Finally Spike leaned down to Jordan and made an animal sound—one loud beat. Jordan swung his head around in surprise, then coiled his tail around Spike’s arm and subsided.
Olaf was already quiet under Ronan’s big arm, his dark eyes wide. Fortunately, Jordan hadn’t hurt him much, only a surface wound, which had already stopped bleeding.
Everyone went back to what they’d been doing, but Myka sensed a change. The Shifters weren’t alarmed exactly—they behaved more as if they were filing away information for use at a later date. The conversations began again, Sean announced the burgers were done, and everyone ate.
Jordan was asleep again, in his wildcat form, when Spike carried him home. Liam gave Spike a look before they went, which Spike acknowledged with a nod.
“Something happened,” Myka said once she, Ella, and Spike with Jordan were down the block. “When Jordan and Olaf started to fight—something made everyone stop. And not just because Olaf was bleeding.”
Spike hefted Jordan higher on his shoulder. “Jordan showed dominant behavior.”
“What does that mean? Is it a problem?”
Ella answered. “Our family isn’t supposed to be very dominant. There’s only Spike and me left. But Jordan’s behavior showed that maybe we aren’t as far down the food chain as everyone thinks. Jordan’s acting on instinct, because he doesn’t know any better, but it shows that Spike has been holding himself back all these years.”
“When Jordan gets a little older, he’ll seriously start fighting,” Spike said. He sounded as though he didn’t know what to make of that—be proud? Or worried?
Ella chuckled. “Welcome to my world. Bringing up a warrior Shifter on my own was no picnic, especially in the wild.”
Spike remained silent, face betraying no emotion, or maybe that was the shadows because it was growing dark.
When they reached the house, Ella took Jordan and said she’d put him to bed. The kid was so out of it that Ella simply slung the ball of fur across her shoulder and carried him to his room.
She went because she wanted Myka and Spike to talk. Myka read that in every line of her retreating back.
Myka had been reliving the hot kiss every second since Spike had pulled her against him. The nearness of him, now that they were alone again, brought the thoughts pounding to the front of her brain.
Whatever Spike was thinking about took him to the front window to look out at the lawn that was fading to brown for the coming winter. The dragon on his back hid under his shirt, its wings snaking down his arms to flow around the jaguars coming the other way. Before he’d walked to the Morrissey house with Liam, Spike had changed clothes again, and Myka had to wonder if this time he’d put on underwear.
“I should go home,” she said, surprised at her reluctance.
Spike swung around. “Why? You said you’d stay.”
The vehemence in his tone made her take a step back. “I thought you meant help out when you needed someone to watch Jordan. Your grandma’s here, and you’re not as bad at taking care of him as I feared. I need to go to the stables tomorrow.”
“But I need to go somewhere tonight.”
“Oh. Where? Something for Liam?”
“Sort of for Liam.” He went quiet and distant again. “Sort of not.”
Myka hooked her thumbs in her front pockets. “Leaving you here today with Liam made me nervous. Why was he so mad at you? For wanting to come home to your cub?”
“For not reporting to him right away. My first loyalty is supposed to be to the Shiftertown leader, no matter what. But I’ve been thinking since last night . . . screw that.”
“Because of Jordan.”
“Because of him.” Spike touched his chest. “Something opened up in here when I saw him. Something . . . I don’t know.”
“Kids are a big responsibility,” Myka ventured, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant.
“I want to protect him with everything I have. If that means telling Liam to piss off, then I tell him to piss off.”
Myka had known Spike fewer than twenty-four hours, and she already was rearranging her ideas about him. Last night she’d been torn between worry that he wouldn’t want Jordan at all and fear that he’d become so crazed about him he’d turn into a man like her stepfather.
Myka stepfather, after her mother’s death, had used the simplest means to relieve himself his anger and pain—taking it out on Myka. He’d both wanted Myka around as a reminder of her mother, whom he’d loved, and at the same time hated having her there as a reminder of what he’d lost. Myka had needed someone to turn to in her grief, and had found that the logical person had only hurt her and made her to live in fear and misery.
Spike wasn’t the same person as her stepfather, and though the situations were similar, they weren’t quite the same. Spike was Jordan’s biological father, and he’d never known Jillian except for that fleeting night. His focus in all this was Jordan, and Jordan alone.
“Is this thing you need to do going to get Liam mad at you again?” she asked.
“Maybe.” The gathering darkness sunk the living room into gloom, but Spike made no move to turn on lights. His eyes had flicked to Shifter, glowing golden in the dark. He put his hands on her shoulders. “Stay until I get back?”
“Which will be when?”
“Two, maybe three hours?”
Myka let out a breath. “All right. But I really have to get to the stables tomorrow, to stop them being sold out from under me.”
Spike looked surprised, as though he didn’t realize Myka might have a life. He tightened his grip on her shoulders.
He was going to kiss her again. She should mind, she should spin away so he couldn’t.
She didn’t. Spike didn’t kiss her either. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace.
Myka leaned into him, suddenly craving his touch. Comfort leached from his arms around her, and he rested his cheek on her head. She slid her hands around his waist, finding the small of his back, and giving it a little caress, the embrace returned.
Spike lifted her chin and gave her a long, warm, deep, toe-curling kiss, before he released her, swung away, opened the door into the growing autumn darkness, and was gone.
*** *** ***
Gavan met Spike in a coffee shop on the south side of Austin, one that let in Shifters. It was an old-fashioned coffee shop with a long row of booths, food that hadn’t been upscaled to death, and coffee that was plain and black, though the place had conceded to put in a latte machine.
“Congratulations on your cub,” Gavan said, lifting his coffee in salute.
“News gets around.”
“In Shiftertowns? Are you kidding me? I also heard you didn’t go straight to Liam and rat me out.”
Spike twined his scarred hands on the table. “Had things to do.”
“That’s what I like about you, Spike. You don’t complicate things. Which is good, because I need you to keep it simple.”
Spike waited. He took a sip of his coffee, which wasn’t bad but wasn’t great. He wouldn’t hold out much hope for the lattes, even if he drank them.
“Doesn’t really matter if you run from me to Liam, though,” Gavan said. “I’m thinking your instincts are going to help me no matter what, but I like to hedge my bets.”
Any other time Spike would wait in seeming patience for the man to get to the point, but the thought of Myka waiting back at the house for him, watching over Jordan, the new miracle in his life, made him jumpy.
“What is this thing you want me to do?”
Gavan looked surprised at the question, but he shrugged. “Nothing you don’t usually do. Win fights.” Gavan sipped his coffee, made a face, and set the cup down again. “I’m going soft too. I’ve started liking premium blends.” He pushed the cup away. “That’s it, my friend. Just keep on winning fights.”
“How would that help you? Are you running a betting ring on me?”
Gavan gave him a smile. The smile
made him look a little less ugly, but only a little. “Like we talked about earlier today, based on strength, you should be at the top of your clan, should be vying for a leadership position in Shiftertown. But because your family is here on Morrissey charity, you’re pushed aside. And yet, you walk into that fight club and win every match. People love you.”
“They love me because they win wagers.”
“That’s only part of it. The Shifters, they admire you, they cheer for you, they want you to win. You’re the kind of hero everyone loves—the underdog with amazing ability who rises to the top.”
Spike went silent. True, he liked hearing the roar of approval when he walked into the ring, the cushion of sound that kept him strong against the toughest opponent. Spike tasted triumph when he threw down the huge wolves, wildcats, and most of all, the bears that dared come up against him.
He was powerful, and he knew it. The fights confirmed it, as Gavan said. If they were still in the wild, Spike would have been high in the hierarchy by now, if not at the top.
He unlaced his fingers and studied them, as though Gavan had given him something new and difficult to think about. “Dominance isn’t only about strength,” he said.
“No, but strength is a start. I’ll be arranging certain matches at the fight club Saturday night. You win them, and I’ll reward you.”
“With what?”
Gavan’s shoulders rose. “Whatever you want. Eventually, I want you working with me. Like I said, you’re wasted in the Austin Shiftertown. Fergus at least used you a little better. You should be second-in-command by now. An enforcer.”
“Liam’s brother is his second. In a close race with their dad.”
“Liam’s brother is the Guardian and shouldn’t be used as his second. And by rights, their dad should be dead.”
In the wild, Dylan Morrissey, Liam’s father, certainly would have been dead. But Liam had shown him mercy. For the first time in Shifter history, the old clan leader was allowed to live out his life instead of being killed or driven into the wilderness by the newer, younger leader. Civilized life in Shiftertown was changing everything.
“The point is,” Gavan said, “In Shiftertowns, the leadership is all messed up. Why should one Feline clan, the Morrisseys, rule? That was an arbitrary decision by the humans. Why is Liam at the head of the Austin Shiftertown? Why was it Dylan before him? You and me know far more about what goes on in both Austin and San Antonio than anyone else. The leaders pretend they’re on top of things, but we do all the grunt work.”
“Does your Shiftertown leader agree with you?” Spike asked.
Gavan laughed. “Would I be talking to you if he did?”
The leader of the San Antonio Shiftertown these days was a Lupine, who had been head of the highest ranking Lupine clan there. Though Gavan had stayed on as the Lupine’s tracker, no one in Gavan’s family had any real power, which, Spike thought, must be at the heart of the matter.
“So you want me to fight?” Spike asked.
“Yep. Fight and win. That’s it.”
Spike reached for his coffee and took another sip. “Who am I fighting?”
“You worry about that when you step into the ring. I’m putting a lot of money on you, which should tell you I’m not concerned about you losing.”
“And you don’t care if I tell Liam all this?”
Gavan opened his hands. “It’s your choice. It’s not against the rules for me to talk to you about the fights, and to tell you I think you’re a winner. Whether you decide to use your skills to move up the hierarchy is your business. But if I’m ever in a position to make you my enforcer, my second—and I’m not saying I will be—you’ll be hearing from me.”
Spike folded his hands around his cup and studied the liquid inside. Let Gavan think him slow instead, while in truth Spike’s thoughts were chasing each other around like Jordan chasing himself around Spike’s house. Gavan was trying to be subtle, but he’d always been about as subtle as a leopard with square spots.
Ambitious Shifters weren’t hard to find—it was natural to try to move up in the hierarchy. Better to be dominant than have to let others kick your ass all the time. Even Jordan, young as he was, had started trying to establish his position.
Spike took another sip of coffee. “Win the fights,” he repeated. “What if I can’t? What if I’m up against a Shifter who happens to be better than me?” Didn’t happen often, but it happened.
Gavan’s affable look remained, but his eyes lost all warmth, his false friendliness vanishing. “You’ll win, Spike. Losing isn’t an option.”
“But if I do?”
“Make damn sure you don’t.”
Meaning that if Spike screwed up whatever Gavan had planned, Gavan would take restitution.
Two days ago, Spike wouldn’t have cared much. He’d do what he wanted and tell Gavan to go screw himself. Today, he had much more to lose. Jordan. Myka. Life suddenly had possibilities, ones he didn’t want to miss.
When Spike looked up from his coffee again, he let none of this show in his eyes. “Sounds simple. I usually win anyway.”
Gavan relaxed a fraction. “Good then. Saturday night is the next fight club. See you then. In the meantime, go spend time with your cub. I hear he’s a handful.”
“He’s fine,” Spike said, letting the growl enter his voice.
Gavan chuckled. “Good for you.”
He reached across the table to clasp Spike’s shoulder. Spike’s every instinct told him to jerk away and rip Gavan’s face off, but he made himself sit still. That fight was yet to come.
*** *** ***
Myka woke when she heard the porch swing creak.
She’d bunked down on the comfortable couch in the living room, Jordan in bed down the hall, sleeping the all-out way only kids could sleep. Meant he’d be full of energy tomorrow.
Myka rose and peeked out the living room window to see Spike sitting alone on the swing, moonlight slanting across the boards of the porch. The ticking clock next to the sofa told her it was midnight.
She opened the door quietly and stepped out onto the porch.
Spike didn’t look up at her. He’d know she was there, because he was Shifter, and he’d hear and scent her. Myka crept across the porch and sat down beside him.
Why did she like being so close to him? His body heat slid across her skin, soothing her. She was supposed to not trust him, but her fears had started eroding the minute she’d seen him rescue Jordan from that tree.
“You all right?” she asked, keeping her voice hushed.
Spike gazed out across the porch railing to the silent house on the other side of the street. “When you look at me, Myka, what do you think?”
“What?” She moved her gaze up and down his body. “What do you mean?”
“What do you see?” Spike turned his head and looked at her, his Shifter eyes once again tinged with luminescent gold. “When you saw me last night, for the first time, what did you see in me?”
Chapter Ten
No question. “I saw a fighter,” she said. “A jaguar kicking a bear’s ass. Then you turned into a powerful man covered in blood. Scary as hell.”
“You walked right up to me and handed me a bottle of water.”
“Took all my courage to do it. I had to pretend you were a horse.”
The remote look fled. Spike blinked. “A horse? What the fuck?”
“Don’t get your ego into a big twist. I have to work with difficult horses sometimes. Mean shits—the stallions can be tricky, but some mares . . . Man, you don’t want to get on their bad sides. Geldings are the easiest to work with.”
“Don’t even look at me and say gelding.”
“Calm down.” Myka grinned and held up her hands. “See? No scalpel, no anesthetic. What I meant was, when I have to approach a horse that’s dangerous, I have to walk right up to him like I’m not afraid. They sense your fear and use it against you. You have to be head of the herd and let them know you’re not going to take
their shit.”
Spike’s tension didn’t ease. “You have to show you’re dominant.”
“Exactly. Just because I’m five-foot-two and they outweigh me about ten times doesn’t make any difference.”
“Huh. You’d make a good Shifter.”
“I figured, if it worked with horses, it might work with Shifters. The difference is that Shifters can think like humans do, so that makes you way more dangerous.”
“So, I’m smarter than a horse,” Spike said dryly. “Thanks.”
Myka shrugged. “It’s the way I think.”
His eyes glinted. “How long did it take you to figure out I was smarter than a horse?”
“Mmm . . . Couple minutes?”
“Dumb-ass fighter, that’s Spike.”
Myka put her hand on his thigh. “I was teasing.”
“I know.”
His voice gentled again, and Spike put his hand over hers. The warmth of him slid through her body like a soft summer night.
“It’s what Gavan sees,” Spike said after a time. “Even what Liam sees.”
“Who’s Gavan?”
“Asshole who wants me to turn on Liam and go work for him.” Spike lifted his hand from hers and stretched his arm along the back of the swing. “Gavan didn’t come out and say it, but that’s what he wants.”
“Is this something you want to do?”
“It doesn’t work that way. I’m a tracker. Means I don’t quit when I’m bored.”
“Hey, I’m new to Shifters. Don’t bite me.”
Spike slid his arm off the top of the swing to enclose her in the circle of it. Myka had a sudden, giddy vision of Spike leaning down and nipping her neck, showing her how Shifters bit, but he only caressed her shoulder.
“Trackers are top fighters of the clans,” he said. “They’re chosen by the leader, and they stick with that leader forever, and with the next Shifter who ousts that leader. Trackers are inherited.”
“And Liam inherited you?”
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