Mate Claimed su-4

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Mate Claimed su-4 Page 8

by Jennifer Ashley


  His sister and brother-in-law both gave him an oh-sure look. Cassidy smiled as she took a sip of water. “You can tell us, Eric. Is she hot?”

  Eric hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t lie to Cassidy. She’d smell a lie on him a mile away. “Black hair, blue eyes, body like a goddess.”

  Diego’s face split with a grin. “Good for you.”

  “Is she the woman I saw you with at Coolers last spring?” Cassidy asked.

  Damn Cassidy’s terrific memory. When Eric had first spied Iona in the Shifter bar, he’d gotten her out of there before any of the other Shifters could scent what she was. Iona had been passing for human—still was—but Eric had sensed something different about her when he saw her, and scented her easily when he’d gotten close. Eric hadn’t thought anyone else had noticed him walk her out of the bar.

  Cassidy, of course, had an eye on everything Eric did. Eric loved the connection he had to his sister, but the close bond could be inconvenient at times.

  “Yes, that was her,” Eric said. “And, yes, I found out all about her and who she was. So, when we needed the new houses, I asked her to try to get the bid.”

  “And you’ve kept quiet about her all this time,” Diego said.

  Eric took another sip of beer, hearing the implied why? in Diego’s voice. “Stop being a detective, Diego. I’m Shiftertown leader. If I start a relationship with a woman, it’s talked about all over Shiftertown. Shifters debate whether she’s good for them, how alpha she is, and all that crap. I’m trying to keep it casual, to ease her in gradually.”

  A half-truth. Eric would bring Iona in eventually, and when he revealed that she was half-Shifter, the shit was going to hit the fan. He needed to make sure Iona was completely safe first.

  “Don’t mention this to anyone.” Eric fixed Cassidy and Diego, in turn, with his alpha stare.

  Which they both completely ignored. “We don’t talk about your private life,” Diego said.

  “Except to each other,” Cassidy said, her smile teasing. “And to bug you with questions about it.”

  At least they were joking, thinking Eric had the hots for a human woman he’d met in a Shifter bar. He’d tell them soon.

  Some part of Eric, though, wanted to keep Iona private. Shifters had sequestered their females in the old days—they had to, to keep other males from challenging for them or outright stealing them.

  Times were changing, Shifters lived in relative safety now, and they were one big happy family. Right?

  Cassidy became serious. “What are you going to do about the modifications to the houses?” she asked. “Can she keep it quiet?”

  “I think so. But I’ll make sure before I tell her anything.”

  “Modifications?” Diego asked. “You mean your secret hideaways?”

  Diego, once he’d become Cassidy’s mate, had been taken downstairs to the hidden rooms all Shifter houses had. In them, Shifters could take refuge or hide the wealth they’d accumulated over the years, safe from humans or other Shifters.

  Go to ground wasn’t just a saying among Shifters. No one outside each Shifter clan was allowed into the spaces—even different prides of the same clan could keep each other out if they chose.

  No human knew of these things, and no human, except a mate of the pride or pack, could ever know.

  Eric was relieved of having to explain more about Iona by the arrival of Jace. “Hey, Dad,” he said, breezing in. “Graham wants to talk to you.”

  Eric didn’t hear him for a second, struck, as always, by how much Jace looked like Kirsten. He had her look, the shape of her face and nose, the quirk of the head she’d had. It hurt, but at the same time, Eric felt a wash of love.

  Eric went to Jace and pulled him into an embrace, holding his son hard for a moment or two. Jace returned the embrace, then Eric let him go and ruffled his dark hair, still amazed that Jace, his unruly little cub, had grown into such a powerful man.

  “What does he want now?” Eric asked.

  “He wasn’t about to tell me,” Jace said. His eyes were green, like Eric’s. “I said I wasn’t his messenger service, but I thought you’d like to know.”

  Nor could Eric run to Graham’s side the instant Graham wanted to talk. Graham wanted that—to make it look as though Eric had answered his summons.

  Damn the wolf. Everything Graham did and said was calculated, the Lupine determined to take over. He’d do it subtly at first and then overtly.

  Cassidy smiled a predatory smile. “Want me to talk to him, Eric?”

  “I want you as far away from him as you can be,” Eric growled. “Understand?”

  “I’m your second,” Cassidy went on in a reasonable voice. “I’m supposed to take care of things you decide don’t need your firsthand attention. You sending me to meet him will underscore that he’s not your top priority.”

  “You’re female,” Eric said. “And pregnant. He hates females in authority.”

  Cassidy brightened. “Even more insulting, then.”

  “No, Cass,” Diego said before Eric could answer. Diego’s voice was hard, and he gave the meat a vicious stir, dark eyes on Cassidy.

  Cassidy looked at her mate, mouth open to say more, then she closed it, went to Diego, and snuggled up against his side. “Thank you,” she said.

  “I agree with Diego,” Eric said. “It’s tempting to rub McNeil’s face in it, but, no. We can’t predict what he’d do. I’ll meet him—I want to know what he’s up to.”

  First, though, Eric had to make sure Iona’s scent was completely off him.

  A female heavy with child would have the strongest scent, so Eric went to Cassidy, peeled her away from Diego, and pulled her into another hug.

  Then again, he just loved his sister. They’d been through so much together—hardship and good times, joy and grief, always there for each other. Eric held Cassidy for a long time, rubbing her back and kissing her hair, while she hugged him in return without question.

  Eric released Cassidy and hugged Jace again, his love for his son pouring through him.

  Jace returned the hug but looked at Eric in puzzlement when they drew apart. “Love you too, Dad. What’s up?”

  “Nothing. Just wanting time with my family.” Eric grinned at his brother-in-law and spread his arms. “Diego.”

  Diego brought up his cooking fork. “Back off, Eric.”

  Eric did, still chuckling, and he left the house to find Graham.

  Graham McNeil approached the meeting place in the common ground that ran between Shifter backyards, knowing damn well that Warden would never agree to talk to him anywhere but there.

  An old picnic table with one bench sat in a weedy spot out in the open, away from the mesquites that lined the long open space. Graham knew why Eric had chosen it—the table could be watched by any number of Shifters out their back windows, even in the moonlight.

  Eric’s Shifters, that is. If Graham so much as raised his voice to Eric, those Shifters would come out in force. Which was why Graham always stationed a few of the wolves he’d been allowed to bring from Elko at certain intervals, watching for trouble.

  By the time Graham approached the meeting place, Eric was already there, his ass planted on top of the picnic table, moonlight picking out his black tattoo. As always, the man sat stone still, watching Graham with the confidence of a predator who knew he ruled this patch.

  Let Warden pin him with his stare all he wanted. When Graham challenged for leadership and won, he’d gouge out those weird green eyes and play marbles with them.

  Graham stopped about two yards from the picnic table, out of Eric’s reach, Eric out of his. No challenges tonight.

  Eric stank of his sister and her unborn cub—the Shiftertown leader was ecstatic about his sister giving birth to a half human, half Shifter. He had to be out of his mind.

  Warden didn’t ask what Graham wanted. That would acknowledge that Eric had come because he wanted to know what Graham had to say.

  Graham didn’t want to talk
about leadership tonight, though. His nephew’s behavior this afternoon had reminded him of a need, and also reminded him that this Shiftertown provided him a good opportunity to fill it.

  “My nephew’s an idiot,” Graham said without greeting. “I disciplined him for the attack on your bear.”

  If Eric was surprised, he hid it well. He acknowledged the apology with a nod.

  “But his asshole-ness brought home to me how much I need an heir,” Graham said. “A son. And for that I need a mate. So I want you to provide me one.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Eric didn’t blink, but Graham scented the amazement that jolted through the Feline’s body. He hadn’t been expecting that.

  After a deliberate silence, Eric asked, “Why can’t you mate with someone from your own Shiftertown?”

  “Because the only surviving females belong to my clan, too closely related to me. I need fresh blood.”

  The fresh blood pissed Warden off, but too bad. Graham needed a wolf female from a new gene pool to give him strong cubs.

  Eric’s voice held a warning growl. “I don’t tell my Shifters who to mate with.”

  “That’s obvious. You let your own sister mate with a human. How fucked up is that?”

  “They share the mate bond.”

  “A Shifter can’t share a mate bond with a human.” Everyone knew that. “Your sister’s fooling herself if she thinks so.”

  “You’ve lived out in the sticks too long. It happens.”

  “Yeah, I heard the leader of the Austin Shiftertown mated with a human. Dickhead. Just proves that Felines are insane. Doesn’t matter. You’ve got unmated wolves here. Tell them to come see me. I need someone alpha, not bottom of the pack.”

  “If you want a mate, McNeil, you’re on your own. The females here choose for themselves.”

  What an idiot. “Goddess, what kind of leader are you? I’m offering you the chance to make a good alliance with me. If you do, I might let you survive when I take you down.”

  “I’m touched,” Eric said dryly. “My females are welcome to take your offer or spit on you, as they choose.” He paused. “Although, now that I think about it, Nell is getting lonely for a mate.”

  He knew Eric was trying to be funny, but Graham’s irritation rose. “You mean that crazy-ass bear with the shotgun? Bears are even worse than Felines. You need to keep her under control.”

  “I’ll tell her you said ‘hi.’” Eric rested his hands on his knees, a posture that said he didn’t need to bother being defensive. “Was that it? Because my human brother-in-law is a hell of a chef, and I want a taste of what he’s making tonight.”

  “You’ve gone soft, living here.”

  “We’ve survived, living here,” Eric said. “Fewer deaths, more cubs.”

  “Yeah, yeah, Shiftertown is paradise and all that bullshit. Our houses have to be altered. I have plenty of stuff to move down here, and I don’t need the humans finding it.”

  “I’m taking care of it.”

  “So you say. I don’t trust you.”

  Eric’s green eyes narrowed. “Too damn bad. Are you cleaning up your Shiftertown behind you? I don’t want humans raiding here because they found all the hidey-holes you left behind.”

  “Being taken care of even as we speak. My crew is reliable.”

  Eric stood up, acting nonchalant, but at the same time maintaining the few feet of distance between them. Warden didn’t move his gaze, though. His eyes had been on Graham’s the whole time.

  “My crew is reliable to get the houses altered,” Eric said. “I’ll keep you posted. In the meantime, don’t harass my wolves. If a female spits in your face after your romantic proposal, suck it up.”

  Graham gave him the finger. Eric didn’t respond, except to casually turn his back and walk away.

  Graham let him go. He didn’t trust Warden an inch, but Graham had decided to let him know about his mate need as a courtesy. A good leader did that. He didn’t trust Eric about the houses either, but when Graham was leader, that wouldn’t matter.

  Now to do exactly what he’d planned to do, and to hell with Warden.

  Three days passed, and Nicole’s wedding rushed at Iona with sickening speed. Iona wanted Nicole married and happy, yes, but things would never be the same between them again. Iona was going to miss her little sister.

  Iona picked up her bridesmaid’s dress from the bridal boutique the day before the wedding and looked it over in her bedroom at home. The gown wasn’t too appalling, thank heavens, because Nicole had taste. The skirt was an ankle-length sheath of royal blue, slit to the thigh on one side, the top a satin tank with inch-thick shoulder straps. That was it. No tulle or poofiness anywhere.

  Iona hung the gown carefully in her closet so it wouldn’t get wrinkled, and changed into a black linen pantsuit with a white sleeveless shirt for the wedding rehearsal. When she and Nicole and friends transitioned to the bachelorette party, here at Iona’s house, she could shuck the linen blazer and be comfortable in just the top and pants.

  Iona wondered, as she left the house, what Eric would think of her outfit. She knew he’d see it, because while Eric hadn’t called Iona or shown up out of the blue in the last few days, he’d been watching her.

  He was good at it, never lingering too long in one place, staying in the shadows or melting back into a crowd when she looked for him. He covered his Collar with shirt or jacket and somehow made himself look smaller and more human, so that no one noticed a Shifter hanging out on the streets with them.

  But Iona knew he was there. She’d catch a whiff of his scent or see a movement that was unmistakably Eric.

  He watched her go to work, appeared at building sites she visited, was there in the evenings when she got into her truck to drive home. Whenever Iona looked out her bedroom window in the middle of the night, she swore she caught a glimpse of Eric in the street below.

  Didn’t he have better things to do? Like run Shiftertown? Maybe she should call Diego again and tell him to post security on his brother-in-law.

  Iona didn’t see Eric anywhere nearby when she arrived at the church for the rehearsal. Why did that disappoint her?

  Iona entered the church, the last to get there, to find Nicole talking excitedly with her bridesmaids. Tyler, the groom, stood next to Nicole, a stunned look on his face. He’d worn the look ever since Nicole, who’d taken Iona’s advice and gone to her doctor, had told him she was pregnant. Happy, but stunned.

  “Hey, Tyler,” Iona said, giving him a brief hug. “How’s Daddy?”

  “Fine.” Tyler sent her a sheepish smile. “Just fine.”

  “This wedding stuff will be over soon. And then you’ll have Nicole all to yourself.”

  “Sure,” Tyler said. “Over. Right.”

  Iona rubbed his shoulders. “Don’t worry, you can get nice and drunk tonight. Just make sure you can stand up in the morning long enough to say the vows. And don’t drop the ring.”

  “You’re all heart, Iona.”

  Iona gave him a peck on the cheek and turned to embrace her sister. The scent of the child growing inside Nikki had strengthened, even in such a short time. The scent sparked the need Iona had been fighting the last few days, fanning it to life.

  She backed off and moved halfway down the aisle, pretending she wanted to sit down. She couldn’t trust her eyes to not go Shifter around Nicole, or the mating need not to start making her sprout fur.

  Iona breathed a sigh of relief when the rehearsal began. Remembering what she had to do would keep her mind off shifting—and mating—she hoped.

  As the maid of honor, Iona had to lead the other bridesmaids down the aisle, timing her steps to avoid rushing or going too slowly. She’d stand to the left of her sister and hold the bridal bouquet while Tyler put the ring on Nicole’s finger. She’d then wait until everyone went back down the aisle and pair up with Tyler’s brother, Clay, the best man, to walk out with him.

  Iona liked Clay, but she felt a little uneasy with him. When
Tyler and Nicole had first started getting serious, Clay had thought it would be great if he and Iona paired up too. Iona had put him off—she didn’t want to tell him that a) she sometimes shifted into a panther, and b) she would probably live twice as long as he would, which is what her research told her half human, half Shifters did. Though she looked the same age as Clay, she was ten years older than he was already. Clay got the hint that Iona wasn’t interested, but he still showed hope around her.

  After the rehearsal, they all left the church for the rehearsal dinner. Iona didn’t see Eric between church and restaurant, nor did she when she returned home to finish prepping for Nicole’s party. Nicole and her friends arrived soon after, and the party started to swing.

  Well toward midnight, the doorbell rang. Iona pretended to be busy in the kitchen, and Nicole’s friends goaded Nicole to answer it.

  Nicole screamed with laughter when a fireman sauntered into the house, complete with hose, and started shedding his gear in the living room. The women surrounded him while he danced to a thumping beat, and Iona watched from the doorway with a smile.

  The music wound louder. The music, combined with the women’s excitement, embraced Iona and made her want to dance too. The living room was dim except for the middle where the stripper gyrated—someone had turned on one of Iona’s ceiling spots and killed the rest of the lights. The girls danced with him, Nicole laughing as the man wrapped his hose around her.

  Nicole spotted Iona in the doorway. “Come on, Iona,” she yelled. “You know you love to dance!”

  Iona shouldn’t. Too dangerous. But the music called to her, the rhythm synching with some rhythm inside her body. The thrum, thrum, thrum was fierce and primal.

  The ladies whooped as Iona kicked her shoes off and danced in. The stripper grinned, a good sport, and wrapped the end of his fire hose around her waist.

  Iona raised her arms in the dance, her blood getting hot, but not because the guy was attractive. He smelled too much of human sweat and cologne, not a good combination to a Shifter. Eric always smelled clean, like wind and the night.

 

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