Mate Bond

  Kenzie made for Bowman and Ryan, who watched her, still smiling. Brigid caught her with strong hands and jerked her back.

  Kenzie snapped around with a snarl. “Let go of me!”

  “It’s a trick,” Brigid said, her face rigid. “They aren’t really there.”

  Kenzie swung away from her. The mists had thinned again, but her mate and cub had vanished.

  “I saw them,” she said, anguished. “What happened? Did the way close? Why did you stop me?”

  “They were never there,” Brigid said. “It’s a glamour. Giving you your fondest wish. When I first came in, I saw my sisters and my daughters, calling to me. They held out their hands, imploring me to come to them. When I drew closer, the mists boiled up, and I swear the ground tried to suck me down. I extracted myself with difficulty and ran back here. I’ve seen the images many times, but it is a trap. You must resist.”

  “Damn it!” Kenzie spun on her feet and brought her fists down. “I hate just sitting here. Why doesn’t he do something?”

  “He will come for us,” Brigid said. “He is greedy, and he wants what I can do for him too much to stay away.”

  “Greedy? For money? Or . . .”

  “Power, it seems. Position. He is gambling all to raise himself.”

  “I’ll raise him,” Kenzie growled. “And then throw him back down.”

  “Ah, Shifters,” Brigid said, as Kenzie settled herself on the cloak again. “Always so violent. I believe I will like that about you.”

  * * *

  Bowman had reached out to his contacts before, and he reached out again. Eric was in the process of sending one of his trackers to North Carolina, but it was always difficult to transport Shifters, as they couldn’t travel from state to state without permission. They had to move covertly, and that took time to set up. Las Vegas was on the other side of the country, Austin eleven hundred miles away, so the process was slow.

  Bowman called Eric in Las Vegas first for a reason. “Get that dark Fae you have—Reid, that’s his name—to answer some questions,” Bowman said, after he explained the situation.

  The next thing he knew, the phone was pulled from Eric, and a woman’s voice came to him. “Bowman? You all right?”

  The smooth tones belonged to Iona, Eric’s mate, a half human, half Shifter. She and Kenzie had met last year when Eric had paid a brief visit to Bowman to discuss Shifter business. The two women, though one a Feline and the other Lupine, had bonded. They had a common fate—being mated to pain-in-the-ass alpha males—or so they said.

  “Kenzie’s smart,” said Iona, a woman who wasn’t lacking in brains herself. “She’s resourceful. She’ll figure out how to get back to you.”

  “And I’ll figure out how to get to her,” Bowman said. “We’ll meet halfway.”

  “What about Ryan?” Iona asked. “How is he?”

  Over her words, Bowman heard the soft gurgle of a cub Iona and Eric had brought in a few months ago, a boy they’d called Callum. Callum was already tough, Eric had boasted when he’d last spoken with Bowman, a blue-eyed leopard like the rest of the family. Shifters with human blood were usually born human, not changing into their animal form until age three or so. Callum, though born in human form, had shifted into a leopard within a month. Eric was very proud.

  “Ryan’s fine,” Bowman snapped. Never let another Shifter know your offspring might be weak, was Shifter reflex. In this case, Bowman wasn’t lying. Ryan was being stouthearted, refusing to crumple.

  “Make sure you don’t keep him in the dark,” Iona said. “I know you’ll want to protect him, but let him reassure you. He’s stronger than you know.”

  “Yeah,” Bowman said. “Thanks.”

  “Hang in there, Bowman,” Iona said. “Trust Ryan.”

  “I will,” Bowman said, his heart tight.

  Iona gave the phone back to Eric. “I’ll give you Reid if you think you’ll need him,” Eric said. “And Graham. They’re two of my best. Might take a bit of doing.” Eric meant he’d have to contact the man who flew his Shifters where they needed to go, but didn’t want to say so on the phone. Eric chuckled. “Graham definitely.”

  Graham hated to fly. Eric liked to send him places in the cargo plane because of this, part of Eric’s battle of wills with Graham, the head Lupine in his Shiftertown.

  “Thanks,” Bowman said. “Keep in touch.”

  He put down the phone and turned to find Cristian two feet away. “This Eric will send help?” Cristian asked.

  Bowman nodded, his neck stiff. “Some. An expert on Faerie. I’ve met the guy. He’s weird, but he knows a lot.”

  “Good. Let them get on with what they do. And we will get on with what we do. Which is find out everything we can, by interrogation when necessary.”

  Bowman scowled at him. “Turner’s mine.”

  Cristian studied him for a moment, then gave him a nod. “Yours first. Then I want a go at him. If he is still alive after you are finished.”

  Bowman said nothing, only pushed past Cristian—who moved before Bowman could touch him—and out of the house. For once, he and the crazy Romanian Lupine agreed on one thing: Get Kenzie back, by any means necessary.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The mists rolled in and rolled back again. When they cleared, Turner was standing a few yards away.

  Kenzie was on her feet, shifting as she rose. She landed in her wolf form and charged, intent on killing her enemy. Turner watched her come without worry and held up his hand.

  Kenzie hit him full force, and they went down in a tangle. Her Collar went off at the same time as the Taser in his hand.

  A cross between a yelp and a scream left Kenzie’s throat. Pain flashed around her neck and down her spine, then through every nerve in her body. Her fur crackled, her eyes burned, and a high-pitched eeeeeeeeeeee tore through her ears.

  She managed to roll away and landed on her belly a few feet away, panting hard, her Collar shocking her. Turner climbed to his feet, still holding the Taser.

  Brigid hadn’t moved. Not because she didn’t want to, Kenzie realized, but because she couldn’t. She must be under the influence of the spell she’d told Kenzie about. Brigid struggled to take a step, her booted foot inching in the dirt and then stopping. Her dark eyes burned with frustration and hatred.

  “You know you can’t touch me,” Turner said to Brigid, sounding far too calm. “I learned a trick from a half Fae,” he told Kenzie. “I have taken some of her blood”—he nodded at Brigid—“which I used in a binding spell. I have some of yours now, and some of your fur.” He held up his hand, showing Kenzie a tuft of wolf hair between his fingertips. “Thank you. Though Tasers coupled with Collars are excellent at stopping Shifters.”

  Kenzie snarled. She longed to leap up and tear his face off, but the double shock had robbed her of strength. Her Collar continued to snap curls of electricity through her—it knew her aggression and wanted to stop her. She’d arrogantly told Bowman she’d be among the last to have her Collar removed, taking the pain so others could be freed first. Way to go, Kenzie.

  Turner waved a hand at her. “Shift back. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

  “Don’t,” Brigid said. Her voice was strained, teeth clenched.

  Kenzie had no intention of shifting, but she felt her fur receding, her limbs changing shape against her wishes. That scared her more than anything.

  Kenzie came to her feet, naked and breathing hard. She had enough strength of will to snatch up Brigid’s cloak from the ground and wrap it around her. She never minded being nude after shifting in front of male Shifters, but the way Turner gazed at her with frank interest made her skin crawl. Kenzie pulled the cloak around her, finding it surprisingly warm for fabric so thin.

  “You have no need to be afraid of me, Kenzie,” Turner said, his blue eyes innocent behind his glasses. “My work can benefit you. Can benefit everyone, really. The Fae were trying to make a race of skilled fighters to conquer their enemies, and it worke
d. It cut their casualty rates in half. Think what a contribution you can make to national security.”

  Kenzie struggled to speak. Her Collar had calmed down, but the pain remained. “Fae casualties were cut in half, you mean. Shifters still died. Now you want Shifters for national security? Like joining the military and so forth? We tried. They won’t let us.”

  Turner shook his head. “Not Shifters necessarily. Beasts stronger than Shifters, which the military can control. I am very close to making a breakthrough.”

  “You mean that poor thing you let loose near the roadhouse? It was strong, sure, but didn’t last very long.”

  Turner roved his cold gaze over her. “That ‘poor thing’ nearly killed you all. I was conducting an experiment that night, admittedly, to see how well my creation stood up to the fighting prowess of Shifters. You handled yourself very well, I was pleased to see.”

  “You were there?” Kenzie adjusted the cloak. She and Bowman had been climbing each other just before the thing attacked. The thought that he’d been watching was repulsive. “I thought you hired a lackey to drive the truck.”

  “I did. I can’t drive a rig. But I rode along, and yes, I watched.” His smile made her know he’d seen everything she and Bowman had done. “I wanted to see how my baby performed. Doesn’t a mother wish to watch her child’s first steps?”

  Brigid threw him a look of haughty disgust. “You do not know the first thing about being a mother.”

  “Yes, women can be so superior about children,” Turner said. “My mother never was—if she had been, maybe my father would have been nicer to her. Not that I knew anything about that until after he died. My father was a complete bastard.”

  Kenzie had little interest in Turner’s family and problems at the moment. “Why the hell am I here?” she asked.

  “You being here is not my doing. I have found a way to stabilize this gate, yes, but you blundered into it all on your own, chasing that cop. The mists opened to you, so they must have wanted you here, for whatever reason. The gates can be very powerful. But I am glad to see you. Brigid I trapped on purpose. She has the equivalent of what we would call a doctorate in genetics. She’s amazing. You are a strong Shifter, an alpha female. Your DNA will be of great use to me.”

  Turner’s words indicated he knew nothing about Gil not being a human cop. Interesting. “If you already have my blood and fur, you have my DNA,” Kenzie said. “I’d like to know how to get out of this place, whatever it is.”

  “It’s a world out of time,” Turner said. “Or something like that. I’m not sure. It’s a different plane of existence anyway. I haven’t explored it much—I only know how to access it. A good place to keep you and Brigid—much better than a cage or a locked room, and much harder for anyone but me to find.”

  “I found it,” Kenzie said. “That means my mate or my friends could find it too.”

  “No, you chanced upon it. That cop is very interested in you, Kenzie, in a sexual way, I’d say. You know, it was once thought that Shifters and humans couldn’t produce viable offspring, but that idea has been proved wrong many times in the last twenty years. A professor from Chicago presented a paper on it at the last symposium I attended.”

  “Shifters don’t exist for your entertainment,” Kenzie said irritably.

  “Ah, but you know, entertainment was another reason they were first created. To fight and hunt, yes, but also to perform tricks—Fae would boast to each other how clever their Shifters were. Fae also used them as sex partners, sometimes in their animal forms, if they had such a fetish.”

  Kenzie hoped to the Goddess Turner didn’t. But he spoke with only clinical interest, a curious side note he’d found during his studies.

  “Such a thing might be strange to you and me,” Turner went on, “but Fae are almost as fascinating to me as Shifters. Not quite.” He sent a smile to Brigid that looked apologetic. “I didn’t even know of their existence until after I figured out that Shifters were real. Even though my first findings were scorned, I continued hunting for evidence of Shifters. Found other places with similar stories to the ones in Ireland and traveled to them. During my journeys I met a man—I thought he was a man at the time—who believed me about the magical shape-shifting people. He promised to show me more. He took me to Morocco, in the Atlas mountains, up to where a small pack of wolves lived. There were two mated pairs, a few cubs, and an older male who was the obvious leader.”

  He relaxed his stance, warming to his story. “We hid and watched as they milled around, doing whatever social things wolves do, then, before my eyes, the older leader suddenly turned into a man. I couldn’t believe it. All this time—I’d been right. I missed the actual transition, I was so amazed, but I photographed the Shifter man talking to the other wolves, being nuzzled by them, acting as one of them.

  “This fellow who’d brought me up there at last revealed that he was half Fae. He helped me. He taught me much about Shifters, and also about the Fae and their magic. He gave me talismans and showed me how to move through the mists. He has passed on now, sadly, but I believe his son is helping humans understand and control Shifters. I’ve learned so much since that day in the mountains, and at last, I am being recognized for my expertise on Shifters. I’m up for full professorship, finally, after all these years. This last research is going to make me famous.”

  He paused for breath, and Kenzie asked cautiously, “What research?”

  “The creation of Shifters. For human purposes. How wonderful to have an army of the beasts at our fingertips. We could breed select soldiers with them to produce the best of both, half Shifters with human savvy as well as Shifter strength.”

  “That’s already been tried,” Kenzie pointed out. “In Area 51, years ago. It didn’t work.”

  Turner nodded. “Yes, I know. I even helped start up that project, but they were on the wrong track, and I left. They were attempting to create Shifters by scientific means alone, breeding them in petri dishes.” He made a noise of disgust. “Of course it didn’t work. They were missing the ingredient they didn’t believe in: magic. More specifically, good old-fashioned Fae magic from the dawn of time.”

  “Hardly the dawn of time,” Brigid broke in. “Humans had already created far-flung military empires in the places you call Rome and China by the time we perfected the spells and techniques to produce the battle beasts.”

  “What you’re doing won’t work either,” Kenzie said to Turner. “Unless that half Fae taught you the magic.”

  Turner gave her a chill smile. “He did. It is difficult for me to work it myself, but then I caught a Fae. She is quite good at it.”

  Brigid remained stiff with scorn. “I have no choice but to help him,” she told Kenzie. “Though I would rather lay out his guts and bathe in his blood.”

  Kenzie would rather she did too. “So you’re trying to create mythical monsters in order to get a promotion at work?” she asked.

  “What an amusing way of putting it,” Turner said, his eyes like cold glass. “The large beasts are proving to be difficult to control and physiologically unstable. I’ve been trying to find a true Shifter for my breeding program, but Shifters protect themselves and their cubs so rigidly you’re difficult to get near. But now, a Shifter has tumbled into the mists, and I have her.”

  Kenzie shivered, but she forced herself to remain stoic. “One female?” she asked, lifting a brow. “Maybe not a fertile one at that. I’ve only managed to bring in one cub in many years of trying. And believe me, Bowman and I have been trying.”

  “I know you have,” Turner said. “You and your mate are a fascinating study in Shifter fertility. I am pleased to have the opportunity to study you further. In fact, I will go report to O’Donnell that his mate is well and in my care.”

  Something flashed in his hand, and the mists thickened around him.

  Kenzie found herself released from her near paralysis, and rushed him. She could move fast, but she managed only to grab a corner of his padded jacket befo
re he vanished. A bit of cloth tore off in her fingers, but Turner was gone.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Bowman finished tearing the last floorboard out of Turner’s trailer. He’d found nothing there—at least, nothing that told him where Kenzie was.

  He and Cristian had rejoined Cade and Jamie here to continue the search for Turner and what he was up to. Between them they’d found plenty of papers and materials on Shifters, which Cristian thought fascinating and Bowman tossed aside. He didn’t give a crap about Turner’s opinions on the innate maternal instincts in Shifter females. He was interested in only one Shifter female—Kenzie.

  “He has a unique mind,” Cristian said, scanning a printed-out page. “A brilliant man, in fact, if one looks at it a certain way. He could be useful to us.”

  Bowman yanked the paper out of Cristian’s hands and let it flutter to the floor. “Pay attention. We need to find Kenzie.”

  Cristian regarded him calmly. “By studying our enemy, we learn more about him; enough to destroy him. This is what he has done with Shifters, apparently, for many years. Not a man to be underestimated.”

  Bowman knew that Cristian had a point, but right now he wanted only to find Kenzie, and kill anyone who got in his way.

  A shout came from outside—Cade. It was nearing dawn, the sky a faint gray. Bowman could see Cade in the clearing, yelling something into the woods.

  Bowman pushed past Cristian and headed outside. Jamie, in his cheetah form, came leaping out from the shadows under the trees, his fur on end.

  “Something going on out there,” Cade said, gesturing to where Jamie had emerged, in the direction of one of the sheds. “Not sure what.”

  Jamie shifted to human, breathing hard, his eyes wide. “Stinks,” he said, his voice tinged with the yowl of a spooked cheetah. “It got super cold all of a sudden, and darker. Nasty.”

  “Did you smell another of those beasts?” Cristian asked, coming up behind Bowman.

  Cristian spoke matter-of-factly, but a chill washed over Bowman. The first monster had been almost impossible to beat, and he’d had half of Shiftertown to help him.