CHAPTER FIVE
This is what I get for tangling with a human.
Graham repeated this to himself all the way back to Shiftertown. He and Dougal were now riding inside the cushy cab of Diego’s truck, in the backseat, the air conditioning on too high for Graham’s taste. But Graham wanted to ride inside because Dougal still needed Graham’s reassuring hugs, and Graham didn’t want the dumb-ass human police seeing Dougal basically on Graham’s lap, and pulling them over. Dougal wouldn’t last against human police right now—he might do or say something stupid and get them all arrested.
In fact, humans were pains in the ass all the way around. Graham would keep that fact to himself while Diego, a human, was driving them home. Plus Diego had found Graham a clean T-shirt, black with a tiny DX Security logo on it.
But for the most part, humans weren’t worth the time. Misty was a distraction for him, and Graham didn’t need distractions right now.
Her scent, that was most distracting of all. A scent Graham could wrap around himself until everything bad went away. Misty’s smile was pretty good too. He remembered when he’d first seen her in the bar—she’d given him that sweet smile and asked if he was Shifter.
The smile had been completely absent this afternoon when Misty had said, I’m done, and closed the door on him. The finality of it bore into Graham’s heart.
Like he needed a human in his life. Graham’s day had been hell since he’d woken up. First the Lupine woman had attacked him in his own house, sent to try to get Graham to mate with her. Then Misty’s scared voice on the phone. In the seconds he’d heard her, he’d known that nothing else mattered but finding Misty and making sure she was all right.
She hadn’t been all right. He’d had to fight for her, which had led to him getting shot. Then he’d slowly baked in the sun until Misty made him drink water a Fae had given her.
Graham knew the “hiker” Misty had stumbled upon had been Fae. Reid agreed. The cave she’d described, which had mysteriously disappeared, screamed of Fae. They must have been on a ley line out there in the desert, one of the lines of magic that crisscrossed the world. Stone circles were found on them as well as other mystical places—Fae loved ley lines.
Graham remembered how the gang leader had smirked and said he only needed one Shifter. One Shifter for what? To give to the Fae lurking nearby? For what?
No wonder the human had been stupid enough to give Graham directions to his location instead of setting up a dead drop. The human had planned to give him to the Fae. Why, Graham had no idea.
Didn’t matter though, did it? Graham had drunk the effing water. It had cured his gunshot wound almost instantly, but Fae cures came with a price. Whatever else the water had done to him, he wasn’t sure yet.
He’d planned to talk it over with Misty when they got to Shiftertown, where he’d explain everything to her. Diego, the traitor, had taken her home instead. F*cking humans.
I need her.
Graham banished the voice inside his head. He didn’t need Misty. He needed to take a Lupine mate, and soon. Dougal wasn’t a natural leader, and his wolves were getting restless because Graham had no other heir. He had to establish his dynasty, have strong cubs of his own who’d protect Dougal as family.
Plus, he needed to keep the wolves he’d brought to this Shiftertown under his control. The human government, trying to consolidate and save money, had closed the Shiftertown in Elko last year and shunted all Graham’s Shifters here, expecting Graham and Eric, two powerful alphas, to decide who would lead. The humans had created a powder keg begging to explode. Some of Graham’s Shifters were near to feral, having lived close to the wild for so long.
The few Lupines participating in the experiment to take off Collars were getting too big for their britches, like the female this morning. Collars didn’t make or unmake dominance. The idiots needed to learn that. Collars just shocked you. Graham had decided to keep his Collar to prove no one would be able to best him despite the torture device around his neck.
No, he thought, as the pickup turned onto the streets of Shiftertown, I don’t need a human woman in my life to screw me up right now.
I’m done, Misty had said.
Why did those words echo over and over inside his head?
Diego pulled the truck into the driveway of Eric’s house. Eric Warden sat on a bench on his low-roofed porch, his bare feet up on the thick wooden railing. He didn’t bother to rise when the truck pulled up, only turned his head to watch them stop and get out.
Eric was like that, acting all laid-back and too lazy to do anything. The truth was, he was the dominant Feline—the dominant Shifter—of Shiftertown, and he could switch from laid-back kitty cat to killing machine in a heartbeat.
His mate, Iona, came out of the house with a little more animation. Iona was a sassy sweetheart, even more so now that she was pregnant and about to drop her first cub. Her wildcat was mostly panther—which, everyone had explained to Graham, was a rare, black form of leopard. Explained why she and Eric, a snow leopard, got along so well. The pair of them could be scary as hell when they wanted to be, but mostly they sat around looking pleased with themselves. Felines.
Iona started to ask, “What exactly happened?” as Graham lifted his bike out of the back of Diego’s truck, but Graham cut over her words.
“We need to contain those humans, Warden. They hurt Misty, and I’m not letting them get away with that.”
Another human came out of the house—Paul, Misty’s younger brother. He had dark brown eyes, like Misty’s, and he was rawboned and lanky, like Dougal. He’d shaved off his hair during his time in prison, but he looked too young for the buzz. For a human, he was full-grown, twenty-three or something like that, but still he looked very young.
He’d been in prison for the last five years, serving a sentence for riding in the back of a stolen car when it had gotten into a wreck that killed other humans. Paul’s lawyer had finally gotten him parole six months ago. Graham had been partly responsible for his parole—he’d growled at Eric and Diego until the two had used their influence in the law enforcement system around here to get the kid released.
“Is she all right?” Paul asked anxiously. “Where is she?”
“Home,” Graham said. “She needed a break, all right?”
Eyes focused on Graham. Two pairs of Feline eyes, Lupine ones from Dougal, the human eyes of Paul and Diego, and the weird, black-hole eyes of Stuart Reid.
Graham had seen a glimmer of pure rage in Reid’s dark eyes when Graham had told him about the Fae. Reid hated Fae—he called them hoch alfar—hated them more than Shifters did . . . Nah, that wasn’t possible.
“She’s fine,” Graham said into the silence. “Xavier is looking out for her. But we have to cut it off at the source. If we get the leader, the rest will go down easy.”
“Already being taken care of,” Eric said mildly. “Diego?”
“DX Security tracked down Sam Flores and his gang nursing themselves at their safe house. Looks like you and Dougal ripped them up pretty good. I dutifully reported Flores’s criminal activity to the police. I know guys on the force who were happy to shovel Sam Flores and his boys back into prison. They broke their parole, so they’re history. My friends found Dougal’s motorcycle and are returning it to the DX Security offices as we speak.”
Graham had meant something more permanent for Flores, like quietly breaking his neck and burying him somewhere no one would find him. That’s what Flores had intended to do to Misty and Paul, and Graham saw no reason to be lenient.
But human justice was different from Shifter justice. Graham knew he had to let Diego take care of it, much as it chafed him. Diego had been a very good cop, with awards and everything, and the humans respected him, even after he’d mated with a Shifter.
Diego’s Shifter mate came out of the house now, carrying their eight-month-old cub, Amanda. Attention left Graham and turned to the baby, who looked fearlessly out at the world from the safety of her mother’s arms. She had Diego’s dark hair but Cassidy’s Feline green eyes. Diego had been surprised by the green eyes, but genetics worked a little differently for Shifters. Amanda would be Feline, like Cassidy, but because she was half human, she’d not change into her Feline form for a few years yet.
Cassidy smiled at Diego, her love for her human obvious. Diego had gone through a Fae magic ritual that would extend his lifespan to be close to what Cassidy’s natural one would be. Graham had always wondered why the Fae had agreed, centuries ago, to perform this service for Shifters who took human mates, but he’d never bothered to track down a Fae and ask him. Graham stayed as far away from anything Fae as he possibly could.
Which brought him back around to the current problem. The shot he’d taken was a flea bite compared with what the Fae had potentially done to him.
And no one could know. Graham had told Reid, but Reid could keep his mouth shut. If any hint got out among the Shifters that Graham might be Fae-touched, he’d be finished. His wilder Lupines might try to kill him and take over his power. Eric would try to stop them, and then there’d be a battle to the death, a bloodbath the Collars couldn’t slow. Eric would win in the end, but a lot of good Shifters could die, including cubs.
This was turning out to be one hell of a day.
“I’m going home,” Graham said. “Call me if you need help taking out the humans.”
“Thanks, Graham,” Paul said after him. “For helping her.”
Graham made an indifferent wave. “Whatever.” He and Dougal, who still didn’t want to move more than a step away from Graham, went home, wheeling Graham’s broken bike between them.
? ? ?
Graham lived in the new section of Shiftertown, where houses were still under construction. Graham’s house and about six others were completely done, the others nearing completion.
Because Graham was a leader, he’d insisted on his house being bigger than the others. Eric might play I’m-the-same-as-you with his Shifters, but Graham decided to never let others forget his position. A Shifter played with fire if he did.
The newer houses were more modern looking than the ones on Eric’s street, with stucco and tile, and lots of windows. Graham’s house had a second floor. The older portion of Shiftertown had been built in the 1960s, when people kept out the heat with small windows set high under the eaves, thick outer walls, and flat, white roofs. Graham had insisted on more modern insulation and double-paned windows, and Iona, who owned the construction company that built the houses, had agreed.
All the new houses had air-conditioning that worked, so Graham walked into a cool haven. He shut the door behind him and Dougal and let out a sigh of relief.
Dougal was still stressed. Graham could scent it on the lad, sweat mixed with panic and exhaustion.
Graham turned to his nephew, who was starting to curl in on himself, straightened him up, and pulled him into another hard hug. Graham had been doing this for thirty years, he realized—holding Dougal while he grew up.
“You did good out there.” Graham patted Dougal’s back and tightened the hug. “You knew exactly what to do, and you brought help in time. We made it, and we’re home, and whole.”
Dougal nodded against Graham’s shoulder. He stayed dormant in Graham’s embrace for a time, then he took a deep breath, his strength returning. Shifter hugs were more than just comfort; they were healing.
“Better?” Graham asked, releasing him.
Dougal wiped his eyes as he turned away. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. I have things to do, Shifters to see. Call me if you need me again.”
Dougal walked to the front door, the swagger returning to his step. Graham hid his chuckle until Dougal had breezed out of the house, slamming the door behind him. He’d be all right.
Graham’s laughter died as he made his way to the kitchen, thirst kicking him. He’d known the water was foul as soon as he’d smelled it, but his thirst had won over his common sense. And now he was thirsty again. He clenched his fists. If he gave in to a Fae curse, he might as well summon the Guardian and fall on the sword.
Misty hadn’t seemed affected by the spelled water. Graham had looked into her face and hadn’t seen anything but her clear, brown eyes, framed with thick, dark lashes. Lashes he’d love to feel fluttering over his skin.
Don’t call me again, she’d said.
She hadn’t meant that, right? So hard to tell with humans. Misty had gone through trauma today, been threatened, terrorized, and hurt, poor thing. When she felt better, she’d call Graham and ask if they could talk. Misty liked to talk. On the phone, in person, over e-mail. Graham had never talked much with his other females, but then, his previous relationships had been all sex and not much else.
Even with his mate, Rita, they’d spent most of the time in bed. They’d never really talked. Graham had never taken the opportunity to truly get to know Rita, and then she’d been gone, dead, the Guardian turning her to dust. Her death and his baby son’s had left him stunned, barely able to think beyond his grief.
Brooding about Rita and Misty wasn’t going to help Graham with his problems now. A Shifter had to push away grief and relationship worries and concentrate on immediate problems. That was the only way to survive. Right?
Graham walked into his kitchen, deep in thought . . . and stopped. Something was very wrong. He’d left the place trashed, yes, with his stupid fight with that Lupine, but not this trashed.
Someone had opened every single door of every single cabinet, and had yanked out every single drawer. Graham’s pots, pans, and dishes, and cans and boxes of food were all over the floor, porcelain smashed, glasses broken, boxes opened, powder and grains spewed everywhere. The refrigerator door was ajar, and bottles and cans had burst open on the floor outside it, rendering the tiles a mess of ketchup, mustard, pickles, and beer. The refrigerator was shaking now too, as though it had taken on a life of its own.
No Fae spell was doing this. Graham roared as he yanked open the door.
Two fuzzy faces turned toward him, two pairs of eyes widened under two pairs of ears that managed to be pricked and flopping at the same time. Two little muzzles opened in identical, high-pitched howls, and two tails started moving rapidly, dumping over a half gallon of milk between them.
“What the hell are you doing in there?” Graham bellowed.
Matt and Kyle, the three-year-old wolves, yipped with joy, and launched themselves out of the refrigerator. They had a frenzied fight over who would reach Graham first, Kyle winning by a whisker. Both cubs scrambled up Graham’s legs to his bare arms, wriggling with joy as though they hadn’t seen him in weeks instead of about twenty-four hours.
Graham’s back door opened, and a Shifter woman came in—Brenda Roberts, the cubs’ foster mother. She ducked her head, as all Graham’s wolves did when they faced their alpha, but her eyes held defiance.
“I can’t do it anymore, Graham,” she said. “I can’t take care of them. I have my own cubs to look after, and I. Just. Can’t. Do. It.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Graham asked, something like panic rising. “You’re taking care of them fine.”
Brenda shook her head and kept on shaking it. “No I’m not. I’m not sleeping, or eating, or doing anything but running around after those two little shits. I can’t even go to the bathroom without them coming in and tearing down the shower curtain and eating the toilet paper. They need a firm hand, Graham, and mine’s not firm enough.”
“I don’t have time for this,” Graham said loudly. Kyle and Matt clung to him, small claws digging into his arms. “If you don’t want to take care of them, fine. But they stay with you until I can find another foster.”
Brenda was already shaking her head again. “I can’t. When they had space to run around up in Elko, they were fine. Sort of. Now that they’re more restricted, they’re going insane and taking me with them. I’ve gone through eight months of hell, and I can’t do it anymore. Punish me if you want to, but I’m not keeping those cubs another day.”
Brenda still wouldn’t look at Graham directly, but she had determination on her face. Lower dominance wolves never disobeyed their alpha—unless driven beyond normal endurance into something that would break them. Brenda had stood strong behind Graham and given a lot to the Lupines. And now this loyal wolf was being defeated by two adorable cubs who looked up at Graham with innocent eyes.
Graham could shove the cubs back at her and tell her to suck it up; he had that right. She could obey, or she could die.
But Graham wasn’t leader because he was the loudest-voiced a*shole in the pack, no matter what anyone else thought. He’d seen how worn down Brenda was, and it was true—she had four cubs of her own. She’d taken Kyle and Matt because of her soft heart, and Graham knew he’d taken advantage of her. So had Matt and Kyle.
“All right, all right,” Graham said. “Just go.”
Brenda’s shoulders slumped in relief. She wouldn’t have left the house without Graham giving her permission—not like Misty—no matter how much staying was upsetting her.
Brenda gave him a grateful look then turned around and marched out the door, the draft of its closing rushing over Graham and the cubs.
“Shit.”
Graham grabbed both cubs by their scruffs and held them up, facing him. “What am I going to do with you two?”
Kyle and Matt squirmed in joy and wagged their tails.
“Shit,” he repeated, softly this time. Raising Dougal had been the hardest thing Graham had ever done—he was still doing it. No way could he go through that again. “Tell you what; we’ll go visit a nice Shifter lady whose cubs had to have been worse even than you two.”
Fine with Matt and Kyle. Graham left the disaster of his kitchen and went out of the house again. He marched back through Shiftertown, the two wolf cubs on his shoulders clinging so tightly they ripped into the black shirt Diego had given him, cutting into Graham’s skin underneath.