After all the men and women on the bear shifter council were assembled in Creighton’s large office, he locked the door. “Since we’ll be discussing a distressing topic tonight, I nae want me twins ta come toddling in, searching fer a hug from their da. Does everyone have a drink?”

He glanced around the room. “Good. As ye ken, Bowie Matheson has been named ta replace Kendric when he takes over as Chief of Police on Sonas Isle. Bowie came ta me with some information ye all need ta ken. I’ll let him tell ye, same as he told me. Then we’ll talk.” Creighton sat and took a sip of his whisky.

Bowie wiped the sweat from his palms on his kilt before he stood. He’d never had to lead a meeting with the leaders of the council before. As he glanced around the room, faces he ken all his life stared back. Aye, he ken them well. He’d done his research. There was nothing one of them could throw at him that he couldna handle.

“Day before yesterday, I received word that members of a gang in Glasgow is spreading in our direction, if they’re nae here already.” Once Cameo left headquarters earlier yesterday, he was on the phone with the Chief of Police in Glasgow, gaining more information. He wanted to be on top of his game tonight. Knowledgeable as bloody hell so he’d make a good impression as the up and coming head of detectives.

“What kind of gangs?” Davina Matheson, nurse and well-respected shifter leaned forward. “Bad shifters who’ve gone rogue?”

“No. A criminal group of humans who go by the initials, HSS, which stand for Highland Savage Snakes. They’re in their twenties and use sawed-off shotguns, knives, and machetes.”

“Machetes?” A few shouted in surprise.

“Aye. They’re into robberies, selling drugs and capturing children and attractive women for the human sex trafficking trade.” The room went silent and Bowie’s gaze skittered from one concerned face to another. “Fer every kill they get a small star tattooed on their face and a half-moon fer every machete kill.”

“Merciful heavens, a man with tattoos like that came into my bakery a couple days ago and bought a few loaves of bread. He asked me if I always worked alone.” Glynnis buttoned and unbuttoned the top of her cardigan in a show of nerves.

Damn near everyone drained their glasses of Creighton’s best whisky. The laird walked around the council refilling their tumblers. “Keep going, Bowie. Ye were right ta bring this ta me. Paisley and I will keep a closer eye on our bairns because of yer foresight.”

“I’m only doing me job, Creighton. We have a new resident who has prophetic dreams of bad things that will happen. Her dreams are what brought the issue to me attention. I was dealing with an increase of robberies and didna ken why. We have so little of that kind o’ thing here. Ta back up her story, I called the Chief of Police in Glasgow to bleed him fer information. He was very forthcoming. The group is dangerous, diabolical, and deathly. They have strong leanings toward the Neo-Nazis. We canna take them lightly.”

“I had one come knocking at the door of me townhouse just this morning,” Earnan added. All heads swiveled in his direction, eyes wide in shock.

“Me old flat has been empty since Effie and I married. When a new lawyer in town was talking about finding a place to live, I offered to show her me former residence. Effie and I were there to give it a quick dusting when someone pounded on the outside door. I answered and this hellacious looking man with tattoos on one side of his face stood in front of me. Said he’d heard I had a place to rent. Asked how many bedrooms it had. How he heard all that, I havena a clue because I’d never advertised the flat.

“I was in the process of telling him it was already taken when Cameo Stone, the lawyer, pulled to the curb across the street. She started up the steps and he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her—”

Bowie’s bear roared. Everyone there ken what that meant and chuckled.

Thanks fer letting that cat out o’ the bag, ye windy feckin’ bear. Now everyone kens ye’ve claimed her.

Bear’s fur popped out on Bowie’s hands, so did his claws. No one touches our mate! He’s a dangerous man and he had his hands on her. I want to shift and hunt the bastard down. Rip him apart. Only ye can touch her.

While Bowie made a conscious effort to rein in his bear half, Earnan thumbed a number on his cell. “Effie, luv, guess whose bear has chosen Cameo for his human half?” The retired doctor snorted and laughed so hard he could barely speak—the bloody fool. “Bo…Bowie’s. And…and we just put them”—more laughter—“in the same house. Oh, this oughta be good.” He snorted once more and ended the call. He stared at Bowie a few seconds before he burst out laughing again.

“This is nae fookin’ laughing matter! These gang members are dangerous. We need to focus on their being in our area.” Bowie pointed his finger around the room. “And who me bear just claimed fer me is nae a topic fer conversation or joking. I’m still nae sold on the idea meself.” Bloody hell, maybe, just maybe that was a lie. But why did the fooker put his hands on Cameo? Maybe tattoo man needed his arms broken.

“Believe me, man,” Creighton said. “We never are. When mine chose an emotional blonde visiting from America, I was nae pleased. The idea quickly grows. The protectiveness. The gut-wrenching need.”

Every male in the room nodded and mumbled, “Aye, the gut-wrenching need.”

The four women on the council laughed.

Damn, Bowie was teetering on the edge of frustration now. “Can we get back ta the topic at hand? The HSS? I have more information to go over with ye and then we need to discuss ways to make our families safer.”

“One more thing,” Creighton interjected. “She told me wife she had another dream last night about three goons beheading three sheep with machetes. There were two small stone humpbacked bridges in the background over two small streams that eventually became one.”

Angus Matheson jumped from his seat. “That sounds like me place.”

Bowie pulled a chair over. “Now we talk and plan. Nae gang will get ahead of the shifters of Matheville and her surrounding areas. This is our land.”

* * *

Sheets and pillowcases were in the dryer. Two new blankets washed as Cameo put away her clothes. She’d checked out of Matheson Lodge after picking up some essentials at Jillian’s and kitten items at Fin and Claw. When she passed a market, she zipped in and did some grocery shopping. Having her own parking space near the front door was great when she had a lot of trips to make.

She’d just finished putting the pink floral sheets on the bed when someone knocked on the door. Who could that be? She hurried through the apartment and peeked through the peephole and saw pink. Effie.

“Welcome! You’re my first official visitor.” She held the door open for the pink dynamo who marched in wearing her pink baffies, hugging a thick old book to her, and carrying a cat carrier and a plastic bag.

“I wanted to get here earlier, but KeeKee wanted to know more about you and we read some things in this ancient volume of protection spells.” She set the carrier on the sofa. Two commanding meows sounded.

She placed the bag on the desk and tapped it. “I bought you a doorbell. There’s one outside for the upstairs tenant, but you’ll need one. I had a key to get in the main door, but visitors will need to really pound to get your attention. It’ll be easy to install. Just a couple of screws. No need for wiring. I’m sure the hunk upstairs would be glad to put it up for you. He probably has a screwdriver. Effie elbowed her. “In more ways than one. Oh, Darlin’, I think all that hanging under the kilts makes things bigger.” She snorted with laughter.

“Now, for the introductions. Sit next to the box. I’ll open it.”

Cameo listened and waited. A black kitten with white ears, nose, and front paws hopped out, landing lightly on her jeans. Eyes the color of moss regarded her. “Aren’t you beautiful?” She automatically petted the ball of fluff before she glanced at a beaming Effie. “I’ve never seen a cat with such gorgeous eyes, like moss velvet.”

KeeKee bumped her head against Cameo’s chin and began a sniffing process.

“I’ve told her from time-to-time you have scary dreams as a way of helping others. She found that to be very honorable.” Effie opened the big volume on her lap before she set the carrier on the floor. “I have some things to show you, but first you must know I’m the witch of a coven called ‘The Protectors.’ We’re assigned to take care of those too ill, too young, or too burdened to take care of themselves. We’re like Wiccan guardian angels, you see.

“First, carry KeeKee to her liter box so she knows where it’s at and scratch her front paws in it. Then set her in front of her bowls of water and feed. When you two come back, I’m going to read you some things from this book that’s centuries old. It’ll help bond you two together.”

Cameo tried her best not to look at Effie as if she were a pair of drum sticks shy of a full drum set. Since her instructions regarding the cat made sense, she carried her new pet through the apartment to show her things that were hers.

“While you do that, I’m going out to the car for a painting KeeKee insisted I bring. I’ll help you hang it.”

She cuddled her new kitten as she walked to the bathroom. “And what kind of painting did you decide you wanted here?” KeeKee looked at her and purred. “It better not be of a bunch of mice.”

The painting was better than she’d expected. It was in a large black frame and the subject matter was a sunroom with hanging ferns and blooming plants with palms in the corners. There was wicker furniture and stretched out on a glass table was a large black cat. “This is beautiful, Effie.”

“Have you met Kenzie Matheson at the lodge?”

“Yes. She’s very nice. A little shy.”

“She painted this when she was staying with me. She’s a protector, too. The cat is KeeKee’s momma. She wants a picture of her here so she doesn’t get so homesick. I thought maybe we could hang it above the fireplace. I’ve never been a fan of the painting Earnan has there.

Cameo grinned at Effie. “I say we do it.”

“Good,” Effie whispered. “KeeKee has to see you make the switch as your way of welcoming her. There’s a foldable stool next to the refrigerator.”

For heaven’s sake.

Once she took down the painting of eighteenth century ships, she hung the pretty one with hanging plants and flowers with KeeKee’s momma staring out at them. Cameo stepped off the stepstool and absorbed the painting’s brightening effect on the room. “It’s so perfect.”

KeeKee rubbed against her leg before curling into the thick cushion of the wicker cat bed Cameo had placed on the corner of the hearth. She gave her new pet a catnip mouse and the kitty licked her hand almost in gratitude.

Effie leaned Earnan’s painting against the front door. “She seems to have settled in quite nicely. I’ll read the protection charm and the binding ceremony to you both and then I’ll be off.” She leaned toward Cameo and chuckled. “I’ll have just enough time to put on my naughty nurse’s outfit and give Stud Muffin a complete going over when he gets home. I bought a new lace thong to wear since there’s no back to the skirt. The last pair I had he tore off in a fit of passion.”

Sweet Lord, take away that visual.

Cameo glanced at the cat. Even KeeKee had her eyes squinted as if to block out the image.

After Effie steamed off on a puff of estrogen powered plans, Cameo took the blankets out of the dryer and finished making the bed. Well, as good as one could with a kitten jumping under the covers to play.

Someone knocked at her door. She figured Effie would be rushing to her bedroom by now to change outfits. Did she have another old chant to sing over her? When she peered out the peephole, brown eyes and a broad forehead with brown hair swept back returned the stare. “Cameo, it’s Bowie.”

How did he get in the outside door? He’d need a key. A sick feeling knocked at her stomach. She unlocked her door and glared. “Don’t tell me you’re my upstairs neighbor.”

He leaned a broad shoulder against the doorframe and ducked his head as he grinned. “Okay. I willna tell ye.”

A large tan Boxer with a white chest stood next to his owner’s leg. She pointed. “Don’t even try to tell me this is Tiny. What does he weigh? Seventy-five pounds?” Her mind flipped back through all the conversations regarding the confirmed bachelor who lived upstairs. Not once was his name or his job mentioned. Damn, she’d been had.

“Closer to eighty. Say ‘hello’, Tiny. She’s a friend.” The big canine took one step into her living room and licked her hand. KeeKee charged for the dog, hissing and growling. She jumped onto his back, claws dug in, and rode the scared, yelping wild-eyed dog up the steps.

Her dipshit neighbor slid down the doorway laughing in hysterics. His kelt rose to reveal some finely muscled thighs. Cameo cuffed him in the back of the head. “Your dog better not eat my poor kitty.” She ran up the stairway to save her cat. The huge Boxer was spinning on the upstairs landing, trying to dislodge KeeKee. He bumped into Cameo, knocking her off balance and she tumbled down the steps.

Arms of steely muscle caught her, drawing her near his chest for protection. “Cammy, are ye alright? I only stopped by to welcome ye to the building and ask ye about this morning when the man grabbed ye. I also wanted ta ask about the dream with the sheep. I had nae idea yer kitten would create mayhem with me gentle dog.” He jerked his chin up the steps where yelping and hissing were still going on.

She turned in his arms. “How did you hear about the tattooed guy? Oh, Earnan must have mentioned it at the council meeting tonight.” Her fingers absently toyed with the silky ends of his hair. His whisky breath floated over her face. The man didn’t seem in any hurry to put her down.

“Aren’t I getting heavy?”

His face, sporting a late-day shadow, rubbed against her cheek. “Nae, ye feel fine right where ye are.”

Her tummy fluttered at the deep intimacy of his voice. No doubt he used it on many women. “I think we need to separate KeeKee and Tiny before they harm each other. Then come into my living room. Our pets need to get used to each other, so bring your beast along but keep him near you.” She patted his shoulder and his lips brushed over her face. “You can place me down now and have Tiny put a leash on you. The last thing I want is a man in my life.”

The corners to his lips twitched as he set her down. “Aye, ma’am.” Both hurried up the steps to retrieve their animals. Cameo petted KeeKee and told her what a good girl she’d been, protecting her from the big, bad dog. She and the kitty curled onto one of the leather chairs while she worked on calming her agitated pet.

Bowie sat on the sofa and, after asking her permission, motioned for Tiny to sit beside him. The dog jammed his face between Bowie’s bicep and chest while the rest of his canine body trembled in fear. Every time he pulled his head away from his master, KeeKee growled, and he shoved his muzzle back where he’d had it and farted. Cameo chose to politely ignore the noxious fumes.

The kitten lay across her shoulder where she could keep a watch over the unwanted intruder. Every time Tiny farted, the kitten sneezed and buckled as if she was working up a good hairball. KeeKee carried her own brand of puss sass.

“They’ll get used to each other eventually. We just have to give them short spells in each other’s company.” Cameo hoped she was right. But could she get used to her upstairs neighbor? He tended to ooze sex appeal and she’d been on a testosterone diet for most of law school.