“How self-sacrificing of him.”
“I also think he’s never come across a female who stirs him. For sex, yes. As a mate, no. But this one…”
“This one he’s not likely to charitably pass down to the next mate-seeking Shifter. She’s human; she needs his protection. And Liam is a protector at heart.” Glory smiled. “Like his dad.”
Dylan finally looked straight at her. He’d been sliding his gaze from hers, trying not to pin her with his angry uncertainty, trying not to demand submission. What a sweetie. He must know that if he wanted Glory to go down on her knees, she’d happily oblige.
“It’s my job,” Dylan answered irritably.
“No, it’s you. You’re one big protecting hunk of male. The only reason Fergus leads your clan and not you is because he’s a ruthless bastard. You don’t challenge him, because you fear he’ll retaliate on the innocent, Connor in particular.”
Dylan’s expression went harder still, and it was all Glory could do to stay upright in her high-heeled shoes. His eyes were tinged with red, a sign that he was ready to lose it.
“You only met Fergus the once,” Dylan said, tight-lipped.
“Once was enough. I never want to see him again. People respect you, Dylan. They fear Fergus. There’s a difference.”
She started to turn away, but a steel-strong hand clamped her arm. “What are you trying to do, Glory? Sow insurrection in my clan?”
Glory looked at him in surprise. “Insurrection? Are you kidding? What for?”
Dylan’s grip softened, but Glory saw he had to make himself ease off. “Then why are you so interested in me challenging Fergus?”
“Because you’re a better man than he is. I’ve always thought that, and I’m not the only one.”
Dylan closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw, a muscle twitching. “The clan’s survival is more important than me confronting Fergus.”
“I know.” Glory dared to step closer to him, now that his a wful gaze was shielded. “If we start challenging and fighting one another like we did before the Collar, we’ll be dead within a few short years.”
“I’m glad you understand.”
“See, sometimes I listen when you talk.”
Dylan opened his eyes then, the red gone, the beautiful blue so deep it made her heart ache.
“Glory,” he said softly.
“Yes?”
“Shut it.”
Dylan wove his fingers through her hair, loosening it until it spilled over his hands, and he covered her mouth with his.
Glory rose into the kiss, excitement pumping through her. No one could screw like Dylan could. And Dylan surpassed even himself when he was pissed off and warring with his dominant instincts.
She decided not to fight too hard when Dylan lifted her and deposited her on the counter. She wrapped her legs around his hips, unbuttoned his pants, and leaned back to enjoy herself.
Chapter Nine
Liam was wrenched out of sleep the next morning by Kim banging on the attic door and shouting his name. His instincts had him on his feet and wrenching open the door before his brain even knew he was awake.
He found Kim in the hall, her eyes blazing, in a big black T-shirt with a Guinness logo on it. Kim had obviously slept in the rumpled T-shirt, which she must have found in Liam’s dresser drawer. Liam knew she’d be warm and very naked beneath it, and then he realized he was naked himself, prepared to shift.
One part of him was shifting already. “Gods, Kim, why are you out here yelling like a banshee?”
Kim held up a small bit of satin fabric, her eyes wide with fury. “Who packed this? It was a man, wasn’t it?”
“Probably. Why?”
She shook the red satin patch. “This is a thong. Have you ever worn a thong? Do you know how it feels to have a string up your ass all day?”
Liam sensed the rest of his family listening: Connor sitting up in bed behind him, Sean in the hall below, Dylan behind him in the same clothes he’d worn last night, which meant he’d slept next door.
“What’s wrong with a thong?” Liam asked her. “I bet it’s sexy on you.” He pictured it, and immediately clamped down on his imagination. Gods.
“Oh, right,” Kim said. “I’m standing in a courtroom, trying to think on my feet while the prosecution is laughing its butt off at me, but that’s all right—at least my underwear is sexy.”
Liam leaned on his arm, trying hard not to laugh. He heard Dylan retreat, quietly, into his bedroom. Sean, too, departed, chuckling. Connor folded his arms around his knees, watching this female display in puzzlement.
“Why do you have them, then?” Liam asked.
“Friends buy them for me, all right?” Kim snapped.
“And you hang on to them?”
“I don’t want to hurt their feelings. They think they’re doing me a favor.”
Liam let his grin break through. “They think it’s a favor to let you…how did you put it…wear a string up your ass all day?”
Kim rolled her eyes. “Never mind. I’m taking a shower and going home. You got rid of the feral Shifter, so it’s not like he’s coming back. I’ll be perfectly safe.”
Liam felt Connor’s tension behind him, his troubled worry. Liam relaxed his stance to try to convey to Connor that everything was under control. Right. “Kim, love, I’ll make you breakfast, and you write out a list of what you need. I’ll send someone ’round to retrieve it all for you. Someone female this time. How will that be with you?”
Kim planted her fists on her hips. She shouldn’t have done that; the movement thrust out her breasts and let the T-shirt outline her nipples. “Are you still insisting that you won’t let me leave?”
“Not yet. It’s not safe.”
“It’s perfectly safe. The feral Shifter is dead, and you had the lock on my door fixed. Make your damn pancakes if you want to, and then I’m leaving. I won’t tell anyone what happened last night or repeat what you told me about the Collars. I know how to keep a secret, all right? And you can just get over it.”
She stomped back down the stairs and slammed her own door so hard the sturdy walls rattled. Liam sensed her beneath the boards at his feet—her rage; her frustration; her warm, pliant body filling out his shirt. Her closed door would be no barrier to him if he chose to charge in and confront her.
Connor was watching Liam with concern. “What are you going to do?”
He meant, was Liam going to subdue her, and would he hurt Kim doing it? Connor was young, still uncomfortable with his own instincts, not yet certain where he fit in the clan and pride hierarchies. Things were more difficult for him than they had been for Liam or Sean, because Connor had grown up a captive Shifter, and boundaries were fuzzier now than they’d been in the wild. Connor didn’t yet understand when you showed dominance and when you tolerated, and what you tolerated. Plus, he’d been raised by mateless males and had never seen an example of an intimate relationship.
Not that anything Liam had with Kim was going to be straightforward. Educational, maybe. Straightforward, no.
Liam tamped down his own instincts, dousing the pheromones that were putting Connor on edge. “What am I going to do?” He shrugged and headed for the attic bathroom. “What she asked me to. I’m going to make her pancakes.”
Kim descended to the kitchen, showered but still irritated. Liam’s friends had packed not only the underwear she never wore, but also her shortest skirts and lowest-cut tops, a garter belt, and a bunch of stockings. Nothing remotely comfortable, not even shorts and sandals for surviving Austin in the summer.
She paused at the kitchen doorway, surprise cutting through her annoyance. Liam in a tight T-shirt and jeans, spatula in hand, glared at a griddle full of pancakes. Behind him in the narrow kitchen, Sean scrubbed dishes in the sink.
Every woman’s dream—two gorgeous men in the kitchen, cooking and cleaning.
Dylan sat at the table, tipping his chair back on two legs while he watched a sports report on a television that
had to be twenty years old. Connor sat next to him, flipping through a car magazine. The air was somewhat tense, as though words had been cut off when they’d heard her coming.
Something else wasn’t right about this domestic picture, apart from tall, muscular men working in the kitchen to fix her breakfast. Kim realized that Connor didn’t have his nose in the Internet or a video game or a cell phone. Nor did he have an iPod glued to his ears.
Were those more technologies forbidden to Shifters? Or could the Morrisseys simply not afford them? She knew that Liam had a job, which he seemed to take casually. What about Sean and Dylan? Did they work? They seemed in no hurry to rush to an office. Abel was always out of bed as soon as the alarm went off, through the shower and into his suit and tie in fifteen minutes. “Come on, honey, we’re going to be late.” No time for pancakes, coffee, or a chat, never mind a morning cuddle.
Liam took a plate from the stack next to him and flipped pancakes onto it. “These are done. You’re supposed to have the table ready, Connor.” Liam smiled at Kim, but something in him seemed subdued, the sparkle that had been in his eyes earlier that morning gone. What was going on?
Connor hauled his tall form out of the chair and shuffled to the kitchen. When his body filled out, he’d be as muscular as his two uncles and Dylan. He looked unfinished right now, like a young horse, all arms and legs. But he was handsome enough, probably already drove girls crazy.
“I’ll help,” Kim offered. She took the bottles of syrup Connor had snatched out of the cupboard and carried them to the table.
Dylan rose. “Sit down, Kim. You’re a guest.”
Kim opened her mouth to say, No, guests are allowed to leave, but she shut it again. There was plenty of time to argue, and besides, the pancakes smelled terrific.
In any case, she had no intention of arguing with them. She’d simply get into her car and leave.
The pancakes tasted as good as they smelled, tangy, sweet, and laced with cinnamon. Damn Liam for being so gorgeous and skilled at cooking too.
“Did you sleep well, Kim?” Connor asked her around a mouthful.
Kim had fallen into a heavy sleep and dreamed about two things—being attacked by feral Shifters and kissing Liam. Both experiences had been intense.
“Sort of.”
“Liam didn’t,” Connor said. “He thrashed all night. The springs on my extra bed squeak something awful. Drove me mad.”
“I wasn’t used to the bed,” Liam said, sitting down next to Kim with his pancakes.
For a man who’d slept restlessly, especially after claiming to be in excruciating pain, Liam looked damn good. His face was freshly shaved, his hair still damp from his shower. She smelled soap and shaving cream on him, which sent her imagination into the shower with him, his body dripping wet and soapy.
Dylan, on the other hand, looked extremely pissed about something. He glowered as he ate, hunkering over his plate. Sean went through his pancakes quickly, without speaking, and returned to the kitchen for more dish scrubbing.
“Do you always make Sean do the dishes?” Kim asked. “Seems unfair.”
“We take it in turns,” Liam answered. “It’s Sean’s day to do the washing up.”
“Mine tomorrow,” Connor said glumly. “I swear I’m taking a mate as soon as I’m of age, so I don’t have to do it anymore.”
Kim ate her last mouthful of pancakes and wished for more. Screw eating light; these were good. “That’s going to be your offer, Connor? ‘Marry me so you can clean up after me, my two uncles, and my grandfather’? I’m sure every woman would jump at that.”
At the sink, Sean laughed. Liam smiled, but distractedly. Connor frowned as if she’d given him something new to think about, but even his enthusiasm was dampened.
The four Morrisseys were certainly wound up this morning. The worst tension was between Liam and Dylan—and Kim gave herself three guesses what they’d been fighting about.
Kim set down her fork. “Let’s keep this simple. I’m going to go upstairs, get my stuff, and leave. I’ll call you and let you know what’s going on with Brian’s case—keep you in the loop. I promise. And I won’t reveal anything I learned about feral Shifters, Collars, or your werewolf neighbor in glittery shoes.”
Dylan looked up from his meal, his eyes dark but tinged with red. Despite his handsomeness, he was damn scary, and Kim again realized why humans sought out Liam instead of his father.
Liam shot Dylan an angry glance, but when Liam spoke to Kim his voice was gentle. “You need to stay a little longer, love. A few more days at least.”
“No.” Kim wiped her mouth and put down her napkin. “I have a job and a life. Tomorrow is Monday and I have to be at my office, where I work to earn my living. Remember Brian and his case? You do want me to get him free, right?”
“You’ll go to your office,” Liam said. “I’ll go with you.”
“Oh, right. A Shifter walking the halls at Lowell, Grant, and Steinhurst. I don’t think so.”
“It’s that or you don’t go at all.”
Kim shoved back her chair and stood up. “Listen, Liam, I didn’t ask to be dragged into your problems. I didn’t ask for that—thing—to attack me. I’m real sorry I found out about the Collars, but all I want to do is get Brian released and back home to his mother. You don’t seem to remember that I’m on your side.”
Liam had gotten to his feet with her. Connor watched, worried, and Sean turned from the sink, scrub brush dripping.
“It’s not up to me, Kim,” Liam said.
“You’re damn right it’s not up to you. It’s up to me.” What was the matter with them? “Y’all are Shifters. You could be arrested for kidnapping me or holding me hos-tage—hell, for even talking to me sharply. They’ll do to you what they’re doing to Brian. A sham of a trial and an execution.”
Dylan finally spoke. “We weren’t planning on telling anyone. Or letting you tell anyone.”
Kim’s heart beat faster. Yep, Dylan was the scariest one in this room, all right. Her powers of argument died under his red-tinged stare. The feral Shifter who’d attacked her now seemed like a puppy dog compared to Dylan.
Liam’s voice went hard. “Dad, you promised this was mine to handle.”
“Aye, but you’re not handling it,” Dylan answered. “You know what you have to do.”
“Let me do it then. In my own time.”
“No, you need to do it now. It’s the only way.”
Kim backed up a step. “Do what now?”
Liam wouldn’t look at her, while Dylan glared and Sean turned away. Connor had his mouth open, clearly not knowing what they were talking about, either.
“Do what now?” Kim repeated.
If she ran for the door, would she make it? How fast could Dylan, Liam, and Sean move? Liam didn’t look ready to spring, and neither did Dylan, who sat loosely, but these men weren’t human.
What was the matter with her? Yesterday, she’d been nervous about coming to Shiftertown and talking to a Shifter who wasn’t behind bars. Then Liam had looked at her with those Irish blue eyes, and she’d melted. She’d even slept in their house without putting up much fuss. She’d done everything on their terms, and Kim never did anything on anyone’s terms but her own.
Now she was reminded of how dangerous Shifters were. She’d blithely walked into their lives, and she knew they wouldn’t let her blithely walk out again.
Kim balled her fists. “Liam, please reverse the scent-marking. I don’t do the dominant-submissive thing.”
“Kim.”
Oh, damn, even him saying her name made her want to flow to his lap and put her arms around him.
“What?” she growled.
“The scent-marking is for protection, not subjugation. Besides, you’re less submissive than the highest alpha female I’ve ever met.”
“Oh, sure. You’re telling me that Glory is submissive?”
Dylan rumbled, “She’s not an alpha. She’s fairly far down in her pack.”
The surprise of that stopped Kim’s speech for a moment. But only a moment. “That explains why she puts up with you. But not me. I’m out of here. I’m sorry, Liam, but you’re going to have to trust me.”
Liam stepped around her to cut off her retreat. No, she wouldn’t have made it to the door. His hands went to her shoulders, and she found herself pinned against the nearest wall.
“And you’re going to have to trust me,” he said.
This wasn’t fair. He smelled too good. His blue eyes held the hint of red that Dylan’s did, but she sensed that Liam was holding himself way, way back.
For one giddy moment she wondered what it would be like if he let loose. Would he press her to the wall, cover her with the weight of his body? Watching him lean around the bedroom door frame this morning, stark naked, had made her breasts ache and her thighs grow damp.
I have lost my mind.
The moment hovered, Liam towering over her, Kim’s knees wanting to bend. She could slide down Liam’s body and press her face to the front of his jeans. Wouldn’t that be nice?
“Ow!” Connor shouted. He folded over, arms around his stomach.
“You all right, Connor?” Kim asked worriedly.
“No. Crap.” He moaned in sudden pain.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Geez, Liam, what did you put in the pancakes?”
A plate shattered on the kitchen floor. “Shite,” Sean whispered, and at the same time his eyes flooded with pain.
Liam shoved Kim from him. “Kim, get away from us. Now.”
All four Morrisseys started growling, eyes changing. Connor moaned pathetically.
Kim didn’t know enough about Shifters to know what the hell was the matter with them. Were they shifting? Or sick? Sean slid to the kitchen floor at the same time Liam fell to his knees. Dylan got out of his chair and tried to go to Connor, but he collapsed before he made it to his grandson.
Liam raised his head, lips peeling back from fangs. “Go!” he shouted at her. “Run!”
Kim didn’t waste time arguing. She fled through the kitchen, wrenched open the back door, and ran outside into hot, humid Austin air.
She could leap into her car, roar the hell out of Shiftertown, go home, and change all the locks. Move. Quit her job, never see Shifters again. They could keep her clothes; she didn’t like most of what they’d packed anyway.
Pride Mates Page 9