Midnight Wolf

  “Not sure.” Angus didn’t want to talk about specifics in the middle of a restaurant with other customers three feet away.

  “I get you,” Ben said. “Let’s enjoy the food and then adjourn someplace more private.”

  Tamsin sat close to Ben, their shoulders and elbows touching as they munched chips. “How’s the house?” she asked him.

  “Great. I watched Shifter Bureau goons trying to find it—cars creeping slowly back and forth on the nearby roads, but the house kept itself hidden. And me inside it.”

  Haider must have sent people to search from the point they’d gone off the GPS the night Angus had captured Tamsin. If the house didn’t want to be found, then the searchers wouldn’t be able to pinpoint it.

  “How did you get out?” Tamsin asked. “I assume they left someone in the area to watch. Did they follow you?” She didn’t sound unduly worried, only curious.

  Ben shook his head. “I’m very good at sneaking around. No one sees me if I don’t want them to. Anyway, they don’t know to look for me. I’m just a random dude.”

  “No, no.” Tamsin patted his arm. “You’re not random. You’re very special.”

  Ben looked pleased. “Aw, you’re just saying that.”

  “A very special goblin. Are there any lady goblins?”

  The flash of pain in Ben’s eyes was hard to miss, though he hid it the next second. “No. Not anymore.”

  Tamsin lost her smile. “I’m sorry.” She rested her head on Ben’s shoulder in true sympathy.

  Ben shrugged, but Tamsin didn’t move. “Them’s the breaks when the Fae hate you,” he said. “By the way, you smell a little bit like one. You been hanging around a Fae?”

  No rancor, but the hint of anger was there.

  “Yes. Celene,” Tamsin said. “She’s half Fae. A tightrope walker, or former one anyway. She says her days balancing thirty feet above the ground are over. She’s mated to a Shifter now.”

  “Okaayy,” Ben said dubiously.

  “I like her,” Ciaran said. “And her daughter is cute. Brina’s teaching me how to sell jewelry. I’m good at it.”

  Ben switched his gaze to Ciaran, his dark brows rising. Angus knew his hatred of the Fae ran deep, but he’d been known to make exceptions for individuals, once they’d proven themselves. Ben said nothing to Ciaran, only went back to munching chips, loading them with both kinds of salsa.

  The waitress returned to take their order. Tamsin went through the long menu and chose several dishes, as did Ben. Ciaran picked out what he wanted, and Angus ordered two plain soft beef tacos with salsa. Tiger asked for a large steak.

  Ben, Tamsin, and Ciaran ate food off one another’s plates, enjoying tamales, several different kinds of enchiladas that oozed cheese, carne adobada—which was meat in a rich red sauce—burritos stuffed with so much filling it burst out both ends, and carnitas—pork that had been slow cooked all day, rubbed with spices. Green chiles were everywhere, in the sauces, on the sides of the plates, chopped over Tiger’s steak. He ate them without a qualm.

  “Seriously, that’s all you’re going to eat?” Tamsin asked Angus, eyeing his two modest tacos, which were slathered with cheese and chiles.

  He nodded. “I think better when I’m not stuffed.”

  “I don’t.” Tamsin patted her stomach. “I think better when I’m full and warm and a little bit sleepy.”

  “Don’t we all,” Ben agreed.

  Ciaran watched them both in fascination, then patted his belly in imitation of Tamsin. “Me too.”

  “Great.” Angus pretended to scowl. “My kid is being raised by gluttons.”

  “Goblins and gluttons.” Tamsin grinned. “We know what it’s like to be hungry, that’s all. We know not being hungry is the better state. When you have food—enjoy it.”

  Angus remembered how shaky she’d been when he’d brought her to the house in Louisiana, how she’d admitted she hadn’t eaten in a while.

  Never again, Angus vowed. Tamsin would never have to be on the road alone, wondering when she’d find her next meal. No matter what Angus had to do to put things right with Shifter Bureau or convince the Morrisseys to work her into the system as they’d done for Tiger, he’d make sure Tamsin always had a home, food, family. Even if he had to fight the world to do it.

  Not content with ordering half the menu, Ben had the waitress bring a platter of sopapillas for dessert. Angus partook, liking the light, puffy pastries covered with cinnamon and honey. He licked his fingers, glancing at Tamsin and thinking what a fun dish it would be to eat with her—alone. He could accidentally drip honey on her neck and lick it clean. Drip it on other places as well, and she could do the same to him.

  Tamsin caught his eye, and a slow smile spread across her face as she licked a drop of honey from the corner of her mouth. Angus’s cheeks burned, but he refused to look away.

  Tamsin gave him a look filled with promise, then returned to her conversation with Ben.

  The meal finally ended, the waitress happy with the generous tip Ben bestowed upon her. He might be good at slipping in and out of places unnoticed, but this restaurant would remember him.

  Angus had borrowed a pickup from one of Dante’s employees to drive downtown, and they piled back in to follow Ben, who led the way on his motorcycle. He knew a place, he said, where they could talk.

  The place proved to be a house halfway up the mountain, tucked at the end of an empty lane. The house was fairly new—built in the last decade, it looked like, with an ultramodern kitchen that took up half the living space.

  “Belongs to a friend,” Ben said as he unlocked it with a key and tapped in an alarm code.

  “I see,” Tamsin said as she looked around the spacious interior. “A lady friend?”

  “Sadly, no. Guy and his wife I used to work for. When you live a thousand years, you get to know a lot of people.”

  He spoke in a matter-of-fact way, but Angus saw another flicker of pain. When you lived a long time, you lost a lot of people too. Shifters didn’t live as long as Ben, but already Angus had felt the bite of loss of human friends from his childhood.

  Tiger would not let them venture any farther into the house until he’d circled the outside, then walked into every room on the inside. When he finished, he took a seat at the breakfast bar and gave Angus a nod. “Clear. No people, no listening devices.”

  Angus remembered Tiger saying he could hear the signal a listening device gave off. He and Tamsin exchanged a glance.

  Tamsin nodded glumly at him—on the way, they’d agreed Angus would lay out the problem to the others.

  Ciaran sat next to Tiger, copying his stance of leaning his elbows back on the breakfast bar. Ciaran would avidly listen to every word, but Angus wouldn’t hold back. His son deserved to know the danger.

  Angus related the story of his brother and his rebellion, how Gavan had been caught, given a flash trial by Shifter Bureau, and executed, how Angus’s mate had been caught and executed with him. He told them how Tamsin had joined the group for a while and then thought better of it when Gavan had showed her his stash of human weapons, collected so he and his band could wreak havoc. Now they had the question of what to do about it.

  There was a long silence when he finished.

  “So what do you think?” Angus asked them.

  Tiger spoke before Ben could. “Destroy it. Weapons reaching Shifter or human hands is a bad idea.”

  “Agreed. How to do that is the problem.”

  Ben rubbed his chin. “The military gets rid of its surplus by selling things off to other countries—not a viable option. Or they melt things down, explode the ordnance, bury it in a deep hole if it’s nuclear.” Ben turned a worried gaze to Tamsin. “Please tell me nothing is nuclear.”

  Tamsin shook her head. “I don’t think so, but I’m no expert. I saw guns in racks, grenades, lots of ammu
nition.”

  Tiger broke in. “You need special facilities to melt down guns or blow up grenades.”

  “We couldn’t go to the DOD and ask to use a facility for a little while, could we?” Tamsin asked, then sighed. “Nah, didn’t think so.”

  “Not selling them,” Angus said. “Not to people in other countries or to criminals here. Not giving them to Shifters either.”

  Tamsin held herself tightly, arms folded. “Someone might have found them already—they might not be there anymore. Or Gavan might have moved them or sold them. Or one of his guys did after Gavan was caught.”

  “If Gavan moved or sold them, that in itself worries me,” Angus said. “So first step, find out.”

  “With Shifter Bureau all over Shreveport watching out for me,” Tamsin pointed out.

  “That’s why you have friends,” Ben said. “Friends who are good at stealth. I can look for you.”

  “Friends who can protect you,” Tiger put in. “I will keep you safe.”

  Tamsin spread her arms. “Aw, you two are so nice. You barely know me—why would you do this?”

  “We know Angus,” Ben said. “He’s cranky, but he’s a good guy. And I know about people. Tiger will tell you he can scent the difference between good and evil, and I think he really can.”

  Tiger’s lips twitched, the closest he came to smiling. “There is more to it than that. But I know.”

  Tamsin steepled her fingers and brought them to her lips, her banter fading. Angus saw thoughts dancing behind her eyes and imagined they were similar to his. They had to decide whether to heave the recon onto Ben’s shoulders or risk it themselves. Plus, they had to trust that Ben wouldn’t suddenly go wild at the sight of all the weapons and use them himself, such as for avenging the death of his people on the Fae.

  “Are you sure you can do it without Shifter Bureau spotting you and following you?” Tamsin asked Ben. “Or anyone else for that matter, like the human police?”

  “Hmm,” Ben said, and then he vanished.

  Tamsin yelped, and Angus jumped. He knew Ben had some magic, but he’d never seen it in action before.

  Tiger didn’t move, and neither did Ciaran. “He’s right there,” Ciaran said, pointing to a shadow between the large refrigerator and the hall to the back door.

  Angus peered where his son indicated and gradually, Ben’s outline became clear, like an object slowly illuminated by dawn light. Ben stepped forward, solid and substantial once more.

  “Hard to fool cubs,” he said. “They know how to look at things. Can’t fool Tiger either.”

  Tiger only nodded, not boastful.

  Tamsin gave Ben an admiring look. “Convinced me. How do you do that? Slip between molecules of air?”

  Ben raised his brows. “What kind of books do you read? It’s sort of misdirection. Using light and shadow to my advantage. A glam to make watchers look somewhere else. I practice.” He huffed on his fingernails and brushed them against his shirt.

  “What do you think, Angus?” Tamsin asked. “Have him dodge in and check it out?”

  “Your call,” Angus said. “Your stash.”

  “Not mine. It belonged to your brother. So your call.”

  Ben let out a laugh. “I don’t know if watching you two defer to each other is sweet or hilarious. I should go. If Tamsin is caught, it wouldn’t go well for her.”

  No, it would not. Trusting Ben was the best option. If he tried to do anything duplicitous with the arsenal, Angus would let Shifter Bureau, Dylan, and the human police chase him. Angus liked Ben, but he would choose Tamsin’s safety, and Ciaran’s, over all others. Always.

  “Ben goes,” Angus said.

  Tamsin nodded. “I agree.” She let out a breath. “Let me give you the directions.”

  * * *

  • • •

  Tiger accompanied Angus, Tamsin, and Ciaran back to the carnival, now their self-appointed bodyguard.

  Tamsin hugged Ben before he got onto his motorcycle and rode off, her heart heavy. She wasn’t sure if she hoped he found the arsenal intact or discovered it had gone. Damn Gavan—what had he been thinking? If Shifter Bureau hadn’t caught him when they had . . . Tamsin shuddered. She didn’t like to think about what Gavan would have ultimately done with the weapons.

  Angus was quiet as they drove back to the field where the carnival was being set up. He returned the truck, then went to help out, after giving Tamsin a long, heartfelt kiss.

  Now to wait.

  If Ben rode his motorcycle all the way, it would take him at least a day or so to cross through Texas, cutting south and east to Louisiana. Longer if he needed food and rest, though who knew what kind of sustenance a goblin needed? Ben could sure put away the food.

  Tamsin tried not to worry about him. Shifter Bureau didn’t know about him, Ben had told them. Not much of anyone did. He was good at taking care of himself, he assured them. Had been for a thousand years. The loneliness touching that statement nearly broke Tamsin’s heart.

  Ben checked in with Tiger later that night—how, Tamsin didn’t know, because she never saw Tiger with a phone. Tiger conveyed the message that Ben had made it to Dallas and would sleep and then ride on to Shreveport early in the morning.

  After Tiger delivered the message, Tamsin put Ciaran to bed and sat up on the mattress in the back to wait for Angus. She browsed through magazines Celene had lent her, seeing that adorable shoes were in the stores for fall and winter. Maybe Tamsin could use the rest of her poker money to go shopping, now that the carnival was giving her a regular weekly paycheck.

  She put any plans aside, along with the magazines, when Angus came in.

  He paused to check on Ciaran, who was snoring—in a miniature version of his dad’s snores—and started to strip off his clothes.

  Tamsin forgot about a lot of things as she watched him. Angus was a big man, tight with muscle, a strong wolf with a broad chest and powerful thighs. Angus put out the light before he slid off his underwear, modest when he wasn’t undressing to shift.

  Tamsin, in a nightshirt and nothing else, slid over to let him into the bed. Angus settled down, and Tamsin draped herself across him under the covers.

  “I need new clothes,” she said. “I’m sure Celene doesn’t want to share hers with me forever. I saw that Albuquerque has a mall.”

  Angus rumbled in the darkness. “I thought we were hiding weapons from Shifter Bureau.”

  “What has that got to do with anything? Ben won’t get back to us until tomorrow, and then we’ll have to decide what to do. A few hours of shopping in between won’t hurt.”

  Angus rubbed his hand over his face, catching on his beard. “I’ll never understand females.”

  “There’s nothing to understand. We are the most logical of beings. We need clothes, we shop. We don’t go into denial wearing the same shirt for months until it’s a rag held together with a few pieces of thread.”

  The rumbling deepened. “What are you saying?”

  “And we don’t automatically assume everything someone says is about us.”

  “Yes, you do. Women take everything personally.”

  “I don’t,” Tamsin said with emphasis, then she laughed, skimmed off her nightshirt, and snuggled down with him. “We need to talk.”

  Angus feigned a shudder. “Why does that fill me with foreboding? What are you going to spring on me now? My brother had two arsenals? Or twenty cubs with all these women he mate-claimed?”

  “He didn’t have any cubs at all. Which is interesting. But no.” Tamsin traced a pattern on his bare chest, liking how his wiry hair curled around her fingertip. “What are we going to do afterward? I mean if Shifter Bureau doesn’t catch us and kill us. Where will we live? Together? Or . . .”

  Angus went silent, and Tamsin’s heart thumped. The silence held tension.

  “I thought y
ou were happy following the carnival,” he said after a moment. “Living the nomadic life.”

  “I am. For now. But I’ve been thinking. You have friends in your Shiftertown, good friends, like Reg. Ties. Ciaran has friends there too, and I assume friends at school. Do you truly want to never see them again? Be on the run all the time?”

  Angus’s faint growl vibrated his chest. “What’s this really about, Tamsin?”

  Tamsin raised her head, her braid falling across her shoulder. “I’m not sure. I’ve never wanted to live in a Shiftertown. I don’t want to be Collared. I’d die, I think. But then, I want to see my mother. I miss her—I’m crazy with missing her. If I remain a fugitive, I’ll never see her again. So it made me think—is that what will happen to you if you don’t go home? You’ll never see the ones you care about again? Is that what you want?” Tears stung her eyes, and she tried to blink them back.

  Angus lifted his hand and smoothed a wisp of her hair. “Sweetheart. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Tamsin sniffled, swiping at her cheeks. “Which part? I made a lot of statements in that speech.”

  “About missing your mum. You seem so contented, like it’s easy for you to find joy in anything, no matter what.”

  “I learned to, because if I didn’t, I’d sit down and never get up again. I lost my sister to Shifter hunters. We were close, Angus. I can’t explain how close. And then she was gone. My mother was gone too, locked away. I’d made the decision to run when Shifter Bureau came for us. The price has been losing my sister and never seeing my mother. I don’t want to risk my mother’s relative freedom by trying to contact her—she might be punished with me if I’m caught.”

  “Goddess, Tamsin, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Tamsin lay down again, resting her head on his shoulder as he continued to stroke her hair. His large hand was strong, warm in the darkness. “And now I don’t want to lose you too. But you’re risking everything staying with me.”

  He kissed her forehead. “You let me worry about that, love.”

  Tamsin popped her head up. “Sorry, I can’t just forget that you and your cub could be arrested for not going home to Shiftertown like good boys. So what happens? Do you throw off your Collar and run away with me? Or do I lock myself into your Shiftertown and pray Shifter Bureau doesn’t notice me or execute me? And Tiger let slip that if a Shifter disappears from his Shiftertown, its leader is punished, and other Shifters in that Shiftertown might be too.”