Page 18 of Primal Bonds


  The compromise Kim forced on them, that neither of them liked, was that Andrea went to work but Sean went with her. Andrea refused to wait on Sean’s table all night but smiled sweetly at the other customers.

  Look at her. Sean watched Andrea over the beer Annie had brought him. Swaying her hips in those tight pants, and her top looking like it’s painted on. The shirt bared her shoulders, making even the Collar around her throat sexy. The humans she waited on liked what they saw, if the drool dripping down the sides of their mouths was any indication. If any of them touched her, they’d lose fingers.

  Sean’s view of Andrea was cut off as someone stopped in front of his booth. He looked up to find Dylan gazing steadily back at him.

  “Dad,” Sean said as Dylan dropped into the seat opposite. Sean reached for Dylan’s hand, squeezed it. “You all right? Where are you staying?”

  “At a friend’s.” Dylan didn’t respond to Sean’s touch, and Sean withdrew, troubled.

  “I’m hoping you don’t mean a female friend. I don’t need Glory exploding while I’m living in her house. I’m not getting much sleep as it is.”

  Dylan looked surprised. “Glory told me to go. Why would she care?”

  “She didn’t mean for you to be running to the next woman on your list. You know that.”

  Dylan gave him a tight smile. “You flatter me if you think I have a list.” He signaled to Andrea, who nodded and turned to the bartender. “Kim is kindly letting me stay in her house, if you must know.”

  Kim’s family had left her a big house north of Lake Austin near Mount Bonnell, and though Kim now spent all her time in Shiftertown, she still owned the house, which was large and posh.

  “Cushy crash space,” Sean said. “With cable. Now I envy you. Kim’s a sweetheart.”

  “I had to promise not to get cat hair on the sofa,” Dylan said.

  “That’s our Kim. What do her neighbors think?”

  “Her neighbors don’t know I’m there.”

  They wouldn’t, not if he didn’t want them to. Dylan could be the master of stealth.

  Andrea floated over with a bottle of Guinness. She smiled at Dylan as she set down the bottle, her dark hair dancing across her cheeks. Sean wanted to pull her down, kiss her red lips, wrap his arms around her, and get down to serious business.

  Andrea didn’t even look at Sean. “That beer’s on me,” she said to Dylan. “Nice to see you again.” She deliberately ignored Sean as she sashayed away.

  “Trouble in paradise?” Dylan asked with a glint of humor.

  Sean growled. “Goddess, Dad, she is the most bloody stubborn, smart-assed, frustrating female I’ve ever met. Did I mention stubborn?”

  Dylan’s smile took on a touch of sadness. “She’s like your mother. Niamh had that same trick of looking at me as though she didn’t give a damn about anything I said until I apologized—for whatever it was I’d done to piss her off that time. If I didn’t know what I’d done, that just made things worse.”

  “Aye, I remember. And, aye, I’m thinking Andrea’s the same way.”

  Across the room, Ellison started up the jukebox with a rocking country tune. Ellison liked all music, as long as it was country and the singer was from Texas.

  Dylan leaned across the table to Sean. “Where did you put the sword?”

  “Liam’s office, like always. Why?”

  “Liam’s in there?”

  Sean glanced around. The office door was closed, and Liam hadn’t emerged. “He is.”

  “If he’s not back there to watch it, I don’t want it out of your sight.”

  “Why, Dad? What’s up?”

  “They had plans to steal it,” Dylan said around blare of the music. “Callum and his Feline faction. That’s interesting, don’t you think?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Sean stared. “Why the hell should they want the Sword of the Guardian? It’s not like anyone can just pick it up and use it.”

  Dylan shrugged as he lifted his beer. “Who knows? To intimidate you, our clan ... this entire Shiftertown, maybe. If Shifters think their souls are in peril because you lost the sword, will they be trusting you?”

  “Are they crazy?”

  Sean recalled the night he’d been chosen as Guardian, when he’d been barely past cub age. He remembered shivering on a windswept Irish promontory under January moonlight, while the dead body of the previous Guardian lay on the ground, the naked sword across his chest. Sean remembered his dismay as white-hot Goddess magic turned his own blood to fire, his absolute knowledge that he would be the one to lift the sword and drive it into the former Guardian’s heart. He’d been terrified that night, Dylan and Niamh so proud.

  “Most Shifters know that the Guardian has to be chosen,” Dylan was saying. “But if the Guardian isn’t strong enough to protect the sword, how quickly will they choose a new Guardian, or kill the old one?”

  “Bloody hell, Dad. I’m flattered that Callum and his friends thought I had so much power. But the sword is a sacred relic. They’d have messed with that?”

  “I’m thinking they would have.”

  Sean knew full well that some Shifters now believed they could get to the Summerland without the Guardian to turn the body to dust and release the soul. The sword had been forged for the purpose of keeping Fae from trapping or torturing Shifter souls, but the Fae were no longer around, and having the soul trapped was not a likely danger.

  Then again, Sean also knew that superstition died hard. Shifters might say they didn’t believe they still needed a magic sword, but Guardians had been around for centuries. Beliefs got lodged deep inside and were not easily pried out.

  “Would it scare you, Dad?” he asked out of curiosity. “If the Guardian wasn’t around when your time came?”

  Dylan thought as he took another drink. “It’s something we grow up with, the cycle of life: birth, mating, cubs, then the Guardian’s sword at the end. It’s a relief, knowing that you won’t be ending alone, because the Guardian will be there to help you to the Summerland. There’s no evidence we need a Guardian anymore, but why take the chance?”

  Sean nodded. “I think that too. I’m betting every Shifter in this bar does.”

  “So you see how powerful a Sword of the Guardian would be in the wrong hands? Keep yours safe.”

  Sean needed to see the sword now, to know that it still leaned against the wall in Liam’s office with his big brother keeping an eye on it. He glanced toward the office door, but his gaze was arrested halfway there.

  Andrea had moved in front of the jukebox, and now she started to dance. A hip swinging, undulating, sexy, gyrating dance. The gaze of every unmated male—Shifter and human alike—swiveled and fixed on her. Ellison whooped and started swaying behind her, beer held high, his body nearly touching hers.

  A growl tore from Sean’s throat. Dylan rescued Sean’s beer as Sean sprang from the booth and hurtled across the room to Ellison. Sean’s fingers turned to claws as he latched onto Ellison’s shoulder and jerked him away from Andrea.

  Ellison’s Lupine eyes flashed gray white. “Hold on there now, my old friend. We were just dancing.”

  “Stay away from her.” Sean’s voice was grating, throat clogged with rage.

  The song wailed to an end, and the jukebox clicked off. Silence descended on the room as the two males faced each other. Andrea breathed hard from the dance, her breasts rising most distractingly under her low-cut shirt.

  Ellison saw his sideways glance at her and laughed. “Woo, Sean.” He clapped Sean on the shoulder. “You’re walking on a knife edge, my man. Better get this thing blessed, or you’ll be challenging every male who even looks at her.”

  Sean knew he should calm himself, laugh it off, but instincts were a bitch. He stepped to Ellison, everything in him wanting to gut the Lupine for coming near Andrea.

  Ellison lifted his hands, beer still in one. “Steady, big guy. I’m leaving.” He backed slowly out of range, making sure not to turn his back on Sean.
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  When Sean didn’t pursue him, the bar relaxed and conversation and laughter started up again. A blood-drenched conflict had been avoided, and Shifters could go back to drinking and enjoying the night.

  Andrea was glaring at Sean, hands on hips. “I was dancing, Sean. Get over yourself.” Before Sean could reach for her or say a word, she slammed away from him and marched back to the bar.

  After the bar closed, Andrea stashed her apron in the office and left through the back door, only to find Sean waiting for her. The sword’s hilt rose above his shoulder, glittering in the moonlight.

  The night was brisk though not as cold as previous nights, spring at last touching the air. The sky had cleared, and the moon was a round disk of white.

  Andrea said a silent prayer to the moon goddess and pretended to ignore Sean as he fell into step beside her. He was still angry at her for dancing with Ellison, she felt that, and she was still angry at him for trying to keep her home tonight. The Ellison thing had been partly her fault—she’d been dancing to show Sean what he was missing by being so high-handed.

  They reached Shiftertown without either of them saying a word. Though it was late, Shifters lingered on porches, enjoying the brisk night and the bright moonlight. “Now then, Sean,” they called out, in a friendly fashion. “Andrea.”

  Sean raised his hand in greeting, and Andrea waved too, secretly pleased that they greeted her by name. The Shifters here were gradually accepting her, and the thought warmed her. She wasn’t fool enough to think they’d welcome her half Faeness with open arms without Sean, but even so, she liked the feeling of belonging.

  Glory wasn’t home, the house dark and silent. Dylan hadn’t asked Andrea about Glory tonight, and he’d departed right after Sean had interrupted Andrea’s dance. Andrea had sensed Dylan’s sorrow when she’d brought him the beer, but she doubted he’d make the first overture to Glory. It was too bad. They were two lonely people who needed each other. No, correction, two lonely, stubborn people.

  Speaking of stubborn, Sean followed Andrea upstairs and into her bedroom. Andrea sat down on the bed, pulled off her shoes, and stretched her aching feet as Sean unbuckled the sword and laid it across the dresser.

  Andrea studied the moonlight on the sword as she rotated her ankles. “Can anyone wield the sword but a Guardian?”

  Sean gave her a quick, questioning look. “Legend says no.” He skimmed his fingers over the sword, then came to sit on the bed next to her. Right next to her. The mattress dipped with his weight, and as annoyed as Andrea was at him, she realized she’d come to like the sensation.

  “Does that mean you’re not sure?”

  He shrugged, his shoulder brushing hers. “It means legend says no. The Guardian must be descended from the original Guardian of the clan, and he is chosen in a spiritual ritual.”

  “So I hear. What I mean is, if I took the sword and stuck it through a dead Shifter’s heart, would he turn to dust?”

  “Actually, I have no idea, love.”

  Love. It was difficult to stay angry at him—not that he was right—when he called her love in that warm voice. “As I understand, the original sword was made by a Fae, right?”

  Sean nodded, looking curious at her questions. “Created by a Shifter smith and a Fae woman who wove her magic through it. A Fae bastard had wanted a sword made so he could trap and torture Shifter souls with it, but the Fae woman, his sister, turned the tables on him and made it so the sword released the souls instead. That’s the story, anyway.”

  “And she made it so the sword can’t hurt Shifters, right?”

  “I didn’t say that. If I stick its sharp point into a live Shifter’s body, he’d be a bit pissed off at me. But I’d only stick it in someone if he was dying already or into a crazed feral who needed to go down.”

  “You would,” Andrea said. “But what if someone else got hold of it?”

  Sean’s gaze went sharp. “Has my dad been talking to you?”

  “Dylan? No. Why?”

  “Because he told me tonight that Callum had planned to grab the sword. He’d wanted to use the fact that he had it to intimidate other Shifters into following him. It could work, I think.”

  Damn Callum anyway. Was this what the Fae warrior had been talking about? The danger if she didn’t bring him the sword? Why would a Fae care if Shifters were angry at their Guardian? It made no sense to her.

  “Doesn’t Callum’s Shiftertown have its own Guardian?” Andrea said. “Why not take his sword?”

  “Mine is the original sword made by Niall O’Connell and his Fae mate. The others are later copies. Much more symbolic if Callum stole this one. Besides, his Shiftertown’s Guardian is a bear, and I’m not thinking even Callum would risk pissing off the Ursines. But Liam is new at being leader, and Shifters like to test new leaders. Callum’s clan’s protecting him now, but they know as well as Callum does that if he tries anything else, we’ll take him down, and that will be the end of him.”

  Andrea drew her feet to the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. Sean spoke with firm finality, no regrets about the violent justice he’d mete out. But Shifters walked a tightrope now that they lived in Shiftertowns—if they turned against each other, it would be a disaster.

  “I think Callum just got bored,” she said. “In Colorado, we were still pretty close to basic survival, no thoughts of conspiracies and that kind of thing. Survival, mating, and raising cubs—that was it.”

  Sean looked at her sitting next to him, all folded in on herself, her eyes gray like a misty evening. What male wouldn’t want Andrea under him in the night, those beautiful eyes darkening with desire?

  “I think Callum’s not wrong that we’ve gotten a little comfortable,” Sean said. “We have food and shelter, time to pray and love and play. Families are staying together and growing larger. So of course we have to start fighting each other for power.”

  Andrea gave him a wry look. “When you force different species to coexist on the same patch, there’s bound to be friction. Look at your Dad and Glory.”

  “I’m not wanting to at the moment, thank you very much. A better example is you and me.”

  “Cross-species mating?” Andrea said with a little smile. “Can it possibly work? We could go on an afternoon talk show.”

  “I want it to work.” Sean turned the full force of his gaze on her. “Because when I first saw you, love, I started to believe in forever.”

  Andrea gazed back at him with gray eyes so filled with loneliness that Sean’s heart squeezed hard. He wanted to make all her hurts go away, and damn it, he would.

  “You thought that across a crowded bus station?” she asked in a light voice.

  Sean leaned closer, breathing her heat. “You said you didn’t want a mating without the bond. Well, that bond is here, in me. I’m feeling it—I’m not feeling anything else these days but that. It’s yours for the taking, love.”

  Andrea drew her legs even closer to her chest, curling into a ball like a frightened cub. “Sean, I don’t know who I am. How can I decide whether to accept a mate-claim when I don’t even understand what I’m supposed to be?”

  “You’re supposed to be my mate.”

  She shook her head. “No, I mean, what am I? I’ve got a Shifter mother, Fae father. I know what I am as a Shifter. Nothing—too far down in my pack to be anything but a cub producer.”

  His eyes flashed. “Goddess, what asshole told you that?”

  “Who do you think? The brilliant leader of my Shiftertown and his son. Not to mention everyone in my stepfather’s pack. I grew up being told that that was all I’d ever be good for, over and over again—that is if anyone wanted my tainted Fae blood in their cubs.”

  “I’m hoping you didn’t believe all that, Andy-love.”

  “When I grew older, it started to piss me off. But there, in that Shiftertown, they weren’t going to let me be anything else.”

  She looked so sad that she broke his heart. “Oh, love.” Sean scooped Andrea onto h
is lap and closed his arms around her. Earlier tonight when Andrea had given him her scathing glare, so angry at his protectiveness, Sean had told himself that he understood. It wasn’t that Andrea minded being protected—she didn’t want to need to be protected. Sean snarling at every male within range only reminded her of her situation, over which she had little control. Didn’t mean Sean would stop snarling at them; it just meant he understood.

  “But you’re here with me now, and you can do whatever you want—well, whatever humans will let us do, but we’ll not be under their thumbs forever. What I want is you, the woman for me. My whole life has become wrapped around you. And I’m liking it that way.”

  Andrea liked it too, but the revelations she’d had were complicating things. “My whole life has become ... I don’t know. Insane. Everything I knew and thought I understood is gone.”

  “From what you just told me, that’s a good thing, love.”

  Sean’s gaze held anger, difficult to meet even if the anger wasn’t directed at her. You are the child of a warrior, Fionn had told her. A highborn lady in your own right. Perhaps that part was true.

  “That’s not the point,” she said. Sean’s sandpaper chin was at kissing level, and Andrea barely resisted licking it. “When you’re a child and a certain way of life is all you know, it’s truth to you. It’s your world; there is nothing else. Even when I wasn’t happy, I knew what to expect every day. Now, I have no clue what to expect. Humans shoot at us, the Feline next door makes me care about him, a Fae pops out of my dreams and claims to be my father, and my aunt likes to wear black-leather bodysuits.”