by Bianca D'Arc
Irish myth abounded with tales of selkies caught on shore when a cunning human found the hiding places of their seal skins and stole them. The idea was simple: steal the seal’s skin, force the selkie to stay human…and with you…until you let down your guard and he or she found the hiding place of their skin, stole it back and took off into the waves, never to be seen again.
Reality was a bit different from those old legends. For one thing, selkies didn’t take off their skins like fur coats and leave them lying around. No, selkies were shifters, just like any other shifter, except they had a lot more magic and were reputed to be very rare.
The boy had told Seamus, when they’d escaped together, that his name was Eamon. A good Irish name for a thoroughly American lad. Seamus had no doubt young Eamon could trace his lineage back to Ireland. Just like Seamus could.
Of course, Seamus’s Irish ancestors hadn’t been immigrants exactly. No, they’d been forced to sail to Botany Bay, as it was called back then. Shipped off to Australia with the other convicts. Only Seamus’s family had fallen in with the Australian natives and mated with shifters. Generation after generation had inherited the native animal spirits, the indigenous heritage and the gift for blarney. And, in Seamus’s case at least, a liking for Scotch whiskey.
Rather than say anything, Seamus decided to shelve the talk and eat up. His stomach was as empty as his head, and the sandwiches were calling his name.
They ate in silence for a while. Moira was easy to be around, he was discovering, and she was definitely easy on the eyes. With pretty dark hair and pale skin, she had the deep ocean blue eyes and complexion of what was known as the dark Irish.
At length, she finished with her sandwich and started cleaning up the wrappings that might otherwise blow away in the breeze. She sipped her coffee and dug into the bag, coming up with a smaller bag—this one filled with pastries.
“Tina sent these along for you, but I suppose you can spare one for a stranger in town, right?” She sent him a comical look, blinking her big eyes at him.
“You’re more than welcome,” he told her. If she looked at him like that, she could have pretty much anything she wanted, just for making him feel like smiling.
Lord knew, there’d been precious little to smile about lately.
“So…” She gestured with the pastry in her hand after taking a bite. “With a name like Seamus, your last name probably begins with a Mc, am I right?”
Her impertinent question startled a laugh out of him. “Almost. It’s O’Leary,” he said, holding his hand out across the picnic table, as was only polite when introducing yourself to your rescuer. “Seamus O’Leary from Sydney, Australia.”
“Moira Kinkaid, from Houston, Texas. Well, I live there now, but I was born in New York,” she replied as they shook hands.
When his skin touched hers, there was a little spark that he could have sworn arced between them. A small zap of magic that wasn’t the normal thing at all. He wanted to keep holding her hand and explore the feeling more, but politeness dictated he had to let go after a reasonable period. He’d held her a shade too long already. She tugged slightly, and he let her loose, remembering his manners.
The animal inside him that had been abused didn’t want to have manners. It wanted to sniff the female. It wanted to touch her and mount her and make her theirs.
Whoa. Where had that come from? Seamus shook his head. He really had been in his animal form a bit too long. It wasn’t good to let either side have that much control for that lengthy a period, but he hadn’t had any other options, stuck in the menagerie.
Scratch that. He’d had options, but all of them had been bad. He’d decided early on it was better to lose his humanity and stay furry for the rest of his miserable life than give his captors the satisfaction of having broken him. He might have been imprisoned, but his spirit had remained strong. The beast side of him had seen to that.
“Pleased to meet you officially, Moira Kinkaid,” Seamus said, testing her name out on his tongue. It felt good there. Tasted right. But there was something… “Wait a minute. Kinkaid? Are you the representative from Clan Kinkaid everybody’s been expecting?”
“That I am,” she agreed with a friendly smile.
“And here I am making a grand impression on you. What must you think of the town, with me passed out on the beach?” He shook his head with a rueful expression. “My apologies, Moira. Please don’t judge this place by my actions. They let me stay, but I’m not really one of them. I’m sort of a charity case around here.”
CHAPTER THREE
“That’s no way to talk, O’Leary. We all have down times, and this just happens to be one of yours. Or maybe… You were down, but you’re on your way back up again with the indulgence of the folks here. Given time to heal from your experience, I don’t doubt you’ll straighten out your path in no time. You’ve already made friends here, whether you realize it or not.” She nodded toward the bakery across the street.
“Moira, with all due respect, you don’t really know what you’re talking about. I’m not even a real bear in their eyes. Hell, technically I’m a marsupial. I’m the only shifter in this town that actually gets smaller when I change.”
“Wait… What are you?” Moira regretted the question the moment it left her lips. It was the height of rudeness to ask a shifter that question. It just wasn’t done in polite circles. “I’m sorry—” she began, but he waved her off.
“I’m a koala. Didn’t the gals in the bakery tell you? The grizzlies have been having a good laugh at my expense ever since I got here.” He looked like he wanted to bolt. He seemed angry and frustrated and unsure what to do with those volatile emotions.
“I hope not.” She decided to be straight with him. “If you know about my Clan, you know it’s one of the richest in the world. Our Alpha likes to spread the wealth sometimes, but if these grizzlies are uncivilized enough to make you—a fellow shifter—unwelcome here, then they won’t be seeing a penny of Kinkaid support. I can assure you of that.” She felt righteous indignation rise to cover the fact that she’d just blown her own cover.
She never did that! At least, she’d never done that before while on a mission for the Alpha. What had come over her?
“No.” He seemed to calm a bit. “No. I don’t want to hurt the people of this town. There are good folks here. It’s me who’s the problem.”
“Seamus…” Her heart went out to the mixed-up man.
It was clear to her that Seamus was dealing with some pretty heavy stuff. Insecurities and events that had scarred him badly.
But Moira knew something about being vulnerable because you were smaller than everybody else. She got up and moved around to his side of the picnic table, taking a seat right beside him.
“Seamus…” Her voice softened. “I’ve never said this aloud before, but everyone thinks I’m the runt of the Kinkaid Clan.”
That admission cost her in pride, but he needed to hear it. His gaze rose to meet hers, and she saw the turmoil deep in his eyes. She took a deep breath and forged on.
“Look at me.” She held her arms out to her sides, inviting him to take a good look. “As a human, I’m small. As a seal, well, I’m not even close to the size of most of my fellow selkies. And half my Clan is populated by giant scary-assed lions. The big joke when I was growing up was that one of the lion cubs was going to try to eat me, but I wasn’t even big enough to make a good snack.”
She laughed ruefully. The others hadn’t realized how much their teasing had hurt her. For all that she was a shifter, she still had a sensitive soul. Words could hurt, and she’d learned the hard way, they often did.
“But my Alpha trusts me. Most of the Clan has no idea that I’m one of his most highly-placed business operatives. I earned my place with brains and determination, but for a long time, I just wallowed in self-pity. I had to realize I wasn’t going to be like the others. I had to be better than them. Different. I had to forge my own path, and at long last, I have. You can do
the same thing here, if you give it a shot. I bet, among your people, you’re used to being one of the strongest and most dominant, right? But here in Grizzly Cove, you can’t make the same comparisons because you’re not comparing apples to apples. You’re an orange, my friend. Just like I was in my Clan. Just like I am here, in fact.”
“I’m an orange?” His lips turned up at the corners, and his eyes twinkled at her.
She bumped into his shoulder with hers. “You know what I mean.” She chuckled with him, feeling a companionable mood settle over them. It was easy to talk to him. Like they’d been friends forever, and not just for an hour.
“Yeah, I do, and it’s kind of you to attempt to give me a pep talk.” They sat side by side, their shoulders touching, almost leaning on each other.
“Is it working?” She peered up at him, giving him the side-eye.
Seamus straightened up a bit. “You know? I think maybe it is. A bit.” He tilted his head to meet her gaze. “You’re right. Among my kind, I’m an Alpha. I was the Alpha before I went walkabout.”
“Walkabout?” She squinted at him. “Isn’t that some Australian Aboriginal thing?”
“Yup. My name might be Irish, but my ancestry features more than a few Aborigines. The story goes that when the first O’Leary was sent to Botany Bay, he must’ve had a bit of magic about him from old Ireland because he mated with a local shapeshifter named Alinta. There’ve been more than a few Alinta O’Learys over the years. The name means flame in my tribe’s language, and it certainly fits my old auntie. She’s still a pip, even at her age.” He smiled, no doubt remembering his family.
“She sounds great,” Moira said quietly. “So you went traveling, and somehow, that’s how you ended up here?”
“I was captured in the bush, in my furry form, stuck on a boat, and eventually, I ended up in Oregon in a private animal collection up in the mountains. Those bastards knew some of us might be shifters. I think they were hoping we all were, but they were clearly misled on a few of the animals in there with us. Near as I can figure, the rich folks in charge were paying through the nose for each new addition to their menagerie.”
“How long were you held prisoner?” she dared to ask. She felt sympathy for the awful experience he’d been through.
Seamus rubbed one hand over his beard-stubbled chin. “Months? I’m not really sure. It all blurred together there for a bit. It was a long time. Longer than I’ve ever stayed furry in my entire life. But I couldn’t change and give them the satisfaction. They wanted proof that shifters existed, and I wasn’t going to be the one to spill the beans for the rest of the shifting world.”
Moira put her arm around his broad shoulders, squeezing gently. “That’s a brave thing you did.”
“It wasn’t just me,” he mumbled, looking away. He gazed out over the cove, the sun kissing his skin.
Moved by the moment, Moira rested her head on his shoulder. She felt a kinship with this strange shifter unlike anything she’d ever felt before. She was drawn to him, almost against her better judgment. But there was something about him…
“You’re a beautiful woman, Moira Kinkaid, with a beautiful soul,” he said unexpectedly, turning his head as she looked up from her position on his shoulder. The moment stretched as their eyes met…and then…
Seamus O’Leary kissed her. Right there, sitting at the picnic table in full view of anyone who happened to glance their way, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was this moment. This kiss. This man.
Something inside her snapped into place, as if it had been waiting for him—just for him—all her life. Something that she hadn’t even known was wrong suddenly became right.
Seamus.
Sweet Mother of All. Seamus O’Leary was something special. In fact, he might just be…
No. It couldn’t be. Not that easily. No way.
She couldn’t have just found her mate. Not today. Not this way.
Not with a guy who smelled faintly of eucalyptus. A koala shifter, for heaven’s sake! As if she wasn’t enough of a misfit in her Clan already.
But as the kiss deepened, her mind whirled. Why not Seamus? He was a perfectly scrumptious man, and he made her toes curl with his tempting kisses. He was just as good as—no, better than—any selkie or lion shifter. Just let those assholes in her Clan say anything about him! She’d teach them a thing or two about respect. Just see if she didn’t.
Moira threw her arms around Seamus’s shoulders when he turned to take her into his arms. They were doing this. Right here on the beach. Necking like teenagers. The thought made her want to giggle, as did the effervescence that seemed to well up in her body. A tingle of awareness and excitement. Seamus did that to her. He made her come alive as never before.
Damn. He was a great kisser.
Seamus nearly lost his head. Kissing Moira was like holding starlight…riding a sunbeam…finding perfection. She was magic itself to his starved senses, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss her for the rest of his life.
But he couldn’t. Guilt ate at him and wouldn’t let him rest. And when he thought about her other half, the guilt turned into something darker. Something filled with grief and remorse.
Much as he wanted to, he couldn’t keep kissing her like this. Not under false pretenses.
He broke away, finding it near impossible to let her go. But he had to. She had to know the truth before this went any further. Even if he lost her forever because of what had happened, it was only right that she know the truth about him. About what had happened.
Her expression was dazed at first, then went to confusion. He liked that she’d been so involved in the kiss that he’d managed to put that dreamy look on her face.
“Moira, you need to know something.”
Confusion turned to concern on her expressive face.
“When I escaped the menagerie, I wasn’t alone,” he went on, needing to say this to her before he got in any deeper. “There was a lioness and a selkie boy. The three of us got out the same way, during a power outage when we knew the cameras were down. It must have been an arranged thing, though we had nothing to do with it. Someone hit the compound and gave us time to get out. The others went with whoever set up the raid, but the three of us went on our own, out a different exit. I’m not sure why the lioness and seal boy went their own way, but for my part, I didn’t know anyone in this country. I had no idea if the people who were running the raid were the good guys or just another load of bad guys. I wanted out, and I wanted to make my way home on my own. Safer that way, I thought. I guess the lioness and the boy did too. They seemed to know each other.”
“They might’ve been from my Clan,” Moira offered, frowning now. “If they were, then they probably did know each other. They might’ve even been family to each other. Lions and seals sprout up in the same families from time to time. They could’ve been siblings or maybe even mother and son, but I don’t recall hearing of anyone going missing. And you say they were held for months?”
“I was held for months. I’m not sure about them. I only started seeing them the last month or so of my imprisonment, so maybe they were relative newcomers. Or maybe they’d been housed elsewhere before that. I’m just not sure.” He understood why she was questioning him, but he was still surprised by her response. He had expected anger…though he might still get that when he told her all of it.
“I wish I knew who they were,” she said in a calm voice. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll call my cousin, the lion Alpha, and ask if he’s heard anything. If some of our people are out there and need help, he’ll find them.” Seamus was impressed with Moira’s confidence in her cousin’s abilities. “Did they stick together after you got out?”
“That’s just the thing…” He really wasn’t looking forward to telling her this next part. He sucked it up and got to it. No sense stalling any longer. She had to know. “The lioness was hurt. She didn’t shift to human form while we were escaping, but the boy had to change. His seal form couldn’t go ver
y fast on land. For my part, I’d shifted the moment I knew the cameras were dead. I was sick of being furry and eating leaves. The boy and I let the lioness out of her cage, and he ran to her. On the way out, I snagged some coveralls the workers had left hanging on pegs. The three of us went out a side door and headed for the fence.” He took a deep breath, lost in the memory. “It was an easy climb for me, but the boy had difficulty. I helped him while the lioness leapt. That’s when I saw the marks of some pretty serious injuries on her fur. She’d been cut for some reason. I don’t know. Maybe our keepers were experimenting on her. I have no idea. She never shifted so we could talk. Maybe she couldn’t at that point. All I know is, we hightailed it, the three of us, into the hills.”
He paused for a moment. The next part was the hardest to tell, but he had to get it off his chest. Not even Big John knew this part.
“We ran through the night, but the lioness was in bad shape. I think they’d cut her recently, and she was still healing. She found a place in the undergrowth where she could hide, and the boy—he told me his name was Eamon—said she wanted to rest and for us to go on. He was able to understand her gestures, I guess, but I don’t speak lion. Never seen one that close before in my life, in fact. They said goodbye to each other, and I could see tears in the boy’s eyes. He didn’t want to leave her any more than I did, but we really had no choice. She’d be able to hide in the hills in her animal form. I might’ve been able to hide and evade recapture too, but the boy had no chance as a seal. He had to get out of there as soon as possible.” He scrubbed one hand over his face, dreading the next part of his story. “So Eamon and I left her and took off again. I had no real idea where we were. I figured out later that we weren’t far from the town of Gresham, Oregon, but at that point, all I knew was that we were in a pine forest the likes of which I have never seen.”