Guarding His Heart

by Serena Pettus

  Liam whistled low. “Damn, that must have been hard.”

  Jag shrugged. He’d loved it, really, because he hadn’t been held back by the limitations of his classmates. “It wasn’t that bad. Plus, I managed to graduate at fifteen.”

  The truck swerved a bit when Liam’s head jerked in Jag’s direction. “Fifteen? Damn, man, you must be a whiz.”

  “Obviously not with women,” Jag grumbled.

  “Well then, you’re lucky to have the Maestro of the Mademoiselles right here.”

  Jag’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. Seriously? Did Liam have no shame?

  “I’ll give you a quick run-down of the basics. First, if faced with a holiday or birthday, and she keeps saying you don’t need to get her anything, do it anyway. It’ll make her happy and protect you from dealing with hurt feelings. Second, if a woman ever answers with the word ‘fine’, tread carefully.”

  Jag stared at him. “Maybe she really doesn’t want anything, and what’s wrong with the word ‘fine’?”

  “When you ask a girl, who’s clearly either upset, sick or whatever, if she’s all right, and she replies with ‘I’m fine’ you can’t simply drop it. Trust me, to her you’ll look like an uncaring prick.”

  “Seems kind of harsh.”

  “I know, right? Believe me, though, I’ve learned these lessons the hard way.”

  Jag was certain he had. Dylan was right to describe his brother as a Tom Cat, but perhaps, Jag could benefit from Liam’s misfortune.

  “Oh, and if they ever ask about an outfit—whether they look fat, flat or if their ass looks huge—never fall for it. If you say no, but one of her friends tells her it does, you’re screwed. Instead, go for something benign and safe, like color.”

  “What the hell does color have to do with anything?”

  “It’s much easier to tell her something like, ‘you look fine, but I love the color blue on you. It really brings out your eyes.’ If you follow it up with a compliment, it makes it even better.”

  “Uh-huh.” As Jag wondered just how difficult relationships really were, they turned off the road and into the parking lot of Mason’s Jar Bar.

  It wasn’t much of an establishment, but he could see how the rustic charm would bring in the southern cowboys and bikers.

  Liam’s gasp, followed by, “Son of a bitch,” alerted Jag to the mangled heap in the corner of the lot. “Um, I think that may be her SUV. Or what’s left of it anyway.”

  Sure enough, Lynn’s car had been reduced to nothing but a pile of scrap metal. All the glass had been shattered, the shards twinkling on the pavement. The driver’s side door was lying off to the side, having been completely torn off.

  “Who in the hell did this?” Jag snarled. His claws grew and his canines extended. “I’ll kill them.”

  “Calm down. We need to approach this with our minds focused. If your emotions override your good judgment, you may overlook a critical clue,” Liam advised. “We’ll find whoever did this. Don’t worry.”

  Liam gripped the steering wheel, revealing just how much this situation bothered him, too. He and Lynn had an odd friendship, but a strong one, and Jag was learning to accept their weird interactions.

  After several slow, deep breaths, Jag replied, “Okay, let’s see what we can find. Already, I can spot claw marks, and given the damage, it had to be done by shifters.”

  Exiting the truck, they approached and were nearly to the wreckage when a deep voice bellowed, “Liam! Where the hell have you been?”

  Jag spotted a man—or perhaps a giant—coming around the corner of the building. He had to be over seven-feet tall and was built as if he could bench-press a tank. His features were hard, his scowl making his black eyes look downright evil. Actually he kind of resembled a serial killer.

  Liam, however, didn’t seem to get the same impression. “Mason! How are you?”

  “I’ve been better,” Mason replied. “Just finished patching up Kitty and giving her enough pain meds to kill an elephant. That crazy girl tried to take on the assholes who were vandalizing this car.”

  Jag couldn’t believe his ears. “That female went after the shifters who did this,” he exclaimed, pointing to the pile of metal. “Alone?”

  “Didn’t say it was smart, just that she did it.” Mason shrugged. “The three bears didn’t take to kindly to little Kitty trying to stop their fun.”

  “I thought she couldn’t shift? How did she defend herself against them?” Jag inquired, concerned for Lynn’s friend.

  “A shifter who can’t shift? Is something wrong?”

  Mason frowned at Liam’s question. “Not a thing. No one said she can’t shift,” Mason replied, directing that towards Jag. “Just that she won’t. Don’t know why, and it’s none of my business. She’ll do it when she’d ready.”

  “And she wasn’t ready when three bear shifters were beating on her?” Liam’s outburst gained little reaction from Mason, who only shrugged.

  “She held her own until one of them ripped the door off the car and smacked her over the head with it. That was about the time I pulled into the lot. Once I stepped out of the car, they scattered like cockroaches. Damn cowards,” he snarled.

  “Wait. Kitty, the same female who brought Lynn home last night, fought all of them in her human form? Is she insane? Does she still have all of her limbs?” Jag had known she was ballsy when she’d prepared to take him on the previous night, but three bear shifters? “At least, tell me they weren’t in their bear forms.”

  “Can’t do that.” Was all Mason said, those black eyes still creeping out Jag a bit. “So what took you two so long getting here? Dylan said you were already in the city and would be here soon.”

  “My brother never called to let us know there was a problem,” Liam muttered then winced when he glanced at his phone. “Okay, maybe, he did. I forgot to turn on my ringer this morning. We had to take Lynn to work because her car was left here last night. Do you have security cameras?” he asked, looking around.

  “Never needed any. Guess it’s one of the perks of being a hybrid. If I’d been here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Jag couldn’t tell if the man was just being blunt or if he was really that arrogant. “Well, now, we need to figure out why they targeted this particular vehicle. Plus, I have to decide how best to explain this to Lynn.”

  “Good luck with that,” Liam chuckled.

  “What? No pearls of wisdom from the Maestro?”

  “Listen,” Mason cut in. “I could give two shits what you guys are gabbing about, but if you want a reason, just walk around the thing.”

  After exchanging glances, Liam and Jag moved slowly, orbiting the carnage. The entire frame had been crumpled like a soda can, the bumpers torn completely off, but it was the words scratched into the paint that were chilling.

  You’re dead, bitch, had been clawed into the bent hood. We’ll find you was carved into the back tailgate.

  Mason gestured to the second message. “This lady has someone looking out for her, correct?”

  Jag, still stunned by the viciousness of the attack, could only shake his head. They’d had no idea what awaited them here and had left Lynn at work. The fact she was in a busy hospital was little comfort, since everyone around her was human.

  “We need to head back, Jag,” Liam cut in. “One of us can stay for a while then we’ll switch until it’s time to go home. Whoever’s not with Lynn can work on sniffing out these bastards, since they’re not Pride.”

  It sounded like a solid plan for the moment, so Jag nodded before turning to go back to the car.

  Behind him, Mason said, “You better watch that boy. He’s her mate?”

  “Yeah, but he hasn’t claimed her yet.”

  Booming laughter sounded. “By my guess, that little lady will be before the day’s out. That’s one determined feline.”

  “Either that or he’s ready to detonate. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so cold.”

  “You’d bette
r go, but keep an eye on him.”

  “I will, Mason. See ya later.”

  A moment passed before Liam darted past Jag, heading to the truck and calling, “Get a move on!”

  Snarling, Jag jogged to the door and jumped in. As far as he was concerned, they couldn’t get back to the hospital fast enough. Every red light and stop sign had him growling. His jaguar literally clawing to get out, to protect his mate and eliminate the threat to her, but Jag kept a tight rein on the beast.

  “Dude, would you say something?” Liam exclaimed. “I know you’re worried, but right now, you look ready to commit murder.”

  Perhaps, that was because he was ready to kill. Jag wanted to hunt down these bears and put them down permanently.

  “You’re going to scare Lynn with that expression on your face. She’ll be freaked out enough once she hears about her car. Let’s not add to that if we can avoid it, okay?”

  Jag sighed. Liam was right. He had to put Lynn’s feelings and protection before his need to punish those males. “I’m okay. I’ve just reached a totally new level of pissed off.”

  “Well, all right then.”

  Leave it to Liam to flip the switch to all calm and collected as soon as he thought the danger had passed. Too bad, Jag only had a loose lid on the rage bubbling inside him, but it was the best he could do for now. It just made him want to take a swipe at the back of Liam’s head.

  “Do you want to stay with her first, or go run off some of this tension?” Liam asked. “I’m telling you, you’re putting off some major aggression right now. Lynn’s human, but not blind. She’ll know something is wrong, and you promised not to keep anything from her again, so maybe, you should calm down a bit first.”

  “That sounds like a good idea. There’s plenty of land past the bar where those bears probably went, so I’ll check it out. My cat needs to be let out before he forces a shift in a very public place.”

  “Yeah, let’s keep the public shifting to a minimum and only during life-and-death emergencies. I’d hate for Dylan to kill us both.”

  And Dylan would, too. The secret of shifters had to be guarded closely, and those foolish enough to draw the attention of humans were dealt with in a swift and severe manner.

  When they reached the hospital, Liam parked, and they hurried inside only to stop dead in their tracks. They smelled shifters somewhere inside. They were Pride and the scent led straight to Lynn’s office. That threw them off.

  “What the hell?” Liam muttered, opening the door.

  “I have no idea, but this day has been weird enough without adding any more to it.”

  “Agreed.”

  Sure enough, there were three Pride females sitting quietly in the lobby when Jag and Liam entered. Their mates leaned against the wall, eyeing everyone else in the room as if they expected an attack.

  Idiots, Jag thought. The only thing they’d accomplish was freaking out all the other gestating females.

  “How are you doing?” Liam asked as they moved closer. Once they stood directly in front of the group, Liam spoke again, low and for their ears only. “You’d better have a good reason for being here.”

  He was right. Lynn was under the protection of the Prime, so seeking her out without permission could get all of them punished.

  One of the females, a lioness with a slightly rounded belly, spoke up first. “We’re here to see, Lynn—sorry, Dr. Edwards—to see if she’ll take us as her patients.”

  Liam pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “But you ladies already see a physician.”

  “Dr. Lewis is creepy, and his bedside manner sucks,” another female put in.

  Her mate announced, “If he made one more comment about her weight, I was ready to gouge out his eyes.”

  Ready to move things along, Jag interrupted. “So you just decided to make appointments?”

  A look of confusion clouded their eyes. “We made no appointments. Why would we?” the male asked.

  “Because that’s how things work here. Each of these other women has a scheduled time to be here and see Lynn,” Liam replied.

  “So that’s why they keep getting called back, even though we’ve been here longer.”

  Liam tugged Jag’s sleeve and nodded towards the door leading back to the hall. “Excuse us a moment.” When they were outside the lobby, Liam smiled.

  “What’s with the grin?”

  “Don’t you see? This is the perfect thing to keep her around a little longer. If we can get her to squeeze these three in, she won’t want to leave right at five and you can have some extra time.”

  “It’s almost two o’clock now, and she didn’t come in until after lunch, so maybe she will. She’ll have to create a chart for each of them, and their information would be on record, including the progression of the pregnancies. Maybe, it would be better for her to see them at the Pride Clinic.”

  “Shit, you’re right. I’ll ask her if she can fit them in tomorrow after her shift here.” Liam’s expression turned sympathetic. “Do you think we should tell Lynn what’s going on now or wait until we get her home?”

  “I don’t see any reason to upset her in the middle of her work day, especially when there’s nothing we can do about what’s happened. I’ll scout the property, and you can approach her about following those females’ pregnancies.”

  “At least, it gives me a good reason to be here. I’ll go charm the pretty little receptionist into letting me see Lynn for a minute.”

  Shaking his head at Liam’s bobbing eyebrows, Jag turned to go. “Tell Lynn I’ll be back soon to pick you two up. Hopefully, I’ll have more information to share then. too.”

  Chapter Six

  It took Jag about ten minutes to find where the bears had taken off into the woods. Hell, a human could have found it, since it looked as if a stampede had come through.

  Broken branches, flattened plants and turned up dirt led him through the trees until he eventually came to a set of tire tracks. Evidently, this had been planned, because he knew none of them had called for a ride in their bear form, and he didn’t pick up the scent of their human forms before reaching this spot. No, this attack had clearly been premeditated and the getaway car had been ready and waiting for them to make their escape.

  Heading back toward the bar, Jag decided to ask Mason if he’d found anything useful before he and Liam had arrived earlier. He was about to knock on the bar’s back door when he heard shouting from inside.

  “Of course, I jumped in! I wasn’t in the mood to see you torn to pieces or gutted in my parking lot,” Mason shouted, his deep voice carrying almost as if he were using a bullhorn.

  “So if I’d been off in the dirt or grass you would have been fine with it?” Kitty yelled back.

  “Don’t twist things, Kitty. You know damn well that’s not what I meant. I understand you don’t want to shift, but the next time you engage in a fight of this magnitude and don’t change, I’ll wring your fool neck. Do you understand me?”

  “I’ve told you before, it’s not safe for me to change. I can’t risk it.”

  Listening to their private conversation was wrong, and Jag knew this, but his curious cat had him rooted to the spot, eagerly soaking up any information on the mystery of why Kitty refused to change.

  “I wish you’d trust me, Kitty. You know I’d never betray you, right? If you’re in trouble or running from something, I can help.”

  “Unless you can get me out of an arranged marriage set up by deranged shifters, I think I’ll keep going the way I am.”

  Mason’s reply mirrored Jag’s thoughts. “Who the fuck does arranged marriages anymore? This isn’t the Middle Ages, Kitty. If you don’t want to marry this guy, just say so.”

  “It’s so much more complicated than that, but saying more won’t help either, so can we drop it? Please?”

  Kitty sounded utterly exhausted, and with good reason after what she’d just been through. Jag saw this as a good time to finally knock, seeing as it would give
Kitty the break she needed.

  The door was nearly torn from its hinges by a clearly agitated Mason. “What do you need?”

  “Whatever might have been left behind by those bears. I assume they shifted while wearing their clothes, so if you found anything, I’d like to see it,” Jag stated, sure to maintain eye contact.

  Sighing, Mason stepped back and waved Jag inside. “They ran off with most of it in their mouths, but I found part of a shirt,” he explained. “I’ve got it in a plastic bag to keep the scent fresh for when I hunt later.”

  “I’d be up for helping you, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. I’ve just got to tie Kitty down before I go. The woman won’t rest!” He shouted in her direction.

  Her streaked hair fell loosely around her bruised face when she popped her head out from behind the bar, and Jag worked to school his features. Thoughts of what could have happened to Lynn, had she been there, left his cat whining in his head.

  Lynn never would have survived. As it was, abrasions covered Kitty, her skin mottled with various shades of black and blue. She sported a large bandage on her right upper arm, covering a wound that appeared to still bleed.

  “Aren’t you healing?” he asked, pointing to her arm.

  Mason growled. “One of the bastards had his claws silver-tipped. She’s lucky he didn’t hit an artery.”

  “Shit! Silver? Why would they do that, if they’re only after humans?”

  “Because they’re not,” Kitty said. “One of them kept raving about a ‘cleansing of the shifter nation’, or some crap like that. Reminds me of those stupid Kool-Aid cults a long time ago.” Kitty grinned as Mason’s frown deepened. “I’m thinking of dressing up like a slutty Goldilocks and stumbling through the woods on Halloween. Maybe, I’ll even have some antifreeze-laced honey with me for those naughty bears.”

  “Kitty.” Mason’s voice was low and rumbling as his face turned an alarming shade of crimson.

  “I know, I know. No baiting the psychos. I wouldn’t want to hurt any of the natural wildlife either.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be happy Lynn considers you a friend or scared shitless,” Jag confessed, earning a chuckle from Mason.