“I got you down here any way I could, because the humans were forcing us to leave,” Graham said. “If I didn’t agree that all my shithead Lupines would get on the buses and haul their asses to this Shiftertown, the humans were going to round us up and kill us all. Humanely, they said. Only humans could name a kind of killing after themselves. Notice they only apply it to animals.”
During the speech, the others moved uneasily. The sole woman, the second to one of the Las Vegas Lupine clan leaders, was the only one who kept still, her gaze on Graham. Females tended to be braver than males.
“You need to choose,” the woman said.
“I won’t choose you, Muriel,” Graham said. “You’re a total bitch.”
He kept his tone and stance casual, as though his clan leaders ganging up on him meant nothing to him. Inside, Graham’s heart was pounding, his mouth dry with the incessant thirst, his body heat high from the near-sex he’d had with Misty. He was drowning in feelings for her, mixed with annoyance at his Shifters and fear of what the Fae was doing to him.
“I wouldn’t touch you, Graham,” Muriel returned. “I’m already in a mate agreement.”
With another poor Lupine in Graham’s clan. An agreement they called it. She’d made the Lupine do that instead of outright mate-claim her, because Muriel wanted to keep her options open, in case she got a better offer.
“There are four unmated Lupine females among our three clans,” Norval said. “We expect you to choose one before the end of our first year in this Shiftertown. Such was your promise.”
“Things have changed.” Graham had been convinced once upon a time that any dilution of Shifter blood weakened the pack and could drag down an entire clan. But since moving here, he’d found his old ideas rearranging themselves. He’d met Iona, the half-human, half-Shifter woman Eric had mated with. He’d bet Iona could wipe up all six of these Lupines and have energy left over to take on Graham. Graham didn’t bring this up, because all Shifters had agreed not to talk about Iona’s half Shifterness. But they knew.
“You need to decide,” Norval said. “The clan leaders aren’t going to wait forever.”
Graham walked to Norval, stepping from grass to sidewalk, effectively leaving his territory to face Norval and the others on neutral ground. He didn’t need territory advantage to intimidate.
“That’s right,” Graham said. “I decide. And if I decide a human mate is the best thing for me and my clan, then you’ll have to live with it.”
“Or we challenge your leadership,” Norval said.
“Or you challenge my leadership.” Graham gave him a nod. Challenging a leader who endangered Shifters was every Shifter’s right. “But you’d better be prepared to win. And Goddess knows what Eric would say about it if you did win. You know what an interfering asshole he is.”
He heard growls from the Las Vegas Lupines, anger at Graham for talking about Eric like that. They liked Eric leading them, Goddess help them. Lupines giving themselves over to Felines. What’s the world coming to?
“Tell you what,” Graham said. “You all go home and decide among yourselves which clan you think should be dominant. Because if I pick a female from one of your clans, you know that clan will increase in power. I hope you’re all cool with that. Once you figure out which of you should outrank the other, come back and present your females. Then I’ll give you my final answer.”
The leaders didn’t look at each other, but Graham saw them move a little bit apart from each other. Subtly.
That should shut them up for a while. They’d been so focused on forcing Graham to make a decision—or refuse to, giving them the incentive they needed to try for a leadership grab—that they hadn’t thought about the fact that Graham’s mate would increase dominance of her clan.
It was all stupid anyway, because the humans didn’t like Shifters changing leadership. The humans thought they assigned leadership; they’d barely accepted Graham to stay leader of his Shifters. Eric and Graham had talked long and hard to convince them that Graham was best at keeping the Elko Shifters under control. The humans wanted the Shifters to live quietly and not cause trouble, so they’d agreed.
Shifters knew who led and who didn’t, regardless of what humans thought, but they sometimes had to be covert about it.
“Go chew on that,” Graham said. “And stop looking in my windows.”
“You have to take a mate sooner or later,” Norval said. “You know that.”
Norval delivered his declaration with a sharp nod of his head, then he walked away, carefully not turning his back in Graham’s direction. His second drifted after him.
The Las Vegas leaders walked away too, only Muriel giving Graham any kind of deferential farewell.
Graham knew Norval was right. If Graham’s son had survived—he’d be full-grown and powerful by now—then his Shifters wouldn’t give him so much grief about his mate. Eric’s choice of half-human, half-Shifter Iona hadn’t caused a murmur, because Eric had Jace, a strong son, plus his sister Cassidy was very dominant.
Graham had no one. Only Dougal, his out-of-control nephew. The few other members of his clan were distant relations, and several were equal in dominance with each other—no clear path to clan leadership. If Graham dropped dead, there would be a battle. The only way to prevent it was to take a strong Shifter mate and start putting out cubs. The more cubs the better.
Graham waited until the Lupines had faded into the darkness, their scents growing fainter. Only when he knew they were truly gone did he return to the house, wanting Misty.
He glanced up at the house and saw two small wolf faces peering down at him from the spare bedroom window. Little shits. They were supposed to be asleep.
But they watched him all the way in, and he knew they’d heard every word. When he opened the door of their bedroom upstairs, Kyle and Matt were curled up on the bed again, head to head, tail to tail, pretending to snore.
• • •
Misty woke to early-morning sunshine pouring through the window, a stiffness in her body, and strange satisfaction. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was, then she saw she still lay in Graham’s bed.
Of Graham, there was no sign. The bed bore only Misty’s imprint and rumpled covers. Graham must have slept elsewhere.
Misty climbed out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was completely naked and had no idea where her clothes were. Still downstairs in the kitchen?
No, they’d been hung over the back of a wooden chair near Graham’s bedroom door. Well, dropped haphazardly over the wooden chair. Graham wasn’t the kind of man who sent out his lady’s clothes to be cleaned and pressed then greeted her with breakfast in bed, including a rosebud in a vase.
Graham was himself. Misty had the feeling that, to him, romance was a word in an ancient, lost language.
The bathroom was clean though. New and nice. Misty showered, using plain bar soap and generic shampoo. No frills for the McNeils.
She dressed and went downstairs, hoping she could find utensils and ingredients for breakfast. The kitchen was as she’d left it, no change. The cubs weren’t here or frolicking in the yard. They weren’t in the house at all—they hadn’t been in bed, and no way were they in here and not making noise. No one was in the house but Misty.
No sign of Graham, cubs, or Dougal in the backyard or in the front. They’d left, going who-knew-where, without bothering to leave so much as a note.
Not Misty’s business, right? She should walk out, get into her borrowed car, and drive back home.
Disappearing without saying good-bye, though, especially after what she and Graham had done last night, felt wrong. She wanted to see Graham, to kiss him good morning, to see his smile and hear his rough-voiced teasing.
Matt and Kyle had confessed they’d gone to a basement of an unfinished house, and from there had somehow made it to Misty’s store. Had someon
e snatched them, drugged them, carried them off? And why dump them in a car outside Misty’s shop?
It was six o’clock, but the sun was up, the temperature already climbing. In the summer, desert dwellers did anything outdoorsy early, and then stayed inside with the AC for the hot afternoon. If Graham wanted to explore the scene of the crime in daylight, he’d have done it now.
Not her business, Misty repeated silently.
Oh, screw it. Misty wanted to know whatever it was they found. She cared about the cubs too, no denying it. She cared about Dougal and Graham, and her Shifter friends. Misty was in this now, no going back, no matter how much she and Graham danced back and forth on their relationship.
Misty put on her sandals and walked outside through the kitchen door. A step led down into a backyard with a patch of grass and a path connecting it to a common area between the houses.
Unlike many of the neighborhoods in Las Vegas, a block wall did not surround every yard in Shiftertown. Graham had told her Shifters didn’t need walls. Each Shifter knew where his territory ended and another Shifter’s began. If humans had as good a sense of smell as Shifters did, he said, they wouldn’t need walls either.
Misty stepped into the common area and headed toward the first unfinished house she saw down the way. Two seconds later, a woman was in front of her, one tall and gray-eyed, her dark hair a bit shaggy. A Lupine, Misty guessed.
She eyed Misty coldly, and Misty stopped.
“Stay away from Graham,” the woman said.
Misty hid a sigh. Facing jealous females was not something she liked to do. It always made her feel twelve years old, confronting a mean girl in the school cafeteria.
“That’s for me and Graham to decide,” Misty said.
“No, it isn’t.” The Lupine woman came close, invading Misty’s personal space. Shifters did that when they decided they were dominant to you. Graham did it all the time. “Graham mates for the good of his clan, for Shiftertown,” the woman said. “You’re not good for us. So go away.”
“He isn’t mating with me.”
The woman inhaled, her eyes narrowing. Misty knew she’d washed thoroughly with the deodorant soap, but Shifters had phenomenal senses of smell. They could strip scent down into layers and time, like archeologists uncovering civilizations.
“You reek of sex and his seed. Don’t lie with him again. A by-blow will help no one. Might even hurt you.”
Misty had also learned that when faced with a mean girl, she should look said girl straight in the eye and not back down. Sometimes this had led to Misty getting beaten up, but she’d always fought back with gusto, which had earned her a little respect.
“I’m not sure I like that you know what Graham’s seed smells like,” Misty said. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s Graham’s business, and mine. Not yours.”
“That’s what you think, bitch.”
So some of the mean girls in the cafeteria had said. But those girls hadn’t had Shifter strength, or the huge, clawed hands that now came at Misty’s face.
Misty ducked, shielding herself with her arms, hoping she could fend off the woman and not die. But the blow never came. Misty peeked out from under her arm, and found Dougal shoving the woman backward, his face half shifted to wolf, his claws extended, his voice guttural.
“Don’t touch her.”
“Stay out of this, cub,” the woman snarled.
“Not cub. Not anymore. She’s Graham’s. You touch her, you answer to him.”
The woman had stopped, also half changed to wolf. Her growl was furious, but Misty saw her realize that Dougal had a point. Graham never bothered with calm negotiation when he was angry.
“Tell Graham she’s got to go,” the woman said, her voice harsh. “If the other Lupines decide to take her out, there’s nothing he can do.”
Take her out? Not something Misty wanted to hear.
With a final sneer, the Lupine woman receded to human form and jogged away. Dougal, also back to his human shape, returned to Misty.
“You all right?”
“Yes.” Misty dragged in a breath. “Thank you.”
“Tell Uncle Graham I saved your ass, all right?” Dougal said. “He thinks I’m a complete wuss. If you’re looking for him, follow me. I know where he is.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Graham peered around the darkness of the dug-out basement once the cubs had figured out which house they’d been exploring. They’d taken a while deciding, which had involved dashing back and forth, running in circles around Graham, and sitting on their small wolf butts and howling.
Finally the two agreed that they’d been exploring the basement in the second unfinished house from the end. The stud walls had been raised on the main floor, and now workers were putting in the plumbing and other pipes needed to fit the houses for modern living.
The basements were a secret. Most houses in this city were built on solid concrete slabs, with wiring and pipes in the walls and ceiling. Basements around here could fill with noxious gasses, not to mention desert creatures looking for places to nest.
Shifter basements were different though, whole other worlds. Shifters had dug out the basements of these houses at night, using equipment Iona made sure her construction workers left behind. They hid the evidence by constructing a solid ceiling that could be reinforced enough to take the concrete slab and weight of the house later.
Shifters had been building secret places for centuries. Territory could be invaded by other Shifter clans or encroached upon by humans at any time, so they’d made sure they had places to go to ground and survive, and to keep their most important treasures safe.
To invade another Shifter’s secret territory could be death to the invader. It had been in the old days. Most Shifters, however, weren’t foolish enough to try to enter another’s secret hideaway, sensitive to the fact that they had their own hideaways to guard.
Cubs, on the other hand, needed to be taught. These basements weren’t finished yet, and held no secrets. But the Shifters who moved in here would be itchy for a long time because of the scents Graham and the cubs were leaving.
And Dougal’s and Misty’s scents. Graham smelled them coming, even before he heard Misty’s light footsteps as she climbed down the ladder. Dougal was more surefooted and quiet, but he was talking.
To Misty. The usually silent, sullen Dougal was talking to a female. But then, Dougal and Misty were about the same age. Misty acted much older than Dougal, but humans matured quickly. Had to.
Graham waited for them to catch up. “What?”
Misty gave him the look that said he was hopeless. “I was worried about you and the cubs. There’s a Fae on the loose, remember?”
“I know,” Graham said in a hard voice. “Exactly why I left you safely in my house. Which you’re going back to now.”
Misty folded her arms, which pushed up her breasts under her little tank top. “You know, when I was growing up and raising Paul, he had a favorite saying when I told him what to do too often.”
Graham wrenched his gaze from her breasts and moved it to her face. “I’m going to regret asking what it was, aren’t I?”
“He’d say, You’re not the boss of me.”
“That’s funny.” Graham came close to her. The nearness of her almost knocked him over. He needed her. Needed to touch, to taste, to feel her under him. “Guess what? When you’re a guest in Shiftertown, I am the boss of you. Dougal, take her back home.”
Instead of leaping to obey, Dougal stood his ground and put on his obstinate face. “Tell him, Misty.”
Misty blinked at Dougal, her angry look fading. “You mean now?”
“Tell him. I’m tired of him treating me like a cub.”
“Tell me what?” Graham’s voice echoed through the basement. The wolf cubs stopped their frantic running around and sat down again.
M
isty was calm as could be. “That Dougal is not a wuss. He saved my life.”
Graham’s fears roared to the surface. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Jan was sniffing around,” Dougal said. “She tried to go at Misty. I stopped her.”
Graham stilled. Dougal’s fists clenched, and he looked shaky and sick, but he was alive and whole, not a pulp of Shifter dust on the ground. “I bet Muriel sent her,” Graham said, but distantly.
“Probably,” Dougal said. “Misty stood up to her though. Told her to stay out of your business.”
Graham pinned Misty with a hard stare. She stared right back at him, straight into his eyes. Graham didn’t like lesser beings who met his gaze, but Misty always had. He’d cut her some slack because she was human and didn’t understand what the gesture meant, but the fact that she could do it intrigued him. Not many humans could withstand Graham’s stare.
“Did you look at Jan when you said that to her?” Graham asked Misty. “The way you look at me?”
“Yes.” Misty’s brows drew down in puzzlement. “Where else would I be looking? The trees? She was ready to pounce on me—I thought I should keep my eye on her.”
Graham relaxed a little, his worry receding even if his thirst didn’t. “Dougal.”
Dougal flushed, but his eyes held defiance. “I’m not apologizing to Jan.”
Misty looked perplexed. “Why should Dougal apologize? Jan was the one threatening me. Dougal was just trying to help. Never let a bully get away with it, I always say. They’ll just bully you some more.”
Graham laid his large hand on Dougal’s shoulder and yanked the young man into a hard hug. Dougal was shaking, but his shakes lessened as Graham held him close.
Graham released him after a few moments and patted his shoulders again. Dougal stepped back, wiping his eyes, but he stood a little straighter.
Misty had her hands on her hips. “What just happened?”