CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The snake whipped around, mouth open, striking, but Tamsin was no longer there. She jumped like a cat, straight up, then five feet backward, and scrambled away when she landed.
The snake now homed in on her—maybe she was a tastier target in its little snaky opinion. It sped toward her, and Tamsin turned and ran like hell.
She saw the pair of blue-jeaned legs at the end of the culvert too late to swerve. The owner of the legs roared, “Shit!” and Tamsin went right between them and out into the desert.
She kept running, shivering, needing to flee.
“Tamsin!”
Only Angus’s full bellow could have stopped her. Tamsin turned, sides heaving, and looked back.
He had the snake in his hand. The reptile dangled from Angus’s grasp, Angus clutching it by the head. The snake was still alive, wrapping its diamond-patterned, sinuous body around his arm.
“There are probably more snakes out there.” Angus swept his free hand to indicate the direction she’d been running.
Crap, crap, he was right. Tamsin now saw little holes in the dirt around her, perfect for gophers—or snakes.
She spun on her back legs and charged toward the culvert. Angus, meanwhile, walked a long way out into the brush, where he, the traitor, let the snake go.
Ciaran had crouched down to peer into the culvert. “Are you Natalie?” he asked in a calm voice. “I can take you to your mom and dad. They’re looking for you.”
Natalie said something Tamsin couldn’t hear. Tamsin was too busy running in circles, trying to get over the creeps of her brief battle with the snake.
As Angus walked to her, she shifted to human. “I hate snakes.” She kept spinning around, stamping her feet, then jumping when she came down on stickers. “Hate them, hate them. Wait—I hate gators too. Okay, I hate all reptiles.”
Angus put his hands on her shoulders and stopped her spinning. Tamsin looked up at the widest smile she’d ever seen on him.
She stopped, transfixed. Angus’s eyes were dancing, his teeth showing in his grin, and then he laughed.
Tamsin stopped. She’d never heard him laugh before. The laughter came from deep inside him, rich and strong.
Worth it, maybe, to go through that little bit of hell to see this?
No. Nothing was worth snakes. “It isn’t funny, damn it.”
“You are.” Angus dragged Tamsin into his arms, lifting her from the sharp rocks and thorns of the desert floor. “My brave, bold mate. You found her, sweetheart. You found her.”
Hanging in Angus’s arms, happy with her, was not a bad place to be. The warm friction of his clothes on her bare skin made her want to cling to him, maybe rub against him. Kissing him sounded like a good idea too.
Angus’s eyes darkened, his skin flushing. His wanting came to her in waves, engulfing Tamsin and making her shivery with need. She knew in that moment she’d been yearning for Angus since she’d met him. She’d run from him, but she’d been watching him, following the lines of his body, doing anything to look into his eyes, his strong face, to feel his hands on her skin. She’d be lying to herself if she denied it.
The sound of children’s voices drifted to them. Angus gave Tamsin a long look, then very carefully set her down.
Tamsin gave him a brief kiss on the mouth and looked over his shoulder as Ciaran emerged from the culvert, leading young Natalie by the hand.
Natalie stood close to Ciaran, giving him a look like she was Princess Buttercup and her Westley had just rescued her.
She then gazed at Angus and Tamsin, who hid herself behind Angus’s broad body.
“Ciaran, why is that lady naked?” she asked in a small voice.
“None of us know,” Ciaran answered gravely.
Natalie was restored to her family at the office, to everyone’s relief. Her parents gushed over the little girl, hugging and asking her what happened, asking Tamsin—dressed again—how they’d found her. Ciaran generously volunteered Tamsin’s part in the search, saying how good she was, but he of course didn’t mention Shifters or foxes.
Natalie explained she’d been following a rabbit out into the field and then found herself lost. Hot, she’d gone inside the culvert to cool off. A snake had been crawling toward her, but a fox had attacked it, drawing it away, and then the fox had run off, and Ciaran had come to rescue her.
Natalie’s mother listened to the explanation without much comprehension in her eyes, then she began to scold Natalie for not sticking close by, and then she began to cry, to Natalie’s bewilderment. Natalie’s dad ushered them out to take them home, Dante returning the entrance fee they’d paid.
Natalie gave Ciaran a longing look as she left, but he only waved cheerfully as he, Angus, Dante, and Tamsin walked them to the entrance.
“I told you her mom would yell at her,” Ciaran said after the family moved toward their car, holding tight to one another. “Just like my dad.”
“All’s well that ends well.” Tamsin gave Natalie one last wave. “That’s what my mom used to say.”
The last words choked her, and she turned away so Angus wouldn’t see the sudden tears that flooded her eyes.
She found Dante giving her a watchful look. Dante had been impressed with Tamsin’s and Ciaran’s stories, praising Ciaran for his part in the rescue, but he knew they’d held information back.
Tamsin returned his look neutrally. Was Dante curious for curiosity’s sake? Or for a more sinister reason? How had Dante escaped detection all this time?
“You’re right,” Dante said, softening his gaze. “It ended well. I don’t like when cubs get lost. Thanks, Tamsin. You too, Ciaran.”
He said nothing about Angus, but Tamsin sensed Angus didn’t mind. He wasn’t a Shifter who sought the limelight. He didn’t have much of an ego, though he did possess deep-seated convictions about his strength and ability, convictions he didn’t slop onto everyone around him.
Angus, she decided, was a Nice Guy. A hot, sexy Nice Guy. Maybe that was why she’d said yes to the mate-claim.
Tamsin was still puzzling over the impulse that had made her yell her acceptance. Perhaps the Shifter in her had known it was right.
“Why don’t you kids knock off for the day?” Dante said to Tamsin. “Celene fixed up a trailer for you to use so you won’t have to sleep in your truck. It has a bathroom. With a shower.” He gave Tamsin a nod, knowing she couldn’t refuse.
“Thanks, Dante,” Tamsin said cheerily. “You’re a brick. Point us to it.”
Celene came out to join Tamsin and lead her and Ciaran to the trailer. Behind her, Tamsin heard Dante speaking in a low voice to Angus.
“Celene and I can look after Ciaran for a while,” Dante was saying. “You know, if you and Tamsin want to . . .”
He left the words hanging, but Tamsin knew exactly what he meant. Mating frenzy swirled inside her, making her want to take Angus out into the field beyond the fairgrounds, throw him to the ground, and satisfy her urges on him, never mind about all the stickers and the snakes.
“No,” Angus said, to both Tamsin’s relief and disappointment. “Ciaran stays with us.”
Tamsin knew he didn’t trust Dante enough yet to leave his cub in the bear-man’s care, which Tamsin agreed with. Worry for cubs trumped mating frenzy.
“If you change your mind . . .” Tamsin glanced back to see Dante clap his feathered hat onto his head. “Don’t let mating frenzy kill you, Angus. Give in. Give in.”
He shot a grin at Tamsin, knowing she’d heard every word, then walked back to his carnival, calling out to people as he went.
Celene slid her arm through Tamsin’s. “You’ll have time alone soon enough,” she said. “All Dante thinks about is mating frenzy.”
“You’re an interesting couple, aren’t you?” Tamsin said. “A bear Shifter and a half Fae. How did that happen?”
“Long story.” Celene smiled, her face one of the most beautiful Tamsin had seen. Tamsin thought her own face was too pointed, too full of nose and eyes, but Celene’s had perfect proportions.
“I’m a very curious person, so you’ll have to tell me someday,” Tamsin said. “What did you mean when you said we’d have time alone soon enough?” She had suspicions in bucketfuls, just like Angus.
“Hmm? Oh, I meant we’ll be on the move tomorrow, and if you come with us, you and Angus will probably have time alone sooner or later. Are you coming with us? We’d love to have you.”
“Yes,” Tamsin said without hesitation. “Of course we are.” Angus didn’t know it yet, but . . .
“Just a warning. If you travel with us, you have to work. Dante will hire you if you want jobs, but at the very least, you’ll have to help out in some way. We can’t afford too much hospitality.”
“Absolutely. We’ll earn our keep. I was thinking of an act to do as a sideshow. It will be hilarious.”
Celene raised her brows. “Does Angus know about this?”
“Not exactly. Not yet.”
Celene laughed, and even that was beautiful. “That’s how you deal with Shifters. Keep them guessing, so they don’t come over all dominant and growling. Oh, no offense.”
“None taken. You’re totally right. Are you sure you’re part Fae? You’re too nice.”
“I’m supposed to want to see all Shifters in Collars and cages, and I pull wings off flies too, right?” Wisdom lurked in Celene’s eyes. Tamsin wondered how old she was. Fae lived a long time—did half Fae?
“The Goddess’s honest truth is I’ve never met a Fae,” Tamsin said. “I’ve only heard the rumors.”
“Some Fae are wonderful, some are terrible. Like Shifters. And humans. My mother was Fae, my dad human. I spent some of my childhood in Faerie, some here. My mom had a hard time in the human world, so finally she stayed in Faerie. My dad lived out his human life span and passed about ten years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Tamsin said quickly. “My dad’s gone too.”
Celene nodded. “It’s tough. But I met Dante, and he filled up the empty spaces, you know what I mean?”
Filling up the empty spaces made sense. Angus was rapidly doing that with Tamsin, without her realizing it.
Angus reached them. Celene gave Tamsin a broad smile and, to her surprise, pulled her into a hug, Shifter-style.
Tamsin realized with a start that hugging a Fae, her traditional enemy, wasn’t so bad. Celene’s slim arms were strong, comforting, her scent now familiar, hers. Celene released her, leaned down to kiss Ciaran on the top of his head, and left them.
The “trailer” they’d been lent was in reality a large, sleek RV. Tamsin had expected a pickup with a camper shell or a rickety mobile home, but this was an older but well-cared-for camper trailer, the kind people drove cross- country in, living their vacation.
Benches lined the walls just inside the door. Halfway along was a booth with a table and two wide seats across from a tiny kitchen with a sink, stove, a very small refrigerator, and cupboards. Beyond that was a closet, above which was a curtained bunk bed. The bathroom was tucked across from the bunk bed and closet, and did indeed have a shower. In the very back, taking up the rear five feet of the RV, was the master bedroom, which consisted of a large mattress on a platform.
“Nice!” Ciaran instantly climbed up to the bunk bed and pulled the curtains closed. “This is my room.”
That left Angus and Tamsin standing in the middle of the RV, looking at everything but each other.
“Awkward,” Tamsin said at last.
A flush rose on Angus’s face. “You take the bed. I’ll get our things from the truck, then go patrolling. I’ll sleep there tonight.” He pointed at one of the forward benches.
Tamsin reached up and touched his hot cheek. “You know, I’ve never met a Shifter who blushes about mating frenzy. I like it.”
“Patrolling,” Angus said. “I’m blushing about patrolling. But I need to do it. Too many risk factors out here.”
Tamsin brushed his cheek again, liking the feel of his whiskers under her fingertips. “I don’t know. I’ve felt safer here than anywhere in a long while. I think Dante is all right. Weird, but okay.”
“We don’t know anything about him,” Angus said. “The less we tell him, the better. I’m grateful for his help, but we can’t know what he means to do. We’ll be out of here tomorrow anyway.”
“Um,” Tamsin said, lowering her hand. “About that . . .”
Angus’s eyes narrowed. “What?”
“I kind of told Celene we’d be traveling on with them. I have this great idea for a show . . .”
“Tamsin.”
“Think about it—we’re buried in a crowd here. We’ll blend in with all their trucks and trailers when we go. We’ll be just more anonymous people with the carny. But Celene says Dante will want us to earn our keep, so I’m working up a show idea.”
“No shows.” Angus stepped closer, irritation wiping away his embarrassment. “The last thing we need is someone telling their friends that there’s a beautiful redheaded Shifter woman doing a carnival sideshow. What were you planning? A fox hunt?”
Tamsin stared at him, lips parting. “Did you say ‘beautiful’?”
“Yes.” The answer was impatient. “Memorable. No one could forget you, Tamsin.”
Words stuck in her throat. That’s the most wonderful thing anyone’s ever said to me.
Why couldn’t she say that? Smile at him? Make him blush again?
Because it was too important. Tamsin got through her life waving her emotions aside, teasing to cover up her hurt and fears.
What she felt for Angus was too strong to be pushed aside. Joked about. Shrugged away.
Angus obviously saw nothing extraordinary in what he’d said. The man only made blunt statements, no flirtations, seductions, or floweriness. He would only ever speak the truth as he saw it.
Tamsin’s heart beat faster, and her world changed.
Ciaran stuck his head out from between the curtains. “If you need to work out the mating frenzy, it’s all right. Brina—Dante and Celene’s cub—invited me over tonight to play video games.” He slid his legs around, preparing to descend.
Angus’s face went brick red. “No. You stay here with Tamsin. I’m going patrolling.”
Without another word, just a glare at his son, Angus swung around and stomped out the door.
At least he didn’t slam it. Tamsin pulled it closed after him and locked it.
Ciaran stared down at her from his bunk. “What did I say?”
Tamsin let out a long breath. “Nothing, sweetie.” She went to him, rose on tiptoe, and gave him a tight hug. “You’re perfect. Don’t worry about your dad. He’s a growly thing.”
“Yeah.” Ciaran clung to Tamsin a long moment, his warm, small body relaxing her worries. “I’m glad you’re staying, Tamsin. Can I start calling you ‘Mom’?”
Tamsin released Ciaran and grabbed the side of his bunk to hold herself up. “Sure, if you want.”
Ciaran grinned, leaned down, and kissed her forehead, then squirmed around with the quickness of a wolf cub and jerked the curtains closed.
“Night, Mom!” he sang out.
Tamsin’s eyes flooded with tears. “Night, Ciaran.”
Monday, Dante’s workers tore down the carnival, and Angus drove the RV in the long convoy of trucks and trailers moving from San Angelo to the next gig Dante had booked at the end of the week. They’d drive Monday afternoon, spend the night in a motel, and enter the fairgrounds on Tuesday to start setting up.
Dimitri’s truck cab was now fully covered with bright red, white, and blue logos for the carnival, and was busy pulling one of the booths. Angus hadn’t recognized the cab when he’d emerged after sleeping a few hours in the RV on one of the hard benches. He’d only seen it gone and demanded to know what Dante had done with it.
Dante had grinned and pointed it out. Dimitri would shit a brick when he saw the fiery curlicues and big letters all over it—whether it was painted or the logos and decorations merely stuck on, Angus couldn’t tell. But the truck was well camouflaged, and Angus would make it up to Dimitri if he ever got the chance.
At the moment, Angus was with his cub and his mate, and that was fine with him. Ciaran rode buckled onto one of the benches—Angus wouldn’t let him lie in his bunk the whole way as he wanted to.
They kept up a sedate pace. Travelers in cars honked and waved as they passed the carnival in their brightly painted trailers, the rides on flatbed trucks. They ignored Angus, their RV being fairly ordinary. Tamsin was right—they were hidden in a crowd.
Angus had lent his muscles helping dismantle the rides and booths, most of which were already on wheels. Each booth’s sides folded up, and the whole thing was hitched to a semi, like Dimitri’s. Whatever Tamsin had been busy doing, Angus didn’t know, but she’d kept Ciaran with her and watched his son with a careful eye.
Ciaran had ceased calling her Tamsin and now called her Mom. Angus hadn’t yet figured out how he felt about that.
As she had in Dimitri’s truck, Tamsin fiddled with the RV’s radio until she found a station she liked, and she and Ciaran began singing. Her voice blended with Ciaran’s, neither of them knowing crap about staying in tune, and brightened the air. Maybe, Angus thought, just maybe, things would be all right.
Angus held on to that shred of hope through the trip down Texas highways. He saw no sign of Shifter Bureau, or Haider, or Dylan, or of any Shifter but Dante.
No sign of Shifters didn’t mean they weren’t out there. The best trackers were good at staying hidden while they stalked.
But it was easy to get caught up in the carnival’s routine. They pulled into a chain motel with an RV park to spend Monday night. The crew enjoyed a night of beds inside four walls and then Tuesday they pulled up to a field outside Wichita Falls, in north Texas, that would house the carnival this weekend. They rested for the remainder of the day, and on Wednesday morning, they started to set up.
While Angus helped with the rides, Tamsin worked on her “act.” She and Angus argued every day that she would be putting herself at risk, but she insisted no one would recognize her. When he tried to forbid her as her mate, Tamsin only looked at him doubtfully and walked away to meet up with Celene.
Angus shook his head and got back to work. He’d let her think she was getting away with it for now. When the night came for her show to start, he could lock her in the RV and let her rage at him.
On Thursday evening, they tested the rides to make sure none needed repair or were unsafe in any way. Dante insisted on several tests—if he wasn’t happy, the ride didn’t run.
“People have gotten seriously hurt or killed on park rides,” Dante had told Angus. “Not often, but never in my carnival.”
Ciaran had hit it off with Brina, it seemed, and Dante had even let his cub ride with Angus for a leg of the trip. Ciaran and Brina had played games on Brina’s tablet the whole time. Growing up without Shifter Bureau restrictions, Brina had gadgets that Ciaran wasn’t allowed.
Now the two were strolling around the grounds. Grass grew in the fields beyond the fence, much more green here than in San Angelo, but the grounds themselves were bare dirt.
Angus kept his eye on the cubs as he went to help the woman who owned the Zipper ride lock down bolts and test cages. This ride had scared the shit out of him, and he wanted to make sure there was no way it could hurt anyone crazy enough to get on it.
He heard an abrupt shout. Angus jerked up from tightening a screw, his hackles rising, scenting danger.
The ride that was essentially a giant swing shaped like a pirate ship teetered. The hydraulic lift that raised it from the truck bed had jammed, the sudden halt slamming and rattling the ride’s supports.
The swing jarred loose from its mooring and swung out on its smooth axle, knocking down the barriers too hastily set in place around it and heading straight for Ciaran and Brina.