Lion Eyes

“Any time you’re ready, Seamus.”

  Nadine’s quiet voice came from above. Bree abruptly broke the kiss, her eyes wide, face flushed, her breathing rapid.

  Nadine peered over the banisters at them, the shotgun held carefully so the barrel pointed upward.

  Seamus turned his back and walked away, moving on down the stairs. If he stayed, if he looked at Bree one second longer, he’d never go, and he knew it.

  ***

  Bree had forgotten how to breathe, talk, maybe even stand. She held herself up against the wall, trying to find her balance, while her entire body rejoiced at the kiss.

  Seamus had held her like a lover, as though they’d been together for years instead of meeting for the first time last night under dire circumstances. His kiss had been hot, strong, thorough, hinting at what fever could be had from a night in bed with him.

  Above him, her mother was watching in disapproval. Bree couldn’t raise her head to look up at Nadine, but the weight of the disapproval was like a blanket dropping on her head.

  Worse still was the cold slap of Seamus walking away. He was running from her into danger—no way could he evade that bunch of scary-looking Shifters waiting for him outside.

  Bree shoved herself away from the wall and ran on shaking legs after him.

  From the kitchen, Seamus yelled, “Nadine ... now!”

  Her mother must have gotten herself back in position, because the shotgun went off twice—bang! bang! Next came a few moments of silence while Nadine reloaded, then the gun went off again.

  The Shifters outside were shouting. Bree hit the kitchen in time to see Seamus slip out the back door. Bree ran to the door and sheltered herself behind it while she looked out into the dawn.

  Seamus had already vanished. One smudge of dirt on the wooden steps showed he’d passed, but where he’d gone, Bree couldn’t see.

  Her heart wrenched, her extremities going numb. When they’d gotten word about Remy, she’d felt a bit like this—the entire world changing while she stood there, unable to stop it. She’d lost Remy, and she was losing Seamus, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  A roar like that of a primeval beast rolled across the field beyond the house. It caught Bree, vibrated the windows, shook the porch. Another roar answered it, this one different, quicker, touched with rage.

  A lion came bounding out of the field. It had a black mane, a lithe muscular frame, giant paws, and tawny eyes. Lion eyes. Seamus’s eyes.

  Right behind it was the biggest Bengal tiger Bree had ever seen in her life. Not that she’d seen many, but she’d stood by their enclosures in zoos. Those tigers had been big and intimidating enough—this tiger was gigantic.

  And furious. His ears were flat on his head, his eyes a wild gold. Within two bounds, it was on the lion—Seamus—who turned and fought for his life.

  Another lion raced around the house. This one too had a black mane, but it was larger, older, with massive confidence in his eyes. He ran right between the tiger and Seamus, planting his feet and barking a roar that pounded in Bree’s ears. Seamus roared an answer, but the tiger went deathly silent.

  The tiger, his eyes still sparking anger, retreated a few steps, turned in a slow circle, and stood poised, ready to spring. The tiger could have wiped out both lions with one sweep of his big paws, but now he simply waited, watching. Almost like he was being polite.

  The older lion, on the other hand, was advancing on Seamus, mouth curling with his snarls, the intent in his eyes unmistakable.

  Give up, or we kill you.

  “No!” Bree shouted.

  She was out of the house, down the steps, and running to them before she realized what she was doing. She stopped in front of Seamus and faced the other lion, whose growls increased.

  “No,” Bree repeated, trying to catch her breath. She was scared shitless—the lion Shifter was gigantic, mean-looking, and could kill her without breaking a sweat. Not only that, but the tiger could come behind him and stamp out whatever bits of her were left.

  Seamus was snarling, trying to push her aside with his body, but Bree stayed put.

  “You leave him alone,” she yelled at the older lion. “Understand me? You go away, and leave him alone.” Bree took the final step to the second lion and smacked him hard across the nose.

  Chapter Six

  What the holy hell was she doing?

  The words flitted through a corner of Seamus’s brain, along with a surge of frustrated rage. A stronger anger and incredulity washed after that, emotions flying so fast the confusion made him blink.

  Then his mind cleared, leaving only one sharp, focused idea: Protect.

  Seamus had already shoved himself between Bree and Dylan, his ears back, snarls unceasing. He’d go for Dylan the moment Dylan put a paw toward Bree, didn’t matter that Dylan was an alpha and one of the most dominant Shifters Seamus had ever encountered.

  This was different. This was a mate thing.

  Seamus saw that acknowledgment in Dylan’s eyes behind the absolute fury. Dylan stood his ground, neither continuing the attack nor backing off.

  Bree, damn her, was trying to push herself in front of Seamus again. “He isn’t hurting you,” she yelled at Dylan. “Or me. Or anyone. What the hell do you want from him?”

  Seamus turned his growls on her. Bree needed to stay behind him, let him defend her. Dylan had conceded the mate idea, with a flash of surprise, but that didn’t mean he might not swat Bree to the ground to make her shut up.

  Bree only drew another breath to continue berating Dylan. At that moment, the tiger shifted smoothly into a huge man with mottled red-orange and black hair and golden eyes. He wrapped giant arms around Bree, lifted her from her feet, and carried her aside, Bree flailing and protesting all the way.

  The Lupine, the Guardian, the bear, and the tattooed guy had come around the house, still in their humans forms.

  “Stand down,” the Guardian growled at Seamus, his accent as Irish as Dylan’s. “We’re trying to help you, man.”

  The Lupine, in a muscle shirt and jeans, folded his arms. “Yeah, we can do this the hard way, or we can do this the hard way.” He broke off and chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to say that.”

  “And all of you can back off!” Bree shouted at them.

  She’d stopped fighting—the tiger held her firmly—but she wasn’t about to be quiet. Seamus both admired that and found it worrying.

  Nadine burst out of the back door, her shotgun ready. “This might not kill Shifters,” she said in a firm voice. “But I’ve seen the damage it can cause. Anyone want to spend the day getting pellets picked out of them?”

  “Mom, go back inside!” Bree cried in alarm.

  Nadine cocked the gun, pointing it at the tiger. “And I really don’t like naked men trampling my garden. Let my daughter go.”

  The tiger-man looked at Dylan then at Nadine. Finally, he focused his all-tiger stare on Seamus. Dylan snarled at him, clearly telling the Bengal to keep hold of Bree.

  The tiger waited a few more heartbeats, then he slowly released Bree, setting her on her feet. He turned his back on them all, flowed into his tiger form, and walked away, huffing under his breath.

  Seamus had never seen a Shifter so easily change shape before. Seamus had struggled with the shift mightily as a cub, finding it painful until he grew into it. Even now the shift was tough for him. Kendrick was much better at it, able to change nearly as instantaneously as this Bengal. Maybe it was a tiger thing.

  Nadine wasn’t finished. “Now, the rest of you, get back into whatever vehicles brought you here and go. I won’t ask you again.”

  The Guardian, sunlight catching on his sword’s hilt, took a few cautious steps toward her. “I would, lass, but that big lion is my dad, and he’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t finish this. We just want to take this Shifter back home with us. He won’t be hurt. He’s one of us.”

  Bree rounded on the Guardian, her fists clenched. “How can you say he w
on’t be hurt? You’ll put a Collar on him and keep him in Shiftertown. Why would you want to do that? He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “Oh,” the Lupine said with a low growl. “I like her.”

  The bear rumbled next to him. “Me too.”

  The Guardian didn’t join their mirth. His eyes were stern as he regarded Bree. “Last night a feral Shifter ripped apart two human hunters. We got word that more hunters were chasing a Shifter they saw at the scene—all evidence we found points to that Shifter being him.” He jerked a thumb at Seamus. “We need to contain this before the human police come after him.”

  Bree’s mouth dropped open, and Nadine blinked.

  Bree recovered. “He didn’t kill anyone,” she said hotly. “Seamus was with us all last night. He had coffee, slept on the couch. The hunters were chasing Seamus, not the other way around.”

  “Seamus is his name, is it?” the Guardian asked. “Seamus McGuire?”

  Bree looked at him blankly—Seamus had never told her his family name. That the Guardian knew it didn’t surprise Seamus all that much. Guardians had a secret database that listed all Shifters—names, locations, details—accessible only by Guardians.

  The Lupine growled at Seamus. “That’s you, right, Feline?”

  “What evidence?” Bree interrupted. “It had better be good.”

  The Guardian pulled a small object from his pocket. “Seamus at one point had his hand on this. We found it not far from where a truck had been parked. It belongs to you.”

  Bree stared in surprise. “That’s my cell phone.”

  He didn’t give it to her. “Indeed, it is. Witnesses said a Shifter got himself into your truck, the phone flew out, and the truck stormed away, chased by another full of humans. The phone has Seamus’s scent and a bit of his blood on it, not to mention his fingerprints, and the last call was listed as coming from your mum. Not hard after that to trace you back here.” He showed a hint of smile. “Not for a Guardian, anyway.”

  Dylan could have shifted back to human and joined the discussion, but he stayed animal. Smart—it gave him the best chance to take down Seamus if Seamus tried to run. The tiger remained in his beast form as well, but he was walking the boundary, not listening to the conversation.

  Seamus knew that the minute he shifted to human, they’d take him. He couldn’t fight them all, even if he remained in big cat form, but they seemed to think he was at bay for now.

  His advantage—they had Collars, and Seamus did not.

  Seamus didn’t wait to calculate trajectory, speed, whatever. If he did, Dylan would sense it, and be all over him before he could take one step.

  So he simply ran. One moment he was in a defensive posture against Dylan, claws dug into the dirt, the next, he was running.

  His only thought was to lead them far away. They’d chase Seamus, leave Bree alone. Bree wasn’t stupid—she’d take her mother to safety as soon as the Shifters came after him.

  Texas weeds and dirt tore loose under his feet, billowing up a concealing cloud. Seamus increased his speed, making for the open fields that led to rolling hill country ...

  ... and found a giant Bengal tiger pinning him down.

  Damn, the tiger was strong and fecking fast. Tiger paws crushed Seamus’s back, and a mouth with massive teeth closed around his neck. Nothing broke the skin, but he had Seamus flat. Seamus wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Dylan came jogging up, in his human form now. He was strong-bodied, with dark hair going gray at the temples, and blue eyes that had observed much for many years.

  “Shift,” Dylan ordered.

  His dominance was so complete that Seamus started to obey before he stopped himself. The Tiger still had his paws firmly on Seamus’s back, the pressure of which would crush his human form.

  “Tiger, ease off,” Dylan said. “Seamus, I need you able to talk to me.”

  Seamus didn’t give a damn. He didn’t want to talk, he wanted to get the hell away from here.

  What sold him was the fact that the bear had caught hold of Bree. He held her loosely, not hurting her, but his stance told Seamus that he knew how to contain people, no matter what they tried.

  Behind them, the big Lupine had started for Nadine, his hands up, as though in surrender. While he pretended to come at her peacefully, Tatt Man slid silently behind Nadine and had the shotgun out of her arms before she understood what was happening. Felines could be damn stealthy.

  Tatt-Man uncocked the shotgun, and the Lupine blew out a breath. “Thanks, Spike.”

  Nadine turned on Spike, lunging for the gun, but the Lupine caught and held her in an easy grip. “Not so fast, Mom. Let’s go inside, and you can make us coffee.”

  “Fuck you!” Nadine stated.

  The Lupine looked amused. “You know, you remind me of my aunt.”

  The bear pulled his attention back from them. “I’m Ronan,” he said to Bree. “The full-of-himself Lupine is Broderick, then we have Spike with the tattoos, Sean with the sword, and ... Tiger. He’s just called Tiger. Dylan’s the other lion who likes to tell people what to do.”

  Bree folded her arms, not caring. “Nice to meet you, Ronan. Now, get lost.”

  “We can’t do that, lass,” Sean said. “We really are here to help Seamus. If he didn’t do the murders, fine and good. If he did—we have to figure out why and what to do before the human police get here and take him.”

  Bree hesitated. Seamus felt the indecision pouring off her—the need to believe Seamus had nothing to do with it warring with her fears that maybe he had.

  Seamus would love to reassure her, but he still couldn’t remember what had happened. Easy enough to recall a moment of wild, hot triumph, the taste of blood, the mad snarling, then the need to run and the pain of the shots. Hitting the parking lot of the roadhouse, searching for escape, and finding Bree waiting ...

  Seamus shifted, his muscles stretching and aching as he moved again to human form. “All right,” he said as he straightened to his full height, his voice still holding the growl of his lion. “Let’s go inside, and talk. But no matter what I did, leave Bree and Nadine out of it. They had nothing to do with anything.”

  Dylan watched him a moment, then gave him a nod. “Understood. Ronan, Spike, Broderick, cover the outside. Nadine ...” He pinned Nadine with an alpha stare, which apparently did not impress her. “May we enter your house?”

  ***

  Bree watched her mother weigh the pros and cons of letting the Shifters talk versus trying to grab the shotgun back from Spike and opening fire. Nadine hated obeying orders, especially from men. Back in her younger days, Nadine hadn’t had to fight for her rights as a woman—she’d simply taken them, to hell with anyone who got in her way.

  Finally, Nadine shrugged and headed into the house. She wanted to know what was going on as much as Bree did.

  Bree went straight to Seamus. He’d shifted from lion to human before her eyes and now stood tall in the dust and weeds beyond their small yard without a stitch on. He’d been hot enough in only his jeans, but now ...

  The bandages had ripped away when he’d shifted—pieces lay scattered across the patch of lawn behind the house. The bruises on his ribs had faded, the holes where the bullets had been, now small, red marks.

  Seamus betrayed no embarrassment being unclothed in front of Bree or the others. From what Bree had learned, Shifters were more animal in their emotions than human—shifting was natural, nothing to be ashamed of.

  Bree saw nothing at all to shame him. Seamus’s thighs were tight under flat, hard abs, and what hung between those thighs made her break into a sweat. Shifters were bigger than human men, in all ways. Seriously.

  Bree realized she was staring and raised her gaze from his nether regions, but Seamus had seen. From the look on his face, he didn’t mind.

  Behind his mild satisfaction that she liked looking at him, Bree read need in his eyes, and despair, and deep fear. Seamus was afraid he truly had killed the hunters, Bree saw, and
the idea haunted him.

  “I don’t remember,” he said fiercely. He looked directly at Bree, no one else. “I don’t remember anything. Only fighting something, running hard and fast, the shots, the roadhouse, and then you.”

  Bree stepped closer to him, the ground cold and sharp under her bare feet, and closed her hands around his forearms. “I won’t let them take you away.” She looked straight up into his face, willing him to believe her. “I won’t let them lock you up for something you didn’t do.”

  Seamus’s golden eyes glittered in the morning light. “I don’t know if I didn’t do it.”

  “Come inside,” Bree said softly. “We’ll find out.”

  Seamus kept his gaze on her, in spite of the other Shifters drifting to circle them—Dylan wasn’t about to let him get away again. Only he and Bree might be standing there in the Texas dawn, a cold breeze plucking at them, while the rest of the Shifters, the house, the sign in the field promising a new development coming soon—the sign had been there for five years, their neighbors had told them—the entire world, floated away.

  Bree gave Seamus’s arms a squeeze. His skin was hot, smooth over muscle, satin over steel. Seamus stood impossibly still while his eyes betrayed that, inside, he was one mass of pain.

  Bree remembered when he’d first jumped into her truck, the wildness in his eyes, the anger, the fear.

  Are you feral? she’d asked him.

  Maybe, he’d answered distractedly. Not yet ...

  But he feared he was becoming so. A feral Shifter might not remember that he’d killed two men and fled, coming to himself long enough to force a woman in a truck to help him get away.

  “I won’t let you,” Bree told him, her voice firm. “I won’t let you be feral. Understand me?”

  Seamus only watched her, whatever thoughts warring in his mind making his eyes fill with fear, his skin bead with sweat.

  He abruptly closed his hands over her arms in return, his large fingers folding around her. “I need ...”

  Whatever he needed, he couldn’t express with speech. His hands bit down, the grip tight, and mercilessly strong.

  But not to hurt her—Seamus was trying to hold on to something that wasn’t whirling, rushing, and tumbling over him. Bree met his gaze, wanting to tell him she believed in him, was there for him, but not finding the right words.