“Beautiful,” he whispered as he came down to her. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”
“You’re not bad yourself,” Bree mumbled, exhaustion stealing her powers of speech. “In fact, you’re pretty hot.”
Seamus’s low laughter shook the bed, and to this agreeable lullaby, Bree dropped into sleep.
***
A wild scream broke the darkness. Bree jumped awake, her heart banging.
The sound was more like a wail, a horrible noise that wound high, boring through Bree’s brain. The sound came from outside, but an instant later, it was echoed by Seamus, who threw back his head and roared as though all the pain in the world had gathered within him.
Bree rolled away and scrambled to her feet in sheer panic. Seamus came off the bed, his hands on either side of his head, his eyes so light gold they were nearly white.
“Hurts,” he moaned. “Hurts.”
From outside came shouts, more screams, animal cries. Bree didn’t want to take her gaze off Seamus, but she ran to the window and looked out.
Something crashed past the trees that lined the yard, a bulk running straight for the house. The Den was lit up, Walker outside. She heard the sound of a pistol shot, and another.
Seamus screamed again. Down below, Bree saw the glint of sword as Sean sprinted into the yard, with what looked like every male in Shiftertown behind him. They were chasing the giant animal that broke through Ronan’s front door, splintering it, and charged into the house.
CHAPTER 15
Pain. Emptiness. Rage.
All poured through Seamus as the feral came up the stairs, heading unerringly to what it needed.
The cub.
Screams sounded in the room where they’d put Katie—Cherie and Francesca, Olaf crying out. Seamus was barely aware of Bree snatching up his T-shirt to throw on her own body as he slammed himself out of the room and across the hall.
The door to Katie’s room had been torn off its hinges. Seamus saw Cherie pressed into a far corner, her terror so high it cut through the rest of the emotions churning through Seamus’s head.
That clarity allowed him to see the situation without the haze of madness—Francesca, her nightshirt fluttering to the floor as she shifted to wolf. Olaf, as small as he was, putting himself in front of Katie’s bed, his hands out protectively.
Olaf faced another bear, its brown fur matted with mud and blood, giant paws sporting broken claws, its dark eyes filled with madness. The bear was male, Shifter, and feral. No Collar adorned its neck, Seamus saw in the moment the bear turned and came for him.
Seamus was already shifting to lion. The bear’s attack caught him mid-shift, at his most vulnerable, which he now realized was how the bear had taken him by surprise out in the dark. Seamus spun back into the hall, his lion’s hind legs scrabbling for purchase. Bree, wide-eyed, got out of the way.
Seamus gained his feet, fully lion now, and went for the bear. The bear hurtled out of the bedroom, and they slammed together in the hall.
The stink nearly knocked Seamus over, as did the feral’s outpouring of grief, anger, and hatred. The bear struck, and struck again, its ragged claws raking Seamus’s side. The scent of blood woke Seamus’s frenzy, and then nothing was clear.
Teeth, claws, blows. Seamus rolled, with the bear on him, then he came up on top of the bear to be thrown aside like nothing. Francesca leapt, her wolf landing full force on the bear’s back. At the same time Bree darted inside the room, heading to help the cubs.
Seamus was aware of other Shifters on their way up the stairs, Rebecca included, Walker behind her. Ronan had already charged out of his own room, but there was no space for him to shift into the Kodiak bear he was.
Another lion joined the fray. Seamus heard a sword clatter to the floor, and knew this was Sean. Sean hit the bear, driving it from Seamus, who rolled out from under it. Francesca ran at the bear’s huge back feet, her wolf snapping and clawing.
Seamus saw the rage in the bear’s eyes change to desperation. It knew it was outnumbered, would never get away. It flung off Seamus and Sean with renewed strength and burst into the bedroom.
Katie was standing on the bed, roaring in fear and surprise. On the floor next to her was a polar bear cub. He was up on his hind legs, his black eyes sparkling, his too-small mouth open in a warning roar. Cherie had turned grizzly, she too rising on back feet. Her bear was a little more formidable than those of the cubs, but she was still too young to take on the full-grown feral.
The feral bear drew back his huge paws and swept them down at Olaf and Katie. Seamus knew he’d never be able to reach them in time.
But Bree was there, rising from the other side of the bed like an avenging angel. She grabbed Katie and yanked her to safety, just as the bear’s blow landed. The mattress ripped in two, and the wooden bedstead clattered apart, striking the feral but also Olaf as he scampered out of the way.
The bear turned for Katie, and Seamus tore into him. They both went down, Seamus at last getting his teeth in the bear’s throat. He clamped down, and ripped.
The feral bear roared his pain and slammed himself down, flailing until he dislodged Seamus. Seamus, the bear’s blood foul in his mouth, rolled in the small space, smacking into pieces of the broken bed.
Bree was up, holding on to Katie, standing against Cherie for protection. Cherie’s Collar was sparking hard, as was Sean’s as he ran in, though Sean’s didn’t slow him down. He leapt over Seamus to grab the bear and haul him back.
Seamus, gaining his feet, joined him. As he did, Tiger barreled into the room, planted his paws on the bear’s back and dragged him to the floor.
The bear fought a while longer, weaker now, then collapsed and lay still, panting. The two lions were bloody, and blood gushed from the bear’s thick neck and throat where Seamus had got him. Tiger kept his immense paws on the bear, holding him in place.
Walker was inside now, sighting over the barrel of a rifle. “Tranq,” he said. “Get out of the way.”
Before Seamus or Tiger could move, the feral beneath them shifted to human.
Sean got off him and backed away. Tiger remained but sat down on his haunches, as though conceding that it was Seamus’s victory. Seamus, still lion, held the man in place.
The Shifter was about Seamus’s age in both human and Shifter terms. His shaggy, unwashed hair and lines on his face made him look older, as did the haunted light in his eyes. Most of what Seamus saw was craziness, a mind that had lost sanity, though a spark of the original man remained.
“My ... cub.”
The voice was cracked, barely understandable. Katie moved in Bree’s arms, and Bree drew a sharp breath. “He means Katie.”
The bear glared up at Seamus, angry, maddened, and grief-stricken. “Mine.”
Seamus slowly shifted back to human. He kept a firm hold of the man, prepared to fight again if he had to. Francesca, still wolf, took up a stance at Seamus’s side, also ready.
Katie was struggling to get down. Bree, after exchanging a look with Seamus, set Katie on her feet.
The little bear closed the small distance between herself and the Shifter. She looked down at him as he lay on the floor, her mouth coming open in a little growl of both greeting and distress.
“My cub.” The man’s voice was weaker but clearer. “I found ...” He put out one scarred, broken-nailed hand and touched her head. “My ... daughter.”
Katie lay down on her stomach and rested her chin on the man’s shoulder. There was no way she could recognize him, Seamus thought dimly. They’d found Katie when she was only a day or two old, and she’d known no parents but Francesca and the other Shifters in Kendrick’s group.
But she seemed to know, without words, without being old enough even to shift to human yet, that this Shifter was her father.
He was completely feral. He’d nearly killed Katie trying to get to her, had ripped apart the human hunters without remorse, had done his best to kill Seamus. Saving him, if they could
, would be tricky.
Some sanity flickered in the bear’s eyes. He caught Seamus’s hand. “Take care of her. Promise me.”
Seamus nodded, clasping the hand that was scarred and bloody. “Like she was our own.”
“Thank ...”
Then reason in his eyes died, and the red glare returned. The man snarled, the bear coming back.
Katie scampered away in alarm and hid behind Cherie’s grizzly bear legs. A white streak buzzed behind Seamus, Olaf rushing to join the bears and Bree. Not from fear, Seamus sensed in amazement. Olaf had flung himself in front of them, the little polar bear ready to protect the females.
“Sean!” Seamus called.
Sean was there at once, in human form, the huge sword of the Guardian in his hands. The feral struck out at Seamus, his hands bear claws, then he fell back, spent, blood gushing from his torn throat.
Sean raised the sword high and brought it down, straight into the bear’s heart.
The feral cried out, a keening that shattered the air. Then the bear shuddered once, whispered, “Thank you,” let out a little sigh, and died.
His body shimmered like dust motes in sunshine, and then with a hiss, he disintegrated to nothing. A breath of wind stirred the dust and ashes, and all was silence.
Katie came out from under Cherie, sat down on her haunches, and howled. Her nose lifted to the sky, her grief clawing at Seamus’s heart.
Francesca’s howl twined with Katie’s, Francesca mourning the loss of a fellow Shifter. The Shifters inside and outside of the house joined the cry, a shared sound of grief that one had been taken from them too soon.
Sean bent his head over the sword, his chest moving with his distressed breath. Seamus flowed back into his lion, and roared.
Seamus absorbed the grief of them all—Katie, Francesca, Sean, all the Shifters—pouring it back out in his own voice, feeling himself breaking apart.
A warmth stole through the terrible pain, the feeling of arms around him. Bree had come to his side and wrapped herself around his lion’s body, burying her face in his mane.
The touch of a mate. The weight of her against him, her nearness, soothed the pain, grief, and madness. Anything feral in Seamus flowed away and was gone.
Seamus shifted back to his human form, closed Bree into his arms, and held on tight.
***
No one knew the bear’s name, where he came from, or what his clan was. The next morning, Bree saw the compassion of the Shifters as they gave this crazed, unnamed, wild bear a send-off to the Goddess.
All of Shiftertown gathered in the green behind the Morrisseys’ bungalow, forming concentric circles around the brazier in the middle. Seamus held Katie while Francesca placed the wooden box that contained the bear Shifter’s ashes onto the flames.
“God and Goddess, receive thy child,” Liam Morrissey said, his voice hushed, his face sober.
Another collective howl went up, this one more subdued than had been the cries of grief last night. The feral bear had fought for his cub and fought well. Now he deserved his rest.
Seamus walked back to Ronan’s house with Bree, the two of them hand in hand. Bree had borrowed clothes from Carly this morning, a gray top and pencil-thin black pants that Carly couldn’t wear at the moment. Bree’s Shifter-groupie look was gone.
Seamus had set Katie down to walk on her own. She was accompanied by her now-faithful Olaf, as his polar bear cub. Francesca was never more than a step away from them, and Rebecca and Walker kept near as well. Katie would be well cared for here, Bree concluded.
Seamus was much more at ease with himself today than Bree had seen him be so far. Last night after the cleanup from the fight, she and Seamus had fallen back into bed, touching, kissing, and drifting into hard slumber.
They’d woken curled around each other, aware and wanting, but Ronan had banged on the door and told them the ritual to send the bear to the Goddess would start immediately.
No time to talk, to kiss very much, or to make wild love as Bree wanted to.
And who knew if they’d ever have time? Now that the threat to Katie was gone, what would Seamus do? Would Bree have any part of his decision? His life?
Or would she go back to being new girl in town, trying to find a job at a mechanics shop where they might let her do more than just the paperwork and making the coffee? Trying to take care of her mom, grieve for her brother, and forget she’d ever met the hot-bodied man with lion eyes.
Nope, forgetting Seamus was out of the question.
Seamus’s hand tightened on hers as they neared Ronan’s house. He knew this was journey’s end as much as she did, and that decisions would have to be made.
Dylan was waiting for them in the big dining room. So was Tiger, with Carly. Tiger was human now, his eyes as golden as Seamus’s. He’d pulled his chair next to Carly’s and had his arm around her, as though daring anyone to try to keep them apart.
“Hey, sweetie,” Carly said to Bree as she dropped into the chair Seamus pulled out for her. “You all right?”
“Tired.” Bree tried not to feel empty when Seamus left her and went to Sean, who’d accompanied them here.
Rebecca, Bree’s mother, and Ronan’s mate, Elizabeth, came out of the kitchen with plates piled with muffins, scones, and other good things. They set them out, Nadine fussing a little, which Bree knew meant she was jonesing for a cigarette. She wouldn’t smoke around the cubs or Carly, but her fingers kept twitching.
Nadine stopped to smooth Bree’s hair and kiss the top of her head. “Don’t worry, honey. We’ll go home, and you can have a hot bath and sleep all day. At least, until the hammering starts. That Dylan said he’d send his Shifters over to fix the attic and the ceiling. Isn’t that nice of him?” She plopped into the chair next to Bree. “Of course, I’ll believe it when I see it. Repairmen always say they’ll show up, and then you wait three days.”
“I think they’ll come,” Bree said. Shifters kept their word.
“Well, I’m just glad Remy was there to help out. I told you he was.”
Bree hid a sigh. “It was a broken water pipe, Mom.” Or had it been? If so, it had broken at a very convenient moment. Bree decided it would be nice to believe, with her mother, that Remy was still watching over them. One day, she’d take Seamus up to the attic with her to investigate—ask him about his theory that the house was on a ley line with a gate to the Fae lands ... That is, if he was around for her to ask.
Nadine shrugged, reaching for a scone and tearing it open on one of the little plates Elizabeth was handing around. “You see it your way; I see it mine.”
Bree decided not to argue with her. She’d let her mother be comforted by Remy’s presence—real or imagined. And with the weirdness they’d experienced the last couple days … well, who knew?
Dylan cleared his throat. He barely made a sound, and yet all conversation ceased and all eyes turned to him.
“Sean,” Dylan said to his son. “What did you find out?”
“That Seamus is our clan,” Sean said. Pride rang in his voice. “A cousin—very distant—and from Scotland, but we can forgive him for that in time.” He grinned. “The Guardian network doesn’t lie.”
Seamus said nothing. He didn’t look happy to be included in the Morrissey family, but not unhappy either. Bewildered and in shock was a better way of putting it, Bree decided.
“What about the bear?” Dylan asked.
“He could have been one of many, unfortunately,” Sean said. “Those who didn’t take the Collar and were left to themselves often went feral. But Katie’s mum, she was a bear from a clan up in Manitoba, from a Shiftertown. She’d run off with this un-Collared bear, and the Shiftertown didn’t know where. Poor lass obviously didn’t make it in the wild, and Katie’s father already must have been on his way to feral, or the mum wouldn’t have died alone. Seamus found Katie ... and the rest we can guess. The father went looking for Katie, couldn’t find her, since Kendrick’s Shifters were so good at hiding. But he couldn’t
give up, no matter how long it took.”
Seamus drifted from him to stand behind Bree. His warmth cushioned her, the chair moved with his strength as he rested his hands on its back.
“Not all un-Collared Shifters go feral,” Seamus said in a quiet voice.
“We know that,” Sean said. “I mean, we’re learning that. Knowing more about you would help us a lot.”
Seamus’s hands tightened on the chair. “I’m not a lab rat. That’s one reason we refused to come in twenty years ago—the experiments. Dissections.” Francesca made a noise of agreement.
“No, no,” Sean said quickly. “Shifters don’t do that to other Shifters. You’re family now. And Francesca and Katie, our guests. You’re welcome in Shiftertown as long as you want to be here. No Collars. No needles. No drugs.”
Tiger gave Sean a growl, as though reminding him, You got that right.
Broderick, who’d come in with Dylan, asked the question Bree wanted to. “What about Seamus thinking he was going feral? He was really worried about it. I was too, if you want to know.”
“Not feral,” Tiger said at once. “More like me.”
“Oh, great,” Broderick grimaced. “You mean he’s another crazy?”
Tiger growled again, but more in a mock-threatening way, as though the two went back and forth like this all the time.
“I’m not sure,” Dylan said, his blue eyes on Seamus. “I’ve never met one, and I might be wrong.” His gaze sharpened. “I think you, son, are a Shifter empath.”
Seamus went completely still. “What the hell is a Shifter empath?”
Dylan didn’t look away. “You pick up the emotions of other Shifters. Use them to help the other Shifter—either by drawing it off, or at least understanding what they’re going through. You weren’t becoming feral. You were perfectly fine when you were in Bree and Nadine’s house with us. You knew there was something wrong at your safe house in the middle of nowhere when your normal Shifter instinct said you were safe. Francesca didn’t notice the problem, did she?”
Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set Page 13
