by Lowe, Anna
“We would like you to take your place among us.” Gwenafar reached out a hand, clasped Rebekah’s limp fingers. “You’re a strong woman, and an asset to the community. You know we need our gene pool expanded to avoid sterilization. Before our young males look outside the community, the Council prefers they choose from those humans among us who are already allies. It makes so much more sense.”
Rebekah closed her eyes a moment, fingers flexing in Gwenafar’s hold. “Damn, Grams. I wasn’t planning on doing the whole mate and cubs thing – at least not this soon.”
She opened her eyes to see a dark brow rise. Gwenafar’s pale face was unlined, but the years had threaded her coffee brown hair with silver and she’d cut it shoulder length to manage better. The silver was so evenly spaced, so glossy, it was almost as if she’d had it done at a salon. The Bear certainly didn’t look like a human’s idea of a grandmother. But Bears aged differently and rarely looked old – even if they were.
“You’re thirty in four years. I hardly think this qualifies as a rush to the altar.” Gwenafar paused. “I have an offer for you. Not quite in the community, but I think a suitable match nonetheless.”
“What?” Rebekah stared, a rush of anger tightening her jaw. “It’s one thing to talk to me about it – but you went behind my back and actually arranged a mating?”
Gram’s expression cooled. “The discussions are preliminary, but my initial reports are very positive. An older male – despite what I said, I really don’t think any of the Conroy males would suit you, you need someone more worldly – with his own business, from a small but healthy Den.”
“Did you tell Dad about this?”
Gwenafar paused. “When he returns from his trip-”
“Did you tell Dad?”
Her lips thinned. “I’m not required to consult a Den Alpha regarding matters that concern the Mother’s Council. It’s our responsibility to ensure the young ones are properly mating and producing healthy cubs. It’s Liam’s job to-” she waved a hand. “-keep the males entertained until it’s time for them to settle down.”
Rebekah snorted. A Den Alpha’s job was a little more complicated than that, and she was certain a Clan Alpha’s job would be even more complicated. Liam did a hell of a lot more than keep the male Bears in the Den out of mischief.
“I’m not ready for-”
“You owe us, Rebekah.”
She shut her mouth, staring at the female she called grandmother. The mother of the male she called Dad. She didn’t call Meredith Mom cause their relationship had always been more of an older sister type thing, especially when Rebekah was younger. Her relationship with Harvey, Meredith’s father who’d been incarcerated for murder most of his daughter’s childhood, was more complex. He’d saved her life once, but even all these years later, he wasn’t that emotionally stable. She and Meredith maintained a careful, if cordial, communication with him. It helped that Liam was a Bear, and the Den Alpha.
“I-”
“Liam took you in. Raised you. The Den welcomed you as one of ours. We’ve protected you from your biological family, included you in our ceremonies and community.”
“And you did all that expecting me to pay you back?”
Hard eyes didn’t waver. “I will expect no less from my biological granddaughters when they are of age. You happen to be the eldest and therefore the one tasked with creating a good example of selfless, responsible conduct for a young female of reproductive age.”
“I think I’m worth a little more than to be your broodmare.”
Gwenafar snorted. “We are female. None of us is above providing our Clan with cubs. It is our first, and most important, responsibility. The burden and privilege of our gender.” The Elder rose from her seat. “Well?”
“Damn, you want me to give you an answer now?”
“There’s really only one answer you can give and still live with your conscience. And this is not an attempt to bully you – I know you.”
Goddamnit. Rebekah picked up a third cupcake. “I’m not having a baby right away. And if I don’t like him, I’m not-”
“Of course not.” Gwenafar patted her cheek. “No one expects you to mate a male you don’t like. If this one isn’t suitable, we’ll find you another. Unless you have a beau you haven’t said anything about? No? Well, we’ll do it the old-fashioned way then. It will be fun.”
Fun.
Chapter Two
Daamin heard his mother’s ringtone over the noise of the club. Glancing at his sister as she handled a customer, he activated the discreet Bluetooth in his ear.
“Yes, Mother?”
“Your sister hasn’t come home for dinner.”
Asiane’s eyes flickered toward him. She heard the controlled anxiety in the older female’s voice as well.
“Asiane is at work, Mother.”
“No, she isn’t. I drove by the cafe and the nice human man with the orange hair told me she isn’t even on schedule tonight. She’s missing, Daamin. You must find her. What if the-”
“We are safe here, Mother.” He had to cut off that line of thinking, and quickly. It would do the females of his Den no good to worry about enemies at every turn. He’d prepared the older girls as best he could – and Asiane was not defenseless. The younger girls he could only keep as close to their home and wrapped in the layers of security his company provided.
Five sisters, and he was the only son. The oldest of his mother’s cubs and tasked with protecting his sisters from their enemies. He needed more help. He needed a mate.
“Mother, have the girls had dinner yet?”
His question distracted her for a moment. “Yes, Talia made dolmas and Faridah did a salad – an American salad. There is barely any green in it. Daamin, where are you? I’ll have one of your males bring me and we can-”
“No, Mother.” Asiane would have to tell mother about the club acquisition sooner or later. Mother couldn’t keep thinking her eldest daughter worked in a coffee shop. “We need you home to take care of the girls and back up security if there is any trouble.” A Mama Bear was a Mama Bear, after all, even if she had no formal martial arts training. She still has claws, and teeth.
A human male sitting at the bar eyed Daamin sideways. He hadn’t bothered lowering his voice since he was speaking in the rolling, lilting vowels of his homeland. The man looked spooked – probably all the nonsense on television these days. Daamin bared his teeth in a smile and the man slid off his stool and left. Daamin tracked his movements, watching to make sure he wasn’t headed towards security.
“You should speak English,” Asiane said, wiping the counter. “The Arabic frightens them.”
“They’re stupid.”
“They’re scared.”
“Who are you talking to, Daamin?” Mother asked. “And what is all that music I hear? Are you at a party?”
“I’m at a club, Mother. I’ll bring Asiane home, don’t worry.”
“Is that Asiane I heard? At a club?” Daamin winced as high-pitched indignation permeated Mama’s voice. “A club is no place for an unmated female.”
“We’re in America, Mother. The rules here are different.”
“I won’t have my daughter working at a bar.” Worry fled, Mama Bear’s voice deepening to a growl. “Put her on the phone.”
“She’s busy. We’ll be home soon and we’ll discuss it.”
It would only be a matter of time before the issue came up anyway. He hadn’t actively lied to his mother; he just hadn’t volunteered any information. His sister didn’t look worried, though. Which she wouldn’t be, being nearly as dominant as himself. He sighed. When Asiane told her, he’d simply pick a seat in a small corner and stay out of the way of any flying debris. He might be dominant, but he was no fool. And only a fool would come between two hissy females.
Asiane snorted, black eyes glittering with a combination of mirth and derision. He agreed to a point, which was why he escorted her to her shifts at the club and assigned a guard on the days h
e couldn’t sit through her shift with her.
Mother would probably be even more upset if she knew Asiane was the owner and not just the bartender. He assured Mother they’d be home soon and disconnected the call.
“Distract her with Winter Solstice celebrations,” Asiane suggested. “She said she wanted to celebrate this year. Something about teaching the girls appreciation of the local customs.”
Daamin shrugged. He didn’t care one way or another, and since his work required he learn about the winter holiday celebrated by many shifters in this region as opposed to the human Christmas, he supposed he could appease Mama with a show of cooperation.
“The girls were upset I wouldn’t let them wear pointed hats and drink champagne for Al-Hijra. I think they have enough local ‘culture.’“
Asiane laughed. “You know Faridah and Talia want to go downtown for the American New Year? They think because they are eighteen they can be allowed out all over the city at night.”
Asiane’s disapproving glower was rather funny since at their age she’d been just as wild as the twins were turning out to be – and still was. She was his younger sister by only a few years, but his nerves felt the age difference.
“Maybe I’ll let them go with an escort. Or else they’ll just sneak out.” He eyed Asiane. As a male, he approved. As a brother and protector of their tiny Den – he winced. The black leather was fetching, and certainly very modern, but if she went home dressed like that, it would give Mother a heart attack. All that… bosom. “You’ll change before we go home, right?”
Asiane rolled her eyes. “Don’t I always? She was going to find out sooner or later. Why don’t you stop hovering over here like a bad movie bodyguard, and go find some human girl to nibble on for a few hours?”
“I’m a Bear, not a vampire.”
“Vampires don’t exist.”
Daamin snorted, eyes scanning the crowd. He’d probably take her suggestion. It was a quiet evening, and he needed something to distract him from business. From the email waiting in his account, answering his request to the Pacific Northwest branch of the Mother’s Council.
The email with the name of his arranged bride.
“Make me a drink,” he told Asiane. “Use the shifter stuff, not that human swill.”
She mixed him up something – he didn’t know what it was and didn’t care – and slid it toward him with sympathy in her face. And amusement. She knew he’d asked for a mate and had been both for and against the idea. And thought it was hilariously funny he was… nervous.
What male wouldn’t be? When the negotiations concluded, he would meet a female he’d never known, formally mate her, and then bring her home to the critical gaze of his traditional, highly conservative and controlling mother. He’d told the Council to find him a female with spine – a dominant if they could. Shifter, or human, since cross-species matings were highly encouraged these days.
“When will you meet her?” Asiane asked.
“I haven’t even opened her file yet.”
He took a long drink of the alcohol, liquid fire tearing down his throat. They hadn’t had such things in the country where his family had lived for generations. The home they’d fled because of civil war – both human and shifter. His old anger stirred, fangs pulsing with a need to rend something. Males at his home, demanding three of his sisters be given over to the Clan leader as mates for his males.
The fight had been brutal, their flight to America taxing on the younger girls. The only thing that saved them was he’d already had an escape plan in place, seeing the way the Clan males eyed his older sisters. Eyed Asiane, the most beautiful and strong-willed of them all. She’d bear an Alpha strong cubs – but she was his sister, and he’d die before he allowed any male to mate her against her will. When they’d started making formal inquiries of the twins, not yet out of secondary school… Daamin had known it was time to go. His bloodline had dwindled, too many allies now dead or moved away. Even the strongest Bear couldn’t fight an entire hoard of mate-hungry males on his own.
“Daamin.”
He looked up.
Asiane leaned towards him, brow furrowed. “You cool?” She’d switched to English, her accent nonexistent.
“I’m fine.”
“Good. Go skulk somewhere else, you’re scaring my customers away. If I see something sweet, I’ll send her your way. But no sex in my office.”
He blinked, offended. Did she think so little of his virtue? Of course, he wouldn’t take a female in his sister’s office.
Asiane rolled her eyes. “It was a joke, Daamin. Stick, meet mud. Now go.”
* * *
Rebekah entered the club, the bouncer waving her inside after a sniff. She’d paid a half rate because she was a girl and been handed a short list of rules. Basically, the look but don’t touch the shifters kind of rules. She gathered it was a shifter seeker kind of place – where non-humans got in free because they were the main attraction. The humans were probably the main paying customers.
Weaving through the late after-work crowd, Rebekah glanced around. Because she’d mostly grown up in restaurants, and because it was her job to notice lighting and set, she appreciated the sophisticated decor. Modern, black with touches of purple. Exposed ceilings and an entire feature wall of multi-colored rough stone. The seating was also ultra-modern and durable.
She approached the bar, waiting until the bartender approached.
“What’s your poison?” the female asked, a husky voice with the faintest trace of an accent.
Long, dark hair and bright dark eyes, the kind of perfect skin and contained energy Rebekah was used to seeing at home.
“You got any of the shifter stuff?”
The female’s eyes sharpened, giving Rebekah a thorough look. “You smell human. And you don’t look like a shifter seeker.”
What the bartender meant was Rebekah was mostly dressed, and not already trolling for a free drink. Her arms were bare despite the chill in the early winter air, showing off her sleeve of tattoos, and her jeans were dark and tight. But other than that, she hadn’t bothered with any of the usual female accoutrements. A real shifter male? They didn’t like makeup. The scent and taste of it was revolting, or so she’d been told plenty of times.
“That’s ‘cause I’m not, honey.”
The bartender leaned an arm against the counter, cocking a hip as if Rebekah were interesting. “This really isn’t a place you come to enjoy the scenery.”
The devil made her do it. “From where I’m sitting, the scenery looks just fine.”
The female blinked, then grinned, a slow saucy smile. “If I was pan, I’d be tempted, honey. So, you want some of the real stuff, huh?”
“My Dad always let me have a sip at Solstice in the eggnog, but now that I’m a big girl…”
The bartender smiled. “Something to put hair on your chest coming up.”
Rebekah turned, watching the crowd. The music reflected the age group of the clientele – patrons seemed to range from just out of grad school to early retirement age. Very few people were alone and most were in small groups.
“So,” she said when her drink was placed at her elbow, “if I was interested in a night of adventure, how would you suggest I go about it?”
The female paused. “Just a night, no strings?”
Rebekah took a sip of the drink, let the burn loll around the inside of her mouth. The good stuff. “Yeah. A last hurrah before an arranged mating.”
Dark eyes widened. “But you’re human.”
“Yeah. Adopted by a Den, though. The Mother’s Council-” Rebekah paused. “You a Bear?”
It wasn’t exactly a rude question, though it could be taken that way between strangers. The female didn’t seem offended though.
“You’ve got a good eye.” A slim hand reached out. “Asiane. This is my place.”
Rebekah clasped the hand. “Rebekah. And it’s a nice place you’ve got.” She grinned. “So in that case, any recommendations? And I
’m not talking about the drinks.”
Asiane laughed, then paused, lips pursing. “As a matter of fact…”
The mirth in Asiane’s face puzzled Rebekah, but she pointed through the crowd to a male. The male leaned against a wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd. A small circle of space around him, as if everyone knew he wasn’t there to party.
“Is that security?”
Asiane snorted. “In a way. I happen to know he’s available for the evening, and mostly sane. And not looking for a Claim, so you’re safe in that regard.”
Rebekah studied him. Tousled dark hair that needed a cut if he wasn’t going for the rakish look. Deep set dark eyes and good bones – the shifter kind. Something about the curve of his jaw and mouth seemed familiar. Rebekah glanced at Asiane. Back at the male.
“Are you pimping your own brother?”
The Bear glanced at her, brow raised. “You do have a good eye. That’s why I said ‘mostly sane.’“
Rebekah smiled. It sounded like something her youngest sister would say about their brother.
“Go say hi,” Asiane said. “Tell him dessert is on the house.”
Rebekah swirled the remainder of her drink, amused. She supposed she was the dessert. But if the male wasn’t an ass, and was as charming as the sister, she wouldn’t mind being dessert.
Rebekah slid off her stool. “Okay, but if I break his heart, don’t hunt me down.”
She walked away as Asiane laughed. The male glanced over, probably alerted by the sound of his sister’s amusement, and his eyes caught Rebekah’s.
Smiling, she sauntered towards him, relaxed and ready to indulge herself. If the Council had their way, this time next month she would be mated.
God help her.
Chapter Three
A female weaved through the crowd, the sway of her hips insouciant, occasionally flicking aside a hapless human with a subtle touch of a black-tipped claw. No – finger. Humans didn’t have claws. This one looked like she should. If he didn’t know better, he’d think her a cat of some kind, especially with the beginning of a self-satisfied smile curling her naked lips.
