Mate Claimed (31 page)

“Remember me?” she said. “I’m Misty. From the bar the other night?”

“Yeah.” Graham leaned against the stone wall next to her. “Yeah, I remember you.”

He looked her up and down, and she glanced self-consciously at her dress. “I have a meeting. Best I look like a Plain Jane for it. In legal-land, girls who wear anything cute are considered trashy.”

“You a lawyer?”

Misty laughed. “No. I run a flower shop. There, it’s good to wear cute clothes. And knowing a lot about flowers doesn’t hurt either. Which I do.”

She liked to jabber. Graham had never admired that in a woman, but in Misty, it seemed…sweet.

“You recover from the fight?” she asked, moving her brown-eyed gaze to his shoulder.

“Shifters heal fast,” he said.

“Lucky you. That’s probably why it didn’t hurt you to have all those tatts. You made me start thinking about getting one, though. What do you think I should do?”

A flower, was his instant thought. A little red rose, on her buttocks. And a heart right at the small of her back, something he could lick when he got behind her…

Shit. What was he thinking? She was
human
.

“A flower,” he said. “You know, because you have a flower shop.” Graham pushed himself from the wall, took her hand, and turned it palm up. “Right here on your wrist. A rosebud.”

He skimmed his fingertips over her skin. She shivered, and the scent that came to him was one of arousal. Graham felt himself growing hard in response, and he lifted his hand away.

Misty traced her wrist where Graham had touched her. Her scent, her caressing fingers, that smoky voice…

Time to go.

He didn’t move.

“A rosebud,” she said. “What a great idea. Maybe when I work up the courage, you could go with me?”

Yes.
“Thought you didn’t like Shifters.”

“For some reason I thought Shifters would be like in the movies. You know. Half man, half beast, bad breath. I’m glad I found out wrong.”

“That’s because you’ve never met my uncle.”

She laughed, which made her eyes flash and her voice go sultry. “You’re funny too. I didn’t know Shifters would have a sense of humor. I’m glad I met you, Graham. Slapped my ideas right in the face.”

The elevator doors opened. Misty pressed the call button so it would stay there, but she didn’t get on. “Guess I’d better
go. If I’m late to that meeting—well, let’s just say it won’t be good.”

“You decide to get the tatt, come to Shiftertown and ask for me. I’ll have my friend do yours.”

“Is he another Shifter?”

“He’s a wolf. Best tatt artist I’ve ever met.”

“Huh. I’ll have to think about that. See you, Graham.”

Graham lifted his hand in a silent good-bye. Misty smiled at him, a warm, genuine smile, no fear in her eyes, and stepped onto the elevator. She waved at him as the doors closed, and then she was gone.

Graham stared at the closed doors of the elevator for a long time, unnerving feelings stirring inside him, before he finally turned away and sought his Harley.

“M
elissa Granger?”

Misty pulled herself out of the daze her second encounter with the Shifter called Graham had sent her into, and looked at the man speaking to her.

He had a balding head and wore a business suit, one that must have cost him a lot of money. A lawyer of some kind. Probably a prosecutor with that expensive suit. Defenders were notoriously underpaid.

She stopped her walk across the courthouse lobby. “Yes?”

He stuck out a well-cared-for hand. “My name’s Kellerman. Frank Kellerman. Are you a friend of Mr. McNeil?”

“Of who?” She’d never heard of Kellerman, or McNeil. Nothing to do with her.

“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

“B
ut 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, especially 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.

“D
o 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.