CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Angus braced himself for Tamsin’s snarl of outrage, for angry questions, even snarky comments, but she remained oddly silent.
He glanced at her. Tamsin was staring straight ahead, watching the road unroll under the glare of the headlights, her face pale behind the dirt streaking her cheeks.
“It was the only way to get Dylan off your back,” Angus said quickly. He who didn’t like to talk now spilled out words. “You’re fair game, by Shifter terms. Unprotected, no mate, no father, no clan leader. If I mate-claim you, then no one messes with you. Not Dylan, not my clan leader, not Shiftertown leaders, no one. Even Shifter Bureau has to clear things with me.”
Her lips parted as she listened, Tamsin’s tawny eyes focusing on him. Those eyes were quiet, the teasing, carefree manner she hid behind gone.
“I wasn’t there,” she said softly. “How can you mate-claim a female who isn’t in the room?”
“It wasn’t a completed claim. But it was good enough. I claimed you before witnesses and in sight of the Goddess. It counted in Dylan’s eyes, which was why he let me go and didn’t give chase.”
“So far,” Tamsin said. “He hasn’t given chase so far. But he will.”
“I know,” Angus said. “But now that I’ve made a mate-claim, his trackers will back off, because they’ll have to fight me to get to you. They know me, and know I won’t simply stand aside. Some of them have become friends, and they might refuse to obey Dylan on this.”
Ciaran leaned over the seat to her. “All you have to do is say yes, Tamsin.”
His voice held hope. April had taken Ciaran away when he was only two, and had died the next year, months after Angus had found her and wrested Ciaran back from her. Ciaran didn’t remember much about April, but he felt the loss. He’d never had a proper mum, and he knew it.
Tamsin sent him a glance, then fixed her gaze on Angus again. “I’ve been mate-claimed before. Twice. I turned both claims down.”
“Why?” Angus demanded. “Were the Shifters who made them assholes?”
A ghost of Tamsin’s grin touched her mouth. “Well, yes.”
“I did it to protect you, to add the layer of my fists between you and the world,” Angus went on. “You do so many crazy things, you need someone to fight for you.”
Again Angus waited for her derision, her laughter at him for doing something so stupid.
“You don’t have to put yourself in danger for me,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’m always running from bad people—I must be a bad-people magnet. But some of them turn out to be dangerous, like Haider. Seriously. Don’t officially be their enemy too.”
“I didn’t do it to be a hero.” Angus swerved around a slow-moving car. “I did it to save your ass from Dylan. He was going to call down all his trackers on you, including Tiger. Tiger’s a big, messed-up Shifter bred in a lab in Area 51. He’s not like normal Shifters. If Dylan sets him on your trail, you’ll never get away, no matter how far you run or where you hide. But Tiger’s a good guy at heart—he’s got a mate and a cub, and he’ll respect that I’ve made a mate-claim. Doesn’t mean he won’t find you; but he’ll understand that I’m your protector, and he won’t simply take you. He’s a tracker for Dylan and his son Liam, but Tiger doesn’t mindlessly obey anyone. He makes his own decisions.”
Tamsin didn’t answer for a moment, and when she did, her tone was thoughtful. “You know, I’ve never had a male try to scare me into a mate-claim by threatening me with a super-tracking Shifter from Area 51.” She looked out the front window again. “I’m going to have to think about this.”
“Are you not accepting because he has a cub already?” Ciaran asked, worried. “I’m usually good. I even clean my room sometimes before my dad remembers to tell me to do it.”
Tamsin turned around and clasped Ciaran’s hands, kissing each one. “Oh, sweetie. If I could have you as my cub, I’d love it. It’s not you I’m worried about—it’s your dad. I’d have to live with him.”
“No,” Angus said abruptly. “You do what you want. But no one touches you if I’m your mate.”
Tamsin squeezed Ciaran’s hands again and released him. “This is the weirdest mate-claim I’ve ever heard, I have to say. Are you sure you’re not just overly tired, Angus? You need some shut-eye. You’ll wake up horrified you ever thought of such a thing, and you’ll want us to forget all about it.”
“Nope.” He shook his head. “Situation will be the same whether it’s the middle of the night or the light of day. A mate-claim is binding. All other males will back off. The only way it ends is if you say no.”
Angus clamped his mouth shut, willing himself to stop talking. He expected the next words out of Tamsin’s mouth to be All right, then. No. But she said nothing.
They went on, Angus cutting south of Austin, skirting San Marcos, and north into darkness again. Ciaran dozed behind them, worn out from the excitement and his worry that they’d lose Tamsin. It had been Ciaran who’d caught sight of her leaping from the field and yelled at Angus to stop.
“We need to pull off somewhere so you can sleep,” Tamsin said sometime after Austin’s lights had faded behind them. “Ciaran too. I’ll keep watch.”
Angus gave her a quick look. “You really think I’d do that? First, no way am I letting you decide to run off while I’m asleep. Two, there’s nowhere to stop. Kendrick’s place is out—Dylan will simply corner us there. Every Shifter in Kendrick’s group and the Austin Shiftertown will know by now that Dimitri lent me this truck, so they’ll be looking for it. We need to find different transportation and only then a safe place to rest—far, far from here.”
“Wherever here is,” Tamsin said, peering out into the dark. “Too bad—I like this truck. I hate to give it up. It’s cozy.”
“It’s conspicuous. Shifter Bureau might not know about it, but every Shifter in Texas will soon.”
“Out of the frying pan, into the fire. That’s the saying, right? Where are we, do you think?”
“River country west of Austin. At least that’s what the signs all say. There’s a map in the dash.”
Tamsin pulled out a thick, folded-up paper map. “Oh, I love maps. The paper ones are much more visceral than ones on a phone screen, right?” The map rustled as she unfolded it, then she flipped on an overhead light to study it, while Ciaran, who’d awakened, looked over her shoulder. “Let’s see. Here’s Austin. There’s the lake. The river goes that way to—Llano?”
“Passed it. We’re on the 71.” A sign flashed by to confirm that.
“Next town is called Brady.” Tamsin’s finger touched it. “Not much out here. Very small towns. I like small towns, but I kind of stand out in them.”
“No kidding.” With Tamsin’s brilliant red hair and laughter, bouncing in and out of people’s lives, she must make herself memorable. “We’ll head for San Angelo,” Angus said. “It’s a big enough town to let us be somewhat anonymous, and we can find another ride there.”
Tamsin traced the line on the map. “Yep, that’s where this road goes. How do you know so much about the middle of Texas?”
“I’m a tracker. I know a lot about a lot of places. Plus I used to drive all over the country when I was a trucker. And the biggest clue is we just passed a sign that said San Angelo was eighty-five miles from here.”
“Smart-ass,” Tamsin said. “Can you stay awake that long? Maybe I should drive.” She gave him an eager look.
“Yes, I can, and no, I’m not letting you drive. You and Ciaran try to get some sleep, and I’ll wake you when we get there.”
“All right,” Tamsin said. She shook out the map, folded it perfectly—Angus could never get the things to fold up again—unbuckled her seat belt, and climbed into the back with Ciaran.
“Not on the bed,” he said. “Too dangerous if I have to stop suddenly or someone runs into me. You could go flying.”
“Sheesh,” Tamsin said in mock outrage. “I haven’t accepted the mate-claim and already you think you’re my lord and master.” She buckled herself in next to Ciaran. “Let me tell you, Mr. High-and-Mighty, I don’t care if I accept your claim and do the sun and moon ceremony with you. I’m not about to be an obedient, submissive little mate who does everything you say.”
“Good.” Angus stepped on the gas. “I’d gag if you were.”
“Just so we understand each other,” Tamsin said.
“Oh, I think we do.”
Angus’s tension eased a bit as Tamsin stuck out her tongue at him, then drew Ciaran against her, leaned back, and closed her eyes. Ciaran snuggled happily into Tamsin’s side, opening one eye to give his dad an admonishing look.
She hadn’t instantly rejected the claim. For some reason, this made Angus warm, and a hope he hadn’t felt in years rose. A need as well. He looked forward to reaching San Angelo, finding a place to rest, and continuing the conversation.
Bright lights flashed in Tamsin’s face. She jumped awake, fearing to find police and Shifter Bureau bearing down on them, but what she saw made her sit up straight and point over Angus’s shoulder.
“Hey, there’s a good place to hide.”
There was a carnival, a wide empty lot covered with machines bearing screaming people aloft, lights flashing and blinking, music reaching them through the closed windows of the truck.
Plenty of semitrucks were parked around the periphery, with cabs of all colors. RVs and trailers mixed with them, the carnival workers’ traveling homes.
Angus was silent, as though trying to think up an argument. There were plenty—the carnival people would notice them slipping their truck in among theirs, they weren’t pulling a trailer, Ciaran might eat too much cotton candy . . .
Angus slowed the truck and turned, rolling across a cattle guard to a dirt road that led to the lot full of semis. He drove carefully, easing the black cab in between a red one and a brown, killing the lights and the engine.
It was quiet back here, the carnival starting to die down this late, but the lights were still on and stragglers soaked up their evening.
“If they start loading up to leave, they’ll notice us,” Angus said, his voice a rumble.
“They won’t.” Tamsin watched people drifting around the rides, daring to rest her chin on Angus’s shoulder. “The carnival will be here at least the whole weekend, probably moving out Monday morning. We can befriend them and travel with them.”
Angus sent her a skeptical look, and Tamsin flashed him a brief smile.
She hadn’t recovered yet from the shock of his mate-claim. It shouldn’t count if she hadn’t been there, should it? In the old days, it would have. A hundred years and more ago, Shifter males picked out their mates and declared it to the world, whether the female was around to protest or not. The female could say no, but it was in the male’s best interests to get the claim in before another male did.
Mated to Angus. To have him in her life, for always.
She barely knew him. She didn’t know what movies he liked, or if he even liked movies. Or his favorite foods, or if he liked to sleep in on Sundays or if he woke up at dawn and watched the sunrise while offering prayers to the Goddess.
On the other hand—Tamsin knew all the important things about him. He was a loving father who’d do anything for his son. He stood up for the underdog—or in her case, the under-fox. He was protective of those in his care. He bristled and growled but always did the kind thing. He didn’t let other Shifters or the shits in Shifter Bureau intimidate him.
To sum up, Angus was strong, confident, caring, intelligent, and an all-around great guy. And he was hot.
How could she forget hot? He had a well-honed body and was sexy as hell. Tamsin hadn’t averted her gaze back in the bayous when they’d shifted from animal to naked humans—she’d looked her fill.
If she accepted the mate-claim, her fantasies about him—Angus making love to her while covering her mouth in heated kisses—could be real.
The mate-claim did mean no one could legally touch her while Angus was alive. She had the feeling, however, that Haider would simply kill Angus to eliminate that obstacle.
The breath left Tamsin’s body. The trouble with caring for people was that she now had someone to lose.
Refusing the mate-claim and running off into the Texas desert would do away with that problem. So her choice was this: Flee and eat her heart out missing Angus and Ciaran the rest of her life. Or stay and endanger them.
She wanted to cry.
Angus cupped her cheek with his broad hand. “You and Ciaran get into bed and sleep. I’m going to scout around.”
Tamsin kissed his palm, liking its roughness against her lips. “The carnies might tell us to leave. Or toss you in carnival jail. Do they have jails at carnivals?”
“I don’t plan to be seen.” Angus brushed his thumb over her lips. “Go to sleep. Watch over Ciaran.”
Tamsin nodded. If he’d told her not to run away, she wouldn’t have listened and made her own decision. Charging her to take care of Ciaran had the strength of a chain. She’d never disappear and leave Ciaran unguarded.
Angus slid his hand behind her head, pulled her close, and kissed her.
Tamsin’s body tightened to a point of pleasure. She leaned into Angus as he swept his tongue into her mouth, rising need burning her blood. She opened her mouth for his, suckling his tongue, drinking his warmth into her.
Angus drew back, but not hurriedly. He skimmed his fingertip across her lips, the corners of his mouth curving upward as Tamsin caught his finger lightly between her teeth.
“Get some sleep,” Angus whispered.
Tamsin nibbled his finger, then licked it. Angus’s cheeks grew redder in the flash of lights from the midway, but he didn’t pull away. Tamsin kissed his fingertip and sat back, a ball of heat gathering in her chest.
Angus caressed her cheek with his thumb, turned from her to grab his jacket, and slid out of the truck to the ground. He shook himself when he landed, then pulled on the jacket, quietly closed the door, and faded into the darkness.
Tamsin let out a long breath. She gave herself a shake as Angus had, trying to snap out of the hunger that roiled inside her.
A fox and a Lupine. That was never going to work.
She found Ciaran’s eyes open, his look knowing. “You’ll be his mate,” he said with conviction.
“Maybe.” Tamsin pulled him close and kissed the top of his dark head. “Let’s hit the sack. Your dad’s out there taking care of us.”
She believed this without having to reason it out. Angus wouldn’t desert her or Ciaran, nor would he let anyone near them.
Ciaran burrowed under the blankets, and Tamsin lay on top of the bed, pulling a loose cover over herself. Ciaran snuggled down trustingly and soon was asleep.
Tamsin lay awake, staring at the ceiling above her, trying not to listen for every noise, and to sort through the jangled thoughts in her head.
Angus walked quietly but purposefully from the shadows of the trailers toward the carnival. He’d learned to blend into the human world by looking innocuous—as innocuous as a large man in a hoodie with a Collar could.
For this moment, he’d be a silhouette, just another human shape in this field, navigating his way around the vehicles.
The carnival was set up in what looked like a fairground, with rides up and down the length of a very large field, and a grandstand beyond where rodeos must be held. Tents and booths formed aisles, though most were being closed and locked for the night. This carnival was using about half the grounds, probably a small traveling operation that set up where they could get space.
Angus stayed to the deeper darkness, trying to look nonchalant, as though he belonged, worked there. Plenty of other shadowy men were carrying things to trailers and trucks, locking doors, shutting down rides. The last human visitors were being herded out the gates.
A decent place to hide, he’d decided, both from Haider and from Dylan. Dylan expected Angus to pry knowledge about Gavan from Tamsin, but Dylan could suck on it. Angus didn’t give a crap about what Tamsin knew about Gavan—which was probably little.
Angus had known Gavan better than anyone—he might have boasted about something, but he’d been all talk and no substance. All hat and no cattle was a saying among ranchers. Gavan and his followers had been found and killed because they were stupid, and Angus wanted to forget him. Whatever Tamsin knew—if she knew anything—could stay in her head. Dylan would have to find out the information another way.
Angus heard a step behind him. His first thought was Tamsin—What the hell? But it wasn’t Tamsin.
He heard a growl, scented the sudden whiff of predator. Angus spun in place, going into a crouch. Red eyes that glowed with rage and possessiveness blazed out at him from the gloom.
The eyes belonged to a solidly muscled bear, its mouth pulled back to reveal teeth gleaming in a savage snarl. No Collar glinted around the bear’s neck, but Angus knew bloody well what he faced. Shifter.