by Liz Craven
“You didn’t know they knew about your … pack?”
“Pride,” he corrected. “I didn’t know they were in this state. In fact, we’ve only had rumors of them in the big cities: New York, Chicago, Los Angeles.”
“What about the Coalition?”
“They’ve always been secretive, but more pervasive. They recruit and motivate on fear using religion as a weapon.”
“Are they here too?”
“Not that we’ve seen, but we’ll be stepping up our vigilance.”
Coldness seeped into her very bone marrow. She’d been so focused on how the Tigre affected her own life, she hadn’t given a thought to the difficulties they suffered simply for being different. Or the danger they faced. “How scared should I be?”
He crushed her in bear hug and fervently whispered into the hair at the crown of her head, “I will never let them harm you.”
She’d meant how worried should she be for him, but the vehemence in his voice …. She took a moment to savor the caring, the feeling that she was important to him, the joy of mattering. Then he shifted, lowering his mouth to her ear and rational thought fled.
Three days later, she did her best to ignore the news article on Elliot and his friend who’d been hiking in the northwestern mountains when they were mauled to death by wild animals.
———
Two weeks later, Lucas stood by the window, brooding. Jan sat on the porch staring at the vista, but he doubted she admired the beauty. Her mind seemed a million miles away.
While a part of him rejoiced that she’d quit her job and was “staying” with him, her obvious unhappiness ate at his soul.
For reasons he couldn’t fathom—reasons generated exclusively by that second X chromosome—she both blamed herself for leading the Society to their Pride and, axiomatically, for involving herself with a man who’d sought her out to put her friends in danger.
Logic screamed Elliot had intentionally endeared himself to her to gain access to the Pride, making himself into a close-to-ideal-man for her. Unfortunately, he could think of no way to point that out without sounding like an ass. Don’t worry, Jan. He only sought you out, courted and promised to marry you so he could get close to Caitlyn’s Pride. It had nothing to do with you. No reason to feel guilty that you fell for it.
Frustrated, he turned from the window. It was afternoon, but dusk fell quickly in the winter months. He poured two glasses of red wine and carried them outside. Settling into the chaise beside her, he wordless passed her one.
She murmured her thanks and took a sip. Closing her eyes, she tipped her head back. “I got offered my old job back.”
His heart accelerated. The commute from his house was negligible and in the opposite direction of the heavy traffic. He wanted to jump and embarrass himself by bursting into the Snoopy dance. He managed to restrain himself. “I thought you loved your old job.”
“I did.”
“Didn’t you want to do field work again?”
“Yes.”
“But you aren’t pleased with getting what you wanted?”
She sighed. “It’s not that simple.”
He waited. When she didn’t elaborate, he prodded. “How is it ‘not simple’?”
“Now I have to protect all of you. They’ve already used me to get to you once.”
Taken aback, his brain took a moment to process her logic. When she’d been less than enthusiastic, he’d sheltered a small fear that the recalcitrance stemmed from being his mate. The fact she wanted to protect his people warmed his heart. “Few humans know we exist—humans we consider friends. We don’t expect them to do anything to protect us, save keep our secret. Quite the opposite.”
She glared at him. “How many of them have led a shifter into a Society ambush?”
“Humans who know about us are at risk. We guard them as best we can. We don’t expect them to guard us.”
“What if I screw up and let something slip. You have no idea what heavy drinking is done when archaeologists get together.”
“Honey, if you are that drunk, no one will believe—”
Her gasp of horror cut him off midsentence. She shot wide-eyes to him. “What if I discover evidence relating to shifters? I’ll have to lie or omit it. All that information could be lost forever.”
Inspiration struck. “Not necessarily. We have our own historians and librarians. Having an archaeologist who can expand our knowledge … In fact, we have some sacred sites that we know very little about.”
Jan cocked her head and interest gleamed in her eyes. “Really?”
“We fund our researchers well, running all contributions through several companies and ultimately to the Consortium.”
“Consortium?”
“It’s got a long title, but I can’t remember it. Everyone just calls it the Consortium. It’s an inter-shifter research group that devotes itself to the myriad issues facing shifters and the areas of shifter life that must remain hidden.”
“Such as medical,” she guessed.
“Medical is one of the fields,” he agreed. “But we are still trying to understand our origins, and unlike humans, we won’t sacrifice science if it contradicts religion. We believe science and religion are two sides of the same coin. If science changes, religion does, so our scientists and religious experts both work for the Consortium.”
“As you do?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m a doctor. Granted I went to medical school intending to go to work for them, but I discovered I preferred being a healer to a researcher. I still work with them. Unlike humans, we have no privacy laws where medical information is concerned. What affects one of us affects all of us. So, I participate in the research that way.”
“Wow. That really chafes me. It makes logical sense, but it really goes against the grain.”
He smiled, but could feel the grimness in it. “You’ve been blessed to live in a world where individual rights supersede the needs of the whole.”
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few … or the one,” she muttered.
He blinked. “Did you just quote Star Trek to me?”
“Star Trek Two: The Wrath of Khan.”
Lucas shook his head. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier.”
“You think quoting Star Trek is sexy?”
“Hell yes. You want to get me really hot, try quoting Star Wars or Top Gun.”
“The Department of Defense regrets to inform you that your sons are dead because they were stupid.”
“Be still my heart,” he growled playfully and moved to lean over her.
She slapped a palm against his chest. “Not so fast Goose.”
“I’m Goose?”
“Of course,” she grinned. “I’m Maverick.”
“I look forward to seeing how much of a maverick you are,” he teased, letting the heat of his desire flood his eyes.
“I’ll blow Tom Cruise out of the sky,” she promised. “But first we are going to finish our discussion of the Consortium.”
With Jan smiling beneath him in the fading light of day, he was having a tough time recalling the conversation. Something about the Consortium. Oh, yeah. “They will jump at the chance to work with you.”
“I’ll have to be gone a few weeks a year on digs at these sites,” she warned.
“Sounds like fun.”
“I thought we’d suffer if separated.” Suspicion had her eyes narrowing at him.
With effort he swallowed a grin. He’d never get anything past his brilliant mate. “You would if I didn’t go with you.”
“You’d go with me?”
“Tigre are a hearty bunch and more of us are getting into the medical field. Damien will spare me a few weeks each year to accompany my mate on a dig.”
“It’s something to consider,” she hedged. “If he’ll let us go together.”
He heard the excitement in her voice. “I promise nothing will stand in our way if you want to go on a dig.”
Her face lit up. “I accept that promise.”
Unable to contain the emotion burning in his chest, he murmured, “I love you.”
She gave him a wicked smile and said, “I know,” before capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss.
The ring in his pocket burned his left cheek, but he gritted his teeth. Now was not the time to corner her. She’d all but admitted to being his mate. The ring could wait until she was comfortable. But any woman who could quote Goose and a scene from Star Trek back-to-back would never escape him.
The End