Primal Bonds

CHAPTER TWELVE

The sword was calling to her.

Andrea lay still in the moonlight, listening, wondering whether she were dreaming. Sean’s arm was heavy around her, pinning her in his sleep.

The words weren’t English. They were liquid sounds, flowing like music. Andrea had never learned the language of Faerie, or the Celtic or Gaelic that Shifters from Ireland and Scotland knew. She wasn’t even certain that what she heard was a language at all.

The sword was downstairs still, yet she had no doubt that the whispers that snaked into her mind came from it. The sound was tinged with silver, though practical Andrea knew sound had no color. This one seemed to.

Andrea carefully slid out from under Sean’s arm, shivering as her skin met the cold air. Sean frowned in his sleep as she left the bed, but he didn’t wake.

Andrea moved softly down the stairs, knowing the house was empty. The rooms were dark, no lights to betray her to anyone walking by outside.

The sword was in the living room, lying across a table like a sentinel, an oblong cross in its plain sheath. The runes on the sheath and hilt glowed faintly in the moonlight.

The whispers increased as Andrea approached, the sounds more rapid. Andrea folded her arms across her chest, certain she didn’t want to touch it.

Bring it to me, the Fae man had said. He’d stood out there under the trees, tall and beautiful in his shimmering armor, his eyes dark gray, almost black. Bring me the Sword of the Guardian. It is the most important thing you will ever do.

The arrogant Fae had been surprised when Andrea had put her hands on her hips, cocked her head, and said, And why should I believe you?

For an instant, he’d shown his rage, fury that a mere half-Fae woman would disobey him. Then his look had softened, and he’d said, Because I gave life to you. Your mother was my only love, and you, Andrea Gray, are my daughter.

The shock of his words had dried her mouth, but Andrea shook her head. Weak card, Fae-man. Even if I did believe you, it wouldn’t make me give you the sword. My father was a complete bastard who deserted my mother because he didn’t care about anyone but himself.

He’d gazed at her with Fae-dark eyes, black in his pale face. I had to leave. The time between has been long. And now, you ...

You’ve been coming to me in my dreams, and now you claim to be my father. If you think I’ll fall on my knees and beg to obey you, you’re a complete fool.

To her surprise, the Fae had smiled. Ah, Andrea. You are so like your mother. He reached for her. Her death took the heart out of me, child. Perhaps you could put it back.

Don’t even think about touching me.

The Fae dropped his hand to his side. No. You must touch me. Touch my skin, and I will prove it to you. I will show you ...

Curious in spite of herself, Andrea had been reaching for him when Sean had barreled into her, and the Fae had blinked out.

Andrea had been angry at Sean for stopping her, but she understood, when she’d calmed, why Sean had done it. Fae were treacherous. They weren’t as strong in the human world as they once were, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t do plenty of damage if they managed to cross over. Just because this Fae knew Andrea’s name and said heart-wrenching things about her mother didn’t mean he told the truth. He could be anybody, could have forced knowledge out of her real father, and for whatever purpose the man wanted the sword, it couldn’t be good for Shifters.

The sword continued its rapid, musical whispers as she approached. The runes glowed and quivered, and Andrea’s sleep-blurred eyes saw a glow rise from the hilt in fine threads, the same as she’d envisioned when she’d healed Ely.

Andrea reached for the hilt. A strange reluctance to touch the sword stole over her, but she let her hand hover just above the metal. The threads of light reached for her, touched her palm, tingled.

She jumped, but this touch was different from the touch of the threads in her nightmares. Those threads tried to bind and suffocate her; these caressed her skin and continued their tingling dance. The feeling was warm, comforting.

Andrea moved her hand down the sword, and the threads followed. The sparks were tiny, barely discernable, and moonlight gleamed hard down the length of the sword.

Sean’s sword. Part of him and now trying to be part of her.

Andrea had to smile. His other sword had been part of her tonight too. Sean had truly claimed her, and she’d loved every second of it.

Bring it to me.

The Fae’s remembered command echoed in her head. Andrea pictured herself taking up the sword and carrying it outside into the moonlit clearing to hand it to the tall Fae who would be waiting.

Except there shouldn’t be a moonlit clearing, because it was raining outside. Droplets of rain pattered outside the window and had been this entire time, but Andrea hadn’t noticed them. As soon as she glanced at the window, whatever had passed for moonlight died, though the threads continued to seek her hand.

When she’d healed Ely, she’d cut herself on the blade. She studied the streak across her palm and noted that it had narrowed and dried to a very thin streak.

The sword had touched her blood, and her blood was on the sword.

Did that mean something? Or nothing at all?

“What are you doing, love?”

The floorboards creaked as Sean crossed to her, and then he was behind her, six and a half feet of naked male leaning over Andrea’s equally naked body. His skimmed kisses to her neck, his breath heating her.

“I think your sword likes me,” Andrea said.

Sean’s chuckle sent ripples of warmth into her ear. “Oh, my sword certainly does, love.”

“I meant the one on the table.”

“I didn’t.”

The firm length of him rubbed her buttocks, making her smile. Her thoughts of the Fae, threads, healing, and the Sword of the Guardian dissolved and fled as she turned around and buried herself in Sean’s kiss.

“I’m thinking this one needs your touch, Sean,” Liam said the next morning.

Sean’s surprise that Liam wanted him to go solo got buried beneath his memories of waking up next to Andrea. They hadn’t opened their eyes long before he was making love to her again, feeling himself surrounded with all of her. The scent of her filled his thoughts and every breath he took.

Glory had come home while they’d kissed and whispered afterward, and she’d called up the stairs that if they were finished humping each other, she’d make them breakfast. Then Liam had phoned, asking for Sean’s assistance.

“Go talk to them as the Guardian,” Liam said. “Flash your sword. They’ll get the message.”

In other words Sean’s message would be: If you think I’m scary, wait until you meet my brother.

Sean thought he understood a second reason why Liam was sending him. “Kim doesn’t want you going after them, does she?”

Liam grimaced. “Kim’s not being reasonable about this.”

Sean wanted to laugh. He could imagine that argument. “She’s right, though. You need to stay nearby.” A man needed to protect his mate and his unborn cub. “I’ll take Andrea along.”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

Sean thought it was a good idea never to stray far from Andrea’s side again. “She’ll be able to point out who was saying what, help me figure out who is the ringleader so I can take him out first. Besides, I’m not leaving her alone here.” Not with Fae men popping into Shiftertown, and Andrea deciding to run off places by herself.

“She’s not alone anymore, Sean.” Liam’s eyes changed to dark blue, as they did when he was deeply contented. “She’s family now.”

“I’m still trying to convince her of that.”

Liam’s knowing look said it all. He’d known damn well when Sean had walked in here this morning that Sean and Andrea had made love most of the night and on into morning. Deep, satisfying love.

Liam pulled Sean into a tight embrace and nuzzled his cheek, one brother congratulating another. “Go explain to some Felines what we’re trying to do here, Sean. We split into factions among ourselves, we’ll never get these Collars off and ourselves out of Shiftertowns. Don’t kill anyone, though. The last thing we’ll be needing is having to explain to the humans why a few Shifters have become dust.”

Sean released Liam and gave him a caressing pat. “No deaths today. Got it.”

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t hold back on the threats, though.”

“I wasn’t planning to. I’ll be my intimidating best, don’t you be worrying.”

Liam’s look turned serious. “And if any of those bastards know who put Ely in the hospital, beat it out of them. The shooter’s going to pay for that.”

“Consider it done,” Sean said, and he departed.

Glory watched Sean and Andrea ride off in her car she’d agreed they could borrow at the same time Dylan’s pickup pulled to a stop in front of her house. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday afternoon at Liam’s, which had only made this decision easier.

Still, her stomach churned acid as Dylan left the truck and mounted the porch stairs, his stride measured, his head down, thinking about something. Glory was willing to bet that the something wasn’t her.

Glory’s first floor was one large square, the kitchen and dinette open to the living room. She came around the counter as Dylan closed the door, slid off his jacket, and laid it on the sofa. His eyes flickered when he saw her, as though he had to force himself back from wherever he’d been to the here and now. Or her and now.

He didn’t reach for her; Dylan rarely did so right away. Glory sensed that he was troubled about something and didn’t necessarily want to talk, but she made herself look him straight in the eye. If Andrea could do it, so could she.

“Dylan,” she said calmly. “Get out.”

Dylan blinked in surprise for one second, then he pinned her with eyes of hot blue, the dominant focusing on the immediate problem.

Glory swallowed but stood her ground. “Did you hear me? I said, get out of my house.”

“Why?” The word was quiet, unworried.

Her temper splintered. “Why the hell do you think? You always assume I’ll be here, waiting for you, whenever you’re finished with whatever Shiftertown business you have. Glory will be here, available to soothe your troubles. Did it ever occur to you that I get tired of waiting for you to decide to come around?”

“No, it didn’t.”

The honest answer hit her like a stinging slap. “That’s why I want you out,” Glory said, throat tight. “You remember me when it’s convenient. Other than that, I don’t matter to you. I don’t need you, Dylan. There are plenty of other fish in the sea. Or Felines, Lupines, Ursines, and humans.”

Dylan kept staring at her. The alpha stare, the dominant in him telling her to look away, back down, admit she had no right to tell him what to do.

“This is my house, Dylan,” she made herself say. “Please leave it.”

He continued looking at her with his hard assessment. “You really want that?”

“No.” Glory’s throat worked, almost choking her words. “What I want is for you to tell me that you love me, that you want us to be mated, that you want to stay forever. That’s what I want. But I’ve finally made myself realize it’s not what I’m going to get. So I’d rather you go, instead of having my heart torn out every time I look at you.”

“Glory.”

Damn him, he couldn’t stop being the alpha. He wouldn’t look upset or uneasy, couldn’t show any sign of conceding.

“What?” she snapped.

“Things are difficult for me at the moment. My whole world has changed, and I don’t know where I fit into it anymore.”

His words tugged at Glory’s heart, but he wasn’t getting off that easy. “What has that to do with choosing a mate?”

“I chose a mate once upon a time. She died.”

“I know that. I’m sorry. Really, I am. I lost my mate too, you know I did.”

That had been a hundred years ago. Glory’s pack and her mate’s had lived rough in the heart of the Rockies, but they’d been happy. Glory was robust even for a Shifter female, but fecundity had been low in both packs, and she’d never conceived. Within a year of her mate blessing, her mate’s pack had been attacked by ferals, and they’d been wiped out, down to the last wolf. Her mate had hidden her beforehand so that she’d be safe, a decision Glory had fought like fury, but she realized now that if she hadn’t obeyed him, she’d be dead too. The ferals would have taken her, used her, and let her die.

Her parents’ pack had found her days later, lying in shock among the dead. The Guardian had sent the souls of the entire pack to the afterlife, and Glory had been taken back to her family. She’d never wanted to mate again.

That is, until her pack had been relocated to this Shiftertown twenty years ago, and she’d moved in next door to Dylan. Life went on, she’d learned, even after horror.

“I know,” Dylan said. Glory had told him the entire story, which he would have heard anyway from Wade, her pack leader, even if she hadn’t. No one kept secrets from Dylan.

Glory drew a breath. “I’m not trying to tell you to get over Niamh. I’m saying I want more than an on-again, off-again affair with you. There is happiness in the world, Dylan, in spite of everything, and I want it. If you can’t give it to me, then I don’t want you here.” She wet her lips. “I don’t want you tearing me apart.”

Dylan moved to Glory slowly, as he might toward a hurt cub. His hands on her shoulders nearly undid her. “You are so strong.” He caressed her skin below her Collar. “So strong that I never knew you were hurting.”

“I guess I hide it well.”

“You do, that.” Dylan leaned closer and nuzzled her. “I’m sorry, my girl,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I can’t be what you want.”

The tears slid out before Glory could blink them back. “Then you understand why I need you to leave?”

Dylan nodded. He nuzzled her again, and his lips grazed her cheek. When he backed away, she thought she would die of grief.

Not the same, her common sense told her. He’s not dying; he’s just leaving. But right now, her heart couldn’t tell the difference. Gone was gone.

“You’ll want your things,” she said in a strangled voice. Not that he’d brought much into her house; the entirety would fit into an overnight bag.

“Throw them away. Or leave them outside the door and I’ll have Liam fetch them later. Your choice.”

Possessions meant so little to a Shifter, especially this Shifter. “What will you do?” she asked.

Dylan shrugged, gave her a little smile. “Who knows? But I’m good at taking care of myself. Didn’t I have to raise three sons on my own?”

Glory nodded, unable to speak anymore. Dylan wiped a tear from her cheek and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Be well, love.”

And then he left her, walking out the door and back down the porch steps in the same even stride he’d used to mount them. Without stopping, looking back, or even glancing at his own house, he got into his pickup, started it, and pulled smoothly away.

Glory waited until the sound of the truck had faded into the distance, then she walked upstairs, entered her bedroom that still smelled of him, and pulled down the shades. Only then did she let herself fall across the bed and weep until she had no tears left.

“So what did you think of my dad?” Andrea asked as Sean drove rapidly down Thirty-Fifth. “My stepdad, I mean.”

Sean glanced at her, his eyes still holding the fires they had last night and this morning, and again when he came to tell her that Liam wanted them to go back to the bar in north Austin. The throbbing of the bond hadn’t gone away. She felt it wrapping around her heart, squeezing tight.

“I liked him,” Sean was saying. “You said he was a good man, and he is, I could see that.”

“I miss him.” Andrea sighed.

“I can try to have him transferred here, if you want. And if he’d be wanting that. It would mean leaving his pack.”

“You can do that? The humans told him he couldn’t come with me, and then a pack here would have to let him in ...”

“You let me and Liam worry about that.”

He had such power and spoke about it so casually, hands resting lightly on the wheel. His generosity touched her.

She grinned at him. “If you’re this nice to all the girls you get into your bed, I’m surprised you don’t have a line at your door. Maybe stretching all the way down the street.”

Sean glanced at her, fire dancing between them. “Only ones I want for my mate, love.”

“So the rest of them must just be after your fine ass.”

“No woman’s ever bought me underwear for my ass, that’s for certain. But what can I do? Lupines like to play. You throw a stick, they race after it. Cats wouldn’t dream of doing that.”

Andrea drew her finger across her lip, wetting it. “But you give cats a little ... nip and they go insane.”

Sean stared at her a moment longer before traffic on the curving road dragged his attention back to it. He moved in the seat, as though something in his pants had tightened. “And now, it’s the tease.”

“I don’t have much else to do. Teasing you fills the time.”

Another sideways glance, the sparkle in his eyes stoking the fire high. “Would you be willing to fill it with something else?”

“Not right now,” Andrea said. “You’re driving, and we’re on a mission.”

“Mmm, I’m thinking some Shifters are going to be damn sorry they’re pulling me away from the mating frenzy.”

“Maybe it’s why Liam wanted you to do this instead of him.”

“Could be. If they take too much time messing with me, I might tear them up for interrupting us.”

“Don’t get too carried away. Your Collar will go off, and they’ll just laugh at you.”

“Don’t worry about that, love. I’ll time it just right.”

Andrea wasn’t certain what he meant by that, and by the way he stopped talking, he didn’t want her to ask. Andrea shrugged to herself and looked out the window as they turned and wound northward through town.

Bronco’s, the bar where she’d found Glory yesterday, sat back from the road in a littered parking lot. Behind it, an old wooden fence separated the property from a creek, and beyond that lay suburban houses. To either side of the bar were one-story shops. A vacuum repair store occupied one of the buildings; the other held an antique store and a tobacconist. All closed for the day, Sunday.

The bar was also closed, but a few vehicles were parked around it. From the age of the cars and trucks plus the fact that they’d been kept well, Andrea could tell that they belonged to Shifters.

Sean smiled in anticipation. “Let’s see what they’re up to in there, shall we, love?” The sun gleamed off the sword on his back, and Sean’s smile added to the deadly picture he made. No wonder Liam had sent him as liaison.

The door to the bar was locked. No grate had been pulled across the door, and it was fastened with a simple dead bolt. Sean wrapped his fingers around the door handle, let his hand become his powerful lion’s paw, and yanked. The lock splintered, and the door opened.

“Nice trick,” Andrea said. “Wish I was a big, bad Feline.”

“I’ll teach you someday, if you’re good.”

“Mmm, I’ll never learn it, then.”

Sean’s answering grin stoked the heat already burning in her, and then she fell in behind him as he strode inside.

“Hey, we’re closed,” someone yelled.

Sean didn’t stop. The bar was thick with cigarette smoke, which meant humans. Shifters didn’t smoke. A knot of people sat around a table in the back, and a human worked behind the bar, likely prepping to open the place later that afternoon. The bartender had been the one who’d yelled.

From the scent beneath the gagging smoke, three of the men at the table were human. They wore jeans and biker vests, their guns in shoulder or belt holsters evident. But it wasn’t just their scent that betrayed them as the ones who’d been responsible for all the shootings. One human rose as Sean came in and pointed a black pistol at him.

Sean drew his sword, the silver glittering, the blade ringing as it swept out of its sheath. The human laughed, but one of the Shifters knocked the gun from his hand with the swipe of a claw.

“He’s a Guardian,” the Shifter snarled.

The human opened his mouth to jeer, looked at the Shifter faces gone hard and cold, and sat back down. He retrieved his pistol from where it had landed on the other side of the table and shoved it into a shoulder holster.

Sean brought the sword around and rested the point of it on the table, the hilt rising like a cross. He scanned the faces that turned to him, Sean quiet and unafraid, the Shifters tense and worried. Sean’s gaze stopped as he picked out a Shifter to address, and that Shifter shrank back in his chair, looking like he wanted to wet himself.

“So tell me, Ben O’Callaghan, of me own clan,” Sean said to him. “What exactly have you been up to?”