Storm Chaser (City Shifters: the Pride Book 3)

by Layla Nash

  "Roger dodger." She clicked away at the screen as she started walking.

  I followed, even though I wanted to crawl into bed, and we walked in silence until reaching the smallish dining room that seated ten people. Eloise winked as she pointed me to the spot between Carter and Edgar, who pulled out my chair, and took her own spot next to Benedict. The lawyer argued quietly with Atticus, who looked like death warmed up, but still put his arm around Eloise to draw her close. Logan, at the head of the table, nodded to me. "Sophia. Glad you could join us."

  I very much doubted it. But I nodded back and concentrated on the plate in front of me. "Thanks. Happy to be here."

  Edgar snorted and passed the bread. "So convincing, girl. How did things go with Carter?"

  "He's very calm," I said. "I thought I sensed the leopard but... nothing."

  "We're close." Carter remained unruffled, smiling at me in encouragement. "I think Sophia's been holding onto control for so long she blocked the leopard out. We just have to relax that control a bit and everything should fall into place."

  "Holding onto control? Sounds familiar." Edgar glanced at Atticus, then shook his head and passed a bowl of potatoes down the table. "If you guys figure it out, share the lessons learned. It could be useful elsewhere in the family."

  "When we figure it out," Carter corrected. "Not if."

  The conversation turned to some drama at Natalia's restaurant, and an argument between Benedict and Eloise made it clear she hadn't been doing quite as many community service hours as he thought, and attention drifted away from me. I ate until I could barely draw breath, but leaned back in my chair to enjoy the family dinner. Logan observed all without comment as he drank his wine and attended to Natalia's glass as well, but periodically I would look up in time to catch him studying me. Atticus sat silently at the other end of the table, one arm guarding his plate as he shoveled food into his mouth. He didn't look up.

  But the conversation flowed easily and showed the warmth between them — a real family, even with its oddities. Jealousy flared up but I tamped it down. The good times were enviable, sure, but the obligations and responsibilities carried a heavy weight. I was better off on my own. Being unencumbered with those types of relationships meant I could move faster, farther. I stirred the food on my plate and watched the sauce soak into a chunk of bread.

  His plate clean and a twinkle in his eye, Benedict leaned his chair back on its rear legs and eyed his younger brother. "So, Carter — how's the matchmaking going?"

  Carter immediately flushed and a chorus of 'ooohs' and laughter rose from the entire table. Carter held up his hands to fend off the teasing, but he smiled through the embarrassment. "I signed up, like Logan told me to, and did the interview yesterday."

  "Any matches?" Eloise waggled her eyebrows suggestively as she leaned on the table. "A trampy tiger, maybe?"

  "A jealous jackal?" Benedict grinned, and even Logan cracked a smile.

  Poor Carter. I tried to hide a smile behind my wine glass, but must have failed because Carter shook his head. "I'm totally outnumbered."

  "A busty bear," Edgar said.

  Natalia patted his back as she headed for the kitchen, saying "Leave the poor guy alone," over her shoulder.

  Carter sighed. "Clearly I'll never tell any of you if I end up going on a date. Why don't you pick on Edgar for once? He should go sign up. I'm sure the matchmaker would love him."

  Edgar shook his head with a grin. "Don't try to redirect, brother."

  "No, I'm serious." Carter leaned forward, attention on Logan. "The matchmaker is a cougar — literally and figuratively. She's single, owns her own business, knows a lot of important people in the city."

  "Sounds like a solid match," Eloise said, and batted her eyes at Edgar. "An older woman might be able to jerk a knot in your tail, Eddie."

  Benedict snorted and brushed one of her dark braids out of his face. "I like the idea of Edgar as a kept man. It suits him. I'll help him plan the wedding after she proposes."

  Edgar's expression soured. "Everyone's a comedian tonight."

  Natalia whirled back in, carrying a cake, and brandished a giant cake server at the entire table. "If Edgar wants to shack up with an older woman, let him. It'll be nice to have some maturity around here."

  The security chief passed her a stack of dessert plates from the sideboard. "Benedict was just asking how he could help you plan the wedding, Nat. He's got some free time on his hands and is interested in party planning."

  "No, no that's not at all what —" Benedict started, waving his hands.

  Logan snorted as he took a giant wedge of cake and dug in, the fork doll-size in his hand. "That's what I heard. Didn't you need help with the flower arrangements? I'm sure the aesthetics will appeal to Benedict."

  More raucous teasing ensued as Natalia seemed determined to foist the flower arrangements off on Benedict, whose protests grew louder but fell on deaf ears entirely. I laughed but didn't dare join in, still feeling a little on the outside even though Eloise tried to include me. As the word 'bridezilla' got tossed into the conversation, I slid back from the table to avoid the shrapnel.

  Atticus rose from the table, folding his napkin next to his plate. He said, "Sophia's falling asleep. I'll walk her back to her room."

  Logan's eyebrow arched — a very specific question in a single gesture — and heat suffused my cheeks. Natalia didn't even look away from Benedict, her eyes narrowed as she spoke to Atticus. "That's a wonderful idea, Attie. I wouldn't want Sophia to get the wrong idea about me when I teach your brother a lesson about calling women anything that ends in 'zilla.'"

  "It was a compliment," Benedict said, but he was laughing too hard to even get the rest of his explanation out.

  I got up, grateful for the opportunity to go to bed, and nodded as Carter reminded me when to meet him at the gym the next morning. I waited until Atticus and I were in the hall and a good distance from the dining room before looking at him. "You look like hell, by the way."

  "Thanks." He smiled with half his mouth, and reached for my hand. Our fingers linked together easily. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach and I had to concentrate to understand as he went on. "Edgar's got me sparring with the entire security team. So pretty much thirty dudes whaling on me all day long."

  "Poor baby," I said, and leaned my shoulder in to jostle his.

  Atticus snorted but took the opportunity to loop his arm around my waist and pull me close to his side. We fit together perfectly. I leaned against him, eyes half-closed already. He sighed and kissed the top of my head. "How was your day with Carter?"

  "Different." I yawned and slid my hand into the back pocket of his jeans, his ass firm and warm through the fabric. "I think I like kicking your ass more than I like doing zen yoga with Carter."

  "Good," he said, pulling me closer. "But you didn't kick my ass, sweetheart. I let you win."

  I laughed and tilted my face up to study him, poking his ribs until he jumped. "Uh huh. Sure. You can say that all you want in front of the boys, baby, but you and I know the truth."

  His nose brushed mine as he studied me, then kissed the corner of my mouth. I braced my hands on his shoulders as he nibbled behind my ear. His husky words sent me up on my toes so I could link my arms around his neck. "There are a couple of things we both know, baby. Isn't that right?"

  I smiled but wobbled, my legs on fire from all the yoga and stretching and forms with Carter. Atticus wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight, a purr rumbling in his chest as he nuzzled in my hair. Warmth surrounded me and the purr vibrated through me until it relaxed every muscle in my body.

  Atticus sighed. "This is your room, babe."

  "Okay." I forced my eyes open and looked at the door, then closed my eyes again and rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

  He took a breath but I patted his cheek to interrupt him. "No sex. Just sleep."

  "Sure." Atticus picked
me up and cradled me to his chest, carrying me to the next door down the hall. He maneuvered the door open without putting me down, despite that I laughed at him, and took me all the way to his bedroom. Atticus propped me on my feet and pointed me to the en suite bathroom. "There's an extra toothbrush for you. I'll find you some pjs."

  "You got me a toothbrush?" I leaned on the doorframe more than I planned, watching him shuffle around the cozy room. It suited him — sturdy and masculine and solid. Warm. A big bed with a heavy wooden frame, almost a four poster, and a wrought iron light fixture like a chandelier over the middle of the room. Dim light from a lamp on a bedside table cast shadows but made the room close and warm and safe.

  "Sure." Atticus dug through a drawer in the dresser, then glanced at me with a neutral expression. "I planned for you to stay a while."

  I smiled, even though it made me a little sad, and retreated to brush my teeth. When I returned, he handed me a well-worn t-shirt, soft with use and washes, and went to the bathroom for his own nighttime ritual. I folded my clothes and pulled on his t-shirt, holding it up to my nose to smell. Atticus returned to the bedroom and started flipping off the few lights before he herded me to the bed and pulled back the covers.

  The smooth cotton felt cool against my hands as I slid into the sheets. Atticus followed close behind, so he could take the side of the bed closest to the door, and he fussed with the pillows before settling into a comfortable spoon. He patted my bare hip, palm rough against my skin, and held me close as he pulled the sheets up over us.

  I snuggled into the pillows and him and the gloriously soft sheets. Atticus's feet tangled with mine, the hair on his legs ticklish as I wiggled and squirmed to get comfortable. I couldn't keep my eyes open. He nosed the back of my neck and kissed my shoulder, then grumbled, "If you want to sleep, Soph, you've gotta stop moving like that."

  I huffed a laugh, an almost feline sound, and his purr grew louder. His arm pillowed my head, so I could kiss his bicep without stretching, and I yawned. "Good night, Atticus."

  "Good night, Sophia." His arms tightened around me briefly, then he exhaled and relaxed.

  It seemed like only a moment before he slept, his breathing deep and even and with a hint of a snore, and I stared into the darkness as the impending deadline loomed large in my mind. He'd planned for me to stay a while. His breath warmed my skin where the neck of the t-shirt gapped, and I closed my eyes. I still had two more days. I could still stay a while.

  The gentle rumble of his purr surrounded me, carried me away to sleep. As I drifted off, in the hazy half-sleep, something inside me eased. I felt her, for the first time — the leopard. She finally felt safe enough to peep her head out of the darkest recesses of my mind. I yawned and murmured, "You make me want to be better, too," and both the leopard and Atticus purred.

  Seventeen

  Atticus woke slowly in the dark room, disoriented as he tried to figure out what time it was. Sophia still slept, her head on his chest, though she made a face in her sleep and burrowed closer to his side. He closed his eyes again and stroked her arm, wanting to smooth the wrinkles from her forehead. The door creaked and he froze, the lion wide awake to determine the threat.

  Benedict poked his head into the room and kept his voice down. "Let's go. It's past seven already."

  Atticus tried to untangle himself but Sophia clung to him like a barnacle. Her leg, hooked over his, tightened and she muttered as she pressed her face against his neck. He raised his hands in defeat to his brother, and Benedict sighed before retreating. Atticus stared at the ceiling, confident he would pay a price for violating Edgar's orders, but Sophia made a soft, content sound that sent his heart pounding and his lion purring. He liked having her warm and safe next to him. He kissed her forehead and went back to sleep.

  Carter knocked some time later and laughed as he told them both to get up. Sophia grumbled as she got up and got dressed, and Atticus loved every minute of watching her all sleepy and crabby. He didn't feel any better about being awake that early, so they both shuffled down the hall in silence. Carter led the way into the garden behind the house, saying, "We can meditate out here," over his shoulder.

  Atticus kissed Sophia and turned to go, but Carter cleared his throat. "Stay for a bit, Att. You can meditate with us. Maybe that will help the leopard relax."

  So he dropped to sit next to Sophia on the dewy grass, the cool air making his skin prickle, as Carter started some weird breathing exercises. He wanted to make fun but Sophia clearly believed in it, settling into a weird cross-legged position and humming under her breath. He tried to do the breathing stuff but eventually just dozed as the sun warmed his skin and a bee buzzed around his head. But as the quiet and calm settled around him and he had nothing to think about, a strange thing happened.

  His lion quieted. Settled down. Coexisted with him in peace. And even started to relax, releasing some of the anxiety that drove them from fight to fight. Atticus resisted the urge to think too hard about why it happened and instead just sat with his lion, trying to bridge the gap between them. Like she said, two sides of the same hand, struggling to hold on.

  When he finally pried his eyes open, feeling lighter, he found both Carter and Sophia watching him. "What?" he asked, batting away an insect that landed on his cheek.

  "Nothing." Sophia's nose wrinkled. "You just looked really peaceful."

  Atticus snorted and shoved to his feet. "Right. Peaceful. Let's get some peaceful breakfast and then I have to get to work before Edgar peacefully fires me."

  "He agreed you could help us today," Carter said, tone mild as he got to his feet. "If you're up for it."

  Atticus took a breath and wound up a smart response about wanting to spend time with his mate, then held off as he looked at Sophia. "If you want me here, I'll stay. But I don't want to distract you."

  She smiled and went up on her toes to kiss him. "You're definitely a distraction. Let's get breakfast and see how we feel. Deal?"

  "Deal." He grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder for the hike back up to the house and the eat-in kitchen, Carter following and rolling his eyes.

  Atticus put her in a chair at the table and started gathering ingredients for omelets, intent on cooking for his mate, but he struggled for something to say to Sophia. So instead he looked at his brother. "How's the dating thing going for real, Carter?"

  "Yeah, how does a matchmaker work for shifters?" Sophia asked, leaning her elbows on the table.

  Carter sighed and pulled a few pitchers of fresh-squeezed juice out of the fridge. "Well, if you're not going to tease me about it..." He looked at them both, snorting when he saw the 'who me?' look Atticus put on, and retrieved three glasses from the cupboard. "Great. It's fine. It was an interview with the owner, you fill out a profile, and you leave an article of clothing there."

  "Clothing? What the hell for? So someone can judge your style?" Sophia made a face and got up to stretch, all lithe and limber. Atticus nearly dropped the eggs as he watched her bend over.

  Carter elbowed him and pointed at the skillet. "You're burning that, brother." He leaned back against the island to address Sophia, remarkably unmoved by her contortions, and Atticus wanted to hug his middle brother more than ever. "Well, most of the communication shifters do is by scent. So if I go in there and smell a few pieces of clothing, I should be able to tell pretty quickly if there's a possibility to match or not. Recognizing my mate shouldn't take much more than that."

  "Regardless of what they look like or do or think or believe?" Her eyebrows arched as Carter handed her a bunch of silverware to set the table. "What if you get stuck with a mate who's a total bitch? Or just really unpleasant? Or awful? Awful people have mates, too, right?"

  "Well, yeah." Carter rubbed his shoulder, looking bashful. "Everyone has a mate somewhere. I guess if you discover your mate isn't really a good match, you don't have to settle with them. It's just — painful, I would think, to know your mate is there but not be able to be with them."

&nbs
p; Atticus concentrated on the skillet and the mess of eggs and peppers and onions. He dumped cheese onto it and pondered his culinary skills so he wouldn't think about what Carter said. Atticus knew in his bones Sophia was his mate, and there wasn't anything anyone in the world could say or do to get him to leave her. Unless the Council decided she had to die. He cleared his throat and pointed at the eggs with the spatula. "You want some of this, Carter, or you gonna make your own?"

  Carter, always the diplomat, glanced at the skillet and shook his head. "I'll make my own, thanks."

  Atticus split the scrambled mess onto two plates and carried them over to the table. He put one in front of Sophia and sat next to her. She blinked and leaned against his shoulder, saying, "Thanks, big guy."

  A pleased grumble started in his chest as he watched her eat. The lion liked feeding their mate. He wanted her sated and full. Sophia studied Carter as he made his own egg white omelet. "So what happens if one mate wants to get together but the other one doesn't?"

  Atticus answered instead, shaking his head as he looked at his plate. "They used to practice bride-napping. Some of the packs out west still keep with the old ways, and every now and then we have a family in the city who do the same. They didn't use to ask the girls at all. If a man said a girl was his mate, that was the end of it. He would know, right? They've gotten away from that, and now both parties have to agree."

  "But it doesn't always happen that way?" Sophia looked at them both as they shook their heads, and she frowned. "So I guess a matchmaker is better than bride-napping."

  "Infinitely." Carter finished his plate and took a seat across from them. "And much better than the Auction."

  "Auction?"

  Atticus sighed and gave Carter a dark look for bringing up sensitive subjects. "Nothing for you to worry about, Soph. The wolves have a shortage of women, so the packs that have unmated women bring them to one place and all the guys are there to —"