by Seere, Diana
Who was staring at Tobias with a big, silly grin filled with love.
Her left ovary turned into a harpoon aimed right at Asher. Heart speeding up, she watched as Asher turned his attention back to the matter at hand, long dark hair brushing his lapels, ice-blue eyes going hooded and protected once more.
Moving slowly, she crossed the room to be next to him, where she reached out to touch his hip. He jolted, and she felt him harden at her simple, gentle stroke up higher.
“You have to tell them all,” she whispered.
“About us? They already know,” he said in an absentminded voice. No, not distracted—
Consumed.
Consumed by lust for her.
“About your infection. The scar. How you see through Tomas’ eyes.”
An unheard of panic blossomed on his skin like a lightning field. “No!” he snapped, loud enough to turn heads. “Absolutely not. I refuse to tell them.”
Pulling herself to full height, she went nose to nose with him and gave an answer that disobeyed him.
“Then I will.”
Chapter 14
It pleased him to have everyone he loved in one room.
It did not please him to have Samantha about to put them all in jeopardy.
“Asher has been hiding a—”
Crushing her mouth with a searing kiss was not on the agenda, but as a technique for shutting her up, it was remarkably effective.
And eminently satisfying.
“Whatever Asher’s hiding, it’s becoming quite public now,” Derry said in the far distance.
Not far enough.
Sinking his tongue into the lush rain forests of her mouth, Asher let his guard down a fraction of an inch. It was more than he thought capable of giving. She bit his lip and kissed him back with the fury of a woman who had been bested, knew damn well she had, and who let him know her return blow would be swift, crafty, and just as powerful.
Bring it on, he told her.
You have no idea what I’m capable of, she said back, her hand on his ass, squeezing.
A clearing of male throats floated into his conscious until finally Sophia shouted, “Zach! Get the hose! We need to spray them apart!” and Derry’s booming laughter made Asher well aware that it had worked.
Samantha’s smeared lipstick and heated cheeks made him want to put her over his lap and spank her for grabbing his ass in front of his family, but then he thought of her ass. Her fine, wide, curvy ass, with planes and dips enough to please his big hands.
He was hard again.
And the object of everyone’s attention.
“Geeee!” shouted Dellie. Back in her mother’s lap again, she grabbed her brother’s jacket hood and yanked until he began to fuss. Gavin bounced the boy up and down as Lilah unclipped a nursing strap and settled her baby girl at the breast.
The parental commitment those two showed to the babies gave Asher an optimistic sense of the future.
“Do not tell them,” he whispered into Samantha’s ear.
“You have to! They deserve to know.”
“Not yet. I will, but not yet.”
“Why not?”
“What the hell are you two talking about?” Gavin demanded.
“Orgasms, from the look on Dr. Sam’s face,” Sophia joked.
“Yes!” Asher boomed, sounding frighteningly like McDermott for a few seconds, which was a few seconds longer than he ever wanted to resemble his bear brother. “We were discussing the finer points of the flesh.”
“We can scratch ‘successful dirty talker’ off the list of Asher’s character traits,” he heard Derry whisper to Jess, who giggled.
Even Asher had to chuckle at that. Samantha’s throaty laugh made him even harder, which seemed impossible. His hand remained at her waist, possessive, intentional. She allowed it. Leaned into him even. While the kiss had started as a mercenary act, it had evolved into an olive branch. A bridge.
A much-needed connection.
At a time when the shifter world seemed hopelessly fractured, any and all forms of connection made a difference. A big one.
Samantha smelled like coconut and lime, her hair intoxicating. That kiss, her caress, the intimacy made his defenses, primed and ready for battle, soften a bit. Soldiers need to stand down. Recharge. Let their bodies and minds regroup and find sustenance in layers of life beyond the fight.
Inhaling her scent, Asher was reminded of a state of being he hadn’t felt in years.
One he craved. His hunger had been there, buried deep but never fed.
Her hand moved to cover his, her shoulder nestling into his chest. He felt her arm wrap around his waist as she sighed. Kissing the top of her head, he took refuge for a few seconds in her solid, grounded presence. He need not hide from her.
He was enough.
She was here. Would always be here. By his side, forever and always.
The knowledge shook him. Rattled him to the core as it rooted him even more in the embrace of family. Looking around the room, he saw nothing but familiar faces, bodies in human form but souls—ah, souls unchanging, regardless of form.
Here, he simply was. As guardian of the pack, leader of his people, he came to a startling conclusion.
Then he tensed.
And spoke.
“Tomas has infected me.”
Pride, an emotion he’d not seen in another’s eyes since his parents were alive, shone in Samantha’s green orbs. It infused him with a sense of purpose, another layer to his determined, iron-fisted control over shifter affairs. Her eyes told him the leap he’d just made in revealing the truth beneath the surface was right.
Trust them, those eyes said.
Trust me.
“Infected?” Lilah’s alarmed tone carried compassion in it as well. “He injected you with a serum?”
“No.” Asher frowned and looked down at Samantha. “Or… did he?”
“You two have been working on this and did not tell me?” Gavin’s incredulity tired Asher. He exchanged a look with Samantha that said, See? I knew I should not have told them.
Her eyes disagreed.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Samantha said to Gavin, invoking her scientist voice. “We’re running tests. So far, there’s no change in Asher’s DNA. Nothing like we saw in tissue samples from Webb or Zach.”
Sophia clutched her husband’s arm, hard, at the mention of his name. Asher’s heart tugged. So many vulnerable people in his family now. The unborn child his sister carried. The niece and nephew in Gavin and Lilah’s arms.
So much responsibility.
“What do you mean by the word ‘infected’?” Gavin demanded.
“I… I see Tomas. I see through his eyes. When he gets close to me, I become weak. But I can see what he sees,” Asher stammered, horrified by his own uncertainty.
Sam squeezed his hand in support.
“Weak?” Edward gasped, Molly watching her beloved with an air of cautious worry. “You’re never weak!”
“Other than your lame attempts at humor,” Derry said, the joke falling flat.
“I’m working on the issue with Samantha and Dr. Santino,” he explained. “I cannot explain what Tomas has done to me. But if he’s done it to me, he could do it to others.”
“No one else in here has a cat mark, do you?” Samantha piped up, her face one of sudden insight. She looked at him. “We should have asked! What if they’re infected too?”
“Mark?” Jess asked, her voice soft with horror. “What kind of mark?” She touched her neck, eyes wide.
Reaching out with a consoling hand, Samantha soothed her with words. “No, nothing like your birthmark. It’s a scar-like raising of skin in the shape of a cat.”
Murmurs among the group made it crystal clear: no one else had been infected by Tomas.
Asher breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Good. Then I am the only one.”
“He targeted you,” Gavin said slowly. “Why?”
“I do not know.”
Fair enough. He deserved the accusation. “I truly do not know, Gavin.” Looking around the room, he met the eyes of every adult: Sophia, Zach, Derry, Jess, Gavin, Edward, and Molly. Even little Tobias caught his eye, making him smile reflexively. “I do not know. And now I ask for something truly extreme.”
“What? You need blood? A kidney? A bone marrow transplant? Say it, brother,” Edward choked out. “What do you need?”
Samantha pressed her fingertips against the spot where Tomas’ mark rested on his hip. Asher took a deep breath, and said the words hardest to speak.
“I need your help.”
* * *
Sam spent the rest of the day in the lab with Zach and two dozen biologists, chemists, geneticists, and lab technicians whom Gavin had flown out from Boston overnight. Like FedEx, except with more advanced degrees.
The family meeting that morning had ended with everyone’s enthusiastic, heartfelt vow to assist Asher in any way he might imagine. And then they had turned to Sam, because she would lead the team to find out what that might entail.
First, she’d requested everyone, even the old servant Morgan and, eventually, the security teams, drop by the lab and submit tissue and blood samples. They needed to know if anyone else had any trace of the infection.
Second, she’d asked the family to take turns keeping close to Asher.
“I beg your pardon?” Asher had demanded.
“For scientific reasons,” she’d said firmly. “You are far too stoic to be relied upon to report any pain or suffering you may be experiencing. Your family loves you and will be more… detailed.”
Wisely, his brothers and sister averted their eyes and managed to keep straight faces.
“Alarmist,” Asher retorted.
“Says the man who sent three dozen armed guards to watch me pee,” Sam said.
Asher’s voice dropped to a fierce growl. “Hyperbole does not suit you, Samantha. If anyone has even thought of doing such a thing, I will carve out their eyes.”
Third, she’d promised to do everything in her power as a scientist and a woman to help the Stanton family, shifters, and humankind before walking out of the room without a glance in Asher’s direction. Because if she had, she never would have found the strength to walk away from him again. The kiss, his touch, and yes, love, was binding them together more tightly every moment.
Many hours later, as she took a break from the lab to get a belated drink of water, she reflected that soon she wouldn’t have the willpower to walk out of a room Asher inhabited unless they—
Unless they what? It was more than sex. Obviously she wanted to tear off her clothes and climb into bed with him—finally, a bed with a mattress, silky sheets, a locked door, and all the time in the world—but this compulsion was something else.
It was the Beat. As it grew stronger, the bonds twisting them together pulled tighter. They would have to formally commit to one another or…
Or die.
She stood in the lab’s kitchen, holding a plastic cup of water, her gloved hand shaking.
They were in this to the end. All her mild qualms about where they lived, what mysteries hid in their blood, his acceptance of her career, her acceptance of his often overbearing personality—none of that mattered to fate. Their happiness was intertwined. But to enjoy their union, they would have to survive, above all.
And that was in question now.
“Sam! Are you all right?”
Zach and a lab tech were on either side of her, supporting each elbow.
She looked between them in a daze. Although she’d hired the lab tech herself, she couldn’t remember the young woman’s name.
“I’m fine,” Sam said, yawning. “Just a little tired.”
“You’re more than a little tired,” Zach said. “You’ve been working for six hours straight. You haven’t moved from your seat. Take a break.”
She held up her cup. “I am taking a break.”
Zach took it from her. “A real one. With food. When’s the last time you ate?”
“The main kitchen brought me a protein smoothie.”
“Real food,” Zach said.
“There’s no time. The smoothie had more than enough nutrients.” Sam turned, offering the lab tech a smile as she headed back to her desk.
Zach caught her arm. “You need more than nutrients, Dr. Sam,” he said, using her old nickname. “I understand your passion. I share it. But you won’t be doing anyone any good if you’re too tired and burned out to think. Like it or not, you’re human—or mostly human—and need to pace yourself.”
“But I have to—”
“I know. You’ll come back here as soon as you’ve had a little break. Fresh air. Maybe just a walk.” Zach held both her shoulders and dropped his voice. “Please, Sam. I’m worried about you. I know how you can push yourself too hard. All the late nights, the weekends—I’ve seen you work yourself into the ground.”
“There’s no time, Zach. Tomas is out there hunting us down. We have to find out what he’s done to Asher. Now! Yesterday!”
“You’re strong, Sam, but even you have your limits. You were swaying on your feet.” He bent down and spoke discreetly in her ear, too quiet for the lab tech to hear. “And you just drank one of the samples.”
She recoiled, making a face. “What? No! It was water—” She cut herself off and looked at the fridge. It had tasted a little off. And the bottle had been the wrong shape. Oh God, now she’d have to find out what it was and have whoever donated it come back to the lab.
Maybe she did need a little break.
“We hadn’t added Derry’s urine to it yet, so you’re safe,” Zach said.
“Oh God. Urine?” Sam was ready to admit defeat. She let Zach lead her to the door.
“Manny will escort you on your walk,” Zach said, opening the door. “He won’t let the other guards get too close to annoy you.”
She handed Zach her lab coat as she stepped outside, shuddering from the thought of drinking werebear pee.
“Good evening, Dr. Baird,” Manny said with a slight bow.
Zach closed the door behind her, and she had the impression he wouldn’t let her back in unless she took a long break from the lab.
“Hi, Manny,” she said. “Looks like I’m going to take a walk.”
“Very good, Doctor,” he said. “May I suggest the path to the left of the house? It’s nice and quiet.”
Late May, the sun was still bright in the sky, though sinking to the mountains in the west. Streaks of pink and blue swirled overhead, and she had the sudden urge to see the lake. It was beautiful every time of day, but especially in the evening. Someday she would learn how to paint so she could capture the feeling it gave her. A photograph could never show the soaring love in her heart she felt when she looked at it.
The memory of Asher’s courage in admitting weakness to his family that morning swept over her. Where was he now? He shouldn’t be alone. There were siblings and in-laws, servants and even friends—but as long as she wasn’t at his side, he was alone.
“Manny, do you know where Asher is?” she asked.
He shot her an unreadable look. “Are you mad at him, by any chance?”
“Of course not.” She chuckled, realizing that there was nothing of course about it. “Not at all,” she amended.
“Just wondering.” He cleared his throat. “Not my business if you are. But he might not be in a state to, uh, handle you right now if you were.”
“Handle me? Why, where is he?” Concern jolted through her. “Is he hurt? What happened? Why has nobody told—”
“Please, Dr. Baird! He’s fine. I mean, he’s not hurt. Not the way you mean.”
“So he is hurt.” She grabbed his arm. “Take me to him.”
“My pleasure,” Manny said.
He led her along the side of the house to a sloped, tree-lined path leading to the west side of the lake. Asher’s house was ahead, and
his siblings’ homes off other branches on the path. But instead of walking to Asher’s house, Manny paused near an enormous ponderosa pine, nodded, and walked into the woods.
“Where—”
“This way, please,” Manny said.
Following him, her heart began to pound. Was Asher in some kind of shifted state he didn’t want the others to see? Part cat, part wolf? Weakened, humiliated, sick, alone…
She forced herself to stop worrying about hypotheticals. Manny wasn’t panicked; she wouldn’t be either.
They walked for five, maybe ten minutes, during which she was too tense to appreciate the scenery, the fresh air, the musical accompaniment of the evening songbirds. Manny picked up his pace, and she matched it, willing to run if necessary. But then, just as they were to enter a clearing, he halted. Sam began to protest but then saw the figure on his knees in the grass. His head was bowed forward, his hands clasped at his waist. There was a stone, a headstone, propped up in the earth in front of him.
No, there were two headstones.
Asher was paying his respects to his lost loved ones.
His wife and child.
The death of whom had nearly broken him forever.
She didn’t know how long she stared at his grieving figure before she realized Manny had left. A good man, to find comfort for his boss when he himself was unable to provide it.
But could she offer comfort? How could she soothe the tragic loss of his first love and child?
Asher turned suddenly and saw her. She felt her own tears streaming down her cheeks.
“My dear,” he said, jumping to his feet and striding over to her. “What is the matter? Are you hurt? Has something happened?”
Wordlessly, she shook her head. Then she opened her arms and invited him, somewhat cautiously, into an embrace, silently vowing to herself she wouldn’t feel rejected if he was unable to take this comfort from her while they were here at the grave of his wife and child.
But he swept her up into his arms eagerly and willingly, burying his nose in her hair. “Samantha, darling,” he said gently, over and over. “I’m terribly sorry for upsetting you.”