Hour of the Lion

Chapter Twenty-two

Less than two weeks after starting as a cop, Vic walked her beat, nodding to the people strolling the sidewalk. She glanced into the bookstore. It felt good to see Thorson behind the counter, like the world was right again. Tough old bastard.

She turned away when her eyes started to burn and scowled at two men who stood in the center of the street pointing at the mountains. Fucking movie people. Apparently the town council had given permission for some idiotic film shoot next week, and the flakes had already begun to infiltrate Cold Creek to map out where they’d do each scene. The townspeople were all excited at playing “extras”. Vic shook her head. Having strangers around made her paranoid.

And not without reason. Swane and crew weren’t about to give up. But maybe the shifters would find them first. They’d traced the dead guys to Swane and then to a mobster named Tony Vidal. Long list of suspected crimes, only a couple of convictions. She’d seen his picture-Vidal was the suit.

The shifter cop in Seattle had people watching Vidal’s house and office, but the bastard had disappeared. Not good. Worry edged like a thin knife between Vic’s ribs. Wells would undoubtedly have obtained the information faster, but if the CIA found out about the shifters… The thought of Jamie on some laboratory dissecting table made her crazy.

The sun had managed to come out for the afternoon, warming the air to a pleasant temperature. In the center island, Halloween bats and ghosts dangled from the trees, dancing in the breeze. Outside of Baty’s grocery, a six-foot skeleton had replaced the wooden Indian, and Books’ display window sported cobwebs from every corner.

Cold Creek took Halloween seriously.

So did her two men. Alec usually surprised her with flowers, but this morning, she’d rolled over and come face to face with a dark leering skull, a hand-sized chocolate skull. She grinned. The idiot.

Both of them were crazy, smothering her with attention.

Calum made her coffee every morning, although he hated the stuff and only drank tea.

Alec had given her a new knife…one so well-made she’d slit open her thumb just testing it. Laughing, he’d bandaged her up and kissed her owie, then searched out every bruise and scratch to kiss them too.

After Calum found out she loved M &M’s, he brought out a bag one evening and given half to Alec. She had to provide a kiss for a yellow M &M, offer a breast for a red, and…dealer’s choice for the brown and green ones. Her nipples crinkled as she remembered all the various positions and things they’d had her do. Inventive bastards.

Yesterday, Calum had come into her bedroom as she was dressing. He’d pulled a dark red, incredibly soft cashmere sweater over her head, stroked his hand over her breasts, told her that her skin was softer than the cashmere-and somehow she’d ended up back in bed.

God, she was out-classed and out-numbered, and she still didn’t know what was going to happen. She cared about them-fuck-yeah, she cared-but they’d made no big I-love-you declarations. No one even mentioned the future.

Her stomach felt as if she’d swallowed a rock. Yes, they gave her attention, but was it because she was stuck in their home for the moment? Calum was so protective, he’d probably give a room to anyone in need, like he had with Thorson. Even worse, they acted so old-fashioned about women, they’d probably treat any…fuck-buddy…like they did her.

Her breath hitched as she realized that since they were old-fashioned, then if they were serious about her…well, they would have said so. Proposed or something. They hadn’t. She rubbed her arms, feeling chilled. Didn’t even realize you’d started making wedding plans, now did you, Sergeant? Pretty dumb. The men hadn’t made promises. They probably considered her just…just a roommate with benefits.

Okay. She straightened her shoulders. They weren’t the only ones enjoying the benefits. She was too. She simply needed to remember that’s all there would be.

“Hey, you! Yeah, you-the cop,” a woman shouted from the end of the block.

Vic stopped and almost looked around for a real police officer, but she was the only one downtown, so the lady was yelling at her. “Yes?”

“You’re off-duty.” A tall, lanky woman in tight jeans and sweatshirt walked toward Vic. “Let’s go have a drink.”

Vic recognized the woman’s scent before her appearance-and wasn’t that weird. “Heather!”

Heather put her hands on Vic’s shoulders and gave her a slow study, then a hard hug. “You don’t look too bad. Before you left, you looked like a horse that had been rode hard and put away wet.

“Thanks a lot.” God, it was good to see her. “I thought you worked down around Rainier.”

“I do.” Heather linked arms with Vic and steered her the other way down Main. “Daniel and I drove up for the Samhain Gathering.”

Gathering. That’s what Alec had called that orgy-style party in the tavern. Was that why the street was filled with so many people? “Where are you staying?”

“With Rebecca. She takes in boarders when something’s happening in Cold Creek; makes a few extra bucks.”

They turned down Aberdeen Street. Just behind Angie’s Diner, Heather halted at a Victorian bed and breakfast. “C’mon, we can use the side door.”

“Um. I’m still on duty. How about I come-”

“Like I said, your shift finished early today. Alec said so when he told me where to find you.” Heather shoved the door open, glanced back. “I have a six-pack of Calum’s fancy beer in the cooler. You in?”

“Definitely.” Vic followed her up the steep stairs to the second floor and down a hallway. With oriental carpeting in rich reddish tones and rose-bud wallpaper, the room had a feeling of lush warmth. “Wow.”

“Yeah. It’s my favorite room here.” Heather handed her a beer and pushed open the French doors. “Check this out.”

A wrought iron table and chairs barely fit on the spindle-railed balcony. Heather set her beer on the glass-topped table, sat down, and waved at the other chair. “Best place to people-watch in town, especially during Gatherings.”

The balcony was high enough to see over Angie’s low diner to Main Street. Vic sat and put her throbbing feet up on the railing. “I’m beginning to see why they call cops flat-feet.”

I think you’re crazy, Ms. Cop. Small pay, big risk, nasty people-what’s there to like?”

“Maybe because I get to beat up on the assholes of the world?”

“There’s a point.”

A man’s voice drifted up from the street, and she saw a middle-aged banker-type guy scowl at a portly man. A dowdy woman shook her head at both of them and walked away.

Heather glanced over. “Idiots. Like she’d look at either of them.” She sipped her beer. “So how are you doing?”

Vic studied Heather. Here was someone who had no problem with giving open answers. “Forget how I’m doing. I want to know why all these people are in town. And what exactly is a Gathering?”

“Whoa, doggie, you’re going to jump right into the pond?” Heather raised her eyebrows. “No small talk first?”

“Spill or I’ll hurt you. Badly.”

“Oooo, the kitty’s got claws.” Helen grinned and held her hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. Actually, that’s why Alec let you off early-those two males keep leaving me all the tough explanations…like I bet they never mentioned that women come into heat with every full moon.”

Vic choked on her beer. “Excuse me? Heat? Like a…a cat?”

“‘Fraid so. It has to do with the Wild Hunt that the Fae held under the full moon. The time for hunting and partying and mating.”

She sat up, forcing air into her lungs. “Are you saying I’m going to go howl in the street and let myself be raped by man after man?”

Heather whooped. “God, what an image!”

“But-”

Heather patted Vic’s hand. “No rape, girlfriend. Never. If a guy can’t smell that a woman is hot for him, his equipment doesn’t work.”

“Huh.” Vic ran that around in her mind, and her muscles loosened. Like most female soldiers, she’d experienced too many close calls. “They really can’t?”

Heather’s lips curved. “Really. I was damned shocked when I went to college-human males can be total jerks, you know?”

“No shit.” Vic rose to pace the length of the balcony. “So guys come to town to score with the women who are in heat?” In heat. God, that sounded nasty.

“And hopefully make babies. We can only get pregnant under a full moon.”

“Huh. Gives new meaning to the rhythm method, doesn’t it?” Vic said lightly, trying not to show how unnerved she felt. She took a sip of beer and watched a flower pixie in the rose bushes snatch a rose hip to nibble on.

“Unfortunately, shifter women don’t get knocked up easily. But we almost always have twins, usually more.”

“Jesus. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad.” What would it be like to be pregnant? As a soldier or agent, she’d never considered it, but now…the thought wasn’t all that horrifying. Still, two or more at a time? A litter.

She shook her head. Then again, going into heat wouldn’t be that bad with Alec and Calum around. “I think I get the drift. A Gathering is a good place to hook up.”

“Almost.” Helen looked…distressed. “It’s more than just a fun time, Vicki. It’s the law. All men and women attend Gatherings until too old to feel the pull of the moon. Or until they’re lifemated.”

Vic turned to look at her, cold trickling down her spine. “I’m not lifemated.”

“No.” Helen sighed. “You’re not allowed to be yet. The Law states a Daonain-male or female-must experience at least one Gather before…we’ll call it marrying. A new shifter needs to discover how hormones affect her judgment before jumping into something.”

Attend an orgy? One where her hormones would be in control? Vic stared at Helen in horror. “No way. I’m not going.”

Helen gave her a sympathetic look. “Your body won’t give you a choice.”

“My body does what I tell it to do.”

“Well…the Law says you must attend the Gather, but if you can overrule your instincts enough to go home, more power to you.” Helen reached across the table and patted her hand.

Okay. Then that’s what would happen.

Helen glanced at the western mountains where the sun was disappearing. “We need to get dressed. Calum’s going to do your introduction to the clan, and you can’t show up in a uniform. C’mon.”

Well, at least Calum had mentioned that. Just a general, here’s a new member. Nothing formal, but yeah, wearing a uniform wouldn’t be appropriate.

Heather led the way back into the bedroom. “Alec dropped off stuff for you earlier. Let’s see what he brought.” She started pulling clothes out and rejected most of them. A pair of jeans passed inspection. The tight suede boots were approved.

Vic scowled. “What’s wrong with my shirts? They cover me-what more is needed?”

“Well, now, honey. There’s covering”-Heather pulled a white top out of her suitcase and held it up-”and there’s covering. Try this on.”

“My bra straps will show”

“No bra. It’s tight enough you don’t need one.”

“Uh-huh.” After dropping her bra, Vic pulled the shirt over her head and walked over to the mirror. Silvery-white, low cut, almost a spandex material, the tank top clung to every curve and was snug enough to push her breasts up, displaying an amazing amount of cleavage. “Well. That’s a little indiscreet.”

Heather laughed and wiggled into a similar top in a golden color that set off her russet hair. “Tonight, we flaunt it. No underwear, sexy clothes. Tomorrow it’s back to being ladies. Now, let’s see. My mascara, liner, and shadow will work for you. Use them.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Vic muttered, obediently seating herself at the dressing table. As she stroked mascara on her lashes, she asked, “If the men are so hot for us, why bother with the getup?”

Heather started on her own makeup. “It’s like this: no matter the ratio, there’s still a lot of women in that room. And even if a woman wants a man, he can refuse her.”

Vic shrugged. “So she finds someone else. BFD.”

“Stop sulking and use your brain. You don’t want to mate with just any guy; you want the best genes for your potential children. It’s instinct.”

“Mmmhmm.” I’m not fucking anyone; I’m not going into heat. Period.

Heather set down the mascara and gave Vic a pointed look. “As Cosantir, Calum’s at the top of the genetic heap. As a cahir, Alec is too.”

Vic stiffened. Now wait just one little minute-women would be in heat and coming on to her men? My men?

With Jamie beside him, Calum leaned against the front of his bar, letting the clan chatter away. He’d given them a lot to discuss: Lachlan’s gift to Victoria, the attacks on her and on Jamie, what was being done, what they needed to do. He’d told Heather to come late; Victoria didn’t need to suffer through hearing about Lachlan again.

They would arrive any time, so he raised his hand for quiet. When a few people continued talking, he snarled. The ensuing silence was profound.

Alec, standing in his usual place at the end of the bar, gave him an amused look.

“To conclude on a more enjoyable note, shall we recognize our new clan members?” Calum said, and with impeccable timing, Heather walked into the tavern, followed by…Victoria?

“Herne’s Holy Antlers,” Alec whispered, echoing Calum’s reaction.

His female-and she would be his female-wore tight jeans, and a…some sort of shirt that molded to her lush breasts and nipples that had peaked from the cold. Her lovely long hair rippling across her shoulders and down to her ass, and she’d done something to make her eyes darker, deeper, bigger. He could only stare and force his lust under control.

When he saw every man in the tavern gaping, he barely kept from snarling again. After clearing his throat, his voice still held a growl. “Just in time. Clan members. The clan welcomes Victoria, a werecat.”

The room chorused back. “We See Victoria.”

“The clan welcomes Jamie, a werecat.” He smiled at his daughter, pride surging within him.

“We See Jamie.”

“The clan welcomes Tanner, a werewolf,” Calum said, and a blond teenager, standing beside his mother, grinned widely.

“We See Tanner.”

“Rejoice, Daonain, the clan increases,” Calum finished.

The meeting broke up with cheering. Some Daonain slipped out to run and hunt together on the mountain before the Gathering. Others greeted the youngsters and Victoria. Victoria seemed to have an inordinate number of men around her, Calum noticed, trying not to react.

“Timed it well,” Alec said, joining him. He nodded toward the window where the gleam of the sun barely topped the western mountains. “You’re improving.”

Calum sighed. His first meeting had started late, and he’d foolishly tried to continue after moonrise when the females came into heat. The clan still laughed about it.

There were far too many people in the bar, dammit. The attention. The noise. The smells. Vic wormed her way to the back exit.

Outside, the air was crisp and cold. She leaned against the building, ears ringing. God, what a crowd. She hadn’t realized so many shifters lived in the area.

For a few minutes, she watched the moon inch into the dark sky, sending a pale glow over the snow-covered mountains. Pretty. And it was time to get moving. She glanced at the second floor. A light was on-Jamie’d gone home. Apparently, she wouldn’t go into heat until around twenty or so which was a good thing, since Vic would cripple any man who touched the girl.

Maybe the kid would like to play some poker. Vic grinned. Looked like she could leave too since, obviously, the female-in-heat business had passed her by. Thank you, baby Jesus.

The backyard entrance was around the building, so she walked along the side, scuffling her boots in the gravel. At the scent of wood smoke, she looked up. Someone had built a fire inside, and smoke puffed up from the chimney. A translucent air sylph danced in the updraft, its elongated body sinuous and graceful.

As Vic rounded the front corner of the tavern, she lost her balance like the ground had fallen out from under her foot. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself. The grain of the wood felt rough against her fingers, almost too rough. She straightened as her bare arms tingled with the slight breeze. As she took a step, her jeans scraped over her thighs…rubbed over her pussy. A tremor shook her. With her every movement, the slick material of her top sensuously slid over her breasts and hardening nipples.

She could hear the people inside. The men’s deep voices were tantalizing, their gruff laughter giving her chills. She wanted to hear them, see them, and her feet carried her that way before she’d even thought about moving.

At the front door of the tavern, she stopped, her hand on the heavy ironwork handle. She couldn’t move. Everything in her demanded that she go within, to touch and be touched, and… No, I’m going home. Her fingers tightened on the door. I’m going inside. She shook her head. Her body wasn’t doing what she told it to-this wasn’t her at all.

“Somewhat intense, isn’t it.” Calum’s deep voice washed over her and brought every nerve to full awareness. She spun around.

He stood so close her breasts crushed into his muscular chest, pulling a moan from her.

A low growl came from him, and he grasped her by the arms, his grip not cruel, just firm enough to send her head spinning. He was strong, so strong, and a leader, and every cell in her body wanted him.

“Now, I’d say you’re having trouble because it’s your first time, but I am experiencing a definite loss of control as well.” His hands slid up and down her arms, and the muskiness of a man reached her. She inhaled, filling her senses with his scent.

He bent and nipped her jaw, sending goosebumps up her arms. “Victoria. Cariad, I would be honored to be your first mating of this, your first Gathering.”

When she breathed, “Yes,” he lifted her into his arms, carried her into the tavern, and up the stairs.