Bigfoot’s Mate (Mates for Monsters: Sasquatch #3)

9. Dafydd

CHAPTER 9

DAFYDD

Three days ago…

Deborah's eyes widen as she takes in the wall of monitors. "This is incredible. It's so high-tech, like something out of a spy movie."

I puff out my chest in pride at her impressed reaction. "State of the art surveillance. We can see everything that goes on topside within a twenty-five-mile radius of Grotto."

The past two and a half weeks have been a whirlwind of picnics, midnight boat rides on the underground river, and... Sex. Lots and lots of mind-blowing sex. (Let's just say Deborah and I have been getting to know each other very thoroughly and in every way imaginable.) But this is the first time I’ve given her a tour of the control room where I work.

"What's…” Her eyes narrow and she bends at the waist, bringing her face inches from one of the screens. “What’s he doing out there?"

I lean in close—maybe closer than strictly necessary, but hey, it’s hard to keep a distance from her so I don’t bother trying. My eyes follow her finger to where it’s pointing at Taredd who is traipsing around outside in the woods.

"He’s having fun. Have a seat." I pull up a chair for her. "And watch him."

We watch as Taredd artfully arranges some broken branches.

“That right there,” I narrate, “is a nest. We make them all over the forest. Human researchers think we sleep in them or something,” I try to maintain a straight face, but it’s impossible and a laugh escapes my lips. “They refer to them as Bigfoot nests.”

Taredd then strategically places broken tree branches vertically in the ground followed by large stones placed in seemingly deliberate patterns. As he continues his journey through the woods, the cameras pick up everything. He leaves “bigfoot signs” all over. X-shaped branches, trees bent and twisted in unnatural patterns, broken tree limbs pointing in specific directions.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Deborah appears incredulous, but there’s a hint of a smile curving her lips. “You mean to tell me y’all are fucking with humans by leaving phony Sasquatch markings everywhere?”

“Technically, they’re real Sasquatch markings since a real Sasquatch is making them, but yeah, we’re fucking with the humans.”

Deborah claps a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.

"It's kind of our favorite pastime." I grin, showing fang. “We especially like to mess with a group called BHS—Bigfoot Hunters Society. They take themselves way too seriously. They're convinced they're going to be the ones to finally catch and kill a Squatch."

Her laughter dies. "Kill?"

"Yeah." I squeeze her shoulder gently. "They seek fame and notoriety, but make no mistake, their ultimate dream is having a stuffed Squatch head to mount on the wall."

All traces of humor leave her face. "That's horrible." The tremor in her voice makes my heart clench.

"Hey." I turn her chair to face me. "Don't worry, precious. We've been outsmarting these knuckleheads for centuries. They don't stand a chance. Watch this…" I nod toward a monitor to her left before transmitting a message through Taredd’s earpiece. “Fifty feet south-southwest. Four armed hostiles.”

On the monitor, we can see the three self-proclaimed "researchers" setting up a tripod to film what I presume will be a YouTube video. Their logo with the letters BHS is emblazoned across the back of their windbreakers.

Taredd creeps up silently. When he’s only yards from the small group, he picks up a boulder that’s roughly the size of a small car and hurls it at them. It hits a bullseye, landing on the tripod with the impact of a bomb and smashing the expensive camera equipment to smithereens.

The BHS losers scatter like cockroaches when the lights come on, completely abandoning their “scientific” documentation in favor of high-pitched screaming and running for their lives.

Taredd follows up his antics with a dramatic roar that echoes through the trees before he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his stomach. When he finally catches his breath, wiping tears from his eyes, he says, “I can never get enough of that.”

His laughter is contagious, and neither Deborah nor I can resist joining in, but I suspect she’s still a little shaken by my Squatch-head-mounting comment. I kind of want to kick myself for it now.

She bites her lip. "It must have been a huge leap of faith for you guys, letting human women come to Grotto."

Yeah, she’s still thinking about it.

"Most of us were excited, more than willing to take the risk." I scratch my beard thoughtfully. "There were a few who were opposed."

"I heard from the other women that there were a couple of anti-human protests.” Deborah nods.

"Most did a one-eighty pretty quickly, though." I can't help but grin. "Amazing what a handful of friendly, beautiful women will do. Now they're all hoping we'll bring in more human women."

"All except the white-furred one." She cocks a brow. “He still hates us.”

"Wmffre." I sigh. " He's... got issues."

"Issues?"

I shake my head. "Not my story to tell. None of us blame him, but I doubt he’ll be singing the praises of humans any time soon. Any time ever. You don’t have to worry about him, though. He’d never hurt any of you."

A movement on one of the screens catches my eye. We watch Taredd head back down to Grotto, clearly pleased with his performance. Topside, the BHS members are falling all over themselves, measuring footprints and collecting "hair samples" that are actually bits of carpet we strategically scattered.

Deborah's laugh is musical. "You're all evil geniuses."

"We prefer 'strategically mischievous.'"

She's so close, and when she tilts her face up to mine with that sparkle in her eye, I can't help myself. I lean down and capture her lips with mine. She responds immediately, her fingers tangling in my fur.

Things are just starting to get interesting when she pulls back with a regretful sigh. "I have to go. My shift at the coffee cave starts soon.”

"How you humans drink that bitter swill, I’ll never know.” I try to pull her back. "Skip it. Stay here with me."

She laughs, dodging my grabbing hands. "Can't. The place has become way too popular. Even Squatches hang out there, now that we added pastries and a smoothie bar to our lineup."

I walk her to the door, stealing one more kiss before watching my mate disappear down the corridor.