* * *
Bowman’s cell phone going off dragged him awake before daylight.
He rolled out of bed to grab the phone from the pocket of his jeans, his body protesting. Only a little of his soreness was residual from his injured leg—frantic sex with his mate always took its toll.
Bowman was highly aware of Kenzie sitting up in the dark behind him, the sheet hugging her breasts. Her eroticism was like a stinging slap. He could never ignore her.
Nor could he ignore the insistent phone. Shifters didn’t have access to the scores of ringtones humans did, so it gave a shrill, tinny brr-brr. Bowman had noticed, as he noticed everything, that humans, given the huge selection of sounds their phones could make, stuck overall with the same few.
Caller ID told him the number calling was private, but no one would call a Shiftertown leader at four thirty on an icy morning if it weren’t important.
“What?” he asked in a rasping whisper, not wanting to wake Ryan in the next room.
“In the woods near the burn site,” came a muffled voice, pitched to hide the caller’s gender. “Come now. It’s important.”
“Why the fuck should I?”
“You need to.” The caller sounded anxious, and now Bowman knew she was female. “I don’t like what he’s doing. I thought he was right, but now—this is bad. I need to show you, or you’ll never believe me.”
Behind him, Bowman heard Kenzie’s phone give the faint buzz that said she had a text. Kenzie leaned to the nightstand to grab it, stretching the sheet over the curve of her hips.
“Who is this?” Bowman demanded.
“I’m—” The woman broke off with a gasp. “Oh, shit! I have to—” And the phone went dead.
Bowman slammed his finger onto his recent calls list, but it didn’t give him any more information than before. Private caller.
He threw down the phone to find Kenzie texting, her thumbs moving rapidly. Bowman could never get the hang of texts. Either talk to me or go the hell away was his motto.
Kenzie finished her message, waited a moment, then read the return message when her phone buzzed again. She typed two letters with her thumbs and hit the send key hard.
“Cristian?” Bowman asked.
“Yes.” Kenzie looked up from scowling at the message. “How did you know?”
“I can almost smell him through the phone. And no one else can piss you off as much with a text message.”
“You could,” Kenzie said darkly.
“I don’t text. What did he want?”
For answer, Kenzie showed him the phone. Cristian had first written, I found out something about that Serena. Come to me and speak.
Kenzie had written, Just tell me.
The reply: She has passed on information about Shifters that I fear has endangered us. You need to come. Meet me in the woods near where the monster died.
Kenzie’s NO blazed in response.
Bowman nodded, indicating he was finished reading. The fact that Cristian had written in English meant he fully expected Kenzie to share the message with Bowman and wanted nothing to be lost in translation.
“We have to go out there,” Bowman said. As Kenzie opened her mouth to protest, he said, “My call was from Serena, I’m pretty sure.”
Kenzie looked at her message again. “Crap, you mean Uncle Cris is hunting her out there?”
“Something’s going on. I need to find out.”
Kenzie scrambled out of bed, beautiful and naked. The streetlight outside touched her breasts with a misty glow, and Bowman wished he could forget all about human pseudo-groupies, strange mythical monsters, and her pain-in-the-ass Uncle Cristian and take her back to bed.
Kenzie leaned over to retrieve her clothes, not cooling his distracted body. “I’ll call my grandmother to come watch Ryan. I hate to wake him.”
“He’s already awake and you know it,” Bowman said, watching her cover her beauty with drawstring sweatpants, a thin camisole and a sweatshirt. Clothes easy to remove for shifting. “But yeah, call her. If Cristian’s out rampaging, Afina will be up and worrying anyway.”
Kenzie settled her sweatshirt, shutting him out of her body again. Bowman realized he was holding his jeans in nerveless fingers while he stared at his mate.
She gave him a what-are-you-doing? look as she pushed past him, her phone already in her hand. Bowman hurriedly finished dressing and ran out to catch up to her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The drive back to the arena was dark and cold. Bowman rode his motorcycle, happy to be able to again, his back warmed by Kenzie clinging on behind.