“Is that why you dress up?” Bowman asked her, letting his voice soften to teasing. She was easily played, this woman, and maybe she could be of use. He’d learned long ago how to quickly classify humans and Shifters into either being useful or dangerous—the hazard of inheriting clan leadership at a young age. “You dress up because you want to know how to heal Shifters?”
“It’s fun,” Pat said, meeting his gaze, her cheeks still pink. “That roadhouse you go to—the crowd isn’t really my scene, but if I dress up like the other girls, I get to watch Shifters. You and your friends think I’m just one of the groupies and don’t pay attention to me. I can stand by and observe, which is what I like to do.”
Bowman cocked a brow. “You know a lot of the groupies go there hoping for sex with a Shifter. What if one of mine took you up on it?”
She looked suddenly shy, shooting another look at the listening Ryan. Bowman had no problem discussing sex in front of his son—Ryan already knew Shifters enjoyed healthy sex lives. Ryan had no interest in it himself, wouldn’t until his Transition, but Shifters didn’t shield their cubs from knowledge of sex. Sex was natural—how else would they make more cubs?
“It might not be such a bad thing,” Dr. Pat said, flushing. She was a woman who couldn’t help being honest, Bowman deduced.
He laughed. A genuine laugh, which was something he hadn’t felt like doing in a long time. “Tell you what, Dr. Pat, when I’m better, I’ll introduce you to some Shifters. They like to talk about themselves, so you’ll learn a lot. Maybe more than you want to know.”
And Bowman’s Shifters knew better than to impart anything humans couldn’t already find out on their own. They’d feed Dr. Pat a lot of bullshit, and Shifter secrets would stay Shifter secrets.
Dr. Pat looked grateful. “I’d like that. Now, would you mind if I had a peek at your leg? As a doctor, of course. I’m very interested in seeing how it’s doing.”
* * *
When Kenzie returned, she knew instantly that someone else was in her house. She caught a whiff of scent as soon as she walked in the front door. Bowman’s and Ryan’s scents were the most predominant, as well as her own, but woven in with theirs was something female and clinical.
She recognized the scent a heartbeat later—the vet who’d set Bowman’s leg last night.
Sounds came next: a woman’s laughter and Bowman’s rumbling baritone. Kenzie strode down the short hall and slapped open the door to the bedroom she shared with her mate.
Bowman lay propped up on the bed’s pillows, covers over his hips, his hair still a mess. Ryan sat cross-legged on the chair, watching in silence. The vet was sitting at the end of the bed, Bowman’s bare leg in her lap, her hand on Bowman’s calf.
A sheen of red rose before Kenzie’s eyes, and a snarl clogged in her throat.
Bowman looked leisurely up at her—he’d have known the moment she walked into the house. His gaze was unworried, and he was completely relaxed, hands resting calmly on the sheets. He was conveying to Kenzie that there was nothing at all in this room to worry about, but Kenzie’s Shifter instincts roared to life.
Mine. Her hands started to sprout claws, and her skin prickled, fur wanting to come out.
The vet looked up. “Hey,” she said in a friendly tone. “You’re Kenzie, right? I just popped by to make sure Bowman was doing all right.”
Kenzie couldn’t speak. If she did, whatever came out would be unintelligible, or possibly an all-out wolf howl as she went for the kill.
Bowman knew it. He pinned her with his cool stare, the one he used when he planned to make the world obey. Even Kenzie had to stop in her tracks when he wore that look.
His eyes changed from warm gray to cold, his face so still it might be carved from granite. The damaged leg and the woman petting it didn’t exist for him. His world narrowed to Kenzie, his gaze commanding her not to gut the nice vet with the blond hair.
Ryan tensed, sensing the silent battle between his parents. Kenzie saw Ryan shiver, the tiny cub inside him wondering whether he’d have only one parent when the confrontation was over. Which one would it be, and what would he do?
Kenzie’s maternal instinct slammed against the mate’s instinct, and the mother won. “Ryan,” she said, surprised her voice sounded almost normal. “Will you come outside and help me with something?”
She held out her hand. Ryan flashed a glance at Bowman, who gave him the barest nod.
Ryan slid off the chair with the energy of youth and walked to Kenzie. Walked, she noted. A few years ago, he would have darted to her side. Now Ryan wanted to show more self-reliance. Her heart squeezed.
The touch of Ryan’s hand in hers calmed her. Ryan must have realized that, so he didn’t try to pull away after a brief clasp. Instead, he locked his hand around Kenzie’s and walked her out of the room. Who was helping whom, Kenzie couldn’t say.
She and Ryan went out into the backyard, where Kenzie dragged in a long breath. Ryan carefully let go of her hand, watching her as though to see whether she’d stay here, calming herself, or run back inside and rip out the vet’s throat.