CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Misty had asked, “Do you want me to go?”
Offering, knowing Graham had been trying to push her away, out of his problems. Except Misty kept landing right in his problems again.
“Stay,” Graham had said into her hair, and he’d carried her upstairs.
Graham’s bedroom was the neatest in the house. Dougal’s room was a disaster area, Graham always surprised his nephew could find his own bed. Many times Dougal didn’t, sleeping on the floor as wolf. The twins were snuggled down together in a spare bedroom, which Graham supposed was theirs now.
Graham lay Misty in his own bed and covered her nakedness with blankets. She gave him a sleepy smile, one a little bit smug. She’d gotten Graham to let down his guard.
Wasn’t that hard, sweetheart.
Graham debated whether to join her. He’d want to touch her again if he did, wrap up in her, have sex with her. Mate with her.
Then he’d have to keep himself awake somehow, or he’d slide back into the dreams with the Fae. He had the feeling that the more encounters he had with Oison in his dreams, the more hold the Fae would have over him.
Graham adjusted the light blanket over Misty, the ceiling fan and blow of air-conditioning making the room cool. Out the window, he saw the sweep of Shiftertown, the darkness that was desert and mountains beyond, the moon, even fuller than last night, and six Shifters waiting for his attention at the edge of his front yard.
They were all Lupines, five male and one female—three clan leaders and three seconds. One of the leaders was from a clan from Graham’s Elko Shiftertown; the other two had been living here under Eric.
Graham growled in his throat, left Misty, who’d drifted off to sleep, grabbed a fresh pair of sweatpants and T-shirt, and went downstairs and outside.
The Lupines hadn’t moved into the yard—this was Graham’s territory, and they wouldn’t approach without invitation. They’d stand at the edge of the sidewalk instead, willing him out by sheer force of glare.
The leader of the Elko clan took one step forward. He’d probably lost the coin toss as to who got to address Graham and risk being attacked without mercy.
Graham stopped in the middle of his yard, remaining firmly on his territory and not inviting them in. “What the hell is this?”
“Are you going to mate with the human?” the Elko clan leader, Norval, said. He inhaled, the hot Nevada wind easily carrying to him Graham’s scent and everything he’d done with Misty. “We saw you.”
Graham folded his arms. “Can’t a Shifter get sucked off in his own kitchen without his neighbors having a meeting about it? It’s my business who I mate with.”
“A Lupine, you said,” Norval went on. He’d gone white about the mouth, and Graham smelled his fear, but Norval was angry enough to stand and not run away. “You got us down here with the promise that you’d take a Lupine mate from my clan or the Las Vegas ones. I can barely hold my clan together, McNeil. They’re ready to shove you out of power unless you start your dynasty.”
“I got you down here any way I could, because the humans were forcing us to leave,” Graham said. “If I didn’t agree that all my shithead Lupines would get on the buses and haul their asses to this Shiftertown, the humans were going to round us up and kill us all. Humanely, they said. Only humans could name a kind of killing after themselves. Notice they only apply it to animals.”
During the speech, the others moved uneasily. The sole woman, the second to one of the Las Vegas Lupine clan leaders, was the only one who kept still, her gaze on Graham. Females tended to be braver than males.
“You need to choose,” the woman said.
“I won’t choose you, Muriel,” Graham said. “You’re a total bitch.”
He kept his tone and stance casual, as though his clan leaders ganging up on him meant nothing to him. Inside, Graham’s heart was pounding, his mouth dry with the incessant thirst, his body heat high from the near-sex he’d had with Misty. He was drowning in feelings for her, mixed with annoyance at his Shifters and fear of what the Fae was doing to him.
“I wouldn’t touch you, Graham,” Muriel returned. “I’m already in a mate agreement.”
With another poor Lupine in Graham’s clan. An agreement they called it. She’d made the Lupine do that instead of outright mate-claim her, because Muriel wanted to keep her options open, in case she got a better offer.
“There are four unmated Lupine females among our three clans,” Norval said. “We expect you to choose one before the end of our first year in this Shiftertown. Such was your promise.”
“Things have changed.” Graham had been convinced once upon a time that any dilution of Shifter blood weakened the pack and could drag down an entire clan. But since moving here, he’d found his old ideas rearranging themselves. He’d met Iona, the half-human, half-Shifter woman Eric had mated with. He’d bet Iona could wipe up all six of these Lupines and have energy left over to take on Graham. Graham didn’t bring this up, because all Shifters had agreed not to talk about Iona’s half Shifterness. But they knew.
“You need to decide,” Norval said. “The clan leaders aren’t going to wait forever.”
Graham walked to Norval, stepping from grass to sidewalk, effectively leaving his territory to face Norval and the others on neutral ground. He didn’t need territory advantage to intimidate.
“That’s right,” Graham said. “I decide. And if I decide a human mate is the best thing for me and my clan, then you’ll have to live with it.”
“Or we challenge your leadership,” Norval said.
“Or you challenge my leadership.” Graham gave him a nod. Challenging a leader who endangered Shifters was every Shifter’s right. “But you’d better be prepared to win. And Goddess knows what Eric would say about it if you did win. You know what an interfering a*shole he is.”
He heard growls from the Las Vegas Lupines, anger at Graham for talking about Eric like that. They liked Eric leading them, Goddess help them. Lupines giving themselves over to Felines. What’s the world coming to?
“Tell you what,” Graham said. “You all go home and decide among yourselves which clan you think should be dominant. Because if I pick a female from one of your clans, you know that clan will increase in power. I hope you’re all cool with that. Once you figure out which of you should outrank the other, come back and present your females. Then I’ll give you my final answer.”
The leaders didn’t look at each other, but Graham saw them move a little bit apart from each other. Subtly.
That should shut them up for a while. They’d been so focused on forcing Graham to make a decision—or refuse to, giving them the incentive they needed to try for a leadership grab—that they hadn’t thought about the fact that Graham’s mate would increase dominance of her clan.
It was all stupid anyway, because the humans didn’t like Shifters changing leadership. The humans thought they assigned leadership; they’d barely accepted Graham to stay leader of his Shifters. Eric and Graham had talked long and hard to convince them that Graham was best at keeping the Elko Shifters under control. The humans wanted the Shifters to live quietly and not cause trouble, so they’d agreed.
Shifters knew who led and who didn’t, regardless of what humans thought, but they sometimes had to be covert about it.
“Go chew on that,” Graham said. “And stop looking in my windows.”
“You have to take a mate sooner or later,” Norval said. “You know that.”
Norval delivered his declaration with a sharp nod of his head, then he walked away, carefully not turning his back in Graham’s direction. His second drifted after him.
The Las Vegas leaders walked away too, only Muriel giving Graham any kind of deferential farewell.
Graham knew Norval was right. If Graham’s son had survived—he’d be full-grown and powerful by now—then his Shifters wouldn’t give him so much grief about his mate. Eric’s choice of half-human, half-Shifter Iona hadn’t caused a murmur, because Eric had Jace, a strong son, plus his sister Cassidy was very dominant.
Graham had no one. Only Dougal, his out-of-control nephew. The few other members of his clan were distant relations, and several were equal in dominance with each other—no clear path to clan leadership. If Graham dropped dead, there would be a battle. The only way to prevent it was to take a strong Shifter mate and start putting out cubs. The more cubs the better.
Graham waited until the Lupines had faded into the darkness, their scents growing fainter. Only when he knew they were truly gone did he return to the house, wanting Misty.
He glanced up at the house and saw two small wolf faces peering down at him from the spare bedroom window. Little shits. They were supposed to be asleep.
But they watched him all the way in, and he knew they’d heard every word. When he opened the door of their bedroom upstairs, Kyle and Matt were curled up on the bed again, head to head, tail to tail, pretending to snore.
? ? ?
Misty woke to early-morning sunshine pouring through the window, a stiffness in her body, and strange satisfaction. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was, then she saw she still lay in Graham’s bed.
Of Graham, there was no sign. The bed bore only Misty’s imprint and rumpled covers. Graham must have slept elsewhere.
Misty climbed out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was completely naked and had no idea where her clothes were. Still downstairs in the kitchen?
No, they’d been hung over the back of a wooden chair near Graham’s bedroom door. Well, dropped haphazardly over the wooden chair. Graham wasn’t the kind of man who sent out his lady’s clothes to be cleaned and pressed then greeted her with breakfast in bed, including a rosebud in a vase.
Graham was himself. Misty had the feeling that, to him, romance was a word in an ancient, lost language.
The bathroom was clean though. New and nice. Misty showered, using plain bar soap and generic shampoo. No frills for the McNeils.
She dressed and went downstairs, hoping she could find utensils and ingredients for breakfast. The kitchen was as she’d left it, no change. The cubs weren’t here or frolicking in the yard. They weren’t in the house at all—they hadn’t been in bed, and no way were they in here and not making noise. No one was in the house but Misty.
No sign of Graham, cubs, or Dougal in the backyard or in the front. They’d left, going who-knew-where, without bothering to leave so much as a note.
Not Misty’s business, right? She should walk out, get into her borrowed car, and drive back home.
Disappearing without saying good-bye, though, especially after what she and Graham had done last night, felt wrong. She wanted to see Graham, to kiss him good morning, to see his smile and hear his rough-voiced teasing.
Matt and Kyle had confessed they’d gone to a basement of an unfinished house, and from there had somehow made it to Misty’s store. Had someone snatched them, drugged them, carried them off? And why dump them in a car outside Misty’s shop?
It was six o’clock, but the sun was up, the temperature already climbing. In the summer, desert dwellers did anything outdoorsy early, and then stayed inside with the AC for the hot afternoon. If Graham wanted to explore the scene of the crime in daylight, he’d have done it now.
Not her business, Misty repeated silently.
Oh, screw it. Misty wanted to know whatever it was they found. She cared about the cubs too, no denying it. She cared about Dougal and Graham, and her Shifter friends. Misty was in this now, no going back, no matter how much she and Graham danced back and forth on their relationship.
Misty put on her sandals and walked outside through the kitchen door. A step led down into a backyard with a patch of grass and a path connecting it to a common area between the houses.
Unlike many of the neighborhoods in Las Vegas, a block wall did not surround every yard in Shiftertown. Graham had told her Shifters didn’t need walls. Each Shifter knew where his territory ended and another Shifter’s began. If humans had as good a sense of smell as Shifters did, he said, they wouldn’t need walls either.
Misty stepped into the common area and headed toward the first unfinished house she saw down the way. Two seconds later, a woman was in front of her, one tall and gray-eyed, her dark hair a bit shaggy. A Lupine, Misty guessed.
She eyed Misty coldly, and Misty stopped.
“Stay away from Graham,” the woman said.
Misty hid a sigh. Facing jealous females was not something she liked to do. It always made her feel twelve years old, confronting a mean girl in the school cafeteria.
“That’s for me and Graham to decide,” Misty said.
“No, it isn’t.” The Lupine woman came close, invading Misty’s personal space. Shifters did that when they decided they were dominant to you. Graham did it all the time. “Graham mates for the good of his clan, for Shiftertown,” the woman said. “You’re not good for us. So go away.”
“He isn’t mating with me.”
The woman inhaled, her eyes narrowing. Misty knew she’d washed thoroughly with the deodorant soap, but Shifters had phenomenal senses of smell. They could strip scent down into layers and time, like archeologists uncovering civilizations.
“You reek of sex and his seed. Don’t lie with him again. A by-blow will help no one. Might even hurt you.”
Misty had also learned that when faced with a mean girl, she should look said girl straight in the eye and not back down. Sometimes this had led to Misty getting beaten up, but she’d always fought back with gusto, which had earned her a little respect.
“I’m not sure I like that you know what Graham’s seed smells like,” Misty said. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s Graham’s business, and mine. Not yours.”
“That’s what you think, bitch.”
So some of the mean girls in the cafeteria had said. But those girls hadn’t had Shifter strength, or the huge, clawed hands that now came at Misty’s face.
Misty ducked, shielding herself with her arms, hoping she could fend off the woman and not die. But the blow never came. Misty peeked out from under her arm, and found Dougal shoving the woman backward, his face half shifted to wolf, his claws extended, his voice guttural.
“Don’t touch her.”
“Stay out of this, cub,” the woman snarled.
“Not cub. Not anymore. She’s Graham’s. You touch her, you answer to him.”
The woman had stopped, also half changed to wolf. Her growl was furious, but Misty saw her realize that Dougal had a point. Graham never bothered with calm negotiation when he was angry.
“Tell Graham she’s got to go,” the woman said, her voice harsh. “If the other Lupines decide to take her out, there’s nothing he can do.”
Take her out? Not something Misty wanted to hear.
With a final sneer, the Lupine woman receded to human form and jogged away. Dougal, also back to his human shape, returned to Misty.
“You all right?”
“Yes.” Misty dragged in a breath. “Thank you.”
“Tell Uncle Graham I saved your ass, all right?” Dougal said. “He thinks I’m a complete wuss. If you’re looking for him, follow me. I know where he is.”