deep breaths expanding his muscled chest. “Nothing canine around here right now.”

“Probably long gone,” Sasha assured the teenager.

They chatted about the boy’s school while they cut through the bigger parking lot to his apartment building. Chicagoans called it a “sixteen-flat”, but it looked like a massive, square brick fortress to Sasha.

When they got to the side door, Tony stopped and turned. “Thanks, guys, I’ll be okay from here. Nobody’s gonna mess with me in my mama’s building.”

Tony and Craig’s mother managed the apartment building. Sasha hoped they got a break on their lease; the rents in Chicago shocked him after moving from Madison. A tingle of magic shivered through him and goose bumps raised on his arms.

Frowning at the building, he stretched out a hand. Laying his palm against the warm brick, the unmistakable flavor of magic danced over his skin. Somebody with power and knowledge warded this structure. Between Tony’s Italian features and the feel of the magic, maybe a Strega lived in their neighborhood. Luisa Moretti had offered free palm readings at the street party, though he hadn’t taken her up on her offer. That she possessed the power to fool him didn’t surprise him after touching the building. Any Strega strong enough to ward something this size could circumvent his abilities, appearing like someone with no magic or skill. Like Wiccans, Strega contended with others accusing them of evil but Sasha knew better. The feel of the building confirmed it—the strong, clear energy of life shone at him as though a beacon.

Neal waved good-bye to the boy and Sasha rubbed his palm against his jeans. Long fingers curved around his wrist and Neal lifted his hand. Neal nuzzled his palm and Sasha’s heart sped up.

Neal’s gaze met his. “I should clean up.”

“I could wash your back,” Sasha offered.

“Now that sounds like a plan. I’m all for grabbing a shower together. Saves water.”

“Not the showers we take.”

The bigger man pulled him toward the back door of their building. Halfway there, Sasha’s iPad flashed to mind. Crap. He’d left it back at the clinic.

It figured. He sighed and looked up at Neal. “Why don’t you start and I’ll join you. I need to grab something I forgot on the clinic side.”

Neal shook his head. “Nope, I’ll go with you if something is roaming around.”

They walked further down the building toward the back door of the clinic. The original occupant, a healthcare clinic, had shared the building with the restaurant and club. Empty for years, the local shifters had asked Sasha to reopen the clinic to treat them in their animal form. If they got hurt, a shift usually healed them; but if not successful, they could be trapped as animals with no one trained to aid them. That was the theory, anyway. Hardly anyone had needed his services since they opened it.

Sasha sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I still feel like I’m not pulling my own weight. I don’t get enough patients to support the clinic.”

“Yeah, but when we need you, we really need you. And you’re not paying the overhead; there isn’t any. It sat empty and I had no plans for the space. The jaguars give you the supplies. You need to be on call, even the days you help Doc Salisbury at Northwestern.” Neal paused and grimaced. “Personally, I find having that kind of leash annoying.”

“Well, my sub training helps.”

The top’s eyes darkened. “You know, we could take the freight elevator inside your back door down to the Basement. All the playrooms would be empty right now.”

“Now that sounds like a plan.”

When they reached the back door Neal’s cell phone buzzed. Sasha waited until Neal thumbed the call off, a frown on the bigger man’s face.

“TJ says the cameras show we have company around the corner at the clinic’s front door. Jaguars, and they don’t look happy.”

Great, just great. So much for grousing about nothing to do. Figured, the jaguars would pick the exact wrong time to interrupt. Sasha sighed and sped up.