Ciaran took the phone with an expression that showed he was proud to take on this responsibility. He flipped open the phone, expertly scrolled through Angus’s contacts, and touched a button.
In a moment, Dimitri Kashnikov’s voice came through the phone.
“This is Dimitri. What’s your pleasure, Angus?”
“It’s Ciaran.” Ciaran adopted a nonchalant slouch as he spoke. “We need wheels, Dimitri. Can you get us some? There’s three of us—me, my dad, and a hot chick he picked up. She’s on the run, and he’s helping her. Meet up on the Louisiana side of the border?”
Dimitri’s carefree tone vanished. “What?”
“I said we need—”
“I heard you, kid. I’m just stunned. Let me talk to Angus.”
“He’s busy driving. We’re running for our lives.”
Angus growled. “Keep the details to a minimum, I said.”
“Dimitri’s cool,” Ciaran told him. “Can you do it, Dimitri? Where should we meet up?”
“Put me on speaker,” Dimitri’s voice said.
Ciaran punched a key without having to search for the right one. Angus always marveled at how adept his cub was with technology.
Dimitri’s flowing tones filled the air. “Angus, what the h-hell are you doing?”
Dimitri, a red wolf, used to stammer quite badly, but since he’d mated with Jaycee, a beautiful leopard Shifter, his stammer had all but vanished. He had to be very agitated now for it to return.
“Running from Shifter Bureau,” Angus said. “Long story. I need to switch vehicles. We’re ahead, but before long, they’ll figure out what we’re driving and where we are.”
“Right.” Dimitri’s voice faded a moment, but Angus could tell he was talking to someone in the background. His voice came back. “There’s a diner in Lake Charles, near the bus station but off the beaten path. Wait for me there. They have great po’ boys.”
“Awesome.” Ciaran bounced on the seat. He’d taken to Cajun food as soon as he’d had the teeth to chew. Any kind of food, in truth. Ciaran could put it away.
Dimitri gave more specific directions to the diner, then said, “See ya, Ciaran. Keep your old man out of trouble.”
“Not easy, but I’ll try,” Ciaran said. “Bye, Dimitri. Give Jaycee a kiss for me.”
“Now, there’s something I can enjoy.” Dimitri laughed and then the laugh cut off as he hung up the phone.
“Mmm,” Tamsin stirred under Angus’s arm. “Po’ boys. I could eat a good sandwich.”
“We won’t be going into this diner,” Angus said abruptly. “We’re switching cars in the parking lot and getting the hell out of town.”
Tamsin rose from his side, stretched, and yawned. “Sure, whatever. Who was that? He sounded cute.”
“Dimitri Kashnikov,” Ciaran answered. “He’s a red wolf and lives in the secret compound in Texas with his mate, Jaycee. She’s gorgeous, and really fast, and a seriously good fighter. If they let her fight in the fight club, she’d beat everybody, I bet.”
Tamsin listened with interest. “What’s the fight club?”
“Not important—” Angus tried, but Ciaran couldn’t be stopped.
“It’s where Shifters fight each other for fun and profit. Every Shiftertown has one, or at least one nearby. It isn’t allowed, but Shiftertown leaders pretend they don’t know. The leaders never attend, so they’re not sure where it is, and we change up the location from time to time. That way, if the Shifter leaders are interrogated about it, they really have no idea where it is or how many Shifters go.”
Angus broke in. “Ciaran, we really need to have a talk about discretion.”
“It’s all right,” Tamsin said. “Ciaran understands all about need-to-know. And I need to know.” She leaned around the seat to him. “Why don’t they let Jaycee fight if she’s so good? Because she’ll beat everyone?”
Ciaran looked surprised Tamsin had to ask. “Because she’s female. Females don’t fight in the fight clubs. They might get hurt.”
“You think? So could males.”
“Yeah, but males can’t have cubs. What happens if a female is hurt so bad she can’t have cubs anymore? That would be terrible.”
Tamsin looked thoughtful. “I agree, it would be. But males also could be hurt so much they couldn’t have kids. What happens if his nuts are torn up? Or hit so hard they stop functioning?”
Angus had to halt this conversation. “For the Goddess’ sake—”
“There are some rules,” Ciaran went on without blinking. “No killing. No outside interference—no one can run into the ring and help you. And no targeting balls and penises, in human or animal form.”
Tamsin grinned. “You mean, no hitting below the belt.”
“No one’s wearing a belt,” Ciaran said, puzzled. “Everyone fights naked so they can shift.”
“I so have to go to one of these,” Tamsin said in delight. “Is there one close to where we’ll be?”
“They’re all over,” Ciaran said. “You just have to know where to look for them. And they’re not held every night. About once a week, or maybe once every two weeks so Shifters can rest in between.”
Tamsin turned her gaze to Angus. “Take us to a fight club, please, Angus? Why not? If they’re so secret I’ve never heard of them, I bet Shifter Bureau doesn’t know where they are either.”
Angus raised his voice to cut through their chatter. “No. I’m not taking a night off running from Haider to go to a fight club. Cubs aren’t allowed anyway.”
“Cubs might not be allowed,” Ciaran said. “My dad is one of the best fighters of the New Orleans fight club. I’ve seen him. He’s never been beat.”
Angus glared into the rearview mirror. “Are you telling me you go to fight club fights?”
Ciaran contrived to look innocent. “Only to watch you, Dad. Reg takes me.”
Angus hadn’t known that. Angus went to the fight club to take out his frustration about the losses in his life: his mate, his place in the hierarchy, the trust of other Shifters, his brother. Ciaran was supposed to have been home with his babysitter while Angus let out his aggressions—the babysitter being Angus’s trusted best friend, Reg.
“Son of a—” Angus thumped the steering wheel. “I need to have a serious talk with him.”
“Why?” Tamsin asked. She lowered her seat back, resettling her sunglasses over her eyes. “Reg seems like a nice guy. Letting you use his car without question, agreeing to pick me up when he didn’t know anything about me. He must be a really good friend.”
“He is.” Angus’s voice lost its hardest edge. “When I was accused of being in with Gavan up to my neck, he stuck by me.”
“You see?” Ciaran spread his hands. “So it’s fine to go to the fight club with Reg. He looks out for me.”
“Still going to talk to him about that. And if we weren’t heading down a freeway to a covert meeting in a diner parking lot, you’d be grounded.”
Ciaran’s face puckered in the scowl that was so like Angus’s own, then it cleared, his good humor returning. “Good thing we’re on the run, then.”
Tamsin laughed. “I really like your cub, Angus.”
“I like you too.” Ciaran sounded slightly surprised but pleased at this revelation.
“Aw.” Tamsin twisted to reach around the seat for Ciaran’s hand. Ciaran held hers for a moment, relaxing the same way he did when Angus hugged him.
The two smiled at each other. Angus glanced at them and couldn’t stop the twinge of foreboding inside him.
* * *
• • •
Lake Charles was a town hugging the lake of the same name, a spread of houses, stores, and gas stations, no different from most small towns in the states Tamsin had seen in her life. The land was flat and green, landscaped trees soared in yards, and lawns separated neighbor
from neighbor.
The diner lay down a side street that contained shops, a church with a square steeple, a few restaurants, a self-storage center, and a lumberyard.
The day was waning as Angus pulled around the block to the parking lot behind the diner. The lot was small, sharing space with other businesses and a large Dumpster.
Angus parked the SUV in the lot’s one empty space, turned off the engine, and let out a tired breath.
The guy had to be exhausted. Tamsin had slept at the haunted house and again as they drove, but she didn’t know when Angus had. He’d showered at the house, but the red lines around his eyes and the droop of his body told her maybe he hadn’t laid his butt down in a long time.
Shifters didn’t require as much rest as humans—they could go for days if necessary—but they needed some. Tamsin guessed Angus had been awake nonstop since Haider had recruited him.
Tamsin unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door. When Angus didn’t move, she said, “You coming?”
Angus’s gray eyes fixed on her. “I told you, we’re not going in.”
“I am,” Tamsin said. “I’m starving. So is Ciaran. I bet Haider didn’t feed him in that crypt.”
“Not well,” Ciaran said with a shudder.
“Too dangerous,” Angus snapped. “We wait.”
Tamsin hopped out of the SUV and looked back in at Angus. “There’s an old fox saying—You’re not the boss of me. Now, what am I in the mood for? Barbecue beef? Maybe some shrimp? Or debris?” Roast beef with its gravy made rich with roast-beef shavings—Tamsin had only had a debris po’ boy once, but she never forgot it.
“Mmm.” Ciaran almost moaned. “Come on, Dad, please? I’m hungry, and we gave Haider the slip. It will take Dimitri a while to get here, though maybe less if he lets Jaycee drive. If you put on your jacket and keep it zipped up, no one will see your Collar.”
Angus frowned at him for a long time, but Tamsin saw when the tide turned. Ciaran needed to eat, Tamsin was going inside no matter what, and Angus knew he wouldn’t win this battle.
The breath he let out had a snarl in it. “All right.” He grabbed his jacket from the back seat where he’d tossed it and shrugged it on. “We’ll go in. But keep a low profile, and no talking.” He moved his finger from Ciaran to Tamsin.
“Sweet!” Tamsin slammed her door and opened Ciaran’s. “Come on, Ciaran. Let’s go eat everything in sight. And then have dessert.”
CHAPTER TEN
Tamsin walked into the diner behind Angus, who was leading, as Shifter males liked to. She held Ciaran’s hand, absurdly pleased that he let her.
Angus dropped his hood as they went in, but the jacket covered his throat. Other men in this diner wore hoodies, as the rain was pelting down outside.
Ciaran looked like a human kid, even if he had wiry muscles and a gray-eyed stare like his father’s. If the people here weren’t used to Shifters, they wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that Angus and Ciaran weren’t strictly human.
Angus received a few startled glances, being as large as he was, and all Shifter males had something of the beast about them. But the fact that he was with Tamsin, who’d never be large, and Ciaran, who was adorable, softened the looks. The big bad male couldn’t be so bad if a harmless-looking woman and cute little boy followed him without fear.
It was a seat-yourself place, so Angus led them to the rear of the dining room, sitting down in the chair that let him put his back to the wall. From there, he could observe the entrance as well as the hall that led to the restrooms and rear exit.
Tamsin, living without a Collar and hiding her Shifter-ness for years, was less wary about those around her. Most people were out for dinner with families and friends, and because this was a local place, many of the diners knew one another. This town was on an interstate, however, which was only a few blocks away, and so the locals saw nothing odd in strangers stopping for a bite on their way through town or to the lake.
Ciaran lifted the menu, which was almost as large as he was. “Can I get anything I want?”
“Sure,” Tamsin said at the same time Angus barked, “No.”
Angus shot Tamsin an irritated look. “If you eat too much and get sick, you’ll slow us down,” he said to Ciaran.
“I won’t eat too much,” Ciaran scoffed. “If I get one steak and shrimp po’ boy and one sausage, that will be enough. Barely. Those guys really didn’t give me much to eat.” He made sad wolf-cub eyes over the menu at Angus.
Tamsin hid a laugh. Ciaran knew how to milk a situation, even a bad one. Good. Kept him from being traumatized. Tamsin knew all about trauma.
“Get the steak and shrimp one,” Angus said. “If you finish that, then we’ll order more.”
Ciaran let out an aggrieved sigh. “Oh, all right.”
The waitress stopped at the table, beaming a wide smile. “How are y’all? What do you want to drink?”
Before Ciaran could speak, Angus ordered glasses of water, which the busboy was already slamming down in front of them, and coffee for himself.
“And a giant sweet tea for me,” Tamsin said. “The sweeter, the better. With lots of ice in it.”
“Oh, Dad, let me have a sweet tea. It’s all right—it’s not like sodas. Dad doesn’t let me drink those,” he confided to Tamsin.
The waitress looked at “Dad” for confirmation. Angus gave a grudging nod. “Not too much.”
The waitress bustled away to fetch the drinks. She was back with them soon, the glasses beaded with condensation on this humid evening.
They ordered the po’ boys and the cheerful waitress sailed away again.
Tamsin studied Angus while pretending to keep an eye out around the diner. Angus’s gray eyes were focused on the door, waiting for whatever trouble might come through it. His body was tight, his fists curled on the table. If a Shifter Bureau agent did come through the door, Tamsin sensed Angus would have her and Ciaran down the restroom hall and out the back faster than fast.
An agent wouldn’t come in, Tamsin was willing to bet. She’d gotten good at knowing when she was being followed and when she was in the clear for a while. They’d given Haider the slip for now.
But he’d be coming for them eventually, she was well aware. Hopefully Angus and Ciaran would be safe from the man before then.
Angus was a good fighter though, as Tamsin had already seen. He was also nice-looking. His face had clean lines, though his nose might be a bit long—but he was a wolf, couldn’t help that—and his eyes had a way of pinning you even when he wore a neutral look.
As though Angus felt her watching him, he turned his head and met her gaze. Tamsin’s cheeks warmed, and she quickly looked away.
The food came. Long sandwiches on flaky bread piled with meat and dripping with gravy oozed on the plates, and the waitress plopped down a huge basket of potato chips for all of them to share.
“Tamsin,” Ciaran said. “This is how I eat mine. Watch.” He took off the top bun of his sandwich, swept up a handful of chips, and pressed them on top of his roast beef. Fried shrimp slid from under the meat, but Ciaran patiently replaced them. He jammed the top piece of bread back on and opened his mouth wide for his first bite.
Sauce and shrimp squirted out of the sandwich along with a few chips. Tamsin burst into laughter. She expected Angus to snarl at his son, but his lips twitched, and he said nothing.
Tamsin lifted her sausage and hot sauce sandwich and bit down. Her eyes watered as soon as the food hit her tongue, but she chewed enthusiastically. Good stuff, and she was hungry. The breakfast Ben had cooked very early this morning was a long time ago.
Angus was watching her. He had ordered a roast beef with debris, but he hadn’t eaten any of it yet.
Tamsin realized half her sauce had spilled onto her chin. She reached for the pile of napkins the waitress had left, but Angus had already lifted a napkin, and h
e touched it to the corner of her mouth.
Tamsin stilled, the spice from the sandwich and the warmth from his unexpected touch burning her. Angus’s gentleness manifested as he carefully wiped her lips and then her chin, catching a drip that threatened to trickle down her throat.
Tamsin’s heartbeat was off the scale. She wondered if Angus could feel her pulse banging against his fingertips.
I’m just horny, she told herself. Shifters liked to mate—had the instinct ingrained. She rarely trusted anyone enough to let herself be vulnerable to either a Shifter or a human male, so she’d avoided any kind of sexual encounter, or even opportunity, for a long time. Years, she realized.
Angus wasn’t offering her sex. Hell, she’d had to convince him to come in here and give her food.
He was simply wiping her mouth, like he would for Ciaran. Except he hadn’t reached for a napkin for Ciaran—he was busy scrubbing at his face with half the pile. Angus leaned toward Tamsin, his gray eyes flicking down as he concentrated on dabbing sauce from her chin.
He looked up, and their gazes met, as they had in the hidden room in the house. Right before they’d kissed.
Tamsin wanted to kiss him again. More than wanted to. She craved it. She wanted to kiss him, wrap her arms around him, and keep kissing him. She’d let her hands explore his body, the muscles under his shirt, his tight stomach, his firm buttocks. She wanted his weight on her, his mouth parting her lips, his hands learning her, his thumb brushing her breast and bringing her to life.
She struggled for breath. Angus’s gaze moved to her lips, but he straightened up in the next moment, dropping the crumpled napkin to the table.
Ciaran had ceased eating to watch them, and his expression held hope.
Tamsin smiled feebly at Ciaran, but when she lifted her sandwich again, her hands shook so hard she had to set it down and eat its innards with a fork.
* * *