CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Angus asked Dante to watch over Ciaran, and Dante agreed. The only one not happy with the arrangement was Ciaran.

“Dad, I want to go with you!”

Ciaran’s panic wound around Angus, making him want to say to hell with Gavan’s mess and Shifter Bureau and the danger the arsenal posed. He wanted to stay put, hold his cub close, stay next to him forever.

He lifted Ciaran into his arms. As a human boy, he was getting too tall to be picked up, but Angus cared nothing for that. He kissed Ciaran’s hair. “I know, son, but you’ll be safer here with Dante. What Tamsin and I have to do is dangerous. I can’t look after both you and her at the same time. You know what trouble she gets herself into.”

Ciaran lifted his head, his stubborn scowl a mirror of Angus’s own. “Then Tamsin has to stay with me. Dante and Celene can look after her too.”

“That’s what I want, believe me, but she won’t listen.”

He and Tamsin had already had a long and loud argument on precisely this topic. Tamsin refused to remain behind. Angus needed protecting, she said, or he’d get himself killed. She would evade capture as she had all her life—she was good at it. Angus, on the other hand, was too slow and lumbering, she claimed, and they’d catch him without a problem.

Angus finally gave in only because he knew Tamsin would do something asshole stupid if he tried to leave her behind, like run off in the night to Shreveport alone or follow him. If they went together, at least Angus could keep an eye on her.

Ciaran, on the other hand, needed to stay well away from Shifter Bureau and Shiftertowns. If Angus and Tamsin were caught, Ciaran would be hidden with Dante, well guarded.

Ciaran’s mulish look didn’t disguise his tears. “What if you don’t come back?”

Angus’s first impulse was to say, Of course we’ll come back, but there was a real possibility they might not. He didn’t want to lie to Ciaran, who deserved to know, and who was old enough to scent a comforting fib.

“Then Dante and Celene will take care of you,” Angus said. “They’ll raise you like their own. Dante and I have already talked about it. He’s a good guy and will teach you how to be Shifter, but he’ll also keep you safe.”

Ciaran’s breath came fast. “I once thought Uncle Gavan was my dad. I cried a lot, because I was very little, and I didn’t like him. I didn’t understand why I didn’t like my own father. Then I found out you were my dad. I was scared of you when you took me away from Uncle Gavan and Mother, because I didn’t understand, but you acted like a real dad. You hugged me and talked to me and cooked me food and told me to clean up my room. I decided I’d never, ever leave you, no matter what.” Ciaran fixed Angus with his wolf gray eyes, full of determination. “No matter what.”

Angus’s heart burned, his anger at April and his love for Ciaran rolling into one fiery ball. “I said the same thing when I brought you home, Ciaran. I want to come back to you, more than anything in the world. I’ll fight like shit to get here. But I don’t want Shifter Bureau and Haider anywhere near you—I’m leaving you here to keep that dickhead away from you. No one will know you are with Dante—Haider and men like him will never find you. I promise.”

Ciaran’s lower lip came out. “Not the point. I still don’t want you to go, Dad.”

“I know. I don’t want to either. Sometimes we have to do crap we don’t want to so more people in the world don’t get hurt. I’ll have Ben and Tiger with me, and we’ll get this done as fast as we can. Just don’t give Dante too much trouble, all right? He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”

Ciaran thought about this and nodded gravely. “I’ll try. Can I still do the show?”

“Only if Dante is there to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t.” Ciaran spoke with the conviction of the very young. “Celene is careful, and what we do looks more dangerous than it is. But I’ll be safe,” he added quickly.

Angus hugged him, holding him tight. He loved this cub so very much. Part of the reason he was off to clean up Gavan’s mess instead of ignoring it and walking away was so that men like Haider and even Dylan wouldn’t find the arsenal and endanger all Shifters, including Ciaran. He was also doing it to get Tamsin free of these shitheads forever. After that . . . they’d talk about after that when they were done.

---

Angus drove them away from the carnival later that day in the pickup he’d borrowed once again. Tamsin sat next to him, her hair in a long braid under a cap that somewhat hid her bright hair. Tiger bulked on her other side, saying little as usual.

Tamsin tried to keep her spirits high. She played the radio and sang, trying to get Tiger to join in. She laughed when Tiger told her, straight-faced, “Tigers don’t sing.”

“I bet they do,” Tamsin said. “How many tigers do you know?”

Tiger considered. “Me. Kendrick. My cub. His cubs.”

“I bet your cub’s a cutie. Does he sing?”

Tiger shrugged his massive shoulders. “I don’t know yet. He gurgles.”

“Do you have pictures? You must have pictures.”

Tiger produced a wallet with an old-fashioned foldout section with a long string of printed photos. Tamsin exclaimed over each picture in turn.

“He must be the most adorable cub I’ve ever seen,” she concluded when she finished and Tiger folded the photos back into his wallet. “Except for Ciaran, of course.”

“Ciaran will be a fine wolf,” Tiger said.

Angus felt himself grow absurdly proud. Tiger wasn’t known for embellishment—if he said Ciaran would make a fine wolf, he meant it.

Dante had provided a cooler full of food, so they stopped at rest areas to eat and use the bathrooms, keeping to themselves. Tiger had a hat over his eccentric hair, and Angus wore a jacket to hide his Collar.

Angus drove through the night, with Tamsin sleeping slumped against him. Tiger remained awake as well, his eyes glittering in the lights from the road.

In the morning, they crossed the Texas border into Louisiana. At least now Angus couldn’t be arrested simply for being out of his Shiftertown’s state. For breaking curfew, leaving Louisiana in the first place, helping Tamsin escape, not turning her in, disobeying Shifter Bureau . . . all that they’d probably kill him for.

The Red River, which formed the border between Texas and Oklahoma, took a huge bend through Arkansas and then ran right through Shreveport’s metropolitan area. Resorts lined the river, and riverboat casinos were permanently stationed next to high-rise hotels.

Tamsin pointed the way across the river, through Bossier City, and out into green countryside filled with tall trees and grassy lots that sometimes contained trailer houses.

They passed a sign for an air force base and one pointing south to another military facility.

“Goddess, is that where Gavan found the weapons?” Angus asked in disgust. “Would he be stupidass enough to steal from the military?”

“I don’t know,” Tamsin answered, her tone glum. “Probably.”

He growled. “Just flipping perfect.”

“This way, I think,” Tamsin said, pointing down a side road that quickly turned to dirt. “I see motorcycle tracks. Ben’s, I’d guess.”

Angus hoped so. He didn’t want to surprise a motorcycle gang in the middle of doing whatever motorcycle gangs did. He didn’t fear fighting them, but they’d have a tale to tell and Angus couldn’t afford to let them.

“There’s Ben.” Tamsin pointed to a dark-haired man leaning on his motorcycle parked in the dark shadow of a tree.

Angus pulled the pickup as close as he could to the motorcycle without risking miring the truck in the mud.

“Well, here we are,” Ben said. “You doing all right, Tamsin?”

“As well as any girl can riding for hours and hours with smelly male Shifters.” Tamsin let out a laugh. “Is it still there? Are you sure?”

She asked the last question in a small voice, as though hoping Ben would say, Nah, I was just kidding, and tell them he’d made them drive all the way to Shreveport as a joke.

No such luck. Ben gestured for them to follow him and led the way down a slick path through some trees.

Angus wasn’t certain what he expected. An old bunker or a bomb shelter maybe, built underground and lined with cement, the only entrance a small door set in the earth. Or maybe an anonymous squat gray building with bars on the windows, or no windows at all.

What Ben took them to was a dilapidated mobile home that looked like the next high wind would knock it over. The grimy and rusting white mobile home reposed alone in the middle of a damp, overgrown field, resting on a wooden foundation whose once-blue paint had mostly peeled off.

Wooden steps that had led to the front door now lay in a rotting pile against the foundation. Ben reached over it and opened the door.

“Was it locked?” Angus asked.

“Yep. But the lock was easily broken.”

“Shit.”

There was no way an arsenal could be kept secure in that trailer. Had Gavan picked the place? Or had whoever sold him the weapons already had the stash here? Either way, it was a dumb-ass place to keep it.

Ben swung himself up into the trailer with ease. “Careful coming in here. Lots of holes and rotted boards.”

Angus went next, not wanting Tamsin to enter until he made sure it was safe. Or at least safe-ish. He’d prefer to tell her to stay out altogether, but he knew better than to think she’d listen to him.

He found himself in a dim, musty room that ran the length of the trailer, small windows letting in what light filtered through the trees. If the place had ever had interior walls, they’d been taken out. The trailer floor was covered with thin carpet coming up in patches, but was otherwise empty.

Tiger lifted Tamsin in, then climbed up himself. Tiger stationed himself just inside the door so he could look out without being seen. The spot also gave him a view through the back windows to the field behind the trailer.

“This is it?” Angus asked Tamsin in puzzlement.

Tamsin shivered, hugging her arms to her chest. “Yes.”

“I don’t see an arsenal.”

“It’s down here.” Ben pulled up a pad of carpet to reveal a rusted ring in a slab of floor. Ben settled work gloves on his hands before he pulled the flaking ring and heaved up the slab.

Angus cautiously leaned down to look inside. Ben flicked on a flashlight and shone it through the hole.

A sort of cellar had been dug under the trailer, a shallow one, or else the trailer had been positioned over it after the cellar had been complete. The underground space was longer and wider than the trailer, and indeed lined with cement. Angus gazed down at racks and racks of guns and rifles of all kinds—he didn’t know what they all were. A few bore patches of rust, telling him the cellar wasn’t air- or watertight.

That gave him an idea. “We could flood it,” Angus said. “Pour water down here and drown the stuff.”

“Might neutralize the explosives and ammunition,” Ben said. “Might. Depending on what kind they are and if they’re packed in waterproof containers. But anyone could dry off and repair an assault rifle. Same can be said of driving it to the river and dumping it in. Anyone could find it, clean off the stuff, use it or sell it.”

Angus straightened up, anger he’d thought he’d come to terms with a long time ago blazing forth. “Goddess damn my brother. I know he’s in the Summerland, but I hope all the Shifters there are kicking his sorry ass.”

---

They closed up the arsenal and prepared to leave. Ben had bought an iron strap, some long bolts, and tools at a hardware store, and he and Angus bolted the strap over the cellar slab so the trapdoor couldn’t be lifted without tools and a lot of strength. Ben also secured the front door with a shiny new padlock.

Angus was quiet as they moved back along the path to the pickup truck, more quiet than usual, which, Tamsin reflected, was saying something. Even when Angus didn’t talk much, he’d growl, rumble under his breath, or simply glower.

At the moment, Angus strode in silence, his face still. Tamsin wondered whether the rage that kept him so quiet was directed at his brother or at her.

“You all right?” she asked in a low voice.

“Hmm?” Angus reached down and took her hand, but he did so absently. “Just thinking.”

“About how you want to run like hell from me and never look back?”

Angus’s grip tightened, and now came the scowl that made his eyes glitter. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. You’re my mate. We stay together.”

While Tamsin warmed at that statement, she persisted, “What are you thinking about, then?”

“Ways to get rid of the stash. I have a couple of ideas. But we should talk later. I’ll need Ben’s help.”

Tamsin burned with curiosity, but Angus said nothing more. He helped her into the pickup, Tiger took his place on her other side, and Angus drove them back toward Shreveport, Ben leading them on his motorcycle.

“Where did the agents get killed?” Angus asked Tamsin as they rolled along the highway.

Tamsin shuddered, not wanting to think about it. She swallowed bile and said, “In the park at the lake. Dion was trying to get me to show him the arsenal, but the Bureau must have heard he was in town, or were following him already. They sent two agents . . .” Tamsin trailed off, the memories she’d pushed aside now filling her mind—the horrible snarling as Dion went into his half-beast Feline and attacked. Blood, screaming, the stench . . .

Angus’s touch brought her back from the darkness. Tiger, on her other side, put his hand on her arm, sensing her distress, but Angus’s touch reached her heart.

Tamsin took a long breath, shaking off the memory.

“We’ll avoid the park at the lake,” Angus said. “Ben already booked us into a motel room, and we’ll lie low there.”

The room wasn’t in a fancy high-rise resort, but a small chain motel farther down the river. At this point, Tamsin didn’t care where they stayed as long as it had a decent bathroom and a bed, and no Shifter Bureau agents.

But maybe one day she and Angus could be truly free to come here on a real vacation and stroll along the river hand in hand. They’d take in a show and a fine dinner, walk in the moonlight as a human couple would. No one would mind that they were Shifter, and they could go where they wanted, do what they wished. Ciaran would never have to take a Collar, and neither would any cub she and Angus had together.

The thought of having a cub with Angus filled her with sudden elation.

All the more reason to get this over and done with. If they destroyed the arsenal, Shifter Bureau would have no more reason to chase Tamsin around—well, apart from the fact that she had no Collar and hadn’t been registered and had avoided being forced into a Shiftertown. She’d prove somehow that she hadn’t killed the agents, and they wouldn’t be able to threaten her or Angus or Ciaran any longer.

Then she’d figure out her life from there.

No matter what happened, she wanted Angus to be a part of that life. Whether they turned revolutionary or moved into Angus’s Shiftertown and took up woodworking with Reg, she wanted him by her side, and Ciaran too. A family. And this family would stay together.

Tamsin flopped onto the one bed in the tiny motel room Ben had given Angus the key to. “I could eat something,” she said.

“Pretty good pizza place right across the street,” Ben offered. “Deep-dish, loaded with meat and cheese.”

Angus turned from shutting the door, and Tiger took up a watchful stance by the window.

“Will you two stop talking about food for three seconds?” Angus said impatiently. “It’s like being on one of those road trip shows for a food channel.”

“I love those,” Tamsin said with enthusiasm, and Ben nodded.

“I like the diners one,” he said.

“Can we focus?” Angus frowned at them, and deepened his frown when Ben and Tamsin grinned and high-fived each other.

He should know by now that Tamsin babbled nonsense to break the tension. But Angus looked like he’d explode if she teased him any further.

“Focusing now, Captain.” Tamsin saluted him, then made a motion of turning a key in a lock over her mouth and throwing the key away.

“Thank you,” Angus said in exasperation. “Tiger, I’ve heard of a guy from the Las Vegas Shiftertown. Name of Reid—not a Shifter but what Dylan calls a dark Fae. Apparently, he can do things to iron, like make it melt, change its shape—something like that. I wasn’t clear on the details.”

“Stuart Reid,” Ben answered before Tiger could. “He’s a dokk alfar. Much, much more personable than the high Fae, trust me. Reid is what’s called an iron master—apparently, he can make iron do his will. The catch is he can only command iron inside Faerie. The talent doesn’t manifest in the human world for some reason—he doesn’t know why. What he can do in the human world is teleport.” Ben took on a hopeful expression. “Maybe he could teleport the weapons, or pieces of the weapons, to places all over the country. Scatter their parts so far and wide that no one would be able to use them.”

“How long would that take him?”

“Who knows? He can only teleport to places he’s seen or been to, and I don’t know how much he can do before it spends him. Or whether he can teleport explosives without them going off and killing him, or if he can teleport anything iron or steel at all. If the weapons were inside Faerie, of course, he could reduce them to slag in no time.”

Angus shook his head. “I’m not taking an arsenal of human weapons into Faerie for Fae shits to get their hands on. If we could even find a way to get it there.”

“Would it matter?” Tamsin asked. “The weapons are full of iron. The Fae can’t touch them.”

“But Fae have recruited Shifters,” Angus reminded her. “Stupid Shifters who want to be Battle Beasts again. And I’m willing to bet the Fae have other kinds of lackeys who can touch iron. I understand the dark Fae can use it just fine. How well could we trust them? What’s to say they aren’t murdering assholes as well, but Reid happens to be a nice guy?”

“Dokk alfar are daisies in the sunshine compared to the hoch alfar.” Ben spat the last words, as though the syllables choked him. “But you have a point—we can’t trust that not one dark Fae would see the benefit of having a pile of automatic weapons land on their doorstep and prevent Reid from destroying them.”

“We’ll keep Reid on standby,” Angus said. “Thinking about Reid gave me another idea. When I was inside Faerie with Jaycee, we met a Fae who was pretty powerful. Lady Aisling—some kind of superpowered Fae. She did things that scared the shit out of me, but she might be able to destroy these things. She said she came into the human world often and that iron didn’t bother her as much as it bothers the rest of the high Fae. I don’t know if her power would work here, but it might be worth a shot to ask her.” He stopped as he noticed Ben staring at him. The man’s dark eyes were wide, his face ashen. “What’s wrong with you?” Angus growled.

“The woman you call Lady Aisling is one of the Tuil Erdannan.” Ben spoke the words carefully, as though fearing dire consequences if he mispronounced them. “Ancient beings, amazingly strong ones, who don’t give a shit about the problems of humans, Shifters, high Fae, dark Fae, goblins, or any other living, breathing creature. I’m pretty sure giving her access to a stash of weapons is the worst idea of all.”

“I met her,” Angus said without worry. “I was in her house. She didn’t strike me as the type to be excited by human tools of destruction. When Jaycee told her that Fae were recruiting Shifters to fight for them again, it annoyed her but didn’t alarm her. She helped us mainly because she liked Jaycee. Maybe if Jaycee asks, she’ll do it for her.”

“Or crook her little finger and wipe us all off the map,” Ben said, the fear in his voice clear. “You don’t mess with the Tuil Erdannan, Angus.”

Tamsin sat up. “She sounds intriguing. Can I meet her?”

“Not joking, Tamsin,” Ben said. “The Tuil Erdannan are seriously badass, and you don’t want to mess with them. Even asking one the time of day can get you killed if he or she is feeling peevish.”

“Definitely want to meet her then,” Tamsin said. “If she liked Jaycee, maybe we should ask Jaycee’s opinion.”

“Agreed,” Angus said. “Ben, can you contact Jaycee? I don’t want to risk using my phone.”

Ben looked from Angus to Tamsin and shook his head, as though washing his hands of this decision. “Sure, I can ask. I’m going to keep warning you that this is the most dangerous route to take, and maybe you’ll listen after a while. Though I won’t be able to say I told you so if I’m right, because we’ll all be a melted pile of goo. What do you think, Tiger? You’re usually a good judge of character . . . Tiger? What’s up?”

Tiger had gone rigid, his gaze fixed on the parking lot. Without answering Ben, he slipped out the door and vaulted over the balcony, straight down to the lot below.