Ember

by Ophelia Sexton

  Her mouth is probably really soft and tastes as sweet and juicy as a ripe nectarine, he thought. And the rest of her, too.

  And that throaty voice of her would sound just perfect moaning his name...

  Stop that, he ordered himself. She's probably going to want to kill you—or at least toss you outta here on your ass—as soon as he finds out who you really are.

  At some point, she'd get a look at his credit card and see his last name. But he hoped he could put off that moment until tomorrow morning, preferably until after he'd had a shower and coffee.

  Margaret didn't ask the questions that Daniel was expecting until they had finished the lasagna and were munching on the cookies, which were crisp and buttery and a thousand times better than store-bought.

  "So," she began delicately. "You're traveling with your nephew?"

  Behind her question lay another unspoken query. Where are Chris's parents?

  This wasn't the first time that people had wondered why Chris lived with his uncle rather than his parents.

  Before Daniel could answer, Chris spoke up.

  "My dad's in prison," he said, simply. "And my mom's an Ordinary. She left me with Uncle Dan when she found out I could shift."

  He sounds so okay with it...now. You'd never guess how much pain and how many bedtime tears lie behind those words, Daniel thought, pushing down the familiar surge of anger whenever he remembered Chris's mother just walking out of his life.

  Margaret's expression turned sympathetic. She reached over to put her hand gently on Chris's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Chris. Bad things happen sometimes when Ordinaries find out about us. But I wish it had gone differently for you."

  She sighed and sat back. Daniel admired her for being honest yet sympathetic. At least she hadn't tried to BS his nephew like some of the adults in the pride had when they'd heard about Chris's mother abandoning him.

  Chris nodded. "Me, too." Then he shoved another cookie in his mouth as a sign that he was done talking about his mother.

  Daniel added, "I'm Chris's legal guardian. He lives with me, and we do the best we can to get by."

  "Uncle Dan is great," Chris said fiercely. "We go camping and stuff when he's not working. And he's teaching me how to cook. I made Eggs Benedict from scratch last weekend...Hollandaise sauce and poached eggs and everything," he finished proudly.

  Margaret looked impressed. "I love Eggs Benedict, you know," she confided. "Maybe you could show me the trick to poaching eggs. I always seem to end up with egg drop soup when I try it."

  Chris grinned. "The trick is keeping the water from actually boiling. And to add some vinegar before you put in the eggs," he recited.

  Daniel stretched out his good arm and ruffled his nephew's hair. "Everyone should know how to cook and do their own laundry before they leave home," he said to Margaret. "I'm just trying to make sure that Junior here grows up to be a productive member of society. Being able to make a nice dinner is a great dating strategy when he reaches that age."

  Chris wrinkled his nose in reaction, as if the thought of dating somehow smelled bad, and reached for another cookie.

  "So, you're on vacation?" Margaret asked Daniel, arriving at the heart of the matter.

  Daniel knew she must be wondering what the hell they were doing so far from Albuquerque, and why Chris hadn't gone to school today.

  Well, here goes nothing. Daniel knew that he couldn't lie directly to another shifter—there were too many physical "tells" that their kind's enhanced senses could detect. But he could be very careful with the truth.

  Plus, there was his cat's instant liking to Margaret Swanson. At the moment, it wanted Daniel to lay his head in her soft lap and let her stroke those capable-looking hands through his hair until he fell blissfully asleep. That sounds like heaven. I am so damned tired right now.

  Daniel shoved down that tempting mental image. He needed to focus right now.

  "Not exactly," he replied. "Truth is, ma'am—"

  "Margaret," she interrupted him. "Please call me Margaret."

  It was a lovely, old-fashioned name. "Margaret," he repeated, and began again. "Truth is, Chris and I are in a bit of trouble right now, and we were hoping that Justin Long might be able to help us out."

  Daniel saw the moment when she made the connection. "You're sabertooth shifters?"

  He nodded warily, not sure if that information would count for or against him.

  On the one hand, he knew that the Swanson clan had more reason than most to hate sabertooth shifters. On the other hand, the clan matriarch was Justin Long's mate.

  Daniel had never heard of a bear shifter/sabertooth mating before. No one had. Before Justin Long mated Elle Swanson, it had been unthinkable for a Pride First to even consider walking away from his pride, much less join the clan of an entirely different shifter lineage.

  "I'll text Justin right now, and let him know you're here. But he's one of our town's volunteer firefighters, and he's currently attending a refresher course in Coeur d'Alene. He and his mate won't be back until sometime next week."

  "I'm willing to wait as long as it takes, if he's willing to talk to me," Daniel assured her.

  She rose from the table and walked over to the kitchen counter, where her phone was plugged in and charging. She began typing rapidly, then paused. "What was your last name?"

  Daniel tensed. He couldn't lie to her. "Langlais," he said, reluctantly.

  And now the shit's really going to hit the fan. Because if there's one name that the Swansons aren't likely to forget, it's that one.

  It was Daniel's bad luck that Justin Long was unavailable right now, because Margaret Swanson was probably going to kick him and Chris off her property in the next thirty seconds.

  Chapter Seven – Nightmare

  Langlais.

  Margaret felt the impact of that name splash against her like a bucket of icy water.

  It hadn't concerned her much to discover that her oh-so-attractive guest was a sabertooth shifter. Years of acquaintance with her brother-in-law Justin and his charming daughter Cassie had helped to dispel any of the prejudice that Margaret had once held against that shifter lineage.

  But it seemed that Daniel wasn't just any sabertooth shifter. With an unusual last name like Langlais, was it possible that he was related to the sabertooth shifter who had tried to kill her niece-in-law Caitlyn all those years ago?

  Plus, Chris had mentioned that his father was in prison...it can't really be a coincidence, can it?

  "Langlais?" she repeated slowly, just to be sure she'd heard correctly.

  She met Daniel's gaze, and took in his wary expression as he nodded.

  She didn't want to ask, and possibly shatter the connection that she had felt as soon as they met. But she had to. "Any relation to Pete Langlais the police officer?"

  Daniel's expression turned defeated. "Former police officer." He sighed and propped his elbows on the table. "My younger brother. Chris's dad."

  She'd never met Pete Langlais, but she'd seen photos and videos of the man from news coverage of his trial. Now that she really looked at Daniel, she could see a family resemblance in the tall, quiet, silver-haired man sitting at her table.

  Crap! I like him. But if he's really Pete Langlais' brother... Disappointment and anger churned inside her, making her feel queasy. How could my gut feeling about Daniel be so off-base?

  "And did you know that Pete came here to this ranch, and tried to kill my nephew Mark's mate? And when that didn't work, your brother came back with his friends and tried to intimidate my sister and her family by taking Caitlyn's friends hostage."

  It had been over a decade since that incident, and Margaret hadn't witnessed it herself, but it still made her angry to think about how close they'd all come to a real disaster that day. In the end, only a vicious duel between Pete Langlais and his leader, Philippe Bertrand, had stopped the situation from going completely out of control.

  Daniel closed his eyes. His shoulders slumped. To his credit, h
e didn't try to deny or excuse what had happened.

  "Yeah," he said, his voice quiet. "I know about all that, and I'm sorry. It was wrong, and it tore our pride apart. Tore my family apart, too."

  Margaret tried to suppress an instant surge of sympathy for him. "And now you want Justin—want us—to help you?"

  Young Chris blanched at her sharp tone, his freckles springing into high contrast against his suddenly-pale face. He turned and looked at his uncle. "Uncle Dan, are we in trouble?"

  The fear in his voice speared Margaret's heart. No child should ever look and sound that scared. And especially not because of her!

  "No," she said, making an effort to gentle her tone. "Of course not. I'm just trying to figure out what's going on here."

  "We need help," Daniel said, his expression grim.

  Margaret could only imagine what that simple plea had cost him in pride.

  What should I do? Should I really offer to help Pete Langlais' brother and son?

  Her bear stirred within her, and she felt a sudden protective urge. A child needs our protection.

  You're right, she agreed.

  Unaware of her silent decision, Daniel added in his smooth, deep voice tinged with just the faintest hint of a Southern drawl, "I heard that this was a place where sabertooth shifters without a pride were welcome. We didn't have anywhere else to go, and I was hoping that you might be able to overlook my unfortunate last name."

  She fixed her gaze on the bandages around Daniel's left arm. "Were you involved with the attacks on this ranch?"

  Daniel shook his head. "No, ma'am. I wasn't even in the country at the time."

  She could sense he was telling the truth, and felt herself relax slightly. Just one more question before she could yield to her bear's insistence that she help these strangers.

  "Did you come here because you're in trouble with the law back in Albuquerque?"

  "No, ma'am," Daniel said again, and she tried to deny the relief she felt. His next words were less encouraging. "We got caught in the middle of a hostile takeover by some other sabertooth shifters early this morning, and we had to leave town in a hurry."

  Chris added, "Uncle Dan made me hide in the closet and then he fought three bad guys all by himself. They kicked down our front door and then they shot him!" His tone was a mixture of admiration and horror.

  Margaret stared at Daniel in disbelief. He was a shifter, and clearly in good shape, but there was nothing about his quiet demeanor that suggested he was capable of taking on three sabertooth shifters by himself.

  Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head with a self-deprecating twist of his lips. "It wasn't much of a fight. I just barely managed to keep them from finding Chris's hiding place before the cops showed up and kept the other guys from shooting me again."

  Again? As in, more than once?

  "So, that's a gunshot wound?" Margaret's gaze returned to his arm.

  How can he sound so calm about all of this? Three shifters came to kill him, one of them shot him and they apparently wanted to hurt a child, too? What kind of trouble is going to follow him here?

  "One of the officers was a coyote shifter. He had a first aid kit, and he patched me up. I'll be okay." She saw Daniel take a deep breath. It drew her attention back to his muscled chest and shoulders, nicely outlined by his tight t-shirt. "We came here to ask Justin for sanctuary, but since he's not here...if you want us to leave, we will."

  In Elle's absence, Margaret was the acting clan head of the Swanson family, and in charge of the ranch, though her nephew Dane kept everything running smoothly as the ranch manager. It was her duty to keep everyone on this ranch safe, whether they were family members, ranch hands, or guests.

  What am I going to do? I don't want to send him away, but what if someone else gets hurt because I let them stay here?

  Chris looked scared, and his gaze darted between her and his uncle.

  Margaret's bear rose inside her, and made the decision for her.

  * * *

  The last thing Daniel wanted to do right now was get back in his Jeep. Even with a stomach filled with excellent lasagna and homemade cookies, every part of him ached with fatigue and his arm, ribs, and head throbbed relentlessly. He felt like someone was poking him with a set of red-hot pokers in time with his pulse.

  And none of that was half as bad as seeing the disappointment and fear in Chris's expression.

  But they couldn't stay here, not if they weren't welcome.

  Even if the Swansons don't mind sabertooths and other kinds of shifters in their territory, I was stupid to think that anyone named Langlais would be welcome here.

  Daniel gritted his teeth. I'll find a safe place for you, Junior. You're never going to have to hide again or worry about a bunch of thugs coming after you.

  Margaret's eyes went shifter gold and he braced himself for the worst.

  To his astonishment, she said firmly, "Nonsense. Where on earth will you go at this time of night? It's hunting season, and all the hotels around here are all booked up. Plus, I've already accepted the two of you as my guests."

  Daniel wanted to fall at her feet in gratitude. "Won't the rest of your family get mad at you for letting us stay here?"

  She shook her head. "I'm the acting clan head. If I say it's okay, it'll be okay."

  Acting clan head? Daniel knew he was taking a big risk by pushing for more when she'd just agreed to let them stay as guests, but he had to ask. He didn't have a choice.

  I'll get on my knees and beg her, if I have to. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure Junior is safe, Daniel told himself.

  "In that case, I'll ask you for sanctuary instead of Justin," he said, hoping against hope for just one more piece of luck tonight.

  He saw her finely-drawn brows arch in astonishment.

  "It's not for me. It's for Chris. He's just a kid," he added hastily.

  "Do you think the shifters who attacked you are going to chase you all the way up here?" Margaret crossed her arms, which did nice things to her generous breasts.

  Daniel forced his gaze up to her concerned brown eyes.

  "No," he replied, honestly. "But they'll kill him if we try to go home again. My brother is the First of our pride, and Aaron Messerzahn's trying to take over our territory by getting rid of all the pride's leadership. He and his gang want to kill Chris because he's Pete's son."

  "But why come here?" Margaret asked. At least she sounded puzzled rather than hostile. That has to be a hopeful sign, right? "Why not move to a place with other sabertooth shifters?"

  "It's not that easy," Daniel explained. "If we try to settle in another pride's territory without an invitation, they'll make me fight a challenge duel for a place in their hierarchy. I'll either have to kill or be killed." He took a deep breath. "Look, I totally understand if you don't want to get involved. But Chris is a great kid. He deserves to have a safe place to grow up."

  "You really think that this Aaron Messerzahn would kill a child? A shifter child?" Margaret demanded, looking horrified and disbelieving. "Is there any chance that this is all a misunderstanding of some kind?"

  Daniel shook his head. He felt a hundred years old. "The guys who came to my house this morning—I overheard them saying that they'd been ordered to find and kill Chris. Look, I don't know how things work with bear shifters, but in my world, everyone knows that the Sandia Mountain Pride's leadership is either dead or in prison. That means there aren't any dominant sabertooth shifters to hold our territory. Normally, that would just mean a bunch of new shifters moving in to take over, but leaving the rest of us alone as long as we pay our tithes and don't make trouble."

  The puzzled look returned to Margaret's face. "You're dominant enough to fight off three shifters. Why aren't you leading your pride?"

  "I hate politics, especially shifter politics," Daniel said, feeling the familiar surge of revulsion. After Afghanistan, he'd sworn never to kill anyone again. And he sure as hell wasn't going to fight anyone just to get power. "I j
ust want to be left alone. I don't really give a sh—a hoot about being in charge of a bunch of shifters," he corrected himself hastily, conscious of Chris's intently-listening presence. "But Messerzahn isn't just interested in taking over the pride. He wants a clean slate, and his guys murdered three, maybe four of the pride's steering committee last night before they showed up at my place."

  He stopped speaking, uncomfortably aware that Margaret was staring at him.

  She said nothing. Probably trying to process it all. Probably thinking that the stories she's heard about sabertooth shifters being violent killers are true.