True Nature

by Neely Powell

  “In addition to what he learned from Shamus and me throughout his life, Evan was with the Rangers in Iraq until a year ago,” Craig added, “Like all of us, he knows how to do this job. Hell, it’s in our blood.”

  “But in the city it’s different,” Hunter said. “It’s more difficult to hide there if you’re part animal and part human.”

  “The chimera go everywhere and anywhere,” Evan’s tone was even, as if he were describing the habits of a housecat. “Your grandfather preferred living here because it reminded him of his home in the Highlands, but we’ve had members of our clan killed in St. Louis, Atlanta, and even Los Angeles.”

  Stirling said, “Michael Killin lives in a penthouse near Central Park. He owns the building. The rest of the residents are on his staff in some capacity.”

  Hunter continued to shake his head. Craig got up and grasped his shoulder. “Patrick’s death means Michael will be hunting in a rage. He’ll want to spill your blood with his own hands. You need Evan. You’ve got to change your life. You’ll have to be vigilant every minute, or you’ll die. It’s that simple.”

  They looked up as one of the guards came through the doorway, his rifle at his side. “The Killins have already taken the body. Maeve and I were doing the late patrol, and discovered it was gone.”

  “Michael Killin knows for sure his brother is gone,” Stirling murmured.

  A look passed from him to Craig and Evan. The somberness in their faces carried an edge of fear. Hunter felt a chill down his spine.

  “And so it begins,” Evan said.

  To Hunter’s ears, Evan’s voice carried a note of bloodthirsty anticipation. He wondered if that was what he wanted in a bodyguard.

  What would Zoe think?

  Chapter 15

  The helicopter was like dozens of others that dotted the sky over Manhattan, but I didn’t take my eyes off the gold and black striped craft while it hovered and then set down. I was waiting atop The Stirling Building on Fifth Avenue just off 51st. Fraser MacRae had built it in 1950 and named it in honor of his son born the same year. Though other buildings towered over it, this one was still impressive with its classic granite exterior.

  The helicopter’s engine roared and wind whipped my hair about my face, but I didn’t even notice. Though I’ve been up here many times with Hunter, I never feel comfortable being so close to helicopter blades. The tightness in my chest eased, however, as the blades slowed and Hunter’s familiar, dark head popped out of a door.

  “Hold on,” said the woman beside me. Stirling’s faithful and efficient administrative assistant, Marie Nelson, held me back when I would have run straight to Hunter.

  He stepped out and I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to be sure he was truly here, safe, and whole. He dropped his duffel bag on the concrete and pulled me close, swinging me around as he hugged me tight enough to cut off my breathing.

  “Oh, my God,” I gasped. “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Hunter set me back on my feet. “I thought you could see me anytime.”

  I stepped back. “Eyes on you, buddy, all the time. You’d better believe it.” I pushed his hair up to look at the neat row of sutures that lined his scalp. I frowned. “You’re almost healed.”

  “The claw just scraped me.” Hunter stooped to pick up his duffel bag. He slung an arm around my shoulders as we walked toward the doorway where the patient Marie hovered.

  The older woman greeted Hunter with a hug. In quiet tones, she told him how sorry she was about his grandfather. I knew Hunter was appreciative.

  Dear Marie. For as long as Hunter and I have been friends, she had been as involved in Hunter’s life as his parents. Maybe even more so. She arranged for permission for school trips and scheduled doctor’s appointments, and made sure he was outfitted with the right sports equipment and clothes. Marie was more like a doting aunt than an employee.

  Long ago, Hunter thought his father and Marie were romantically involved. I wasn’t sure. But I wouldn’t blame anyone who preferred Marie’s warmth and kindness to Margaret MacRae’s brittleness.

  We followed Marie down a short corridor just inside the building. The family firm occupied the top five floors and seemed to grow bigger every year. Marie led us straight to the familiar oak-lined lounge where corporate guests who arrived on the helipad were usually greeted with refreshments and smiling, fresh-faced assistants. Today, the room was empty, although sandwiches, ice, water, and a pitcher of orange juice had been set up on the dark granite bar. Marie never missed a thing.

  Pausing to hold the door after Hunter walked through, Marie gave Stirling a soft smile. “Welcome home, Mr. MacRae.”

  I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t even noticed Stirling getting off the helicopter. As usual, his brow was furrowed and his eyes were glued to his phone. The man was always attending to business. He didn’t even acknowledge Marie’s greeting.

  I was about to say something to him when I noticed another man walking behind him. He was young, with tawny, close-cropped hair. His bearing military-straight. His features were strong rather than handsome, and his shoulders were about as broad as the doorway. He had on worn jeans and a black leather coat, the collar turned up against the cold. He hefted three bags with ease as he followed Stirling into the room.

  Holy crap, he was gorgeous.

  His brown-eyed gaze swept the room and I realized he would know the second anything changed. He was on guard.

  “You must be Zoe,” he said.

  I put out my hand. “And you would be—”

  “My babysitter,” Hunter sneered.

  “Bodyguard.” Evan set the bags down and took my hand in his large, warm one. “I’m Evan Egan.”

  I studied him. So this was the “rube” Hunter had fumed about when we talked this morning. He had been raving about a group of warriors assigned to be his protectors, with one in particular designated as his official guard. The whole situation infuriated Hunter.

  Evan wasn’t what I expected. I’d met Shamus and assumed Hunter’s man would be like him—old and grizzled. The two of us had made plans to ditch the bodyguard as soon as we made our getaway from the Stirling Building to hit New York’s nightlife. After all, we knew our way around this city. Evan didn’t. Marie had a limo downstairs waiting for us.

  I was looking at a man who wouldn’t be easy to evade. No wonder Hunter was pissed. So was I. Fraser told me I was Hunter’s first line of defense. Why did he need this oversized ape man if he was with me? Why did Hunter need Evan?

  As if reading my mind, Evan directed his gaze like a laser at me. “I’ll be with Hunter,” he said. “All the time.”

  “That sounds great, doesn’t it?” Hunter said with false enthusiasm. He turned to Marie. “Is the limo ready? I want to go out for dinner here in the city and not have to worry about how to get back to Jersey later.” His voice dipped into sarcasm as he looked at Evan. “Are dinner and drinks permissible?”

  Not rising to the bait, Evan gave a nod of approval. He turned and politely introduced himself to Marie, who displayed no surprise about Hunter’s new bodyguard. She knew everything about this family. I looked from Marie to Stirling, but there was no indication of them being more than colleagues.

  Stirling finally looked up from his phone, his frown deepening to a glower. “Hunter, please don’t make things difficult. You know Evan will be going wherever you go.”

  Hunter ignored him and said to Marie. “You did order the limo, didn’t you?”

  “The service is bringing a car to the executive entrance right now,” Marie answered. If she had any reaction to the unpleasant undercurrents swirling in this room, she gave no hint of it.

  “I’ll send someone for your bags,” Marie said to her boss. “Is there anything else you need right now?”

  “No, but thank you. I’ll be down in the office directly.” Stirling gave her the kindest look he had spared for anyone since getting off the helicopter. “We’ll go over the final details for the memorial service when I
get there.”

  “Yes, sir.” Marie nodded to Zoe, Evan, and Hunter and left the room.

  “We need to talk,” Stirling said to his son.

  “We’ve talked for days,” Hunter replied, sounding weary. “Can’t it wait?”

  “Why don’t we all go have a drink at the club?”

  I stiffened, anticipating Hunter’s response. The Metropolitan was an exclusive club for affluent men started in 1891 by J.P. Morgan. Stirling met there often with associates and friends as diverse as Donald Trump and Bill Clinton. But I knew Hunter thought that place was pretentious and overbearing.

  “We should present a united front to the public.” Stirling’s turn toward me was unexpected. “I’m sure you know all about the situation that we’re in. Don’t you think we would look stronger if we appeared together in public? Killin has spies everywhere. He’ll know when we go in the club we’re not hiding.”

  “I’m not afraid,” Hunter retorted before I could answer, “and I don’t have to prove that to anyone. I’m just going to live my life my way.”

  His father sighed and shook his head. “Everything has changed. You have a responsibility now.”

  “I know that,” Hunter snapped.

  “You have to take your place with the family,” Stirling continued. “How long do you think it will take you to shut your firm down? You can take your grandfather’s office.”

  I looked at Hunter with wide eyes. Shut down the firm? What the hell was this?

  Hunter’s face was grim. “Why would I want Grandda’s office?”

  “Because you’re needed here.” A muscle twitched below his father’s eye, betraying his emotions. He glanced uncomfortably from me to Evan. As usual, he didn’t want to make a scene when anyone was watching. To Hunter, he said, “I didn’t even think this would be an issue.”

  “We’ve been over this before.” Hunter had no qualms about displaying temper. “I don’t practice corporate law.”

  “Things are different now. Your grandfather is gone, and this is a family law firm. You need to take your rightful place here,” Stirling said as if that settled everything.

  “Meagan is already part of the firm—”

  “Your sister isn’t cut out to lead,” Stirling said dismissively.

  “That isn’t true. Meagan is a born leader. She’s everything you’ve only wished I would be.”

  “But you’re my son,” Stirling replied without the least apology for his misogynist sentiments. “You are the MacRae.”

  I was shocked. The MacRae? Okay, I was cool with the shifting. I understood Hunter was now in the crosshairs of an ancient family enemy. Looking at Evan, I realized I could even accept the warrior-servants who would die themselves to protect Hunter. But the tone in Stirling’s voice sounded like Hunter should be taking a throne, not accepting a position in a multinational law firm.

  Apparently Hunter had some doubts about it, too. “I’m not coming to work with you.”

  I’d never seen Hunter so firm with his father. The new title also brought out his Alpha tendencies.

  Stirling said nothing, but his blue eyes darkened and the tic under his left eye worsened. “Hunter, I thought you understood. It’s time for you to step up and be the man you’re supposed to be.”

  “Maybe that would be easier if someone had explained all this a long time ago,” Hunter said. “You begged me to join the family firm, but never gave me concrete reasons why. If I had understood, maybe I would have…” His voice broke. “Maybe I…”

  The muscles in Hunter’s throat worked, and I realized he thought he could have saved his grandfather if he’d had this knowledge sooner.

  That was it. I wasn’t going to stand here while his father exploited Hunter’s guilt. I slipped my arm through Hunter’s and gave Stirling a challenging glare. “I think Hunter’s had a lot to absorb this week. Do you really need to discuss his future right now?”

  Stirling’s gaze was calculating, as if he wanted to dismiss me like an underling. I lifted my chin and was surprised when a small smile crossed his lips and he nodded.

  Hunter wasn’t ready to let it go. “I would never have wanted to be part of this firm. I understand my place in the family. But it’s not here. Be smart and give Meagan a chance to step up,” Hunter continued. “She’s got a great head for business, much better than mine. You paid for her MBA from Harvard. Marie says she’s well-respected here. There’s one other thing that will make her more successful than I could ever be—she adores you and would do anything for your love and approval. Give her a chance.”

  “You’ve made yourself clear,” Stirling was angry and wasn’t going to say anything more in front of Evan and me. “We’ll talk about the firm at another time.”

  “Let’s go,” I said before Hunter could protest again. “You need to clear your head.”

  “An excellent idea,” Stirling agreed.

  Knowing Stirling agreed with me made me want to argue, but I knew that wouldn’t help Hunter.

  With a nod of goodbye, I picked up Hunter’s duffel bag and led him and Evan out of the room. Evan took the bag from me, and the three of us were silent in the whisper-quiet elevator that whisked us to the executive garage level where the limo was waiting.

  Once inside, Hunter told the driver to head to Times Square. He made a quick call for reservations for dinner at Marea and then popped the cork on the champagne sitting on ice in front of him.

  “Sweet, wonderful Marie,” he said as he handed me a flute. “Count on her to know what I needed.”

  I chuckled, then said primly, “She won’t approve if you overindulge.”

  “Then we’ll keep that between you and me,” Hunter handed a drink to Evan and poured his own. “God, it’s good to be here. Ever been to New York City, Evan?”

  “A few times,” Evan said. “I’m not really a city person.”

  “I’m going to show you another side of it.” Hunter raised his glass for a toast. “Here’s to the night life!”

  Evan only sipped his drink while Hunter had two glasses of champagne and I finished one.

  We began with some of the places Hunter liked to party: China Club, Sound Factory, and the infamous Studio 54. The women hung off him, many of them calling him by name, acting like I wasn’t even there.

  Evan didn’t escape their notice, however. With his looks he could have had any woman he wanted. He turned down overt invitations from several.

  It was just the three of us as we sat down to dinner at Marea.

  “Enjoying yourself?” Hunter asked Evan.

  “I have to admit, the nightlife is much better here than in Glasgow, which is where I go when I’m in Scotland,” Evan said with a laugh. “The women were certainly forward.”

  “Most men find aggressive women a turn on.” I sipped a club soda and lime.

  “I’m not most men.” His unwavering gaze made me want to fidget in my seat.

  “I’m not most men, either,” Hunter said with a slight slur. “I’m a deadly cat.”

  “Shut up, Hunter.” I peered around to see if anyone was paying attention.

  Evan put a hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Calm down. We’re going to have a nice, quiet dinner, and then we’ll go home.”

  Hunter nodded. “We’re going to have a nice, quiet dinner, and then we’ll go home.”

  Hunter surprised me by remaining subdued during our meal. He fell asleep in the limo before we were out of Manhattan.

  “What did you do back there?” I asked Evan.

  “I enjoyed a great meal.”

  “You know what I mean. Hunter can get mouthy when he’s drunk. That’s why he doesn’t let it happen often. But something you did stopped him cold.”

  “I just told him to calm down.”

  “It was more than that. I know it was more than that.” I lifted one of Hunter’s eyelids.

  “What are you doing?” Evan asked.

  “I’m trying to see if he’s been drugged.”

  “You know what to
look for in the pupils?”

  “No, it just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  Evan laughed. “Don’t worry. Hunter’s fine. He just had too much to drink.”

  I smoothed Hunter’s hair and took his hand, watching him sleep. His breathing was steady and looked comfortable.

  “So Hunter is ‘The MacRae.’ The Killins want to kill him first, right? To make a statement?”

  I took a deep breath, digesting that simple, bald truth. The limo slowed in the traffic inside the Lincoln Tunnel, and Evan was quiet. My anxiety about Hunter’s situation increased as the tiled walls seemed to go on forever.

  When the limo reached my house, Evan stepped out to help me. I looked back at Hunter again, still concerned about his odd behavior.

  “Why don’t you guys stay here tonight? I have a guest room. He stays here a lot.”

  Evan scanned my house and made a quick decision. “All right.”

  Evan and the driver walked Hunter inside and up to my guest bedroom. Evan let the driver out and brought the duffel bags upstairs. I eased off Hunter’s shoes, but left him dressed and pulled covers up around him. He’d come around soon and make himself comfortable.

  “Would you like some tea?” I asked Evan. “Or you can go to bed. The sofa in the living room pulls out. There are sheets, blankets, and a pillow in the hall closet.”

  “Tea sounds good,” he replied, and we went downstairs.

  I left him in the living room with Craig Ferguson on TV while I fixed tea.

  “It’s been a long day.” I handed him a steaming mug. I hadn’t relaxed since I’d had the vision about the attack on Hunter last night. I thought of Mike. Would he ever forgive me? Should I approach him or just leave it alone?

  Evan looked as fresh as he had at the beginning of the evening. The military could have injected him with something to give him super powers? Or maybe he wasn’t real. Like a cyborg. If there were shifters in the world and if I could be connected psychically to Hunter, couldn’t there also be other half humans out there?