Mate Bond Read online

  Bowman faced her. “I’ll have the evidence when I beat it out of him.” His eyes were crystalline in the morning light, white gray and unyielding. “I’m not going to rush in and kill him, Kenz. I’ll ask him first.”

  “He’s not a pushover. He’ll use any excuse to topple you.”

  Bowman’s eyes went whiter still. “You think he can beat me?”

  “I think he’s treacherous enough to find a way.”

  Bowman held her gaze, his fury burning her. She wanted to latch on to him, tell him to stay home and be safe, to wrap her arms around him and hold him close.

  “Come with me then,” Bowman said. “Keep an eye on your uncle for me while I’m beating the crap out of him.”

  Before Kenzie could answer, Ryan got up and came to them. He was half his father’s height now, and while he was still on the slim side, he had plenty of wiry strength.

  “You need me to come with you too,” Ryan declared. “Before you yell at me and say no, you know it’s true. I can butter up Uncle Cristian to tell us what he knows. I’m not only his bloodline—I’m also a very cute little cub.”

  Cade roared a sudden laugh that rattled the pots hanging in the kitchen, and Jamie chuckled. “He’s got you there, Bowman,” Cade said in his booming voice. “Kid, you’re going to make one hell of a pack leader someday.”

  Bowman agreed, Kenzie could tell. He cast his glare all around, but Kenzie saw the flash of pride in his eyes before he slammed out of the house. Kenzie and Ryan snatched their coats from the hooks in the hall and followed.

  * * *

  Cristian Dimitru made his accent extra thick as he faced Bowman. “What you saying? I make . . . what? Griffin—what does this mean?”

  Asshole, Bowman growled to himself. Cristian, the shithead, spoke perfect English. But he liked to mess with Bowman, especially when he didn’t want to answer questions.

  “It’s a cool animal from mythology, Uncle Cris,” Ryan said. He sounded more childlike than usual, and Bowman narrowed his eyes. Ryan’s cunning came directly from his Dimitru blood. “Dad would only let me see a photo of it, but it was humongous.”

  Cristian’s gaze sharpened as he looked at Bowman. “You let your cub see it?”

  Kenzie broke in smoothly. “He deserves to know about any threat to Shifters.” She was tense, Bowman saw, though she stood easily and looked Cristian in the eye.

  “Show it to me,” Cristian said.

  Kenzie put her hand into her coat pocket and removed the photos she’d printed. Gil had e-mailed them to Bowman as promised, the e-mails arriving as Jamie cooked, and Kenzie had printed them out. She didn’t have any photo paper, only plain, so they were gray scale and not very good. But there was enough detail to prove the creature had existed.

  Cristian flipped through them. “Where is this thing now?” His accent had mostly gone.

  “On a pyre,” Bowman answered. “Ready to be sent to the Goddess.”

  “I want to see it first.”

  “Why?” Bowman resisted jerking the pages out of Cristian’s hands. “So you can make sure it’s dead? Make sure I can never tie it to you?”

  Cristian gave him an annoyed look. “I’m flattered you think me skilled enough to breed a mythological beast. Do you have any other theories, or did you decide I alone should take the blame for it?”

  Bowman didn’t answer. He had plenty of ideas about the beast spinning through his head. Cristian breeding it, or causing it to be bred, or knowing who had done it, was only one. He’d come here to cross this theory off his list and move on to the next idea. Or use it as an excuse to kill Cristian. Whatever.

  “If I look at it, maybe I can tell where it came from,” Cristian said. “It isn’t Fae?”

  “No smell of Faerie,” Bowman said. Anything from Faerie had a distinctive odor—a hint of sulfur and otherworldly fire. The griffin had only smelled like a very large, very stinky, very dead animal.

  Cristian handed the photos back to Kenzie. “The thing about griffins,” he said to Bowman, “the thing you might not know about, is they always come in pairs. They mate for life, so it is said. So the question is, O’Donnell—where is the other one?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kenzie did not want Ryan coming with them to the site, but Bowman decided he could, to his son’s delight. Ryan needed to know the bad and the ugly about being Shifter leader, needed to understand the responsibilities, even when they weren’t pretty.

  They took Cristian’s car, but Kenzie drove. Best thing. Bowman didn’t trust Cristian not to try to wreck the car and make sure Bowman was in the part that smashed, maybe letting Ryan be badly hurt too. Then Cristian could pretend he was helping Ryan heal, maybe adopting him to raise him in Bowman’s place.

  Then again, Bowman didn’t trust himself not to give the car a burst of speed along a lonely stretch of highway and push Cristian out the door. Kenzie driving was the best solution.

  They arrived at the creature’s final resting place within the hour. Branches had been piled around the dead beast, the underbrush cleared, so they could burn the thing without torching the entire woods. From somewhere—the Goddess knew where—Cade had driven in a water truck, ready to pump water over the fire when it was done. Cade had many human friends, and he somehow got them to do him all kinds of favors.

  Cristian scrambled down to the pyre, put his hands on his hips, and gazed at the beast. It looked pathetic now, waiting to be sent to the Goddess and the Summerland, but Bowman remembered all its tonnage charging at him, ready to kill.

  “How did it die?” Cristian asked. “You killed it?” He shot a look at Bowman.

  “We don’t know,” Kenzie said, before Bowman could take credit. “We hurt it, and it might have died of its injuries.”

  “Or its master might have put it down,” Cristian said. “Maybe up in the arena, and it made it this far before it died.”

  “Why didn’t its master chase it, then?” Bowman asked. “Or get rid of the body?”

  Cristian shrugged. “Who knows? Have you found the driver of the truck?”

  “Working on it,” Bowman snapped. He hated how Cristian could stand around and do nothing, and at the same time imply that Bowman was slow and incompetent. Undermining him at every turn.

  “I would question him,” Cristian finished.

  “Well, no shit,” Bowman said, resisting the urge to punch him. One day he wouldn’t resist, and that would feel good.

  Cade had started a small fire with tinder at one end of the pile. At Bowman’s nod, he fanned it to life, and a flame went up.

  At first, the fire only crackled a little, but then the pyre caught. The fire zoomed around the tinder, staying confined, and caught the body.

  Shifters were adept at building funeral pyres. They never buried one of their own; Shifter souls were released to the Summerland by the Guardian. Every Guardian had a sword that had been made centuries before by a Shifter swordsmith and his Fae mate. The two of them had woven spells into the swords so that, when the blade was thrust through the heart of a dying or dead Shifter, the spells released the soul and rendered the body dust.

  The swords had passed down through the generations, one for each clan. In the old days, however, whenever the clan’s Guardian was too far away, Shifters had burned their dead, which in theory also allowed the soul to reach the Summerland.

  A Shifter soul lingering near its body was susceptible to capture, so the legends went, and torment. No Shifter wanted that for his father, mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, best friend, pack mate. Even this ferocious beast didn’t deserve that. The Guardian was present today, but where the thing’s heart was, and whether the sword would work on it, was anybody’s guess. The fire would have to do.

  The Shifters stepped back as the pyre burned, ceasing their shouting, growling, snarling, and talking. Even Cristian became quiet.

  Bowman stepped close to Kenzie. They gathered Ryan against them, the fire warming the frigid air. Bowman heard Kenzie’s whispered
prayer to the Goddess as the flames consumed the beast.

  He liked the feeling of Kenzie’s shoulder against his, her strength answering his strength. Bowman was still weak after the fight and his broken leg—not that he’d admit it—but Kenzie being next to him made all the difference.

  The fire burned a long time, but the Shifters watched. The beast had been their enemy, but it had been out of place in this world, like the Shifters, and the least they could do was send it off with respect.

  “Dad,” Ryan whispered, breaking the trance-like silence. “Who’s that?”

  He pointed. A woman stood well back from the ring of Shifters, watching them. She was covered with a bulky jacket and wore a knit hat, but Bowman recognized her. She was the pseudo-groupie who’d been at the roadhouse two nights ago, the one Bowman had scared off by daring her to go down on him.

  Bowman broke from Ryan and Kenzie and strode toward her. She saw him coming and, of course, tried to run.

  No human woman, especially not one hampered by a padded jacket and thick boots, could outrun Bowman. She had a head start, but he grabbed her at the top of the hill and barreled on with her until they reached the arena. Jamie had driven away the abandoned semitruck, hiding it in a place he said was safe. The arena was empty now, and Bowman swung the woman around in the middle of it.

  “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing spying on Shifters?”

  “I’m not spying,” she said, her voice shrill.

  “What else do you call following Shifters around and watching what they do?”

  Kenzie jogged into the arena, and after her, Goddess damn him, was Cristian.

  “I just like Shifters, all right?” the woman said, her fear breaking through her defiance.

  “You tried that one already,” Bowman snapped. “Didn’t work the last time.”

  She tried to wrench away from him. “Yeah, when you practically stripped in front of me.”

  “And if you’d been a groupie, you’d have had your hands on my cock so fast it wouldn’t have been funny. You failed that test.”

  “I didn’t touch you, because I knew you were mated.” The woman looked past him to Kenzie, now a few feet behind Bowman.

  “Bullshit,” he said. “Groupies don’t care. They just want the sex.”

  “All right. All right. So I’m not a groupie. Doesn’t matter. I have every right to be walking around these woods, and you have no right to stop me.”

  Bowman leaned close to her. The woman tried to look everywhere but at his eyes, but Bowman locked her gaze to his. “I’m leader of this Shiftertown. That means I deal with whatever threat I see to any Shifters in it. You, sweetheart, are a threat.”

  “What’s your name?” Kenzie asked her.

  Bowman felt the woman tighten. She wanted to glance at Kenzie, but she couldn’t look away from Bowman. “Answer her,” Bowman said.

  “Serena.” The woman swallowed. “I’m a reporter, like you said. I’m doing a piece—on Shifter groupies.”

  “She is lying,” Cristian said. “I scent it, and so do you.”

  Serena’s eyes widened. They were brown eyes, with a touch of green, her hair light brown under the cap. Her face was narrow, her nose sharp, and she wasn’t very old. Maybe early twenties, as humans figured things. Still a cub, by Shifter standards.

  “No, really,” Serena said quickly. “I am doing a piece on Shifters. On all aspects of Shifter life.”

  “Including following them into the woods to watch one of their religious rituals?” Bowman demanded.

  “Absolutely.” Serena grew more confident. “Plus, I saw what you were fighting that night. I drove off, but I came back, and saw . . . What was it?”

  “We don’t know,” Kenzie said before Cristian could volunteer any information. Not that he was about to. Cristian disliked humans even more than he disliked Bowman.

  Serena sniffled, her nose red and raw from the cold and smoke. “A Shifter? I couldn’t make it out, but it was big. One of the bears?”

  Her curiosity grated on Bowman’s nerves. The young woman could be a danger, or she might not be anything more than a college girl trying to write her way into her first job.

  “We don’t know,” Kenzie repeated. “Bowman.” Her voice held the gentling note that meant she knew Bowman was barely controlling himself. “Let her go.”

  “Only if she walks the hell out of here and doesn’t come back.” Bowman gave the woman a shake. “I don’t want to see you around Shifters anymore, sweetheart. It’s dangerous.”

  “For me?” Serena backed a step as Bowman released her. “Or for you?”

  Bowman growled at her. “Just go.”

  Serena backed a couple more steps then, apparently deciding not to test her luck, turned and ran. She made for one of the cars in the lot, sprang inside it, started it up, and drove off, churning mud in her haste.

  Down the hill, the fire burned, and flakes of pristine snow fluttered down to die with a hiss in the flames.

  * * *

  Kenzie waited with Ryan, catching snowflakes in their gloved hands, for Bowman to finish giving orders so she could take him and their son home.

  She was aware, even as she kept Ryan occupied, that all this was rattling her mate. Bowman didn’t like it when he didn’t know what was going on. Uncertainty made him hard and angry.

  She heard him barking orders, and the Shifters, knowing he was in a foul mood, simply said, “Yes, sir.” No arguing, no bantering.

  Bowman ordered a contingent of Shifters, including the Guardian—Pierce Daniels, a Feline Shifter—to remain and finish the cremation, including burying the ashes. Pierce was also ordered to use his resources as a Guardian to find out everything he could about the human woman named Serena. Cade and Jamie he put on investigating the truck and driver and figuring out where the hell that monster had originated.

  “Kenzie,” Bowman said, walking toward her, still in his hard-ass mode. “I want you to find out as much as you can about Gil Ramirez. Who he is, what he is, why he’s so interested in Shifters.”

  Gil had already explained his interest, sort of, but Kenzie understood. Something was off about Gil. “What do you mean what he is?” she asked. “He’s human. Isn’t he?”

  Bowman pinned her with a white gray stare. “I don’t like the way he smells.”

  Kenzie shot him a sly smile. “You can be pretty rank yourself.”

  Bowman didn’t smile back, her teasing bringing a hard glitter to his eyes. “You know what I mean. He’s more than what he’s saying. Get him to tell you.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Ryan made a huffing noise. “He means flirt with him, Mom. Make him trust you. Giggle at him if you have to. I’ve heard you do it when you’re trying to make Dad jealous.”

  Bowman put a hand on Ryan’s head. “That’s enough from you, cub. Don’t sass your mother.”

  “I’m not sassing. Everyone knows you and Mom are trying to find out if the other is going to run off first chance to find a mate bond with someone else. The whole Shiftertown knows it. I don’t know why you think it’s such a secret.”

  Ryan ducked out from under his father’s hand and ran off toward the arena, where Shifters were organizing the pumps on the water truck to hose down the floor.

  “Shit,” Bowman said, watching him go.

  “You can be kind of obvious,” Kenzie said. “Trying to see if I’ll care if you pay attention to other women. Like you did with Dr. Pat, and Serena in the roadhouse parking lot.”

  Bowman jerked his head around to focus on Kenzie, his face, which had been lined with exhaustion, becoming less tired-looking. “I knew you were out there. I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t been.”

  Kenzie remembered him sliding down his jeans, the parking lot lights outlining every perfect inch of him. “I know. That’s what I mean.”

  Bowman somehow was standing closer. “It wasn’t for her. It was for you.”

  Kenzie’s heart beat faster, her blood
heating until the cold around her faded. “You mean you wanted me to walk across that parking lot and go down on you?”

  Bowman’s hint of smile made her burn. “Wouldn’t have minded.”

  Kenzie was aware of him with every cell in her body. She pictured herself completing what she’d wanted to do that night, sliding down him until she was on her knees in front of his thighs. She’d look him over, then lean forward and take the length of his cock into her mouth. She knew exactly what he tasted like, and never grew tired of it.

  She wanted to do it right now. Here, in the freezing cold, with snow falling and Shifters striding every which way to carry out Bowman’s commands. She wanted to feel the hard ground beneath her knees, his heat warming her skin.

  The intense stillness in Bowman’s eyes told her he wanted it too. Their shared look smoldered the air between them.

  Each knew the other was imagining every second of Kenzie unbuckling Bowman’s jeans, Bowman’s fingers going slack as he let the waistband drop from them. He’d be backed against one of the cars, his jeans around his ankles, hand in Kenzie’s hair as she knelt.

  He’d fill her mouth, the taste of him hot and smooth, the tight skin of his thighs warm under her fingers. The hair curling at his balls would beckon her touch, and Bowman would make a faint sound of pleasure as he rocked into her mouth.

  Even now, as they stood face-to-face, Bowman’s hands closed into fists. His eyes softened with his fire, and his mouth lost its hard line.

  “Kenz,” he said in a low voice.

  Kenzie said nothing. She stood rigid, wanting him, while the snow fell around her, and Shifters swarmed about a little way from them. Her hands ached, and she realized she’d clenched them tightly.

  Bowman said her name again, or she thought he did. In the next second, he closed the space between them and brought his mouth down on hers.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The kiss burned, but Kenzie didn’t pull away. Bowman’s mouth was strong, mastering. His arms went around her, hands hard on her back. Kenzie sought him, scrabbling inside his coat to find his warmth. His sweatshirt stretched over his broad chest, outlining what she wanted to see, to touch.