It eased his grief to know that. And even at the end, the boy had thought of his old grandfather with worry. With love.
Lachlan hadn‘t told the female, "Call Gramps." He‘d deliberately sent a human to Cold Creek, a Daonain-inhabited town. Why?
Thorson looked up as Calum and Alec walked into the living room, deep in a discussion already. That the Cosantir and the head cahir would include him in their plans was a gift, an acknowledgment of his grief and need. Silently, he rose and served each a beer.
"Two men at the house. One in a suit—but she called him a thug—and one was ex-military." After a smile of thanks for the drink, Alec dropped onto the couch. "Remember those trappers we drove away? Looked like they‘d had military training. The one with a shaved head was probably Swane."
The wind gusted the windows and the house creaked, settling even as Thorson settled his old bones in his favorite chair.
Calum took the seat opposite. "The man tried to create more shifters with Lachlan, for whatever reason, and failed. Now he‘s lost the one shifter he had."
"So they‘re trying to catch another," Alec said flatly. "The poachers arrived after Vicki and Lachlan escaped. And they were a hell of a lot closer to Cold Creek than the ones we found before."
"It doesn‘t sound as if Lachlan gave them any information, but his belongings…or logic…directed them here. Now I wish we‘d questioned them, rather than driving them off,"
Calum said. "Even if I had to gut their memories afterwards."
Thorson heard his regret and guilt. "You couldn‘t know if they were guilty or not." He shook his head. "You were correct in what you did, Cosantir."
"He‘s right, Calum," Alec said.
Bitter lines around his mouth, Calum stared at the fire for a minute, and then scrubbed his face with his hands. "What‘s done is done. I fear we have another problem beyond poachers.
Since the man thinks a bite will transform a human, he‘ll search hard for Victoria."
"Hell, brawd, you‘re right." Alec straightened, his eyes chilling. "First step is to find out who owned or rented that house. I‘ll start there."
As the cry of a wolf trailed down from the mountain, Thorson felt the coldness of worry creeping into his old bones. Were those humans setting traps in their forests even now?
"I‘ll ask Tynan to access the military files and search for an ex-marine named Swane,"
Calum said, taking a sip of beer. "We might get a current address from that. We cannot act until we find them."
"And then?" Thorson gritted out.
Calum slanted him a look that told him fury burned in the Cosantir as hotly as it did within him. "And then, we will treat these murderers as they deserve."
Chapter Ten
The next day, Vic pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. No way. This was enough to make her believe Wells really was as psychic as some of his agents claimed.
"Sir." She cleared her throat. "Did you just say you wanted me to fly to Washington D.C.?"
"If your hearing is that faulty, I‘ll put you back on medical leave."
Fuck, he sounded like he hadn‘t had his coffee today—or for a week or so. "And once there?"
"Report to my office."
A meet? Her stomach slid greasily to the floor. She might avoid the subject of shifters on the phone, but in person? Concealing information from Arthur Wells was as futile as hiding a sin from God. Or trying to lie to Calum.
"I was looking forward to returning to my assignment in Baghdad." Weak, Vic, weak.
But his voice softened slightly, if that were possible for a voice sharper than a blade. "I realize that. However, I‘m scheduled for China next week, and I want to see you in person before I leave. Five days, Sergeant. Can you manage?"
Trapped. "Have I ever not?"
"No, you always come through," he said quietly and made it all worse by adding, "I‘ve missed you, soldier. I‘m pleased you‘re coming back to us."
She managed to hang up before she broke down and bawled like a baby. He was the nearest thing to a family she had. And she had concealed information he really should have.
But why the meet? Had he gotten a hint of what the guy in the suit was hunting—the shifters. Slumping lower in her chair, she moaned. How the fuck was she going to handle this?
*
In the afternoon, Jamie decided that cold weather needed something hot like Italian food.
Calum had hesitated, wanting action. His instincts hammered at him to fight to protect the clan, but he had no opponent to attack. He‘d sent shifters into the forest, searching for traps and poachers. Tynan and Alec were hunting through military and Seattle databases. Pacing around the house like an irritated cat would help nothing.
So he and Jamie walked into town to pick up the ingredients for lasagna. As they carried the groceries out of the store, he took a deep breath of the biting cold air and smiled at his daughter.
With her mother‘s slender build and her nose and cheeks pink, she bounced along the sidewalk like one of Santa‘s elves. "Did you see that gnome?" She pointed to the beady eyes peering from the sidewalk gutter. "He made a face at me!"
Calum suppressed a laugh and asked reasonably, "How can you tell?"
"Honestly, Daddy. I know they‘re ugly, but he stuck his lips out and—" she demonstrated, and he did laugh.
"Ah, well, the cold makes them ill-tempered."
"Yeah, even the pixies are grumpy. One threw an acorn at me yesterday, and I hadn‘t done—hey, look, there‘s Vicki!"
Through the bookstore‘s display window, Victoria could be seen talking with Thorson.
Before Calum could refuse, Jamie grabbed his hand and pulled him into Books.
Although Victoria didn‘t smile, pleasure lit her eyes when Jamie gave her a happy hug. Over the past weeks, Calum had enjoyed watching the repressed little human deal with his daughter‘s exuberant affection.
"I haven‘t seen you forever!" his daughter complained and cast Calum a disgusted frown.
"Daddy doesn‘t want me in the bar when people start really drinking."
"What a mean guy," Victoria agreed, giving him a look that, if she were anyone else, he‘d call uncertainty. Of course, only a couple of days before, Alec had almost sliced her throat. Then she‘d come close to having her memory wiped by Calum. And he‘d kissed her goodnight. That might be enough to unnerve even this self-confident female.
With a straight face, he asked, "Victoria, you appear tired. Have you been sleeping well?"
Thorson barked a laugh.
A wry smile curved her full lips. "Too many strange noises at night, I guess."
Calum grinned. Bloody tough female there. One he wanted. By Herne, he felt like pulling her into his arms and taking possession. His cock hardened in agreement.
As if she could tell, her gaze heated…and then she edged away, even as he reminded himself that she was human. "Are you two here to get a book?" she asked Jamie.
"Can we, Daddy?" Jamie implored. "I‘ve read all mine."
"Jamie, I don‘t know—"
Thorson grinned and interjected, "You want your daughter to be literate?"
"Reading is very important," Victoria agreed solemnly.
Quite outnumbered. "Fine."
Jamie handed him her grocery bag and disappeared into the stacks. "One book," he called after her.
"Two books would be better." Victoria pushed the two books she held across the counter to Thorson.
"Some people are cheapskates," Thorson commented loudly.
"Thank you for the support. I‘ll have you know, her paperbacks are pushing mine off the shelves, and I‘m probably one of your best customers, you bugger."
"Sounds like you‘re a little off your feed." Thorson picked up Victoria‘s books and set them on his desk.
"Cranky," Victoria agreed, talking to Thorson as if Calum wasn‘t standing right next to her—standing close enough to breathe in her unique spicy fragrance, feel the heat from her body.
<
br /> And cranky was a term for children who hadn‘t had their naps. With a frown, he looked down. Their eyes caught…and held. Humor danced in her eyes and curved her lips, and he couldn‘t suppress a laugh.
It was a rare female who could tease him out of a...cranky...mood. Even rarer to find one who made him harden and laugh at the same time. Why did a human have to be so attractive?
"Here." Jamie crowded between Calum and Victoria and pushed her selection across the counter.
"Two?" Calum asked dryly.
"I don‘t want anyone to call you a cheap—uh, something, so I thought I‘d better get two books like Vicki said." Jamie gave him such an innocent smile that no one could possibly doubt her sincerity. No one but a very experienced father.
"Hmmm. An extra book. That would mean an additional night of washing dishes, I believe?"
She wrinkled her nose at him. "Oh, okay."
"I need to get going," Victoria said, and although she smiled, her brown eyes looked so sad that Calum‘s heart wrenched.
"Aren‘t you getting any books today?" Thorson actually frowned at the little human.
"No. I just wanted to bring those back."
"Wait." Jamie grabbed her sleeve. "You want to come to dinner? We‘re making lasagna."
Calum stiffened. Was the God testing him, setting this female in his path at every turn? The time they spent working together and cleaning up after closing had been hard enough on his control. Even worse was when they‘d share a beer afterwards, watching the fire die down while discussing politics and cultures and books. She shouldn‘t attract him at all, and he certainly should not ever have kissed her. Yet, as Alec had said, Gatherings and danger brought out the animal in a shifter.
But to continue this foolishness?
He‘d hesitated too long, and Victoria shook her head. "I… No, Jamie, I need to—" she paused, obviously at a loss for a good excuse.
He should have let it go, but the hurt in her eyes was like a knife in his chest. "We are experts at lasagna-making, and it would be a pity not to share our superb culinary skills with others. We‘ll expect you at seven."
She frowned at him. So unsure—something he rarely saw in this woman. But after looking at Jamie‘s pleading eyes, she sighed. "Well, all right. I love lasagna."
*
Fuck. Sitting at his office desk, Vidal crumpled up the paper he‘d just signed and flung it at the wall. His signature had always been a fat scrawl. Now it was small, a pencil‘s width, the letters all crammed together because his fingers wouldn‘t loosen any more. And he‘d lost his balance again this morning.
Fear crawled around inside him like a cockroach in his guts. His time was running out—the fucking Parkinson‘s was winning. Diseased. Furiously, he swiped his arm over his desk, sending everything crashing to the floor.
He glared at the sound of a knock. "Yeah. What?"
Swane opened the door and walked in. His cold brown eyes flickered over the mess. "Got something." He set some papers down on the desk.
Forcing his anger down, Vidal looked them over. "Medical reports?"
"Uh-huh. Military. For a Victoria Morgan who‘s recovering from a knee injury."
"Alive? Son of a fucking bitch, she survived!" His hopes leaped. Had she transformed? Was she a werecreature now? He looked through the pages and scowled. "The report don‘t say nothing about bite marks."
"The doc called‘em: various healed scars. But see here"—Swane flipped to the back page—
"The bitch wanted a copy, so she gave them her address."
Vidal squinted to decipher the small type. "She‘s living in Cold Creek?"
"Now doesn‘t that put your shorts in a wad?"
Vidal shoved the papers away. "Get her. And find out if she‘s changed into one of them."
"Just like that, huh." Swane snorted. "Go ask her, "Hey, Miss Morgan. Eating more red meat lately?"
"Cut the crap." Vidal leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his excitement from exploding.
"Just get her. But be careful. She‘s seen your ugly face."
"No problem. I got some merc buddies who need a few extra bucks. They can take point; I‘ll do backup."
Vidal frowned. More people in on the information. "I don‘t —"
"They‘ll never know what‘s going on. They‘ll just tranq her and toss her into the van—they won‘t see her turn into a cougar. If she even can."
Swane‘s last remark hit Vidal hard. She must have been transformed. She had to have.
"Good plan." Vidal listened to the rain against the window. "When you spot her, grab her right then. No matter what. With her fucking background, she could disappear completely if anything sets her off."
"Got it. You know, if she‘s hanging out in Cold Creek, it‘s cuz the kid clued her in. She knows something." Swane‘s smile didn‘t reach his dead eyes. "Give me a day with her, and she‘ll be happy to tell you every fucking detail."
*
That night, Vic veered across the parking lot to the right of the Wild Hunt where a tall wooden fence enclosed the tavern‘s side and back yards. As she opened the gate, a chill shook her like a cold hand stroking up her spine. The last time she‘d gone through a wooden fence to a back yard, she‘d been knocked out, tied up. And then had a mountain lion munch on her.
Hopefully this evening would end better.
Or not. It‘s not like she had an appetite. I hate goodbyes. Leaving a message would be far, far easier. But the kid wouldn‘t understand. Vic remembered the times her father left for overseas stations without telling her. As she‘d cried, whatever housekeeper he‘d hired would give her his note. It had never helped.
So tonight, she‘d tell Jamie goodbye in person. And hopefully, Calum wouldn‘t get upset about losing a part-time barmaid.
A few steps past the gate, she stopped and stared. Wowsa. After the barren parking lot in front, she hadn‘t been anticipating...this. The brick path down the side was overhung with lilacs.
Roses climbed over the wooden archway at the entrance, and the late blooms lent sweetness to the air. In the backyard, a knee-high rocky waterfall splashed into an oval pond. Gold and red koi flashed just under the water‘s surface hoping for a handout. Crumbs scattered beside a tall-backed bench showed someone liked to feed them.
Herbs filled the corners adding the scents of rosemary and oregano. Vic turned in a circle.
What did this place look like in the summer? She felt a stab of envy. Must be nice to plant something and be around months later to see it blossom.
Still seemed as if a werecat should have a chicken house, not a garden. God, there was so much she didn‘t know about them.
The path led to steps climbing to the second-floor landing. As she put her foot on the first step, her heart rate increased with her anticipation...of seeing Calum. Oh, man, coming here was stupid, stupid, stupid. Growling under her breath like some wacko released from a psych house, she stomped up the stairs. There were two doors, not one, as if even the damned entrances were saying, ‗choose one brother or the other‘.
She pounded on the one with Calum‘s name.
"She‘s here!" Jamie‘s voice rang out. The door was thrown open, and Vic got her second hug of the day. She‘d had more hugs this season than in several years. Scary thought. "Hey, munchkin." The feel of the kid‘s skinny arms filled Vic with fondness...just fondness. Nothing more.
Vic pulled back, shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. "Nice garden you got here, kid."
"Did you see the fish? The red one is Peter and the gold one with orange marks is Wendy.
And there‘s a big guy with black patches—he‘s Hook." Jamie put her hands in her pockets like Vic. "Of course, I named them when I was just a little girl."
"Of course," Vic agreed solemnly. As she smiled, she saw Calum watching from the door.
The way his eyes softened when he looked at his daughter squeezed her heart. Then his gaze met hers. Heat seared her skin in a blast of fire. Oh, this was such a bad idea. "Hey
," Vic said weakly.
"Welcome to our home." His lips curved as if he could see her worries. "Come in, Victoria.
We‘re eating lasagna tonight, not little humans." As he disappeared into the kitchen, Jamie grabbed her hand and dragged Vic after her like a pull-toy.
Calum checked the oven, then turned. "What can I get you to drink?"
"Beer if you have it." The heady smell of garlic filled the large kitchen, and her stomach rumbled.
As Jamie laughed, Calum smiled, poured Guinness into a mug, and handed it to Vic. "Don‘t worry. As soon as the bread is browned, we‘ll eat."
"I didn‘t realize I was hungry."
Calum took a sip of his own drink, a dark wine. As he studied her over the top of the glass, his gaze felt like a hot sun against overly sensitive skin. "You should eat more," he said. "You‘re underweight."
"That‘s rude, Daddy. I think Vicki is perfect," Jamie said loyally.
Laughing, Vic swung an arm over the kid‘s shoulders and frowned. "Have you grown?
Weren‘t you shorter yesterday?"
"Scary, isn‘t it," Calum said in a dry voice. "She‘ll have her first trawsfur soon and the thought terrifies me."
Vic‘s jaw dropped open. "Jamie will?"
"Daddy!" The girl turned to stare at Vic. "You told Vicki—"
"Ah, I forgot to tell you, dearling, Victoria knows about us."
Calum grinned at his daughter‘s bug-eyed look, and Victoria looked quite as startled as she stared at Jamie.
"You never thought of young shifters?" he asked.
"Um, no." Victoria touched Jamie‘s cheek so gently that his heart squeezed. "Will you turn into a cat? Like your dad? Is Alec a cougar too?"
Jamie giggled. "I‘ll probably be a cougar. And Uncle Alec is too."
"God, I bet you‘ll be beautiful," Victoria said, the wonder in her voice sending a pang through him. "So what happens the first time you change? Is it anything special?"
Jamie answered in such a serious tone that Calum was warned. "Well, sparks come out of our hands, and we make a big boom—"
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