Primal Bonds

  Oh, gods, she was jealous. Proprietary and jealous, like a she-wolf in heat.

  “Hey, Sean,” Andrea couldn’t stop herself from saying. “Thanks for walking me home last night.”

  Sean glanced up at her expressionlessly. “Just doing my job.”

  “Seanie likes his job,” Caitlin sang. “He’s a sweetheart. So protective.”

  Sean returned his attention to his motorcycle, not bothering to answer.

  “Well, well,” another female voice drawled. “If it isn’t Sean Morrissey.”

  A woman stopped on the sidewalk in front of Sean’s house and folded her arms. She was a bear, tall like Glory but more muscular, though her muscles didn’t detract from her beauty. She was strong but thoroughly feminine.

  “Rebecca,” Sean greeted her, voice neutral. “How are you this fine morning?”

  “Better now that I’ve taken in the sights.”

  Andrea stifled another growl. These females were perfectly in their rights to flirt with Sean, because according to Shifter rules, Sean would not be off-limits until he and Andrea had the official mate blessings. Until then, Sean was fair game.

  In the unfair world of Shifters, however, the mate-claim put Andrea off the market, females being scarce and jealously guarded. No other male would dare try to move on Andrea until she rejected Sean’s claim, unless that male wanted to challenge Sean for her. And Andrea had the feeling that no sane male would challenge Sean. The aura of raw power he walked in would make them run away in terror before they even got close.

  “Go on with you now,” Sean was saying to Rebecca. “You must have better things to do than watch a man fix a bloody stubborn bike.”

  Rebecca shook her head, still smiling. “Not really.”

  “Me either,” Caitlin called from the other porch. “I could watch you all day, Seanie. In fact, why don’t you bring that bike over here, and I’ll make us some lemonade?”

  “Or you could come to my house,” Rebecca said. “I’d give you Guinness.”

  Rebecca was a little older, probably more experienced than Caitlin, who wasn’t much beyond cub years. Neither of them were looking for mates, Andrea could tell. Just mating.

  “What we really want is to see all you’ve got, Sean,” Andrea called. She barely stopped herself from snarling, her fingers wanting to turn to claws. “We say we’ll give you lemonade or Guinness, but it’s only to get you out of those sweet jeans.”

  Sean glanced up, the skin around his eyes tightening. “Is that so?”

  “That is so. Right, ladies?”

  Rebecca laughed. “You are so right. Is it boxers under there? Or a thong?”

  Sean’s brows rose. “So, you’re taking bets on my underwear now?”

  “Come on, show us what you’ve got, Seanie,” Caitlin said.

  “Yes, come on, Sean,” Andrea said, forcing herself to remain relaxed. “Settle the bet. I say briefs.”

  “You don’t know Seanie then,” Caitlin almost crowed. “It’s boxers. Black satin.”

  Rebecca touched her lower lip. “I’m holding out for a thong.”

  Sean stood up, socket wrench in hand, his gaze locked on Andrea’s. “You’re serious.”

  Andrea gave him a slow smile. “You betcha. Who’s right, Seanie?”

  Sean fixed his unreadable blue gaze on her for a long moment. His eyes sucked her in, made her want to leap off the porch and fall at his feet, begging him to be gentle—but not too gentle. She’d be down there kissing his boots in a second. Pathetic.

  Andrea met his gaze with a steady one of her own, challenging, daring.

  A smile of pure sin spread across Sean’s face. “If I settle the bet, will you ladies let me get on with some work?”

  “Depends on the answer,” Andrea said. “Go on, Sean. Make our day.”

  Sean kept up the wicked smile a few seconds longer. Then he shrugged, dropped his wrench, unbuckled his belt, and slid his jeans down his backside.

  He wore no underwear at all.

  Caitlin and Rebecca screamed in delight. Andrea remained silent, but her heart pounded so hard she heard a rushing sound in her ears.

  Sunshine touched a backside that was slightly paler than the rest of Sean but still tanned. He must expose his entire body from time to time, probably right after he shifted. Sweet thought. Andrea wanted to leap down and bite that firm, bare ass, nip it, taste it.

  The show lasted only a few seconds before Sean pulled up his jeans again. “You all lose,” he said as he buckled his belt. “Satisfied?”

  Rebecca ran her tongue over her lips. “Oh, I might be satisfied for the rest of the week.” She turned away and walked on, her low laughter drifting behind her.

  Caitlin lingered awhile, all but rubbing herself on the porch railings as she cooed at him, but Sean switched his entire focus to the bike and paid no attention. Playtime over. Caitlin evidently didn’t like being ignored, so she said a sugary good-bye and waltzed back into her house.

  Andrea lifted herself from the porch and made her way down to Sean’s driveway. Her body was shaking and hot, but she pretended coolness as she stuck her hands into her back pockets and watched him work.

  “Is it a Feline thing?” she asked. “Going commando?”

  Sean kept tinkering. “No, it’s a ‘no clean laundry’ thing.”

  Andrea tried a grin, but her heart was still pounding. “What, won’t Kim wash the big, bad alpha’s underwear?”

  “She’s a modern woman, Kim is. Which means she’ll look after her mate but not his good-for-nothing brother. She makes Connor do his own laundry too. Says it builds character.”

  “She makes you males work the washing machine? That must be something to see.”

  “Oh, I know how to,” Sean said, still not looking away from his task. “I just forgot to.”

  Andrea leaned down, hands on her knees, and got lost in watching the muscles in his arms work as he tried to wrest a stubborn bolt loose. He smelled like sunshine and dust, and she didn’t blame Caitlin and Rebecca for wanting to grab him and haul him off.

  “While you’re standing there all pretty,” Sean said, grunting with effort, “will you come down here and grab on to this stiff thing for me?”

  Rowr. Hot words to make her hot. I’ll hold anything you want me to, Sean Morrissey.

  She crouched down. “To what?”

  The glint in his eyes told her he’d phrased the question that way on purpose. “Right here.” He steered her hand to the handle of a wrench that was closed around the bolt. “Just keep a grip on it, and don’t let go.”

  Andrea touched her tongue to her lip. “You’d be amazed at what a tight grip I have.”

  Sean growled low in his throat. “You walk the edge, Andy-girl.”

  She did, and Sean always made her want to leap right over it—to land right on top of him. He steadied her hand again with his strong one, and she held the wrench as he loosened a piece beneath it. The whole assembly came out, Sean and Andrea lifting it away together.

  Nice. Sean’s face hung near to hers, a smudge of grease on his cheek. He smelled of sweat and bike grease, the outdoors, and all she could think of was the sunshine kissing his sweet backside.

  Sean set the piece aside. He started to reach for the next thing he wanted to yank off, but Andrea touched his shoulder. Sean turned back to her, his breath on her face, eyes darkening.

  Andrea was never sure who leaned forward first, but she was melting toward him and, next thing she knew, felt the scalding pressure of Sean’s mouth on hers. He kissed with strength, barely masking his power, and Andrea closed her eyes and drank it in. His hand stole to the back of her neck, arching her up to savor more of her.

  “Come inside with me,” he whispered against her mouth, and she tasted his breath. “You can make sure I wash my underwear. How’s that?”

  She wanted to; oh, she wanted to. No one was home, and they could explore what they’d started. More kissing, more touching, and Andrea could slide her hands into his jeans
and cup his firm, sun-touched backside.

  She pulled away slightly. He watched her, wanting and yet cautious, trying not to scare her. That worry for her twisted her heart around, and at the same time, she wanted to lick the moisture from between his lips.

  “Your pants are vibrating,” she whispered.

  “What?” Sean jerked. “Aw, damn it.” Andrea watched with amusement as Sean unfolded to his feet and yanked his cell phone from its holder.

  As she rose with him, she heard the grating tones of Sean’s father, Dylan, come clearly over the line.

  “Son,” he rumbled. “Fetch the sword. You’re needed.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The warmth and vibrancy drained from Sean’s eyes. “I’ll be right there.” He clicked off the phone, looking grim.

  “What is it?” Andrea asked. “What’s happened?”

  Sean shoved the phone back into its holder. “My cousin Ely in San Antonio. Another drive-by shooting. Dad says he’s still alive, but ...” The way Sean trailed off said it all. “He’s asking for the Guardian.”

  The darkness Andrea sensed in Sean came forward with a vengeance. His smiles were gone, as was the charming lilt with which he’d asked her to go inside with him. Then he’d sounded like a warm man seeking pleasure on a sunny morning; now he was the cold man who’d looked upon so much death.

  “Sean, I’m sorry.” Andrea rubbed his tight forearm. “I don’t understand, though. The San Antonio Shiftertown has a Guardian, doesn’t it? I thought the humans made each Shiftertown use its own.”

  “That Guardian is Lupine, and Ely’s my kin. Dad says Ely wants me, and I don’t care about the human rules right now. They think what we do is only ceremonial anyway.” Sean looked down at her, his eyes tight with pain. “Come with me?”

  Andrea started shaking her head before he finished the sentence. “I can’t. I shouldn’t. I’m a half-Fae Lupine. His family won’t want me there.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You might be able to help.”

  “If you’re thinking of my healing gift, I told you; it’s not very strong. It might make no difference at all.”

  “Damn it, Andrea, we have to try.”

  The desperation in Sean’s eyes caught at Andrea’s heart. She hadn’t recovered from his smiling suggestion that they go into the house—no one was home; she knew that. She’d wanted what he offered so much it worried her.

  But their personal lives had just dwindled to background noise. Once again, Sean was being asked to go and watch someone die.

  Andrea drew a breath. “All right.” She might be able to ease Ely’s pain a little, at the very least.

  Sean looked at his bike in pieces, then turned away, sunshine dancing in his dark hair. “Dad left his truck in the back. The keys are in it. Fetch it and meet me round front.”

  Andrea nodded. Sean wiped off his hands, picked up his tools, and disappeared into the house without a word.

  He’d gone to get the sword. Andrea’s heart beat faster. Sean’s expression, before he’d turned away, had been so empty that she’d wanted to put her arms around him. She hadn’t had the heart to refuse his request to accompany him, though she still wasn’t sure how much good she could do. Her healing talent had fixed up Ronan, but that had been the equivalent of bandaging a skinned knee. Kodiak bear Ronan was tough and strong, and he had an amazing metabolism. A few bullets in the shoulder were to him what bee stings were to everyone else. If Sean’s father had told Sean to bring the sword, it meant that Dylan thought Sean’s cousin beyond saving.

  Andrea found the white pickup parked behind the house, keys hanging from the ignition. No Shifter would take another Shifter’s vehicle, and few humans ever ventured into Shiftertown without invitation, so the chances of someone stealing it were slim to none. Despite the fact that the truck was ten or more years old, Andrea knew, as she started it up, that it would be in perfect condition. Shifters learned to keep vehicles running in top shape, being forbidden to buy brand new ones.

  She pulled the pickup through the alley and around to the front of the house. Ellison Rowe, another Lupine and a friend to the Morrisseys, came out of his house across the street and jogged over.

  Ellison’s pack had been relocated here when Shifters took the Collar twenty years ago, but by all evidence he loved being a Texan, even by adoption. He never left home without his big belt buckle, cowboy boots, hat, and Texas drawl.

  “What’s up?” he asked, leaning on the open window.

  “There’s been another shooting. Down in San Antonio. Sean’s cousin.”

  Ellison’s face changed. “Aw, shit, not again. What the hell is going on?”

  “Must be a new hobby for humans.”

  “Damn,” Ellison growled. “Come and play Shoot the Shifter. Step right up, have a good time. Assholes.”

  Sean emerged from the house in a button-down shirt in place of his T-shirt, the sword strapped to his back. Ellison straightened up. “I’m sorry, man,” he said.

  Sean nodded his thanks. He approached the driver’s side, and Andrea slid over to let him get in. Sean carefully laid the sword across the seat, but the pickup was narrow, and the hilt had to rest on Andrea’s lap.

  “Goddess go with you,” Ellison said as Sean buckled his seat belt. “Andrea, don’t let this Feline get you into any trouble, now, hear?”

  “No worries there,” Andrea said, giving him a little smile. “Will you tell Glory where I am if she comes back?”

  “You bet.” Ellison patted the top of the truck and stepped away as Sean pulled the truck away from the curb. Ellison watched them go, his stance somber.

  Sean was silent as they rolled through the streets outside Shiftertown. As though a switch had flipped in him, Sean had gone from a Shifter male flirting with a female to a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His blue eyes flickered as he gave the traffic on Ben White a steely gaze, his hands tight on the steering wheel.

  “Sean,” she said softly. “Please don’t count on me to save your cousin. Ronan’s was a flesh wound. If vital organs have been hit, that’s different.”

  Sean acknowledged this with a tight nod. “I know that, love. But I can’t not try.”

  “Oh, I’m willing to try. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “I like hope,” he said, his mouth softening. “Hope—it’s a fine thing.”

  The sheathed sword’s hilt was hard on Andrea’s lap. She brushed it with her fingertips and felt the Fae magic in it, a tingle that worked its way through her body. Andrea could see it in her mind, golden threads of Fae spells wafting from the metal.

  She saw those same kinds of threads in her nightmares too, shimmering wires that sought to bind her, to trap her. Last night, she’d fought them again, flailing and thrashing to get away, and they’d drawn tighter, tighter.

  She drew a sharp breath.

  Sean glanced at her, his face too tight. He was nearly vibrating with tension, his grief and anger held too closely inside him. Shifters shouldn’t do that; it ate them up.

  Whenever Shifters became overwhelmed with an emotion, especially one like grief, they withdrew from the world, taking time alone to work through it. This instinct had kept the pack from weakening in the wild, because the pack leader wouldn’t have to worry about protecting a Shifter too grief-stricken to fight. But Sean could never disappear for weeks while he licked his wounds, because the clan always needed its Guardian. The Guardian freed souls with one thrust of the sword but was never free himself.

  Andrea lifted the sword and slid over in the seat until her thigh touched his. Sean’s need for touch screamed itself at her, and she couldn’t justify denying him comfort because she wasn’t certain how she felt about his mate-claim.

  The Shifter in her recognized that Sean had ten times the strength of Jared, physically and emotionally, not to mention in the dominance department. If Sean ever decided to force the mate-claim, Andrea might not be able to withstand him. Sean could have forced it today—hell, a
ny time since she’d arrived. But he hadn’t. He’d soothed her fear with his Shifter touch and told her he’d wait for her. That put Sean a hundred times higher in her estimation than spoiled-brat Jared.

  Andrea slid her hand around Sean’s arm, shivering a little at the hardness of the bicep under her palm. Sean looked down at her, eyes deep blue.

  “Thank you, Andy-love.”

  “Keep your eyes on the road, hot ass. Austin traffic is insane.”

  A tiny smile brushed his mouth. “Isn’t it, though?”

  “It is. I’m used to wide open roads and mountain vistas.”

  “You’ll not be getting that here, love. But I can show you some beautiful places. It’s not so bad.”

  “Says the man from Ireland, where mountains don’t exist.”

  Sean took his hand from the wheel to rest it over hers, rough fingers tightening. “We had some grand hills there.” His voice matched hers, two people trying to say lighthearted things to keep from thinking about terrible ones. “You should see the black cliffs tumbling into the sea in County Kerry. ’Tis a beautiful sight.”

  “But it’s not the Rockies.” While she spoke, Sean squeezed her hand ever-more tightly. “You look at those mountains, and you know no one rules them. Not humans, not Shifters. They’ve stood there for eons, dominating the edge of the plains, fearing nothing.”

  “Same thing in Kerry. ’Tis an old place, ancient. You can feel it in your bones. All this—Shifters, humans, Fae—doesn’t matter.”

  “You miss Ireland.”

  “Aye. But it’s grand here too. No more hunger, no more struggle. Just time to watch Connor grow up, see Liam mated and about to become a father. We’re stronger now, more likely to survive.” His jaw hardened. “Except for humans and their stupid weapons.”

  “They won’t win,” Andrea squeezed his hand in return, noting that Sean’s body smelled damn good.