Shifters Unbound: Mate Claimed Part 9

A female heavy with child would have the strongest scent, so Eric went to Ca.s.sidy, 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-hards.h.i.+p and good times, joy and grief, always there for each other. Eric held Ca.s.sidy for a long time, rubbing her back and kissing her hair, while she hugged him in return without question.

Eric released Ca.s.sidy 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 s.h.i.+fter backyards, knowing d.a.m.n 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 s.p.a.ce. Graham knew why Eric had chosen it-the table could be watched by any number of s.h.i.+fters out their back windows, even in the moonlight.

Eric's s.h.i.+fters, that is. If Graham so much as raised his voice to Eric, those s.h.i.+fters 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 a.s.s 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 leaders.h.i.+p 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 s.h.i.+ftertown leader was ecstatic about his sister giving birth to a half human, half s.h.i.+fter. 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 leaders.h.i.+p tonight, though. His nephew's behavior this afternoon had reminded him of a need, and also reminded him that this s.h.i.+ftertown 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 a.s.shole-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."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Eric didn't blink, but Graham scented the amazement that jolted through the Feline's body. He hadn't been expecting that.

After a deliberate silence, Eric asked, "Why can't you mate with someone from your own s.h.i.+ftertown?"

"Because the only surviving females belong to my clan, too closely related to me. I need fresh blood."

The fresh blood p.i.s.sed Warden off, but too bad. Graham needed a wolf female from a new gene pool to give him strong cubs.

Eric's voice held a warning growl. "I don't tell my s.h.i.+fters who to mate with."

"That's obvious. You let your own sister mate with a human. How f.u.c.ked up is that?"

"They share the mate bond."

"A s.h.i.+fter can't share a mate bond with a human." Everyone knew that. "Your sister's fooling herself if she thinks so."

"You've lived out in the sticks too long. It happens."

"Yeah, I heard the leader of the Austin s.h.i.+ftertown mated with a human. d.i.c.khead. Just proves that Felines are insane. Doesn't matter. You've got unmated wolves here. Tell them to come see me. I need someone alpha, not bottom of the pack."

"If you want a mate, McNeil, you're on your own. The females here choose for themselves."

What an idiot. "G.o.ddess, what kind of leader are you? I'm offering you the chance to make a good alliance with me. If you do, I might let you survive when I take you down."

"I'm touched," Eric said dryly. "My females are welcome to take your offer or spit on you, as they choose." He paused. "Although, now that I think about it, Nell is getting lonely for a mate."

He knew Eric was trying to be funny, but Graham's irritation rose. "You mean that crazy-a.s.s bear with the shotgun? Bears are even worse than Felines. You need to keep her under control."

"I'll tell her you said 'hi.'" Eric rested his hands on his knees, a posture that said he didn't need to bother being defensive. "Was that it? Because my human brother-in-law is a h.e.l.l of a chef, and I want a taste of what he's making tonight."

"You've gone soft, living here."

"We've survived, living here," Eric said. "Fewer deaths, more cubs."

"Yeah, yeah, s.h.i.+ftertown is paradise and all that bulls.h.i.+t. Our houses have to be altered. I have plenty of stuff to move down here, and I don't need the humans finding it."

"I'm taking care of it."

"So you say. I don't trust you."

Eric's green eyes narrowed. "Too d.a.m.n bad. Are you cleaning up your s.h.i.+ftertown behind you? I don't want humans raiding here because they found all the hidey-holes you left behind."

"Being taken care of even as we speak. My crew is reliable."

Eric stood up, acting nonchalant, but at the same time maintaining the few feet of distance between them. Warden didn't move his gaze, though. His eyes had been on Graham's the whole time.

"My crew is reliable to get the houses altered," Eric said. "I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, don't hara.s.s my wolves. If a female spits in your face after your romantic proposal, suck it up."

Graham gave him the finger. Eric didn't respond, except to casually turn his back and walk away.

Graham let him go. He didn't trust Warden an inch, but Graham had decided to let him know about his mate need as a courtesy. A good leader did that. He didn't trust Eric about the houses either, but when Graham was leader, that wouldn't matter.

Now to do exactly what he'd planned to do, and to h.e.l.l with Warden.

Three days pa.s.sed, and Nicole's wedding rushed at Iona with sickening speed. Iona wanted Nicole married and happy, yes, but things would never be the same between them again. Iona was going to miss her little sister.

Iona picked up her bridesmaid's dress from the bridal boutique the day before the wedding and looked it over in her bedroom at home. The gown wasn't too appalling, thank heavens, because Nicole had taste. The skirt was an ankle-length sheath of royal blue, slit to the thigh on one side, the top a satin tank with inch-thick shoulder straps. That was it. No tulle or poofiness anywhere.

Iona hung the gown carefully in her closet so it wouldn't get wrinkled, and changed into a black linen pantsuit with a white sleeveless s.h.i.+rt for the wedding rehearsal. When she and Nicole and friends transitioned to the bachelorette party, here at Iona's house, she could shuck the linen blazer and be comfortable in just the top and pants.

Iona wondered, as she left the house, what Eric would think of her outfit. She knew he'd see it, because while Eric hadn't called Iona or shown up out of the blue in the last few days, he'd been watching her.

He was good at it, never lingering too long in one place, staying in the shadows or melting back into a crowd when she looked for him. He covered his Collar with s.h.i.+rt or jacket and somehow made himself look smaller and more human, so that no one noticed a s.h.i.+fter hanging out on the streets with them.

But Iona knew he was there. She'd catch a whiff of his scent or see a movement that was unmistakably Eric.

He watched her go to work, appeared at building sites she visited, was there in the evenings when she got into her truck to drive home. Whenever Iona looked out her bedroom window in the middle of the night, she swore she caught a glimpse of Eric in the street below.

Didn't he have better things to do? Like run s.h.i.+ftertown? Maybe she should call Diego again and tell him to post security on his brother-in-law.

Iona didn't see Eric anywhere nearby when she arrived at the church for the rehearsal. Why did that disappoint her?

Iona entered the church, the last to get there, to find Nicole talking excitedly with her bridesmaids. Tyler, the groom, stood next to Nicole, a stunned look on his face. He'd worn the look ever since Nicole, who'd taken Iona's advice and gone to her doctor, had told him she was pregnant. Happy, but stunned.

"Hey, Tyler," Iona said, giving him a brief hug. "How's Daddy?"

"Fine." Tyler sent her a sheepish smile. "Just fine."

"This wedding stuff will be over soon. And then you'll have Nicole all to yourself."

"Sure," Tyler said. "Over. Right."

Iona rubbed his shoulders. "Don't worry, you can get nice and drunk tonight. Just make sure you can stand up in the morning long enough to say the vows. And don't drop the ring."

"You're all heart, Iona."

Iona gave him a peck on the cheek and turned to embrace her sister. The scent of the child growing inside Nikki had strengthened, even in such a short time. The scent sparked the need Iona had been fighting the last few days, fanning it to life.

She backed off and moved halfway down the aisle, pretending she wanted to sit down. She couldn't trust her eyes to not go s.h.i.+fter around Nicole, or the mating need not to start making her sprout fur.

Iona breathed a sigh of relief when the rehearsal began. Remembering what she had to do would keep her mind off s.h.i.+fting-and mating-she hoped.

As the maid of honor, Iona had to lead the other bridesmaids down the aisle, timing her steps to avoid rus.h.i.+ng or going too slowly. She'd stand to the left of her sister and hold the bridal bouquet while Tyler put the ring on Nicole's finger. She'd then wait until everyone went back down the aisle and pair up with Tyler's brother, Clay, the best man, to walk out with him.

Iona liked Clay, but she felt a little uneasy with him. When Tyler and Nicole had first started getting serious, Clay had thought it would be great if he and Iona paired up too. Iona had put him off-she didn't want to tell him that a) she sometimes s.h.i.+fted into a panther, and b) she would probably live twice as long as he would, which is what her research told her half human, half s.h.i.+fters did. Though she looked the same age as Clay, she was ten years older than he was already. Clay got the hint that Iona wasn't interested, but he still showed hope around her.

After the rehearsal, they all left the church for the rehearsal dinner. Iona didn't see Eric between church and restaurant, nor did she when she returned home to finish prepping for Nicole's party. Nicole and her friends arrived soon after, and the party started to swing.

Well toward midnight, the doorbell rang. Iona pretended to be busy in the kitchen, and Nicole's friends goaded Nicole to answer it.

Nicole screamed with laughter when a fireman sauntered into the house, complete with hose, and started shedding his gear in the living room. The women surrounded him while he danced to a thumping beat, and Iona watched from the doorway with a smile.

The music wound louder. The music, combined with the women's excitement, embraced Iona and made her want to dance too. The living room was dim except for the middle where the stripper gyrated-someone had turned on one of Iona's ceiling spots and killed the rest of the lights. The girls danced with him, Nicole laughing as the man wrapped his hose around her.

Nicole spotted Iona in the doorway. "Come on, Iona," she yelled. "You know you love to dance!"

Iona shouldn't. Too dangerous. But the music called to her, the rhythm synching with some rhythm inside her body. The thrum, thrum, thrum was fierce and primal.

The ladies whooped as Iona kicked her shoes off and danced in. The stripper grinned, a good sport, and wrapped the end of his fire hose around her waist.

Iona raised her arms in the dance, her blood getting hot, but not because the guy was attractive. He smelled too much of human sweat and cologne, not a good combination to a s.h.i.+fter. Eric always smelled clean, like wind and the night.

But Iona was loving the dance, her hips swaying, the beat of the music like the rhythm of s.e.x. The stripper was a good dancer, smoothly pulling Iona into synch with him. He had Iona straddling his knee, locking her in close as they rocked together. The other ladies whooped and screamed.

The noise and heat grew suddenly too intense. The panther inside Iona wanted to tear away from the man who held her, swat him aside, and then run around the room, ripping down decorations like an unruly kitten. Then she'd devour the entire hors d'oeuvre tray, especially all the shrimp c.o.c.ktail. Yum.

Control, Eric had told her. You can control it.

Maybe if she'd grown up s.h.i.+fter with years of training and discipline, she could have.

The fireman leaned in and tried to kiss her. Iona forced a laugh, though she wanted to bite his face off. She whirled so hard she untangled from the hose and was halfway across the room before he could stop her.

She nearly ran away from him, but two of the other girls instantly took her place, and the fireman turned to them, not minding. Breathing hard, Iona slipped out of the room into the back hall, seeking peace in the relative coolness and darkness.

Two strong arms folded around her from behind. Iona found herself trapped back against a hard male chest, while a grating voice said in her ear, "No, Iona. You belong to me."

CHAPTER NINE.

"Eric, what the h.e.l.l are you doing here?" Iona asked in a loud whisper.

For answer, Eric turned her around and pressed her into the wall.

His kiss stole her breath, his lips forcing her mouth open, teeth sc.r.a.ping. The thump of the music in the other room pulsed through her, and she curled her fingers on Eric's chest. Fingers became claws, tearing Eric's s.h.i.+rt.

Eric shed the s.h.i.+rt and turned them together so that now his back was against the wall. "If you want to feast on someone, you feast on me."

I didn't want to, she tried to say, but the words stuck in her throat.

Iona put her nose to the curve of his neck, inhaling his scent as he'd taught her to. Eric smelled of the outdoors and a little wildness, no cologne or too much sweat to cover it up.

She licked him. Eric made a noise in his throat, hand coming up to cradle her head.

Feast on him. Yes. Iona licked again, tasting the salt of his skin. She moved her mouth to the tattoo on his bare shoulder, tongue finding the outlines of the ink. She tasted and licked, more salt and the taste of Eric, then she nibbled his skin. A growl escaped his lips, drowned by the music.

They stood only a few yards from the living room, hidden in the darkness in the narrow pa.s.sage, while Nicole and her friends laughed and screamed, and the music throbbed.

Iona nipped Eric's throat while he held her against him. She licked her way down to his pecs, fingers playing with the wiry hair dusting his chest.