Midnight Wolf

  Angus snapped the cuff around her good arm, the steel cold. “No. You’re sticking with me, sweetheart.”

  The other cuff didn’t go around the staircase this time but around Angus’s broad wrist.

  Tamsin glared at him. She focused her energy, partly shifted to fox again, and slid her hand from the cuff. Angus blinked at having a fox face so close to his, and then Tamsin was human again, darting into the nearest room and to its long window.

  * * *

  • • •

  Angus followed Tamsin, unlocking the manacle from his wrist as he went. He’d pretty much figured she’d be able to get out of the cuffs, but he’d had to try. Cuffs were psychologically subduing, he’d learned in his bouncer work. Even the drunkest, most obnoxious human could fall down in a blubbering mess once he was cuffed.

  Tamsin moved on light feet across the house’s drawing room, dragged back the draperies, and tried to open a window.

  It wouldn’t budge. Tamsin screamed between her teeth. Instead of beating on the window as she had the door, she glanced around, grabbed the nearest chair she could lift with one hand, and drew it back, ready to throw it at the window.

  Angus wrenched the chair out of her grasp and set it back down. He didn’t think the window would break if the house didn’t want it to, but she could wreck the chair trying.

  “Be careful,” he said. “I told you, the house belongs to a friend of mine. She won’t be happy if you destroy the furniture.”

  Strictly speaking, Angus had met Jasmine, the young human woman who owned the house, exactly once, when she and her Shifter mate had come out to spend some time in it together last month. Ben was more or less the house’s caretaker in Jazz’s absence, but she’d made it clear it was open to Shifters who needed to use it as a getaway as long as they didn’t damage anything.

  Tamsin glared at Angus with wide amber eyes. He saw bald fear in those eyes, her defiant spark fading.

  Did Haider know she was a fox Shifter? Was that why he wanted her? Besides the fact that she was a rogue, un-Collared, and had caused a lot of trouble?

  Angus would love to shake out of her exactly what was going on, and why Haider was so interested in her. Shifter Bureau kept an eye out for those Shifters they’d missed catching and Collaring, but they didn’t usually single one out to go after with such zeal. And why choose Angus for the job?

  Conclusion—Tamsin Calloway knew more than she was telling.

  Angus took hold of her uninjured hand in a firm grip, but he tossed the cuffs to a table and left them there.

  “You hungry?” he asked. “There’s always plenty to eat in this house. Might be a while before Zander can get here.”

  Tamsin tried to hide her flicker of interest. “Zander? Who’s that?”

  “A healer.” Interesting that she’d never heard of him, because Zander was Collarless as well. But then, he was a healer, and healers were elusive, reclusive, and sometimes downright crabby. Zander had a mate now, and being asked to leave her side made him even more irritable. “Come on—let’s see what’s in the fridge.”

  Tamsin didn’t fight as Angus led her out of the drawing room and down the hall. Only when he started up the stairs did she hang back.

  “Why are we going up there?”

  “That’s where the kitchen is. Ground floor is for tourists.”

  Tamsin drew in a breath as though she’d argue, then she gave Angus a nod and started with him up the stairs.

  He didn’t turn her loose until they walked into the big room that was a modern, airy kitchen with retro-looking appliances, a large kitchen table, and a giant walk-in pantry.

  “Sweet!” Tamsin exclaimed. She went to the refrigerator and opened it, bending to stick her head in. “Oh, nice. Who lives here? They know how to keep the place stocked.”

  She backed out with packaged meat and cheese. She dropped that to the counter, then went back for a bag of lettuce and a large tomato. “All we need is bread . . . Ah, here we go.”

  She opened a bin on the counter and pulled out a loaf, set it on a wooden cutting board, and started rummaging in the drawers. Angus put his hand on her wrist before she could pull out a hefty knife. He twisted the knife away from her while she stared at him in surprise.

  “How am I supposed to cut up my tomato?”

  “I’ll do it.” He pointed at a chair with the tip of the knife. “You sit.”

  “Let a hot guy make dinner for me? Sure thing.” Tamsin sauntered to the table and sat down, leaning back in the wooden chair to cross her ankles.

  Angus had to turn away from her to start laying out the bread for sandwiches, but Ben had followed them in and now seated himself at the table with her.

  Angus had felt Tamsin shaking when he’d taken the knife from her. He suspected that was not only from the pain of her injury, but exhaustion and probably hunger. She had the pinched look of a person who hadn’t had a full meal in a while.

  “Don’t let her get up and run around,” Angus told Ben. “She’s hurt more than she lets on. Zander on his way?”

  “Yep,” Ben said. “He’s not happy about it, but he contacted Marlo, and Zander will be here soon.” Marlo was a private cargo pilot who covertly flew Shifters around the country. “I told Zander it was your fault—I was just the messenger. Why are you talking about Tamsin like she’s not in the room?”

  Angus only growled.

  “I’m a rogue Shifter,” Tamsin said to Ben. “We aren’t real people to the Collareds.”

  Angus stifled a grunt of impatience. Why couldn’t she be the sullen, crazed, evil woman he’d pictured? He could have dealt with that—he’d have had her tranqued and trussed up in the back of the station wagon and already on his way to the bizarre location where Haider wanted to make the exchange. Haider had told Angus where to meet him with a smirk on his face—glad the man was so amused.

  Instead, Tamsin was funny, brave, resourceful, and in serious trouble. Why else would she be running around alone, playing poker for cash when she hadn’t eaten in a while? Now that Angus had her trapped, with her hurt, she acted as if she’d only hit a temporary setback.

  Angus had to admire her guts, but he didn’t have a choice other than to turn her in. If Ciaran weren’t involved, he’d be more than tempted to help her get away—hell, he’d have done it by now.

  But Ciaran was the stakes, and Angus would wrestle down the Goddess herself to win him back.

  Tamsin continued to chatter to Ben, asking him about himself, while Angus made sandwiches with the meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato, onions, and condiments Jazz always made sure were on hand.

  This house had become a refuge for Shifters needing to get away from the confines of Shiftertowns for a while. Shifters like Angus weren’t supposed to leave the state they lived in without permission, which they had to apply for well in advance. Couldn’t have Shifters running around where they pleased, in case they all turned violent and ate the entire population of humans, could they? Why Shifters would want to do such a thing, Angus didn’t know, but old fears died hard.

  Humans didn’t come to this house, except on planned tours through a tour company, because the house was haunted. Or at least it was very good at giving that impression.

  Angus wasn’t sure how much he believed in the house’s powers, but he’d seen a lot of weird things happen inside it. Doors leading to other worlds, things moving around on their own, the doors locking and unlocking at the house’s whim. Downstairs, he’d asked the house to keep Tamsin inside, and the house had complied. Because it wanted to, Angus knew. When it decided to let Tamsin out, there was nothing he’d be able to do about it.

  “A gnome,” Tamsin was saying behind him. “How cool is that. Hey, Angus, did you know Ben was a gnome?”

  “Or a goblin,” Ben said. “But those are human terms. We don’t call ourselves either one.”

  “Yeah??
?? Tamsin asked in curiosity. “What do you call yourselves?”

  “Well, there’s only one of me that I know of now, but the name for our people is Ghallareknoiksnlealous.”

  “Oh.” Tamsin went silent as Angus sliced the sandwiches and put them on plates. “How about we stick with goblin?”

  Ben chuckled. “Probably for the best.”

  “Why is there only one of you?”

  Angus carried plates to the table, setting one each in front of Tamsin and Ben before going back to fetch his. Tamsin didn’t look at the sandwich Angus brought her—she kept her gaze on Ben, waiting for his answer.

  “Fae killed them all.” Ben picked up his thick sandwich filled with roast beef, ham, and cheese, dripping with mayo. “Or as good as.”

  Tamsin stared at him, openmouthed. Ben didn’t notice, focusing on his sandwich.

  Tamsin glanced at Angus as he sat down, and he gave his head the slightest shake. Ben might pretend to be blasé about the Fae slaughtering his people and then exiling the few that remained to the human world—Ben had told him the story one day—but he lived in boiling fury about it. Had for about a thousand years now.

  Tamsin shot Ben a look of sympathy that he didn’t see and took up her sandwich with her unhurt hand. Her other hand lay curled on her chest, the bandage stark against her cotton shirt.

  Tamsin closed her eyes as she chewed the first bite of her sandwich, letting out a tiny sigh of relief. Angus had been right—she was hungry, terribly so, which wasn’t going to help her injury.

  What the hell was she doing running around half-starved and evading Shifter Bureau? What had she done that they wanted her so much? Haider said he thought she killed the Shifter Bureau agents, but Tamsin’s small paws couldn’t have made the large claw marks on the men in the gruesome photos Haider had insisted on showing Angus.

  Angus’s resolve to simply hand Tamsin over and not get involved was crumbling. That was his problem—he had the habit of getting involved. He wanted to help people and keep them safe, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  Meanwhile, Tamsin was enjoying the hell out of her sandwich. She took another bite, eyes closed again as she savored the meat and bread, lettuce and tomato. She chewed slowly, sitting back in her chair, a look of rapture on her face as though the simple meal were ambrosia.

  “Mmm.” She made the sound long and sensual. Tamsin swallowed, opened her eyes, and bathed Angus in a warm smile. “Been a while since I was able to sit down and eat. You have talent. Ever thought about being a cook?”

  Her eyes were so full of mischief Angus wanted to grin back at her.

  He resisted. She was playing him, trying to get him to trust her. The minute he did that, she’d be gone, leaving Angus wondering what the hell happened, and Ciaran at Haider’s mercy.

  “No,” he snapped.

  Tamsin ate slowly, bite by bite, as though determined to enjoy every ounce of her food. When she finished, she tilted her head back and sucked the last drops of mayo from the tips of her fingers.

  “Wow,” she said softly. “That was good.”

  Ben snorted a laugh. “Save it, sweetheart. I’m too old, and Angus is unseducible. He’s a bouncer in a New Orleans club. Scantily clad women try to get on his good side every night, the poor guy.”

  “A bouncer?” Tamsin opened her eyes and looked at Angus in surprise. “I thought you were with Shifter Bureau.”

  “No,” Angus said in a hard voice. “I don’t work for those dickheads.”

  “Except tonight.” Tamsin leaned toward him, her red hair falling forward. “Why are you working for them tonight?”

  “Because an annoying woman is causing trouble,” Angus returned. He stood up, gathering the empty plates, and stamped with them to the sink.

  “Touchy, touchy. Struck a nerve, didn’t I, Ben?”

  “Yeah, Angus, I think we need to know what this is all about,” Ben said. “She doesn’t look like a dangerous criminal. And you hate Shifter Bureau. So why are you at odds instead of working together? Talk, both of you.”

  Angus clattered the dishes into the sink. “No offense, Ben, but this is none of your business.”

  “Everything is my business. I’m everyone’s friend, me. Plus I have some useful abilities. Why are you running from Shifter Bureau, Tamsin?”

  “Well,” Tamsin said, “I was born in the shack of a rogue Shifter and have been stealing and conning my way across the country since I was three. I’m wanted in twenty-seven states for so many offenses I forget them all. I stay one step ahead of the law with my cunning, and all the cops let me go because I’m a sweet-talker.”

  “And all of that is a big fat lie,” Ben said. “I’m as good at detecting them as Shifters.”

  “I’ll bet it isn’t all a lie,” Angus said, watching Tamsin. “But I don’t care. We’ll get you healed up, and then I’m done with you.”

  Tamsin’s face paled, though she tried to hide her nervousness. “Aw, and I was starting to have a big crush on you.”

  “You need to rest.” Angus returned to the table. “There are plenty of bedrooms to lock you in.”

  He wrapped his hand around Tamsin’s shoulder and hauled her to her feet.

  She stood up readily. “Oh, sweetie, and we only just met.”

  “You know, you are really starting to grate on me,” Angus said with a growl. “If you want to save your ass so much, you’ll shut up.”

  The look Tamsin shot him was full of fear but also calculation. Her chatter and silliness hid the fact that behind her eyes, she was gauging the situation and running through many plans to get out of it.

  Angus needed to hand her over to Shifter Bureau as soon as possible, before he started to help her do just that.

  * * *

  • • •

  Tamsin woke hours later, stiff and sore in spite of the soft bed. Her chewed-up arm hurt like hell, but she had to admit the sleep had done her good. Her edge of exhaustion had gone, and the sandwich, first solid meal she’d had in a while, had restored some of her energy.

  The faint gray of false dawn touched the window. Tamsin sat up, dragging her hair back from her face. She hadn’t meant to sleep so hard, or even fall asleep at all.

  After Angus had shoved her into this bedroom and slammed the door, locking it, she’d searched for any possible exit. The closed window would not budge. Any attempt to break the glass had failed—it was damned good glass. She picked open the door’s lock with a hairpin she’d found in the dresser drawer, but the door refused to open. No fireplace in this room, so no chimney, and she couldn’t find a secret passage anywhere. What self-respecting old house didn’t have a secret passage?

  Tired, Tamsin had lain down on the bed to rest before she tried again. The wind outside had been soothing, whispering through the wind chimes, and she’d fallen asleep before she could stop herself.

  A key scraped in the lock, and Angus opened the door.

  He did so cautiously, as though expecting Tamsin to be waiting behind the door with a cosh, and looked surprised to find her blinking at him from the bed.

  “The healer is here,” Angus said abruptly. “Come on.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tamsin rolled to sit on the side of the bed and groaned. Her hand was on fire, her arm too stiff to bend. The gauze and bandage grated on her torn-up skin.

  “What kind of healer won’t come to a patient’s bed?” She struggled to stand, and stumbled, a moan dragging from her throat.

  Angus was next to her in an instant, his arm around her waist, his warm strength keeping her from falling.

  Tamsin considered collapsing against him, letting him hold her up, giving in to her need to forget all this and be normal. Have friends, a mate . . . cubs. The wanting for that suddenly rose up and nearly choked her.

  But normal meant living in a Shiftertown with a Collar around her throat,
her cubs captives, her movements restricted. Her own mother lived in a Shiftertown near the Canadian border, and Tamsin was rarely able to communicate with her, hadn’t seen her now for five years. Their last encounter had been covert and heartbreakingly brief, and they hadn’t been able to meet since. Tamsin’s sister was long dead, killed by a Shifter hunter twenty years ago when un-Collared Shifters had been fair game for hunters. There had been no penalty then for killing an un-Collared Shifter; in fact, it had been encouraged.

  Angus, on the other hand, had chosen to live in captivity and round up Shifters like Tamsin.

  He’d showered sometime while she’d been asleep, and his skin smelled of soap, his black hair damp. He’d trimmed his beard, which brushed his jaw and chin without hiding it. This close she could see the tiny lines around his eyes, and the glittering gray of those eyes, clear and now full of concern.

  A bouncer, Ben had said. Angus had the strength and the bulk for that job, but also the caring. Bouncers were protectors—they kept out the troublemakers and expelled those endangering others.

  Tamsin felt hard muscles through his T-shirt, and she’d seen plenty of them when they’d run around the woods. He was clean, solid, and steady—attractive. Tamsin, on the other hand, was hurt, smelly, and disheveled, and she wouldn’t say no to a bath. Foxes weren’t quite as fastidious as cats, but they came close.

  “You all right?” Angus asked her, his voice vibrating through her.

  Damn it, don’t let him make me believe he cares. He’s healing me, so I don’t croak before he gets me to Shifter Bureau.

  “Hmm.” Tamsin pretended to consider. “I’m being held prisoner in a weird house with a wolf and a goblin, an alligator tried to eat me, and you’re going to drag me to Shifter Bureau. I’d say the answer is no, I’m not all right.”

  She held herself rigid to keep tears from coming. That was all she needed—to break down into a blubbering fool in front of her captor. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.