True Nature

by Neely Powell

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Please give her my condolences and thank you for stopping by today,” Isobel said.

  She signaled to Evan. “Could you escort Mr. Killin to the door? He’s leaving now.”

  He stepped forward, moving as if to place a hand on Killin’s elbow.

  Smiling, Killin kept his arm out of the guard’s grasp. He gave his glass to a hovering server, nodded to Isobel and Stirling, and hesitated slightly in front of Hunter.

  Hunter met the man’s gaze, his nostrils flaring as the creature’s wild scent increased. There was something flat, cold, and inhuman in the other man’s eyes as Killin made his way to the door. Nervous conversation echoed through the crowd once more.

  Isobel patted Stirling’s arm. “I hope you don’t mind, dear, I just couldn’t stand him being in the same room with people who care for Fraser.”

  Stirling kissed her cheek. “Not at all, Mother, I think you handled that quite well. But you look tired. Can I get you anything?”

  “I’d love a double scotch on the rocks if you can find one,” Isobel said with a smile.

  “For you, of course,” Stirling replied and walked toward the bar himself instead of summoning a server.

  Hunter escorted his grandmother to a seating area near the portrait. “Nana, please admit you’re tired and sit here for a while. Let everyone come to you.”

  “Don’t you dare treat me like an old woman,” she said, although she sank heavily on a settee.

  Zoe took a seat in the chair beside her. “This kind of thing is always exhausting,” she said. “You should rest for a moment.”

  Stirling brought his mother’s drink. She took it and had a healthy sip. Hunter noted that color again bloomed in her cheeks.

  “Nothing like Macallan’s.” She patted Zoe’s arm. “You’re right, these kinds of gatherings are exhausting. I’ll greet guests from my little throne for a while.”

  When the last guest was gone, the family gathered in a suite to discuss the next steps. Stirling and Margaret sat on the overstuffed sofa and Meagan with her grandmother across from them. Hunter and Zoe occupied chairs nearby.

  Isobel had invited Zoe despite raised eyebrows from Hunter’s parents. Evan, of course, didn’t need an invitation. He was rarely more than an arm’s length away, always confident about where he belonged. Three armed guards stood outside the doors.

  Isobel clasped her hands in front of her and took a deep breath, “I don’t think any of us were surprised to see Michael Killin show up today. Frankly, I would have been surprised if he hadn’t.”

  “Mother—” Stirling interrupted and stood.

  “You know we need to talk about this. It’s not going to go away if we don’t.” She turned to Hunter. “What are you going to do?”

  “What are you talking about, Nana?” Meagan asked.

  “Really, Isobel, do we need to do this now?” Margaret asked, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles in her black Ralph Lauren dress.

  “There’s a very serious clan feud going on, and we’re right in the middle of it,” Isobel said. “We’ve got to decide how to respond.”

  She walked to Hunter and laid a hand on his arm. “As if we didn’t already know he was intent on murdering all of our kind, Killin’s appearance here today made a bold statement.”

  “Nana.” Meagan faced her grandmother. “He can’t just kill Hunter.”

  “Yes, he can, Meagan. That’s exactly what he can do,” Isobel said calmly. “Just like he killed your Grandda.”

  Though she now knew about the feud with the Killins, Hunter’s practical-minded, accountant sister was still skeptical. “Well, if you know he did it, why not go to the police and let them handle it?”

  “What proof do we have?” Isobel retorted, not unkindly. “Michael Killin is a feared but highly respected businessman. His name has never been associated with a public scandal. There’s nothing to indicate he’s the murderous animal that he is.”

  “Look, Nana,” Hunter said. “We’ve done everything we can to prepare for this. You need to go Scotland and leave it to us.”

  “He’s right,” Stirling said, standing. “We’re fighting him on all fronts.”

  Isobel pursed her lips. “Stirling, your father wanted you to stay as far from Killin’s business as you could. He didn’t want you to take him on.”

  “Father’s no longer here,” Stirling replied evenly. “He made all the decisions for us about how I did business and about how Hunter was prepared for his life. But now he’s gone, and I will follow my own instincts. When it comes to business, they’re damned good.”

  “He made mistakes,” Isobel admitted. “But he loved you.”

  “And now we have to make our own way,” Hunter said.

  Isobel hesitated a moment. “Fraser would want you all to feel free to do as you wanted.” She looked at Stirling, then at Hunter. “He tried to protect you both.”

  “Dear God,” Meagan said. “How do you protect yourself from something like Killin? He’s untouchable. He could kill us all and get away with it.”

  “Not on my watch.” Hunter stood. “I’m not letting this family down.”

  Evan stepped forward. “I think I can offer some measure of comfort here. Craig is sending more guards. We’ll be keeping an eye on all of you. We know everyone is in danger, and we’re not just sitting around waiting for it.”

  “That’s good.” Isobel nodded. “I know that all of the extended MacRae family has a stake in this. Shamus was murdered, too, as well as that poor man from the clan in North Carolina.”

  “I’d like to talk to our North Carolina kin,” Hunter said. “We need to be working together.”

  “Someone will be calling you soon.” Evan exchanged a look with Stirling. Hunter frowned, wondering what the two of them were hiding from him.

  His mother interrupted as she got up. “Oh, it will be so nice to get acquainted with the rest of the shifters in our family.”

  “Margaret,” Stirling said in warning.

  “No, I mean it, Stirling.” Her laughter was thin. She stopped at the room’s ornately carved bar and poured whiskey into a glass. “All I’ve wanted since the day you filled me in on your family’s proclivities was to have more monsters in my life.”

  “We are not monsters,” Isobel protested.

  “Mother, please,” Meagan implored.

  Margaret took a long drink of the whiskey, her expression openly hostile as she studied her husband.

  Hunter expected his father’s usual stoic acceptance of his wife’s bitterness. Instead, there was so much hurt in Stirling’s expression that Hunter looked away. He felt like a kid, peeking around the door during an adult moment he’d rather not seen. It was easier to think of his parents as willing partners in a business arrangement than as human with fears and disappointments of their own.

  “Margaret, please steady yourself,” Stirling said. He looked at the others in the room. “It’s obvious we’re all tired. This has been a long day, and we have many more in front of us.”

  Evan called for a security detail to escort Stirling, Margaret, Isobel, and Meagan to the front of the hotel and the limousines that were waiting to take them to their apartments. Another would take Isobel to the airport tomorrow.

  Hunter hugged his sister and said cordial goodbyes to his parents before Nana enveloped him in one of her patented, rose-scented embraces.

  “You’re Fraser’s brave boy,” she whispered, the lilt of her Scottish heritage in her musical voice. Then she let him go and reached out to Evan and Zoe, clasping hands with both of them. “You’ve been entrusted with his life.”

  The room was still after she had exited.

  Zoe let out a breath. “Nothing like a little pressure.”

  To diffuse the situation, Hunter turned to Evan. “I need to go for a walk and breathe some air that’s not full of chimera stink or funeral flowers.”

  “No problem.” Evan spoke to someone who was holding a car for them and then followed Hunter and Z
oe into the hallway.

  Outside the hotel, the trio headed down Park Avenue toward Times Square. They took a turn at 47th Street and ended up at the club Denim and Diamonds, with country music pounding and girls in tight jeans everywhere. Hunter soon grew restless and bored, so they left, again heading toward the bright lights of 42nd Street.

  He was crossing 44th Street when a movement caught his eye. He did a double take, sure he’d seen a huge cat standing in a doorway down an alley. But when he looked back, the doorway was empty and people were walking by undisturbed.

  “I saw it too,” Evan said. “Killin is playing with us.”

  Hunter stopped, staring down the alley and trying to see what wasn’t there.

  “That seems risky,” Zoe said. “What if someone saw him and screamed?”

  “Michael Killin is very old and very skillful. He can switch forms faster than you can blink.”

  “I’m still working on keeping my clothes on as I change,” Hunter grumbled.

  Evan sighed. “For lack of a better word, Killin’s movements are often…magical.”

  “Magic,” Zoe breathed her eyes somber. “I’m feeling a little like Meagan. There’s not much we can do against him.”

  Evan disagreed. “We have magic of our own.”

  “Nana told me to believe in magic,” Hunter said.

  “What else would you call what you can do?” Evan asked.

  At his question the busy city sounds around dimmed. Hunter had a sense of de ja vu, as if he and Evan and Zoe were standing with their backs against edge a wide, deep precipice.

  “Whoa,” Zoe said and jerked Hunter back to the present. He knew by her expression that once again, she had seen what he pictured in his head.

  Evan darted a look around them. “I think we should go home.”

  For once, Hunter agreed without protest.

  Chapter 20

  I was at the office before eight the next morning. I had a couple of busy days coming up.

  If Hunter agreed to cooperate in regard to Kelly, I had a plan that might help draw the little girl out of her mute shell. Yesterday, I had gone out on a limb to clear the plan with Lydia.

  The truth was that I had shared as much as I could tell Lydia about a plan involving a shapeshifter. Now all I needed was a cat named Hunter.

  First, however, I had to call Lizzie Howerton. Even though I hit a wall with Elaine Hayden Richards and didn’t have any other promising leads, it was time for an update.

  She didn’t accept my news with grace.

  “Well, I’ll just go talk to her,” Lizzie said. “I know her somewhat. She and her husband were on the board of the children’s hospital with Mommy for a couple of years. I’ve talked to her at various events.”

  “I’m not sure she’ll budge.”

  “Maybe if she knows who is asking for the information she’ll be a little more forthcoming,” Lizzie replied. No wasn’t an option. In this case, however, I had a feeling that Lizzie’s identity might slam the door for good. If there was something to hide, Mrs. Richards wouldn’t want the Howertons to know. “Let me take another run at her before you do anything.”

  “Well, make it soon,” Lizzie said. “I have to go to court next week with my dad about Mommy’s will. Apparently she was very clear with her lawyer that Dad wasn’t to get anything, and I have no idea why. Dad wants to contest it even though my lawyer says it’s useless to try.”

  “I’ll find a way to get the information from Mrs. Hayden. It’s what I do.”

  I hung up hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. Elaine Richards had the upper hand right now. Medical records were sacred these days.

  It just seemed logical to me that Lizzie be able to see her mother’s file. Camilla was dead, the clinic was closed, and the doctor was dead. What was the harm in just reading a few records?

  I was still stewing about it when Darla came in at eight-thirty. We did the usual morning small talk while she got her computer powered up and got some coffee. Only a few moments had passed before she came around the corner to my desk.

  “What’s up with Hunter?” she asked.

  I evaded her gaze as I entered notes in Lizzie’s file. How do you discuss the fact that a supernatural creature was stalking Hunter and his entire family? Or that Hunter was a shapeshifter himself?

  Being a good Jersey girl, Darla had a fondness for animal print—she was wearing a cheetah print sweater over a tight black leather skirt today.

  I couldn’t ask Darla such a question, of course, so I said, “I haven’t talked to Hunter this morning. Is something wrong?”

  Her pretty face was lined with worry. “It’s not just this morning. Something’s not right with him. I know it. He was upset about his grandfather’s death, but he barely called in on his cases at all last week. He dumped a bunch of stuff on Brad. We have a meeting this morning. There’s another with Brad this afternoon.”

  I frowned as I clicked onto my email. Sure enough, Hunter had sent out meeting invitations. At four this morning.

  “Do you think he’s finally going to join his father’s firm?” Darla pressed.

  “He’d rather have a root canal every day than work there.”

  “I’m worried,” Darla said. “I had a boyfriend whose grandfather left him a lot of money and he quit working. Do you think there’s a chance Hunter would decide that?”

  “He’s never wanted to do anything but practice family law,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but he’s transferring everything to Brad.”

  “You don’t like Brad?”

  “He’s not Hunter.” Darla’s words were simple and to the point. “Brad’s fine. I think clients like him. I mean, he’s good-looking and young like Hunter, which is what some of these cougars like, but—”

  I struggled not to smile. Darla had no way of knowing how appropriate her feline characterization of Hunter’s typical client was.

  She continued, “With Brad there’s just no…” She hesitated, as if searching for words. “He just doesn’t make things sizzle and pop around here like Hunter has. What if Hunter’s bored and wants out?”

  It hadn’t occurred to me that Hunter would stop practicing law. Together we made a great team for our clients. Besides, Hunter would have told me if he was considering something big.

  Wouldn’t he? I wasn’t happy with the doubt creeping into my thoughts. I tried not to let my anxiety show as I thought about this weekend and how distant Hunter had been.

  Hunter was dealing with a lot. I could sense him trying to block me. I’d had a couple of links with him yesterday at the reception—images straight from his brain to mine. I hated what I had read in his mind—violence and desperation. I was unnerved by the image of Hunter, me, and Evan with our backs against a deadly fall.

  But what bothered me more? Fear of falling into the abyss or that Evan was standing there with us?

  “Well?” Darla prompted, interrupting my reverie.

  I had to be positive. “Just Friday, I heard Hunter tell his father he didn’t want to join the family firm. He’s going through a rough patch. Let’s see how it shakes out and try not to project what might happen.”

  Darla and I both looked up as the front door opened and Hunter’s voice called. “Hey, ladies, anyone interested in breakfast?”

  “Welcome back,” Darla said.

  Hunter passed through the office, calling, “Doughnuts available in the break room.”

  Darla whirled back to me and whispered, “Who is that hunk with Hunter?”

  Of course Evan was with Hunter. The man was his freaking shadow.

  I stood. “Come on. Let’s have you meet the new eye candy.”

  In the break room, Hunter performed the necessary introductions. Darla was practically salivating as she shook hands with Evan.

  I couldn’t blame her. If I could overcome my dislike for his calm demeanor, I might be able to appreciate the way his jeans clung to his butt.

  True to his stoic style,
he smiled and said very little, focusing on making fresh coffee. “What brings you to Wayne?” Darla asked Evan.

  “Evan’s my…” Hunter hesitated, his brows drawing together. “He’s joining the firm,” he finally said.

  Startled, my gaze flew to Hunter’s. What did that mean?

  Even Darla stopped her perusal of Evan’s manly form to say, “Really?”

  “He specializes in security.” Hunter avoided looking at me.

  I wondered if everyone could hear my blood pressure rising like the tick-tick of a bomb.

  “That’s great news,” Darla said with a nervous laugh. She knew Hunter and me well enough to know when there was trouble. I had never felt this level of anger at my partner and supposed best friend.

  “Let’s sit and eat,” Evan said.

  “How about in the conference room?” Hunter suggested. “I wanted to have a staff meeting at nine. Is that okay? We could go ahead and get started.”

  “Sure,” I muttered. Rather ungraciously, I pushed around Darla and scooped up two doughnuts—a chocolate-iced and a jelly-filled—and a handful of napkins.

  “I got you those low-fat egg white breakfast sandwiches you like,” Hunter said.

  “Like that’s going to happen,” I said, went to conference room and took a seat at the head of the table.

  The smoke coming out of my ears practically became flames when Evan placed a steaming mug of coffee beside me. “You take it black, don’t you?”

  I couldn’t stand that he remembered how I liked my coffee, but I forced myself to give him a stiff nod.

  Hunter looked wary as he sat opposite Evan. Darla appeared with a notepad and a half of a doughnut. I knew she’d go back later for the chocolate-iced donut with sprinkles. The guys just wouldn’t see it. It made me want to smack her, the way she was acting all girly while I was sucking down sugar and carbs like a truck driver.

  I watched in disgust as she turned to Hunter and said, “Where should I set up Evan’s office?”

  Hunter cleared his throat. “That, uh…well—”

  “I don’t need an office,” Evan explained with his usual smoothness.