Mate Claimed

CHAPTER SEVEN

Eric led her down the ridge, across a valley cut by another deep wash, and up another hill. At the top of this, Eric moved along a saddle between two boulder-strewn ridges, then climbed even higher to the top of the highest ridge.

When he reached the summit, he crouched low and moved in a wildcat slink that Iona hadn’t yet perfected. His belly nearly touched the ground, paws moving automatically to find the best purchase and balance his weight.

Iona copied his movements as best she could, her limbs stiff and sore. At last, Eric dropped all the way to his stomach and looked down the hill.

Sounds came to Iona from what must have been a half mile away, but her wildcat easily caught them.

People talking. Men, two of them, she heard distinctly. They weren’t saying anything important, just general conversation.

“Warm tonight.”

“Yeah, hear it’s going to be in the nineties tomorrow. Where’s winter?”

Hunters? Campers? There were no marked campgrounds out this way, Iona knew, but that didn’t mean hikers didn’t walk out and set up tents.

Drug dealers, maybe? But they sounded relaxed and ordinary, not worried about anything. As though they had every right to be out here in the middle of the desert in the vast darkness.

Eric sniffed the wind, making a soft sound in his throat. Iona sniffed too, and caught the scent. Humans. How many, she couldn’t tell, but not a lot of them. A crowd of humans smelled far different from one or two.

Eric dropped even lower. The light from the waning moon dappled both his fur and the ground around him, making the snow leopard almost impossible to spot.

Iona puffed a little as she moved closer to him, trusting her black fur to blend into the shadows.

Eric didn’t look at her. His gaze was riveted to what was below, and when Iona saw, she stilled as well.

Three rows of one-story buildings were strung along the desert floor, each about a hundred feet long but not more than about ten feet wide. Doors entered these at intervals, but there were no windows.

Square bulks of air conditioners that doubled as heat pumps squatted on the roofs. The three buildings were surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire.

Few lights illuminated the place, only one on either end, each near a gate. The men they’d heard were two guards, standing together, smoking cigarettes, automatic rifles slung over their shoulders.

Iona tried to do what Eric had taught her this morning—reach inside and open up her scent ability. She widened her cat nostrils and drank in the wind.

She smelled very little out of the ordinary. The two men, the dust and creosote, the scent of coyotes, rabbits, birds, and reptiles that lay hidden in the brush. From the buildings, nothing. A bit of Freon from the air conditioners, but the units were silent.

Eric’s nose was twitching too, his sides moving as he sniffed and sniffed.

Finally he turned to Iona, his gaze unmistakably telling her it was time to leave. Iona let him lead the way, but as she followed, her foot caught on gravel, the stones grating. The trickle of pebbles didn’t fall over the edge of the ridge, but the rattle was loud and startling, sound carrying a long way out here.

“What was that?” one of the men said.

The other didn’t seem worried. “Probably a coyote. Or a snake. This place is crawling with snakes.”

“Yeah, no one’s stupid enough to come out here,” the first one said. “Except us.”

The second chuckled, Iona heard the flick of a lighter, and then she crept away after Eric.

Iona made no more noise as she picked her way down the ridge, back the way they’d come. When Eric reached the bottom, he broke into a run, leading her across the valley and back to the hill where they’d lain. Iona pounded behind him.

Eric didn’t stop, didn’t shift, but loped on, never doubting she’d follow, all the way back to where they’d left the bike and their clothes.

The leopard stretched when they reached the motorcycle, bending his front almost to the ground to unkink his forelegs, then lengthening to stretch hind. As Eric rose from the stretch, his body changed back into that of a delectable, naked man, his tattoo black in the faint moonlight.

Iona shook herself out, trying to dislodge gravel, stickers, and creosote leaves from her fur, while Eric watched her. He made no move to dress, but waited until she’d slowly and painfully changed back to human.

Not until Iona was standing on her human feet, rubbing her aching arms, did he reach to the ground for his clothes. Iona enjoyed watching him a moment before she slipped on her underwear, sweatpants, and sport top, a bit disappointed that they were getting ready to head home.

But the stealthy move to the top of the hill and the equally careful one down had taken the edge off Iona’s frenzy. Eric had been smart to include her in his reconnaissance.

“What was that place?” she asked as Eric settled his black T-shirt over his body.

“No idea. What did you get from it?”

“You mean the scents? Nothing. I mean, apart from the guys and the usual smell of desert and buildings. But I’m not very good at scenting, I told you.”

Eric buckled his belt. “I didn’t smell anything either. It was neutral.”

“Maybe the buildings are airtight.”

He shook his head as he leaned on his motorcycle’s seat and pulled on his boots. “No building’s that airtight, unless it’s underground or something. These are crappy buildings on temporary foundations. I should be able to smell what’s inside them.”

“Unless the buildings are empty.”

“Then why the AC units, and why the barbed wire and guards? Very weird.” Eric took the helmet from the back of the bike and handed it to her. “I’ll send my trackers back out to have another look around.”

“Trackers?”

“Trackers are my eyes and ears. Brody, who lives next door to me, is one, a couple of wolves, my son, and Neal, our Guardian.”

Iona didn’t know what a Guardian was either, but she wasn’t in the mood for lessons on Shifters at the moment. The men on the other side of the ridge made her nervous.

“Your son,” she repeated. Iona had looked up information on Eric after she’d met him and knew he’d had a wife—a mate—who’d given him a son. But Eric, so far, had never spoken about him.

Now he grinned. “Jace. You’d like him. He’s nicer than me.”

“Most people are.”

Eric was across the few feet of gravel, his hand gripping the back of her neck before Iona registered he’d moved. He held her solidly, his eyes glittering in the moonlight, gaze fixing hers and not letting her look away.

“I can’t be nice and be leader,” he said, all smiles gone. “My Shifters have to be ready to obey me in an instant, or everyone is in danger. That doesn’t leave me much room for being nice.”

Iona stilled as her mating heat started to rise again. Why did him touching her with so much strength make her want him?

She looked steadily back at him, knowing he could scent her fear as well as her excitement and need. “I was joking,” she said.

“You have a sassy mouth. I like it.” Eric licked swiftly across her parted lips, then released her.

He walked to the bike, straddled it, and started it. He didn’t look at Iona as she quickly jammed on the helmet and swung on behind him, but he waited until she’d wrapped her arms around his waist before he lifted his feet and guided the motorcycle back down the narrow dirt trail.

Eric arrived home to a full house. He was restless as he dismounted and put away the bike, the run with Iona not having calmed him. Even the long ride he’d taken after he’d dropped her off, to get her smell off him, hadn’t helped either.

Having her under him, ripe and ready, still had his body roaring. He could have taken her, fallen back on what Shifters did in the wild, forced the mate-claim on the female and dragged her home. She’d been ready, her mating need high.

If Eric had been younger, he might have done it. He’d chased Kirsten hard, and she’d played just coy enough to make him crazy.

When Kirsten had finally let him catch her, and they’d mated, it had been fast and frantic. Eric had shut her with him into the half of the house he’d shared with Cassidy in Scotland, and they’d not come out for days.

Since Kirsten’s death, Eric hadn’t bothered to pursue females. He had enough casual encounters to keep his libido under control, he already had a son, and besides, he missed Kirsten. Females were scarce among Shifters, and he’d decided to leave the females in their fertile years to younger males who hadn’t yet produced cubs.

He knew that what he should do with Iona was bring her into Shiftertown and give the younger males first chance with her. Neal, their Guardian, still needed a mate, as did several other males, including Shane and Brody.

But every time Eric thought about stepping aside and letting another Shifter have her, sharp, red rage boiled through him. Eric had seen her first. Iona was his.

Cassidy was in the kitchen, leaning on the breakfast bar to watch her husband cook. What Diego was mixing up in that cast-iron pan—strips of steak that smelled like they’d been marinated with spices and jalapeños—made Eric’s mouth water and stomach growl. He was hungry.

Cassidy drank water, her stomach distended with the cub she carried, while Diego had a beer. At Eric’s appearance, Diego, without a word, fetched another beer from the refrigerator and handed it to him.

Eric opened the bottle but didn’t drink, his adrenaline still too high. Beer would calm him down, but he didn’t really want to calm down.

Cassidy’s pregnancy looked good on her. She wore a knit shirt that clung to the bump that was Eric’s nephew or niece, the rest of her as long and lean as ever. It would be cliché to say that Cassidy glowed, but in Eric’s opinion, she truly did. Her face was rosy, her eyes bright, her pale hair sleek, her smile wide. Her love for Diego was plain to see, as was Diego’s for her.

“You look good, Cass,” Eric said.

He put his arm around his sister and leaned to press a kiss to her neck. Cassidy returned the embrace, ruffling Eric’s hair.

Diego watched them, the man used by now to the way Shifter families needed constant touch for reassurance. Diego was all for embracing and touching Cassidy, but he wasn’t as comfortable hugging Eric or Jace, even after living with them for most of a year. How humans had survived this long without curling close to their loved ones was beyond Eric’s understanding.

Eric could never resist goading Diego a little, though. Even now, when he was still wound up from Iona, he walked around the counter to Diego and wrapped both arms around his brother-in-law.

“Eric,” Diego said carefully. Eric suppressed a laugh as he squeezed Diego and nuzzled his hair. Diego didn’t move, though Eric felt the man’s fighting instincts rise.

Eric relented, released Diego, and clapped him on both shoulders. Human men were much happier when they were hitting each other, for some reason.

Eric picked up his beer again and leaned back on the counter, finally tipping the cold liquid into his mouth. “Smells good.”

“Carne asada.” Diego flipped the nearly smoking meat in the pan.

“Diego’s teaching me to cook like his mother,” Cassidy said.

“Cassidy is watching me cook like my mother,” Diego said. “Has been all week.”

Cassidy winked.

“You feeling better?” Diego flashed Eric a dark-eyed look. Diego was what humans called Latino, meaning his origins were a combination of Latin American Indian and Spanish European, mixed hundreds of years ago.

Diego had black brown hair, light brown skin, and dark eyes that held intelligence and passion—at least, passion for Cassidy. He’d grown up hard but had turned his life around, taking care of his mother and brother at huge cost to himself. He’d never been submissive to Eric, no matter that he was human, and he was a good match for Cassidy. He took care of her and made her happy.

Diego had come home early today, startling Eric, who’d been leaning against the wall in the shower, letting cold water beat down on him. Iona had called Diego, concerned about Eric, which—once Eric had taken his hand from Diego’s throat after Diego surprised him—had made Eric warm all over.

Diego, who didn’t know about Iona, had tried to question him. Eric had put him off, going next door to see Brody, who’d called while Eric had still been lying in bed recovering, wanting to talk about the buildings in the desert.

“Sure,” Eric said, answering him. “I went for a run. Checked out something Brody told me about.”

Eric described the guarded buildings sitting empty in the desert behind the fences topped with barbed wire. Both Cassidy and Diego looked interested and agreed that the compound warranted a closer look.

“I can do some research for you,” Diego said. “Xav is good on computers. He can find the place on a satellite map, figure out who built it and what it’s for.”

“Could be some secret human government place,” Cassidy said. “You know, like Area Fifty-one. You were close to that. Maybe it’s some new weapon-testing site. Humans like to build weapons.”

“Possibly.”

Eric knew Cassidy was likely right—it would turn out to be a human facility built for whatever weird purpose the humans thought important at the moment. The compound would stay there until funding ran out and no one could remember what the weird purpose was. Then they’d abandon the buildings or tear them down and cart out the pieces, moving on to some other project equally as bizarre.

“I’d be interested to see what Xav can find out,” Eric said.

“Me too,” Cassidy said. “Now, who is Iona Duncan, and why was she so worried about you today?”

Eric jolted, and a small amount of beer spilled to his shirt. “Shit, Cass.”

Cassidy didn’t look sympathetic. “A woman calls Diego out of the blue and says you’re here alone, and you sound weak and hurt. Diego rushes home and finds you dealing with the aftereffects of your Collar. How did she know? Is she psychic or something?”

“No, I was talking to her on the phone when it happened.”

Cassidy just looked at him, and so did Diego. Eric glanced at the pan. “You’re going to burn that.”

Diego stirred the contents. “No, I won’t. Been making this since I was ten. Iona Duncan is the daughter of the woman who owns Duncan Construction, the company that’s building the new Shifter houses. That was easy to find out.”

“I’ve been talking to her about the plans,” Eric said. “I need to find out if I can trust her.”

His sister and brother-in-law both gave him an oh-sure look. Cassidy smiled as she took a sip of water. “You can tell us, Eric. Is she hot?”

Eric hesitated, but he knew he couldn’t lie to Cassidy. She’d smell a lie on him a mile away. “Black hair, blue eyes, body like a goddess.”

Diego’s face split with a grin. “Good for you.”

“Is she the woman I saw you with at Coolers last spring?” Cassidy asked.

Damn Cassidy’s terrific memory. When Eric had first spied Iona in the Shifter bar, he’d gotten her out of there before any of the other Shifters could scent what she was. Iona had been passing for human—still was—but Eric had sensed something different about her when he saw her, and scented her easily when he’d gotten close. Eric hadn’t thought anyone else had noticed him walk her out of the bar.

Cassidy, of course, had an eye on everything Eric did. Eric loved the connection he had to his sister, but the close bond could be inconvenient at times.

“Yes, that was her,” Eric said. “And, yes, I found out all about her and who she was. So, when we needed the new houses, I asked her to try to get the bid.”

“And you’ve kept quiet about her all this time,” Diego said.

Eric took another sip of beer, hearing the implied why? in Diego’s voice. “Stop being a detective, Diego. I’m Shiftertown leader. If I start a relationship with a woman, it’s talked about all over Shiftertown. Shifters debate whether she’s good for them, how alpha she is, and all that crap. I’m trying to keep it casual, to ease her in gradually.”

A half-truth. Eric would bring Iona in eventually, and when he revealed that she was half-Shifter, the shit was going to hit the fan. He needed to make sure Iona was completely safe first.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.” Eric fixed Cassidy and Diego, in turn, with his alpha stare.

Which they both completely ignored. “We don’t talk about your private life,” Diego said.

“Except to each other,” Cassidy said, her smile teasing. “And to bug you with questions about it.”

At least they were joking, thinking Eric had the hots for a human woman he’d met in a Shifter bar. He’d tell them soon.

Some part of Eric, though, wanted to keep Iona private. Shifters had sequestered their females in the old days—they had to, to keep other males from challenging for them or outright stealing them.

Times were changing, Shifters lived in relative safety now, and they were one big happy family. Right?

Cassidy became serious. “What are you going to do about the modifications to the houses?” she asked. “Can she keep it quiet?”

“I think so. But I’ll make sure before I tell her anything.”

“Modifications?” Diego asked. “You mean your secret hideaways?”

Diego, once he’d become Cassidy’s mate, had been taken downstairs to the hidden rooms all Shifter houses had. In them, Shifters could take refuge or hide the wealth they’d accumulated over the years, safe from humans or other Shifters.

Go to ground wasn’t just a saying among Shifters. No one outside each Shifter clan was allowed into the spaces—even different prides of the same clan could keep each other out if they chose.

No human knew of these things, and no human, except a mate of the pride or pack, could ever know.

Eric was relieved of having to explain more about Iona by the arrival of Jace. “Hey, Dad,” he said, breezing in. “Graham wants to talk to you.”

Eric didn’t hear him for a second, struck, as always, by how much Jace looked like Kirsten. He had her look, the shape of her face and nose, the quirk of the head she’d had. It hurt, but at the same time, Eric felt a wash of love.

Eric went to Jace and pulled him into an embrace, holding his son hard for a moment or two. Jace returned the embrace, then Eric let him go and ruffled his dark hair, still amazed that Jace, his unruly little cub, had grown into such a powerful man.

“What does he want now?” Eric asked.

“He wasn’t about to tell me,” Jace said. His eyes were green, like Eric’s. “I said I wasn’t his messenger service, but I thought you’d like to know.”

Nor could Eric run to Graham’s side the instant Graham wanted to talk. Graham wanted that—to make it look as though Eric had answered his summons.

Damn the wolf. Everything Graham did and said was calculated, the Lupine determined to take over. He’d do it subtly at first and then overtly.

Cassidy smiled a predatory smile. “Want me to talk to him, Eric?”

“I want you as far away from him as you can be,” Eric growled. “Understand?”

“I’m your second,” Cassidy went on in a reasonable voice. “I’m supposed to take care of things you decide don’t need your firsthand attention. You sending me to meet him will underscore that he’s not your top priority.”

“You’re female,” Eric said. “And pregnant. He hates females in authority.”

Cassidy brightened. “Even more insulting, then.”

“No, Cass,” Diego said before Eric could answer. Diego’s voice was hard, and he gave the meat a vicious stir, dark eyes on Cassidy.

Cassidy looked at her mate, mouth open to say more, then she closed it, went to Diego, and snuggled up against his side. “Thank you,” she said.

“I agree with Diego,” Eric said. “It’s tempting to rub McNeil’s face in it, but, no. We can’t predict what he’d do. I’ll meet him—I want to know what he’s up to.”

First, though, Eric had to make sure Iona’s scent was completely off him.

A female heavy with child would have the strongest scent, so Eric went to Cassidy, peeled her away from Diego, and pulled her into another hug.

Then again, he just loved his sister. They’d been through so much together—hardship and good times, joy and grief, always there for each other. Eric held Cassidy for a long time, rubbing her back and kissing her hair, while she hugged him in return without question.

Eric released Cassidy and hugged Jace again, his love for his son pouring through him.

Jace returned the hug but looked at Eric in puzzlement when they drew apart. “Love you too, Dad. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just wanting time with my family.” Eric grinned at his brother-in-law and spread his arms. “Diego.”

Diego brought up his cooking fork. “Back off, Eric.”

Eric did, still chuckling, and he left the house to find Graham.

Graham McNeil approached the meeting place in the common ground that ran between Shifter backyards, knowing damn well that Warden would never agree to talk to him anywhere but there.

An old picnic table with one bench sat in a weedy spot out in the open, away from the mesquites that lined the long open space. Graham knew why Eric had chosen it—the table could be watched by any number of Shifters out their back windows, even in the moonlight.

Eric’s Shifters, that is. If Graham so much as raised his voice to Eric, those Shifters would come out in force. Which was why Graham always stationed a few of the wolves he’d been allowed to bring from Elko at certain intervals, watching for trouble.

By the time Graham approached the meeting place, Eric was already there, his ass planted on top of the picnic table, moonlight picking out his black tattoo. As always, the man sat stone still, watching Graham with the confidence of a predator who knew he ruled this patch.

Let Warden pin him with his stare all he wanted. When Graham challenged for leadership and won, he’d gouge out those weird green eyes and play marbles with them.

Graham stopped about two yards from the picnic table, out of Eric’s reach, Eric out of his. No challenges tonight.

Eric stank of his sister and her unborn cub—the Shiftertown leader was ecstatic about his sister giving birth to a half human, half Shifter. He had to be out of his mind.

Warden didn’t ask what Graham wanted. That would acknowledge that Eric had come because he wanted to know what Graham had to say.

Graham didn’t want to talk about leadership tonight, though. His nephew’s behavior this afternoon had reminded him of a need, and also reminded him that this Shiftertown provided him a good opportunity to fill it.

“My nephew’s an idiot,” Graham said without greeting. “I disciplined him for the attack on your bear.”

If Eric was surprised, he hid it well. He acknowledged the apology with a nod.

“But his asshole-ness brought home to me how much I need an heir,” Graham said. “A son. And for that I need a mate. So I want you to provide me one.”