“The Shifter you were talking to in the garage. Graham McNeil.”
He’d seen them? They’d been on the top floor of the parking garage, and Misty could have sworn no one else had been up there. Creepy.
“Oh, him,” she said. “I barely know him. Met him once or twice, that’s all.”
Kellerman smiled. He put an arm around Misty’s shoulders and started walking her toward a quiet corner. Very creepy.
“How would you like to do something for me?” Kellerman asked. “Something worth your while?”
Misty pulled away. “This might be a courthouse, but I’m not a prostitute on my way to a hearing. I’ve come to meet with my brother’s lawyers.”
“I know who you are, Ms. Granger.” Kellerman laughed a little, like she’d made a good joke. “What I’d like you to do is not illegal. I want you to get to know Mr. McNeil—Graham—a little better. And then tell me everything about him.”
Misty took a step back. “Make friends with him to spy on him? Why would I do that?”
“McNeil is a Shifter, and not a trustworthy one. He’s new around here, and I want to find out all about him.”
“Then ask him yourself.”
“I don’t think you quite understand, Ms. Granger.” Kellerman put his arm around her again, this time sinking his grip into her shoulder so she couldn’t pull away. “I know about your brother. I know about what he’s going through in prison. And I know members of the parole board, with whom I have much influence.”
Misty stopped, icy fingers touching her heart. “That’s…” She looked up into his cold face. “You’re evil.”
“Your brother committed a crime, for which he needs to pay,” Kellerman said in a matter-of-fact voice. “McNeil is dangerous and needs to be watched. You be my eyes and ears, and your brother might be released early. He can come home where he won’t be beat up every day.”
Misty found it difficult to breathe. She knew enough of the ways of the world to know she couldn’t readily trust him. If she said yes, if she helped this Kellerman, there was no guarantee he’d do what he promised for her little brother.
Kellerman was too slick, too sure of himself. He’d not bend over backward for a young man who’d made one stupid mistake at eighteen and was paying for it with an unfairly long sentence. She and Paul hadn’t been able to afford a good lawyer.
On the other hand, if Misty said no, a guy like Kellerman might make sure that Paul never got out of prison again. He’d have to stay in that place where gangs beat up on him every day, and no one did anything about it.
“Fine,” she snapped, ducking out from under his hand. “I’ll do it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
Kellerman took a thin card from his inside breast pocket. “Here’s my number. Call me when you have something to tell me. Make it soon.”
Misty snatched the card from his hand, jammed it into her purse, and clicked her way down the hall to the room at the end. She thought about Graham, the tall biker-looking Shifter, she thought about her gentle little brother Paul, and her heart hammered until she thought she’d be sick.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“But they didn’t spill what Shifters would be participating in?” Eric asked Graham that night.
“I told you six times. They didn’t seem worried about me finding out about the compound in the desert. Seemed happy when they realized I didn’t know what they were up to beyond that.”
Eric moved restlessly. He and Graham stood on Eric’s back porch in the cold darkness, the house lit behind him. Cassidy’s and Iona’s laughter drifted out, the two of them and Jace busy helping Jace move his stuff downstairs.
My mate, my mate, my mate. The words hummed through Eric’s head, drowning out Graham’s voice.
Eric still craved Iona with an intensity he hadn’t felt in many, many years. He wanted to be nowhere but curled up with her, buried inside her, surrounded by her warmth. Graham with his grating voice and Lupine scent was poor compensation.
“Damn it,” Eric said, heartfelt. “We’re going to have to search that compound again.”
“They were long gone this morning.”
“I know, but they might have left something behind.” Eric broke off and rubbed his temples.
“You okay, Warden?”
He shrugged. “No sleep.”
Graham barked a laugh. “That’s what happens when you chase a mate. You want to fuck all the time, no stopping for anything else. I loved it.”
Eric had found out everything he could on Graham, so he’d known that Graham had once had a mate. The information in the Guardian’s database had said that Graham’s mate had died trying to bring in his cub, and the cub had died as well.
Eric made a quick sign of blessing. “The Goddess go with them,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well.” Graham’s voice went quiet.
Sudden, terrible worry clutched Eric. Kirsten had gone bringing in Jace. Graham’s mate had died in childbirth. Iona was half-human, not even as robust as female Shifters.
Exactly why we agreed to live in Shiftertowns, Eric told himself. Better medical care, better nutrition, better chance of females surviving with their cubs. There hadn’t been many deaths in childbirth since they’d moved to Shiftertown. Things were different now.
Even so, the fear gripped him so hard that pain followed. A spark shot from his Collar. Oh no.
“Warden? What is wrong with you?”
Eric straightened up from where he’d sagged, but another spasm wracked his body, snakes of pain whipping through him.
“Get out of here,” he said to Graham.
“What the hell is up? You dying of something? Might as well concede leadership to me now, save yourself the trouble.”
Eric managed to remain upright and take two steps to reach Graham. “Get the fuck away from me. Stay away from my Shifters, my family, my mate. This is my Shiftertown, and I’ll never give it to you.”
Spittle came out with his words, landing on Graham’s biker vest. Eric’s finger slammed into Graham’s chest. “Do you understand? You will never win. I’ll kill you if you try.”
Eric’s Collar sparked a few more times, then went silent, controlled. But Eric couldn’t control the pain. Every muscle locked as agony raked through him. Eric fought it, jaw clenched, fists balled, making himself stay on his feet.
“You’re dying right in front of me,” Graham said.
“Fuck you. I’ll kill you.” Eric’s eyes went Shifter, the world taking on a red hue, his awareness stretching to every corner of it. “I’ll kill you now.”
He felt his body half shift, his teeth and claws emerging, his snarls filling the night. Graham’s Shifter reacted, his own claws bared, warning growls long and low. Eric knew Graham would never back down from him, not without a long and bloody fight.
Fine. Eric would kill him. Rip his body open and feast on his entrails. Eric could taste the hot blood pouring into his mouth, wanted it now. He snarled and launched himself at Graham’s throat.
He heard screams, his sister’s voice, then the harsher, human one of her mate. Then the note of fear in his son, his cub.
Eric had to protect his cub. He hadn’t been able to protect Kirsten. He’d failed. He had to protect this Shiftertown, everyone in it, all the cubs and the females, to make up for the fact that he’d let Kirsten die. Graham would never take that away from him. The wolf deserved to be torn apart.
“Eric.”
He felt the touch of his mate, her scent surrounding him, Iona fresh and clean like mountain heather.
“Eric, stop.” Her hands moved to his chest covered with leopard fur, which had split open his shirt. Her fingers stroked, soothed.
Eric’s Collar remained silent but the pain ground on, so much pain. It was killing him.
Graham was right—he was dying, but Eric would kill him first. He’d not leave his family at the mercy of Graham. The first thing the Lupine would do would be to kill off Eric’s pride, especia
lly his son, so that son didn’t challenge for leadership.
“Eric.”
Iona had her arms all the way around him. Cassidy and Jace stood to either side of him. Eric sensed and smelled them, though he couldn’t turn to look at them.
Graham had backed all the way off to the middle of the open yard. Shifters were coming out of houses to see what was going on—the bears from next door, the wildcat Shifters on the other side.
They sensed a dominance battle. Eric felt their curious excitement, the underlying tension that could explode into war at any excuse.
Graham, though, had his hands up. “Not the time and place. Let your mate take you inside. We figure out this human thing first, then we fight. All right?”
Eric lunged at him. Cassidy, Jace, and Iona tried to hold him back, but Eric topped all three in strength, even in this kind of pain. He threw them off and charged Graham.
Every inch of body language Graham threw out told Eric he didn’t want to fight right now, but too bad. Graham was finished.
Eric heard a muffled shot and then he couldn’t feel his leg. He stumbled as the rest of his body went numb, then a blackness rushed through him.
He looked over his shoulder to see Diego Escobar regarding him sternly over the barrel of a tranquilizer rifle.
“Sorry, Eric,” Diego said.
The world went dark as Eric hit the ground.
“Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Iona’s voice cut through the darkness a long time later.
Iona’s beautiful, dusky voice. Eric swam toward it, his need for her scattering the pain.
“Well, I’m no medic, lass. He told me he thinks it’s to do with the Collars, but I can’t be certain. I could dissect him and find out, but that would be a bit of an inconvenience for him, eh?”
Eric knew the voice—he’d met the Shifter a few times, but for the moment, the name wouldn’t come. No one from this Shiftertown. The man smelled Feline, lion probably. He was very strong, a clan leader at the least.
“No dissecting,” Iona said in a hard voice.
“I’m teasing you, lass. Sorry.”
“He does that,” another voice came, the crisp, clear one of a human woman. “He tries to be funny at all times.”
“It eases the tension,” the Irish voice said.
Irish. Eric remembered now. The Austin Shiftertown was run by a family of Irishmen. Their last name still swam out of his memory, but he recalled the brothers, one the Shiftertown leader, the other their Guardian.
“Liam,” he croaked.
“Ah, he’s still with us, is he? How’re you feeling, lad?”
Eric tried to wet his lips and found no moisture in his mouth. “What are you doing here?”
“You sent for me, didn’t you? Said you had a ceremony to perform, and oh, by the way, having a bit of trouble with your Collar.”
Eric pried open his eyes and looked into the very blue ones of the dark-haired Liam Morrissey. Liam wore a smile, as he often did, and his eyes held humor. But behind the man’s bonhomie lay a sharp mind and a powerful will.
Eric seemed to be lying in bed in Jace’s bedroom—what had been Jace’s bedroom. Covers were bunched over him and bright sunlight poured through the window, not helping his headache.
A phone call Eric had made this morning—no, yesterday morning—came back to him. Eric rubbed a weak hand through his hair. “I remember now.”
His entire being relaxed as Iona climbed onto the bed with him and sat cross-legged by Eric’s side. He reached for her hand, and she held his between hers.
Liam touched Eric’s Collar. “Looks intact. You try to take it off?”
“Take it off?” Iona asked at the same time Eric shook his head. “The Collars come off?”
“Carefully, slowly, painfully, and sometimes, disastrously,” Liam said. “Trust me on this. And that information goes no further than this room.”
“She’s my mate,” Eric said.
“I’m seeing that. You’re going to trust her with all things, are you?”
“I’ve already started.” Eric showing Iona their strong room was the first step. “She’ll be leader’s mate. I have to.”
“Aye, I know what you mean.”
The crisp female voice came again. “Leader’s mates are better at keeping secrets than any Shifters I know.”
“Iona,” Liam said. “This is Kim. The love of my life.”
“We met in the hall,” Iona said.
Eric remembered meeting Liam’s mate the last time he’d gone out to Austin, the short young human woman with the dark hair and no-nonsense attitude. Kim had been a defense lawyer, and now she ran a law firm that specialized in helping Shifters.
“No, I didn’t try to take off my Collar,” Eric said, strength beginning to return. “I’ve been able to keep it from going off when I fight, but not for long, and that’s about it.”
“And these attacks come when?”
“Seem to be all over the place. After I fight, yes, but other times too. Last night, on the porch with Graham. He wasn’t being aggressive, just his usual shithead self.”
“But he’s a threat,” Liam said. “To you, to Shiftertown, to Iona.”
“Yes.”
“What happened before the other attacks? Maybe not right before—say within the few hours before?”
“Whenever I fight,” Eric said, thinking back. But then, he’d had a huge attack after he’d gone to Iona’s house and seen her dancing at her sister’s bachelorette party. He’d taken Iona into her back hall and done many pleasant things. He told Liam this, omitting the glorious details. “The night after Graham Challenged for Iona as well,” he went on. “When I was remembering experiments done on me, I had a small attack, but it went away quickly.”
“Hmm,” Liam said. The man sat comfortably on the armchair Cassidy had brought into Jace’s bedroom, leaning back with his feet on the bed like he owned the place. Kim perched on the chair’s arm. “Seems to me like every attack came after an adrenaline spike. Fighting triggers it, sure, but when Graham Challenged, I bet the spike was a big one. And then when you thought about being experimented on, that had to be full of bad images.”
Iona broke in. “What about when he came to my house during the party? We were just kissing.” She flushed.
Eric’s smile was slow. From the twinkle in Liam’s eyes, the man guessed how much more they’d been doing.
“Ye said you saw her dancing with a male stripper,” Liam said. “I’m thinking that would raise the ire of a Shifter watching his mate.”
“You got that right,” Eric said. “I didn’t like it at all.”
“Stripper?” Kim asked in a bright voice. “What did he do? Did it all come off?”
“Most of it,” Iona said. “He came as a fireman. He got all the way down to his bright red thong.”
“Mmm. Did he have a hose?”
“A very long one,” Iona answered, and both women laughed.
“Tell me you took pictures,” Kim said.
“Oh yeah.”
Eric felt it immediately—the red rage of his possessiveness. He saw the same flare in Liam’s eyes.
“Ladies,” Liam said. “You want to get yourselves sequestered, do you?”
“Only if you bring us pizza,” Iona said.
“And dress as a fireman,” Kim added. She sent Iona a sly look. “With a big hose.”
“I think our mates don’t know their danger,” Liam said to Eric.
“They know,” Eric answered, feeling stronger by the minute. “But they don’t care.”
Liam growled at Kim. “Wait ’til I get you home, love.”
“Promises, promises.” Kim smiled.
“Adrenaline,” Eric said loudly. He pushed himself into a sitting position, the sheets bunching around his bare waist. He seemed to be naked under the covers, and sincerely hoped Iona had undressed him, not Diego. “Adrenaline is supposed to trigger the Collar. Maybe it’s triggering pain directly, bypassing the Collar?”
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“Possibly,” Liam said. “When I stave off the Collar, I pay for it pretty bad later, but you’ve been suffering from triggers that wouldn’t necessarily have set off the Collar at all.”
“Which leaves me where?”
“I don’t know.” Liam frowned. “I’ll have to ponder.”
Outside the room came a loud cry, a child’s voice. A cub. Kim quickly slid off the arm of the chair. “I’d better go get Katy before she takes over your house, or the entire Shiftertown.”
“Katy?” Iona asked.
Liam answered. “Katriona Sinead Niamh Morrissey. Our firstborn cub.”
“He’s so proud,” Kim said. “Like he did it all himself.” She leaned down and gave Liam a fond kiss on the forehead, then went for the door. “Come and meet her, Iona.”
Iona scrambled up and followed Kim with only one glance back for Eric. The door closed, and Eric looked around for some clothes within reach.
“The ladies like the babies,” Liam said.
“And you don’t? Right.” Eric leaned to the chair on the other side of the bed and snagged his jeans. “Why didn’t you bring your cub in with you? She might have cheered me up. Cubs are good things.”
“Bring me only daughter into a room with a crazed, maybe feral Shifter? No, thanks.”
“Feral.” Eric paused. “You think that’s what happening?”
“I don’t know, my friend. I sincerely hope not. I know from experience it’s not a pleasant thing. Thank the Goddess for my mate sticking with me when it happened to me, or I’d not be here talking to you now.”
“I know how you feel,” Eric said, and slid out of bed to get dressed.
“You narrowed it down to three?” Eric asked Xavier several hours later.
Xavier Escobar tapped his laptop where it sat on his crossed legs and nodded. “Yep. Three Ross McRaes of seemingly the right age living in the northern Nevada, or western California, western Oregon, or southern Idaho areas at the time in question. Two of them definitely human, because I found pictures of them, and they’ve aged like humans. The third—don’t know, because I haven’t found him. He’s the one from western California, residence listed as Grass Valley. Locals still there from that time say he was a loner, came and went, and they haven’t seen him in thirty or so years.”
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