She dragged her hands over him, pulling him down closer to feed the physical ache for him. She needed him. Needed his flavor in her mouth, the strength of his thighs against hers, his heartbeat thundering in her ears. More than anything else, she wanted his skin; warmed by the sun, scented from the grass and the earth, flavored with that special element that was Tate himself.
Fresh from the shift, her senses so raw, he went to her head like heated mercury. Her mind lost track of absolutely everything around them, only aware of him above her, the feel of him surrounding her mind, body and spirit. She reached for him instinctively, wanting to roll in his scent, wanting to connect to him in every way she could. Straining, she willed herself to find that signature Jade had mentioned. Nothing she could touch, nothing she could really control, but she reached for him all the same.
Then, suddenly, the connection was there. Like something snapping together, interlocking and throwing every sense she thought she had into full, mind-altering color. Instead of the hazy sense of him from before, this time she felt him down to her bones, as if he were the breath in her lungs and the blood in her veins. Buffeting her from all sides were emotions and impressions that tasted like Tate. His thoughts, his excitement, his pleasure.
She melted into delirium.
His mouth drifted from her lips to her jaw, licking at her neck, down over her breasts. Sharp teeth nipped her skin, making her gasp and tighten her legs around him. Heat surrounded them, ratcheting the desperation. She arched up, gasps turning to cries, when he drew her nipple into his mouth. All that time, his fingers stroked along her body, ribs to waist to hip and back again.
When he pressed her thigh aside, she let herself fall boneless and sighed when those rough fingers slid over her sex, seeking out the hard nub of her clit. He circled it, teasing her before settling his thumb over it and sinking his finger inside. Lia writhed beneath him, her entire body unable to decide where to focus. Those stroking fingers, that fluttering thumb, the hard draw of his mouth on first one nipple, then the other. Her claws broke free when a second finger joined his pistoning thrusts.
But it wasn’t enough.
She shoved at his shoulders, pushing him onto his back. He let her move him, his eyes sleepy and his mouth curved while she cuffed his wrists with her hands and pinned them over his head. Beneath her bottom, his erection felt like a brand against her skin. She rocked restlessly against him, sliding her slick folds over the steel length of it, shuddering from the sensation.
“Is this part of your equality campaign, because I think I like this argument.”
She leaned down to suck on his lip, her teeth rubbing side to side over the firm flesh in time with her hips over his cock. “Then you’re going to love this,” she panted, changing the angle of her movements so that he slid into her. Her breath turned to a hiss at the broad width of him stretching her walls.
His hands gripped her hips, slowing her descent. She could feel him savoring her, quaking at the feel of her claw tips sinking into his shoulders. His eyes flickered, the gray color she loved having shifted to the glowing yellow of his Wolf. She smiled, bucking against his hold.
“This time, I take you.” She pushed down, filling herself with him. He growled, drowning out her sigh. He squeezed tight, but she refused to be held back. She lifted up, rocking forward before sliding back down, savoring his groan against the beaded tips of her breasts. “I’m claiming you, Jensen Tate.”
Because you’re mine.
She hadn’t said the words, but as the slow smile spread across his handsome face, she knew he heard it.
“I love you, Lia.”
He levered himself up, joining his mouth to hers, letting her move as she would. His hands lifted to her hair, holding her head still for him to take control of the kiss. She let him, just as he let her. He stroked her mouth in time to the rhythm she used, but soon, the urgency took any grace away. She rode him hard, his upward thrusts more than meeting her, lifting her up just enough for her to bounce down again. His elbows dug into the soft earth, his head lolling back while he let her have her way with him. His skin, so gold, so sleek, made her fangs hurt. Conscious thought had long disappeared, she was a creature of Instinct now. Instinct that demanded she cement her claim to him.
Before she realized what she was doing, she’d sunk her teeth into the hard flesh of his shoulder. His growl could have been a roar or simply an echo in her mind, she didn’t know, but when his fangs found the matching spot on her own shoulder, her entire body shuddered under the onslaught of searing magic, doused in unimaginable pleasure. First it flared between them, almost like a blast of light she couldn’t see, but felt the warmth of, before it settled in her heart—a fiery but painless bond she knew she’d feel long past her own death.
Eyes still closed, her breath not nearly back to normal, limp body draped over his, she could feel him all the way down to her soul. A part of him, glowing warm and bright inside her. She’d always know if he was safe, if he was hurt, if he needed her. And she could feel his love, surrounding her, inside her, burning brighter with each passing second. She smiled against his shoulder, licking the wound absently. She should have known he’d be just as intense in the bond as he was beneath all the charm and the roles he played.
“You know you have to say it now, don’t you, Sunshine?” The near-growl rumbled through his chest to tickle her skin.
Her smile only grew. “Say what?”
“I can feel it, Lia. I feel you in my bones, like fire.”
She nodded against his neck, loathe to move but wanting to look him in the eyes again. She shifted position, little shocks of sensation lighting through her with even that small amount of movement. The faintest moan slipped through his lips too, earning him a soft kiss.
When he met her gaze, his eyes had mostly shifted back to human, the summer-storm gray flickering with lights of gold. The man and the Wolf, completely as one. Her man, her Wolf.
She pressed another kiss to his lips, this one lingering longer. This time, it was so much easier to will her feelings his way. But she knew he needed the words. Bond or not, she wasn’t going to keep anything from her mate that he needed.
“I love you too.”
He held her tighter, the part of him in her heart growing so warm she wished she was like Jade and could see it. But she didn’t need to be a Sibile to appreciate this gift, this joy, she never thought she’d have. This was a second chance.
This
was freedom.
“This plan was stupid,” Lia grumbled, chewing on her lip, looking all around for the three hundredth time in the last twenty minutes. She plucked at the ends of her hair, which only just touched her shoulders, and tried to still the swirling vortex in her stomach.
“This plan was safest for everyone,” Tate replied, calm as you please. His thumb, warm and rough, stopped her from responding when he used it to gently tug her bottom lip free. “We have to get you a new chew toy, Sunshine. That one’s mine.”
She gave him her best attempt at a smile but knew it was pathetic. “I can’t help it, Aurelia should have met us already.”
Once he’d explained his plans to begin his hunt with her past, their careful investigation had led them here. To the Iowa state fair, of all places. On the southern bench in front of the carousel.
“Stop worrying. They’re not late, they’re feeling us out.”
She wasn’t sure if her glare made it past the oversize sunglasses he’d bought her or even the baseball cap he’d plopped on her head to cover her short bobbed hair.
“Don’t look directly, but there’s a tall, swarthy guy over by the pretzel vendor. He’s been by us twice already. His scent is unmistakable. Next pass will probably be to tell us to follow him.” Tate slid his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. He wore his own set of sunglasses, but the heat of his gaze had no trouble penetrating
his
sunglasses as he looked her up and down. “Have I mentioned lately how much I like the way you’re dressed?”
Lia rolled her eyes. She wore a simple pair of jeans and a red V-neck shirt that left her arms bare in the late summer heat. Nothing to get excited about, but she knew her cheeks were giving away her true reaction to the compliment. “I’m not that easy to distract.”
His grin played xylophone with her hormones. “I am.”
Soooo not falling for that, tempting as it was. The flow of people increased as a voice suddenly came over the nearby loudspeakers. Someone was being introduced to cheers so loud her ears rang.
“Why are there so many people here anyway?” She eyed the crowd already pressing tight to the stage with more people pushing to get closer. They were going to swamp the carousel area soon.
“Whistle-stop,” Tate answered close to her ear. “That asshole Thompson is running for the presidency. Works in our favor, actually. We’ll talk to your nice old lady away from the crowds, right under everyone’s nose.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Her stomach clenched at being so close to any government official.
“Why do you think they chose this place? With this many people here, there’s a ton of scents to disguise ours. Anyone does anything suspicious, we just make a scene and the Secret Service swarms in.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“It also keeps us all in line. Secret Service gets wind a bunch of shifters are this close to a presidential candidate and we’ll all be wishing for a death squad. By the way, if you’d told me your granny lady was allied with Bears, this might have been easier to arrange.”
Lia almost responded that Aurelia didn’t know any Bears, but the voice speaking to the crowd finally sank into her subconscious. “…with the social and growing bouts of violence among humanity and shifters, now more than ever, this country needs a leader who is willing to find a middle ground and end the bloodletting…”
Her ear twitched, dread welling from nowhere in her belly, freezing her in place.
Tate picked up the change instantly. “Lia? Wh—”
She put her hand over Tate’s mouth, listening to the voice from the man on the stage. She knew that voice. Knew it.
Feared it.
But why? She turned, looking for the source, trying to understand the growing unease. On either side of the stage, a giant video screen showed a close-up of the stranger.
“I’m not only prepared to help this country heal its wounds…” the man said, his voice smooth, his handsome face smiling as he addressed the crowd.
Remember…
Lia’s legs began to quake at just the sight of the man on the screen. His black hair, touched with streaks of silver on the side. Not white, she thought, knowing that meant something. Not white.
Silver.
Debonair. Polished. A perfect politician.
His smile. She knew that smile.
Remember…
It didn’t reach his eyes. Dark eyes, black as night, glinted in the lights. No one else seemed to see his lack of emotion. The calculation. The cold-blooded maliciousness as he enjoyed their stupidity.
Humanity.
That was what he’d said to trigger her memory. Humanity.
The blurring veil of memory tore through.
“I know that man.”
“So does most of the country. I told you, he’s running for president.”
“No, I
remember
him. From when Asher first found me.”
Tate’s entire body stiffened against her. “What do you mean? He was there?”
She shook her head, all her will needed to keep from unsheathing her claws and rushing the stage. “When I came to. He’s the one who ordered the torture. He seemed to control the scientists, probably the entire Task Force. He said I wouldn’t remember, but the Instinct kept telling me to memorize him.”
She’d just started to move, her anger rising to volcanic heat, but Tate’s hold on her hips kept her in place. “No, Lia.”
“But he—” She turned back to face him, her hands prying at his grip. “Think of all the people he’s hurt. The families he’s destroyed. That he will destroy.”
Behind the sunglass lenses, she could see his eyes shifting from Wolf to back again, but his gaze never left her face. His voice dropped to a snarled tone. “Wait for the pack. If we rush him now, we’ll never get to him. We’ll just get ourselves killed. Or worse. He could recognize you.”
Then he’ll know exactly why I’m cutting his throat.
Tate’s hold tightened more, his faint growl drawing her back from the killing edge. “No, damn it. We’re not risking everything for a suicide mission, no matter how bad either one of us wants to rip out his spleen. I promise you, the bastard will pay, if it’s the last thing I do, but I need you to trust in me, in the pack. There are better ways to do this than going off half-cocked.”
It was so hard not to claw him right then. She ached, every part of her that was Wolf aching to run up to that stage and take her vengeance. But he was right. The smallest voice in her mind demanded she listen. That she feel his struggle not to attack for her. It was there, a shade of vicious blood rage in her heart too dark and contained to be her own. With a sigh, she let go, her body yielding to his.
“We’ll get back to the mountain and take this to Pale,” Tate promised, brushing his lips over hers the same way he stroked his hand down her back. Reassuring them both that they were making the right choice. “The way he hates Thompson, any intel you have is going to be like Christmas to him.”
She bit back a chuckle, trying her best to tune out the voice droning around them. “Since when are you the reasonable one?” The word
impulsive
had been invented for Tate.
He shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea. You’re the one who taught me a few things about patience. Speaking of, don’t jump, but here he comes your granny’s man.”
Of course she jumped, but she did as his hands commanded once more and didn’t turn around. Under the pretense of looking at her, she could see his eyes following the movement of the oncoming guide.
Two sharp raps on the other end of the bench and the man walked past them. Tate nudged her and—heart in her throat—Lia got up with him to follow. She let Tate lead, despite his maddening pace. All she wanted to do was run and catch up to the dark-haired man in the brown leather jacket, trying not to snarl in frustration when she’d lose track of him in the thick, moving crowd.
“Easy, Lia. I’ve got him, you don’t need to push. We don’t want to tip anyone off to this meeting.”
Lia frowned at the back of his head as they slipped past people and rides, his nose leading him unerringly back to the man in the brown leather jacket. So much for his theory on scents, but they couldn’t have known to expect a hunter like Tate.
Suddenly, they were there. The man had stopped outside a fortune-teller’s tent, his dark eyes on them as he waited next to the lowered ends of the entrance. Lia blinked, staring at his face. She’d seen him before, years ago. He’d been leaner, working on Aurelia’s roof, smiling at her and Laurel when Laurel had waved from across the street. One of Aurelia’s great-grandsons? He lifted the flap and indicated they were to go inside.
Tate stared at the opening but made no move to go in.
“We trusted you this far, Wolf,” the man said in a voice that didn’t carry far. “Your turn to trust us.”
Tate didn’t like it, that was sure, but Lia couldn’t turn away. Already a familiar scent danced around her. “She’s in there, Tate.”
Not willing to wait any longer, she passed through only slightly ahead of her grumbling mate. Instantly, they were both enveloped in the cool, dim air…and the scent of the woman she could never forget.
“Aurelia?” Lia nearly choked on the name, stumbling forward in the small space to the table and chairs where the old woman was struggling to rise. All Lia could see through a growing haze of tears was a calico print dress and a faded pink sweater over knobby, fragile bones. One gnarled brown hand rested on the edge of the cloth-covered round table and the other held onto a polished wood cane. “Oh, my God, it’s really you!”
Without thought, Lia wrapped her arms around the frail lady. She had to lean down so far she might as well have just knelt down, but she didn’t care. She buried her face in Aurelia’s white hair, throwing off the sunglasses and the hat as she did so, and closed her eyes against relieved tears that escaped faster than she could catch them.
The cane fell with a soft thump to the carpeted ground as Aurelia hugged her back, her hold surprisingly strong for someone who looked like a mild breeze could knock her over.
“When I heard your voice, I didn’t think it was possible.” Even choking up with obvious emotion, the voice didn’t match her tiny frame. Armed with a deep growl, Aurelia Collier had always terrified the children on their little block, but not Lia and Laurel. They’d known from the beginning that Aurelia’s true nature was more that of a cantankerous teddy bear. “I knew you weren’t dead. In my heart, I knew, but I never thought I’d hear you again.”
It took all her strength not to squeeze Aurelia harder, but Lia breathed her in as deep as she could. Finally, finally, she could smell home again. Aurelia’s gnarled hands came up to grasp her face, parting their embrace as she felt the contours of Lia’s tearful smile. Those thumbs wiped the tears before falling away.
“I can feel your parents on your face,” Aurelia whispered, sounding both mournful and pleased at the same time.
“I know.” Lia stared down, trying to regain some of her emotional equilibrium. Not easily done when Aurelia’s hand gripped hers so tight.
Not much had changed on the old woman. Same olive-brown skin, wrinkled and thin, same round, deep-set eyes. More lines had gathered around those eyes, running over her cheeks and down from the corners of her mouth. Even her chin had lines, but Lia couldn’t fault her for them. One didn’t get to be a ninety-five-year-old blind woman without showing some weathering. Especially not if you were Aurelia, who’d long ago proven herself fearless and indestructible. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be so far from the home she’d lived in for seventy years. It probably helped that whatever she didn’t like, she would simply crack with her cane until it died or was destroyed.
“I hear you’ve brought someone with you,” Aurelia said, crusty as ever, righting Lia’s rusty manners in a heartbeat.
She sent Tate an apologetic glance before clearing her throat. “Jensen Tate, this is Mrs. Aurelia Collier. Aurelia, this is my…”
“Fiancé,” Tate answered, shaking his head at Lia as if he were silently laughing his head off at her. He offered his hand out to Aurelia, but with his palm extended, fingers spread.
Lia frowned at him, but Aurelia leaned forward slightly and, if Lia didn’t know better, she’d think the old woman sniffed. Then she fit her hand on top, allowing him to raise it and drop a soft kiss on her bulbous knuckles.
“Got yourself one with manners, it seems,” Aurelia murmured, though Lia could sense warm approval in her tone. She stuck her hand out expectantly. “Cane.”
Tate bent down for it, for some reason testing its weight before handing it back to her.
“Not only does your favorite granny know Bears, honey, she
is
a Bear,” Tate whispered next to her ear, faint enough that she wasn’t sure she heard him properly.
“I didn’t complain that she brought home a Wolf, did I?” Aurelia sighed as she settled heavily back into her seat.
Lia stared back and forth at both of them. “She’s not a Bear.” She was Aurelia. She’d met a Bear and his scent wasn’t anything like Aurelia’s. He’d smelled of trees and cool stone. Aurelia’s scent was of arthritis ointment and aloe, cold cream mixed with talcum.
Tate tapped his nose. “Haven’t been wrong yet, remember?”
She turned to the woman who had been all but a second mother to her. “You were a shifter and you never said anything?”
Aurelia toyed with her cane, rolling the curved end side to side in her hand, her mouth turned downward in a hard scowl. “What was there to say? Your parents were determined to assimilate into human society. Most shifters don’t know Bear scent anymore so it was easy enough to let them believe what they wanted. They wanted a kindly old lady to help them watch over their children like a grandmother. I was happy to oblige.”
Tate slipped his hands into his pockets. “Most of the Bears left make it a point to stay out of the busy areas.”
“We made an exception for Lia.” She lightly slapped the table. “Sit down, both of you, you’re giving my neck a crick.”
Tate actually laughed as he pulled the two fabric-covered chairs from the opposite side of the table to arrange them closer to Aurelia. “We couldn’t give you a crick if we hit you with a sledge hammer.”