“My folks used to talk about entire blocks of the city shutting down for parties. Neighbors coming together and letting the kids run wild on summer days, fun and games. You know, the shit you see in movies idolizing the bygone era,” she gestured dramatically. “But no one does that anymore. Everyone keeps to themselves. I don’t think I ever met my neighbors the entire time I lived on my own in Atlanta. Closest to this was the few times we made it to the state fair. But even then, it was small groups keeping to themselves. While here...”
“Everyone knows each other.”
“Yeah. Exactly. So we’re eating here, together, but I’ve counted at least five people who nodded or lifted their fingers to you in greeting.”
He had his place in the world. A clan to clean up after. Men who supported him no matter the trouble that showed up looking for him.
Sloan shrugged to scratch at the itch of feeling like an outsider. Human on the shifter squad, human in a shifter town. “So, different. Not sure how I feel about losing my anonymity. Especially when I am who I am.”
“Agent Kent,” he said without accusation.
“Agent Kent,” Sloan agreed.
“To becoming Sloan.” He raised his beer and clinked it with hers. “You’re here, no uniform, chowing down on the same pulled pork that they all eat at least once a month. It’s not an overnight change, but it’s something.”
“That easy?”
“Not easy, no,” he grunted. “Took me years and I still don’t feel part of them sometimes.”
“Does that ever make you want to pack up and leave? Start fresh somewhere else?”
He looked out over the crowd of shifters and humans and whoever else mingled in with the press of bodies. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t want to give this place up.”
She was beginning to feel the same.
After they finished eating, he led her toward the booths filled with arts and crafts. The real, true Bearden, he described them. And like the food court staffed by a majority of local options, the people of Bearden had their own items to sell. Everything from wood carvings to paintings of the landscape to freshly potted plants—both decorative and consumable—were available for anyone interested.
The town was lively, she could see that. And just like any other population she’d encountered. So what if they had some extra power in their blood, or growled a little more, or needed a fresh, consenting vein to survive? They still needed to eat and drink, still tried to make the world beautiful, and still wanted to party.
“And there’s something like this multiple times a year?” Sloan asked as the afternoon slid toward evening.
Space at one end of the town square cleared out and a crew hauled musical gear into the gazebo. They even joined wood boards together to construct a dance floor over the grass.
“About once a month, give or take. Not nearly this big. This is one of the major festivals. Firsts usually get some—first calves born, first rain, first snow. Graduations. Any excuse to stop the town for the day and get together, they take it.”
They were crazy. In a good way.
“Fireworks display tonight.” He bumped her shoulder. “If you’re into that.”
“Mmm. What trouble are you planning under the cover of darkness?”
A wicked smile hitched up one corner of his mouth. “Oh, all kinds.”
Lorne pulled her close. All the light touches and heated glances culminated in that breath of a moment, right before he bent his face to hers. Gold eyes caught hers, looking for any sign of resistance or hesitation. He sipped at her lips gently, taking his time to reacquaint himself with her. Sloan balled her fists in his shirt and steadied herself against him.
He felt more real than the few men that professed to love her. How quickly she’d grown comfortable with him. Maybe because they’d done away with any idea of him being an informant. He’d taken on the role of a friend.
A very hot, very available friend.
He was quieter than most men she’d been with. Mysterious. But attentive and caring. He didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered that she carried a gun to work. Probably because he was half-beast himself and didn’t need to worry about being manhandled by a girl.
Lorne pulled back suddenly, nostrils flaring and entire body going stiff. Sloan glanced up, only to find him glaring over the top of her head. She whirled around and tried to find what distracted him.
There.
She recognized the face before he turned away.
Ian Bennett.
Lorne stared after him. “I need to take care of something,” he muttered.
“I’m going with you.”
“Sloan, you need to stay out of this. It has nothing to do with you.”
The order grated on her. Sloan narrowed her eyes. “Well, we either go together, or I follow you. Your choice.”
Lorne growled, but nodded. Without another response, he pushed through the crowd and after Ian.
They followed him through the stalls of food and games, though he seemed to have a destination in mind and didn’t try to throw their tail. If anything, the pauses and sly looks over his shoulder were making sure he was noticed.
The hair on the back of her neck raised with uncertainty the moment they spotted Ian pass through the door of The Roost.
Lorne didn’t pause and didn’t notice her hitched step. Sloan quickly ran down a mental list of who worked extra security that day, then typed out a message and sent it to August. She just had to keep eyes on the man until backup arrived. She had no way to contain him herself if he put up a fuss. Silver cuffs and her badge had been left at home.
Stay out of it? Not when a family had already been hurt. Not when the man possibly responsible was seated at the town’s main bar, looking smug as hell.
Ian threw his arms wide as soon as they pushed through the door. “What, no hello for your cousin?”
Their steps sounded loud as they crossed over the wooden floorboards. The place was empty save for a few faces, most everyone electing to spend their boozing time out in the fair. A lone man stood guard at the bar, black hair mussed and fiery eyes carefully watching Ian.
“You never should have come here, Ian,” Lorne said almost sadly.
“Never should have done a lot of things, you know that. But here we are. Ain’t no changing the past.”
Sloan quirked an eyebrow and tried to parse the conversation. Layers of history existed between the men. She could almost smell the animosity.
“You banging this one?” Ian pointed at her with the mouth of his bottle. “You always had a thing for humans.”
“Leave her out of this.” The tinge of sadness left Lorne’s voice until only a deep, gravelly growl exited his lips.
As much as she appreciated the sentiment, the words raised her hackles. Sloan shifted from foot to foot and glowered at both men. She didn’t need Lorne’s protection.
Ian shrugged, wolfish smile on his face. “No matter. We drove one off before. We can do it again.”
“No.”
“What? You’re not picking her, are you? Over your own flesh and blood?” Ian poked a hard finger into Lorne’s chest. “You’re a Bennett. You belong with us.”
Lorne slapped away Ian’s hand. “I haven’t been one of you in years. You need to get out of here, Ian. You never should have tried to find me.”
“Yeah, you keep saying that.” Ian pushed to his feet. They were nearly the same height. Same dark hair, same dark eyes. Both flashed with gold at that moment. “We have unfinished business.”
The air felt heavy. Nothing changed that she could see or hear, but goose bumps rose up and down her arms. Even her heart struggled to beat under the weight of whatever pressed down upon the room.
Her fingers twitched to find any kind of weapon. A fight was coming. She could feel it in her bones.
August and Crewe stepped through the door, their shift on duty marked by the uniforms they wore and the serious looks on their faces as they zeroed in on the little party.
They looked like twins, giving her the tiniest of nods.
The air didn’t change. If anything, the press worsened.
Crewe and August sauntered over, one blocking an easy path to the door with a smooth lean against the bar.
“Ian Bennett, you need to come with us,” Crewe said softly.
“What the fuck for?” Ian demanded loudly.
So much for not making a scene.
Lorne whipped around to her. Anger coated his expression. For Ian or for her, she wasn’t sure.
“What did you do?” he growled.
She lifted her chin defiantly. “My job.”
“We have some questions for you,” August answered smoothly. “Don’t make this more difficult on yourself.”
“Difficult? You fuckers don’t have the right to take me anywhere.”
Crewe looked bored. “Sir, if you don’t come peacefully, we’ll be forced to remove you.”
“Fucking traitors. You like sucking the dick of Big Government? Do you know what they consider us? Expendable.”
“Like that poor bastard you bit into?”
Ian grinned. “Not anymore.”
“Shit, that sound like a confession to you?” August asked.
“Sounds like it to me.” Crewe grabbed Ian by the collar. “Ian Bennett, you’re taking a ride with us.”
“He’s my problem,” Lorne spat out, still focused on her.
Sloan slid between him and the others. She pressed a hand to his chest and flung his words back in his face. “Stay out of it.”
Lorne turned cold eyes on her. “He needs to be put down,” he said between gritted teeth.
“Same as you, cousin!” Ian shouted over his shoulder. August and Crewe marched him through the door.
Sloan took a step back from Lorne, feeling like she’d been slapped. “Is that what you planned to do with him?”
“If he couldn’t be made to see reason.” Lorne stared down his nose at her. “You’re not like us. You don’t understand. When an animal goes rabid, the only option is to kill it before it kills someone else.”
Hatred whipped off him and socked Sloan in the gut. Dangerous man, that was Lorne. He kept up a careful exterior, but there was darkness inside him when the mask slipped.
“What happened between you two?” she asked on a breath.
“Enough that you should stay away.”
On top of all her problems, the assholes that made her move, the ones who still wanted to make her miserable, she had to learn that her one bit of solace wasn’t even that. Lorne had a past, too, and one that didn’t seem all that savory.
Unfinished business, Ian said. Drove one off before.
The words scratched at the back of her mind. Outsider, that was all she’d ever be.
Lorne wanted to play at showing her around, but that was all it was—play. Because when it came down to it, he was just another shifter protecting his own. They didn’t believe in the same kind of justice. She was too human, and he was too much a shifter.
Sloan took a step away from him. Then another. Something ripped apart inside her the more distance she put between them.
Necessary.
“You know where to find him,” she said over her shoulder as she followed August and Crewe out the door.
She had a suspect to question.
Chapter 10
Lorne laced his fingers behind his neck and watched the whirlwind blow through his life and leave him with nothing.
One minute, and he’d been having the time of his life. The next, and his family ripped him apart all over again.
The Bennett clan hadn’t forgotten about him, that much was clear from the words that dripped out of Ian’s mouth. Not that he had hope for anything else. They held fast to their grudges. They lived by their martyr complexes. When they needed a convenient sacrificial lamb, he was there to be slaughtered.
Unfinished business. Yeah, there was that. And now Ian knew who Sloan was, even rode in the same vehicle as her. He’d inhale her scent, learn all the fine notes, and track her down when it came time to do away with the threat.
Just like he and the others had done with Lilah.
Lorne growled and banished the sick and sour remembered scent of her fear from his mind. Lilah hadn’t deserved any of the harm they’d visited upon her. But like Sloan, he’d been the one to put her in their sights.
His fists tightened at his sides. He’d killed once before to save the life of an innocent. He wasn’t above doing it again, much as it’d tear the remaining good pieces of himself apart. He wasn’t destined to live a whole or happy life. Fate had other plans for him, it seemed.
And Sloan. Tough, stubborn, gorgeous Sloan. She didn’t understand his world. She put too much faith in her human systems of law and order. They were animals. Territorial beasts with laws of their own.
She’d be better off without him. He wouldn’t let any of his family foam at the mouth near her.
He didn’t want her tears to follow him to the grave.
Best if he cut ties and let her retreating back be the last he saw of her.
His head pounded with a sudden ache behind his eyes. His bear pushed forward, slicing and chomping at him to let go of his control.
Lorne pressed his hands to his stomach and took a deep breath. It didn’t help in the slightest.
His inner beast won out and forced a fresh round of sendings through his head.
Sloan, happy. Sloan, with laughs just for him. Sloan, with a scar on her shoulder proclaiming she was mated.
He’d accepted his lot in life before she barreled into him. He’d been prepared to face his fate. Now, though, his bear wasn’t so willing to roll over and call it quits.
One final scene pushed through. Blood covered him. Ian’s body lay at his feet.
Fight back, was the sentiment.
Head still feeling like he’d pressed himself between a vice, Lorne stomped off toward the area set aside for the rodeo competition. His skin felt too tight and his shoulders were solid masses of muscle that wouldn’t give. He wanted to shift. He wanted to get the fuck away from all the people that had descended on Bearden.
He silently swore when he caught sight of the clan huddled together, almost like they knew exactly where to be to cause him more trouble. Joss held a stuffed bear as large as herself. Ethan and Tansey picked at a stick of pink and blue cotton candy. Jesse, Hunter, and Alex nursed beers and shot the shit.
Every last one of them turned worried eyes on him as he blasted forward.
“Where have you been?” Alex grumbled. “You missed the awards.”
Awards? Fuck awards. He didn’t give a shit about a shiny trophy when the rest of his world was black and dull. He’d agreed to compete after hours of badgering and before Ian showed his ugly mug. He’d gone through with it when he had solid plans to meet up with Sloan.
Now it all seemed so... worthless.
Lorne blew past the group. He needed to collect his horse and get back to the ranch, maybe out of town. Put as much distance as he could between himself and Sloan. Draw Ian and any other Bennetts away.
“Was that her? The one?” Tansey demanded as she stumbled after him, struggling to keep pace.
Lorne grunted.
The one. His idiot bear liked the sound of those words. His human half knew better.
“Where is she now?” Joss asked softly.
The question stopped them in their tracks. Pity clouded their collective scent.
“Lorne, slow it down a minute,” Jesse rumbled. He went so far as to reach for him, brushing a palm over his shoulder.
Lorne jerked out of the touch and made a beeline for the competitors’ horses. He didn’t want, or need, any of their reassuring touches, dammit. He just needed to be alone.
Nova nickered softly when he opened the makeshift stall door. Her ears flicked in all directions as he led her out and used her big body to block off the questions fired at him. He twisted the lock on the horse trailer and let down the ramp, then led h
er inside.
He turned to head back and collect the rest of his tack, but found Hunter already there with saddle and blankets in hand. Those found their place in the trailer and he shut the door with a thud.
“Give him space,” Tansey muttered somewhere in the background.
Smart woman. No wonder she’d snagged Ethan’s eye. She had to be on the lookout for any danger that came for their clan.
Right that moment, danger radiated off Lorne. His bear prowled just under the surface, waiting to lash out.
In silence, he slid behind the steering wheel of his truck and turned the engine over. He needed to disappear.
Lorne shook hard by the time he whipped around the final bend of the ranch road and pulled up to the barn. Whatever his problem, he owed it to the innocent creature in the trailer to get her home. She wasn’t responsible for any of the tightness in his chest.
Nova whinnied as soon as he ripped open the back of the trailer and urged her down the ramp. Other horses peeked over the edges of their stalls when he led her through the doors and settled her in her place. With a final pat on the neck, Lorne turned and slipped back into the night.
The skies were clear, which felt unfair. He wanted storms and winds whipping around him in a violent tempest. He wanted something outward to reflect the turmoil within him.
Lorne let his bear have his skin. Pops and cracks tore his human shape apart and reformed him into something wild. Fur slid out of his pores and settled in a thick coat along newly formed limbs. Claws cut into the earth, curved and ready for action.
Except he had no one to fight but himself.
Lorne growled into the darkness, and ran.
Time faded into nothing as he plowed forward. Across the ranch, off Black Claw territory, he ran until he hit the river and turned further into the mountains. He needed the scent of woods and trees around him. They smelled nothing like the dust of home and he wanted as little reminder as possible of those horrid years.
Breaking Fate: Book Three: Black Claw Ranch Page 8
