Primal Bonds (12 page)

T
he man’s stern stance faltered as Glory rose, her six-foot height made higher by four-inch heels. She pinned him with her Shifter stare, and he swallowed hard, trying to stand his ground.

Glory ran her tongue around the ice cream. “Are you telling me you’re kicking us out?”

“Leave him alone,” Andrea said quickly. “It’s not his fault.”

“But he looks like he’d taste good,” Glory purred.

Andrea got up. She was about the same height as the man, and she knew she looked positively harmless next to Glory. Good Shifter, bad Shifter. Andrea gave him a sweet smile. “You’ll be fine if you back away slowly. Give her a little more ice cream, and she’ll leave.”

Glory continued to lick her cone and give the man her hungry stare. The manager swung around and signaled to the servers behind the counter, who were watching with wide eyes. “Give them whatever they want. No charge.” He gave Andrea a pleading look. “And then you really have to go. I’m sorry. It’s not my decision.”

“We understand.” Andrea asked for a couple of pints each of dark chocolate and vanilla-cinnamon, and the servers scrambled to pack the tubs.

Glory continued to lick her ice-cream cone, watching the man with a cold stare. Andrea took the bag with the pints of ice cream and urged Glory to come with her.

Glory gave her melting ice cream one last lick, dabbed a bit onto the man’s nose, and handed him the half-empty cone. She sauntered out as only Glory could saunter, aware that all eyes were on her.

Andrea and Glory held it together until they reached the little car down the street, then they dropped inside it and collapsed into laughter. Glory high-fived Andrea, started the car, and ruthlessly backed out into traffic.

“This is bad, though,” Andrea said as they drove north across the Congress Street bridge. Rain was just starting to patter down, the scent of the bat colony that lived beneath the bridge filling the humid air.

“I know.” Glory swung around a slowing car. “Fucking humans. The Collars aren’t enough?”

“Maybe this is what the shooters want—terrifying humans into keep us penned in the Shiftertowns. Why, I wonder?”

“Does there have to be a reason? Humans are afraid of us, and people act like assholes when they’re afraid.”

“I know that, but I mean, why now? It’s been twenty years since humans have known about us. They know what we can and can’t do by now—or what we will and won’t do. It seems like there’s something more behind this.”

“Whatever.” Glory was furious, which added to her already maniacal driving. Andrea sank back in her seat, holding on and speculating the rest of the way home.

“H
ey, Glory left her bag here,” Connor said from where he sat with Kim on the other side of the kitchen.

Sean flipped burgers on the griddle, cooking inside because it was too rainy to do it outside. Glory had stormed in, vented her spleen about being kicked out of her favorite bakery, and stormed out again. Andrea hadn’t said much to Sean, just looked concerned and presented Connor with a pint of dark-chocolate ice cream, his favorite.

“These aren’t Glory’s,” Kim said, rustling the tissue paper in the red bag. “Andrea told me what Glory bought.”

Connor helped Kim pull out the tissue paper and then the rest of the bag’s contents. Connor held up a pair of black briefs that had the word “Fine” printed on the back. “Did you buy these for Liam, Kim? I dare him to wear them.”

Sean froze, spatula in midair, grease dripping to the floor.

Kim’s blue eyes went bright with amusement. “Not me. I haven’t been shopping in a while. I think Andrea left these.”

“What for?” Connor stared at the briefs before his puzzled look gave way to a smile. “Oh, these are for,
Sean
.” He cackled with laughter as he shook out another pair that had a cupid’s bow and arrow on the crotch. “Hey, what do you think
this
means?”

Sean jerked back to the stove and slid his spatula under a burger before it burned to a crisp. “Bloody hell.”

Damn Andrea, she was as changeable as the sea. Staring him down, telling him she wanted her freedom one moment, buying him sexy underwear the next. Not giving it to him, but slyly leaving it where the rest of his family could find it. Either she was signaling her intentions or making him a laughingstock. Or both.

So she wanted to play, did she? Lupines were like that, playful about the most serious things. Look at Ellison, dressing up in his Stetson as the overboard Texan, or Glory in her spike heels and black leather. Cats had much more dignity.

But if Andrea wanted to challenge him, Sean was up for it.

Connor pulled out the last pair of briefs, blue and covered with smiley faces. “Try these on Sean. I have to see this.”

“Shut it, Connor. I—”

The scent came to him like a stinging slap. Sean dropped the spatula, and grease flew.

“Sean?” Kim’s concern cut into his alertness, but not far. He smelled woods, mint, and the acrid tinge of the otherworld.

“Son of a bitch.” He ran for the living room, grabbed his sword, and bolted out the back door.

Connor shouted after him. “Sean, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Stay inside,” Sean shouted back. “Guard Kim.”

Rain poured down as Sean ran, the cold casting fog in the green yards behind houses. Nothing was fenced in the back—the yards ran together under stands of towering trees, providing space for kids to run and play, although not today. The sun was setting, the fog darkening.

Sean found him in the middle of a circle of trees not ten yards from Glory’s house. The man was tall and unnaturally slim, his hair hanging down his back in a braid like twisted white silk. His face was clean shaven, unlined, perpetually young, and bore a cruel sharpness. He wore, not robes, but a mail shirt that looked to be made of beaten silver, leather leggings, boots, and a longbow across his back. Dressed for battle in a
Lord of the Rings
sort of way.

Sean unsheathed the sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, feeling a hell of a tingle as the sword touched the gate between the worlds. “What the fuck do you want?”

The man looked down at the blade in some disdain. “Feline.
She
summons me. Don’t interfere.”

“Who? No one here would be daft enough to summon a Fae ...”

He trailed off as the man’s cold black gaze moved to Glory’s house. Andrea was in there, alone, because Glory had gone off to find Dylan.

“Shit,” Sean whispered.

He ran for Glory’s house, finding the back door unlocked. He pounded through the unlighted kitchen and up the dark staircase to Andrea’s bedroom, bursting in to find Andrea on her bed in a fetal position, her eyes closed, her breathing rapid.

“Andrea, wake up. Wake up, love.”

She wouldn’t come out of it. Sean dropped the sword and got up on the bed with her, shaking her. “Wake up, now.”

Andrea’s eyelids fluttered. She looked at Sean in half-focused confusion, then awareness hit her, and she gasped. “Sean.”

Sean gathered her into his arms, kissing her damp forehead. “It’s all right, love. What were you dreaming?”

She shuddered. “The same. The same nightmare, except ...”

“There was someone there.”

Andrea nodded, her eyes full of fear. “I hear his voice sometimes. This time I could see him.”

“White-haired Fae bastard with ice-cold eyes?”

“Yes,” she said, then she jerked in his arms. “How the hell do you know?”

“I just saw him. He says you summoned him.”

“Saw him? What you mean,
saw
him?”

“He’s standing out in that circle of trees behind this house, large as life.”

Andrea gaped. “But I didn’t summon anyone. I never would.”

“Not on purpose. You did it through the dream.”

Her eyes darkened with fear. “Oh, Sean. Oh, crap.”

“Not your fault.” Sean rubbed his hand down her back. “Not your fault.”

She raised her head. “I need to see this Fae.”

“Not a good idea.”

Andrea wrenched herself from his grasp. “I don’t care. Stop protecting me. Show me where you saw him.”

“Andrea.”

She was strong and fast as she twisted away and to her feet. She was halfway to the dark window before Sean got off the bed, but instead of climbing out and running off, she stopped and pulled off her shirt.

Sean couldn’t move. He saw black lace cupping the generous curve of her breasts before Andrea unhooked her bra with one hand and started peeling off her jeans with the other.

Her naked breasts were firm and high, round peaches tipped with dusky red. Another slash of black lace enclosed her hips, and Sean lay transfixed as she stripped off the panties. Her slim waist flared to lush hips, with a wisp of black between her thighs. For one instant, Andrea and Sean looked at each other, she a woman bare for the man who wanted her. Then she shifted.

Shifter wolves were larger than natural, wild wolves, the females almost as large as the males. Andrea wasn’t as big as Sean’s wildcat but looked every bit as strong. Her fur was black, like her hair, her gray eyes the same shade as her human eyes, which was unusual. Most Shifters’ eyes changed with the shift—Sean’s became very light blue as did Liam’s; Glory’s turned to silver. Not Andrea’s. Hers stayed the same, smoky gray and beautiful.

These thoughts shot through his head seconds before Andrea turned and gracefully leapt out onto the porch roof. Sean sprang from the bed, tore off his clothes, shifted, and followed her.

A
ndrea, as a wolf, nosed around the clearing behind the house. The rain had stopped, the wind tearing gashes in the clouds, revealing the waxing moon. Sean sniffed the wind, but the air was clean. All scent of Fae had gone.

Sean shouldered past Andrea to the spot where he’d seen the Fae. He watched as Andrea, doglike, sniffed the dead leaves, pawing at them with one large foot. She looked up at Sean with her smoke gray eyes, again meeting his gaze without fear.

The dominance roles of Shifters were more obvious when they were animals, when verbal communication didn’t interfere. A thorough discussion of the Heisenberg uncertainty principle was out of the question, but Shifters could communicate basic emotions, the most simple signals being dominance and submission.

A submissive Feline or Lupine would keep his head lower than the dominant’s, or run a few paces behind them, or move aside for those more dominant in the pride. That was survival—the leader kept an eye out for enemies, and one growl sent the pride or pack either into hiding or into defensive positions. Stragglers or wanderers couldn’t be guarded. The leader protected, and the rest stayed out of his way or obeyed his commands without question, for their own safety.

What they didn’t do was stand in front of the dominant and look him straight in the eye. They didn’t deliberately turn away and start investigating the area of danger, not letting him take the lead. They didn’t twitched their tails derisively when the dominant growled at them to stay back.

Sean didn’t want Andrea walking across the place that the Fae had occupied. The line between the real world and Faerie blurred in places, and who knew whether that doorway would open suddenly, the warrior Fae ready to drag her in. He shouldered Andrea away from the spot, rumbling a long lion growl.

Andrea gave him a glare and curled her lip. The words
bite me
might as well have been stamped on her forehead.

So, Sean bit her.

Andrea whipped out from under him, whirled, and clamped her jaw around his throat. Sean snarled and shook her off. He shoved her to the ground with one big paw, the temper of his beast aroused.

Sean had wrestled with his brothers growing up, but he’d never fought with Lupines. The interspecies truce that kept them from tearing each other apart cautioned against even playful wrestling matches. Sean guessed Andrea had never read the pact or wouldn’t care if she had.

Andrea squirmed out from under him, rolled to her feet, and sprinted away. Sean sprinted right after her. Andrea stopped, then spun and faced him, down on her forepaws, rear in the air.

Oh, she wanted to play, did she? Sean let out a roar as he leapt at her. At the last moment, Andrea sidestepped, and Sean tumbled through air where she’d been. He scrambled to regain his feet only to find her behind him, her teeth in his tail. He yelped, whipped around, and this time sent her to the ground with him on top of her.

Under him, Andrea shifted back to human. “Get off me, you great big hairball.”

Sean held her down, her scent in his nostrils, her warm body writhing beneath his.
You shouldn’t do that to a horny Shifter.

Andrea wound her bare arms around him, hands in his mane, with a smile that would melt stone. “You’re so warm. Like a fur coat.”

Sean’s growl softened. He nuzzled her cheek, liking the feel of her human body against his furry one. He licked her gently between the breasts, her salt taste heady.

He couldn’t take this. He had to have her. He licked her again as he let his body shift back to its human form.

Andrea found herself holding a very naked, very aroused human male. Sean’s eyes changed from pale, slitted cat’s to dark blue, but the look in them was still untamed. He brushed his mouth over hers, then again and again. Her own longing coiled through her body, and she kissed him back with matching hunger.

Sean’s skin was slick with sweat under her hands, his mouth hot, body heavy. Excitement gripped her as Sean’s kisses opened her mouth, tongue sliding in, tasting, seeking.

Andrea’s blood pounded, her body singing as his hands heated her skin. His knee parted hers, his penis touching the opening that was wet and ready for him. She’d be lying her ass off if she said she didn’t want him.

His body enclosed hers as he kissed her, a Shifter protecting his mate even as he devoured her. Clouds shrouded the moon again, and it was dark under the trees, hiding them from watchers.

Sean bit her neck. He was silently urging her to raise her hips so he could slide inside, but at the same time he was holding himself back, every muscle shaking with the strain of it.

“Sean,” Andrea murmured, and it wasn’t a murmur of protest.