White Tiger

“About right.” The relaxed look in Seamus’s eyes told Kendrick that this woman, Bree, had a calming effect on him. He’d never seen Seamus so at ease. “She saved my ass from getting caught and executed. Least I could do was mate-claim her.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you had to thank her somehow.” Kendrick looked Seamus over a moment, then jerked the man back into a hug.

Seamus closed his arms around Kendrick, and for a time the two men held each other, soaking in warmth and touch.

Kendrick at last made himself release Seamus and return to business. If they’d had time, they’d have shifted to their big cat forms and spent an hour or so lazing under the sun, heads together, paws resting on each other, taking comfort in each other’s presence.

Kendrick flicked his fingers over the black and silver Collar around Seamus’s neck. “Why are you wearing this?”

“It’s fake,” Seamus said. “Dylan asked me to put it on—okay, he pretty much demanded me to. At the time, I needed to pretend to be a Collared Shifter, or I would have been arrested.”

Kendrick let out a breath. “At least it isn’t real. But you look strangled in it.”

“I don’t like it.” Seamus fingered the Collar, which didn’t move. It must have been fused into his skin, like the real ones. “But it’s better than being rounded up and caged. I go back and forth from Shiftertown to my girlfriend’s house—this makes it easier.”

“I understand. Dylan gave me a fake but leaves it up to me when to wear it. He probably knows I’d make him eat it if he didn’t give me the choice.”

“Dylan is . . .” Seamus trailed off, searching for the right words. Seamus had never been an eloquent man, preferring a simple and straightforward fight to conversation. Take it down first, ask questions later. “. . . complicated,” Seamus finished. “You see him with his granddaughter and grandsons and think he’s the most loving man ever. Then he turns around and becomes the most terrifyingly ruthless shite I’ve ever laid eyes on. Hot and cold.”

“I noticed,” Kendrick said. “I told him I was done working for him. Do you know if he got my message?”

Seamus nodded. “He’s not happy with you, but understands—so he said. He’ll not pursue you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The knots in Kendrick’s stomach loosened one strand. “Good.”

“But I wouldn’t write him off just yet. If he decides he needs you, he’ll come after you. I’m willing to bet he knows exactly where you are even now.”

“Probably.” Addison describing how she’d seen Spike and Tiger in the parking lot in San Antonio had unnerved him. Regardless of whether they’d ever seen Addison, Tiger was uncanny at putting things together and finding out who people were. Spike would follow right along with Tiger and stop at nothing to track Kendrick down.

Or so Kendrick understood. He’d met Spike and Tiger only once, as he’d told Addison—Dylan had kept Kendrick separate from the Austin Shifters. Compartmentalizing, as Ben had said.

Which reminded Kendrick . . . “So who is this Ben?” Kendrick asked.

Seamus shook his head. “I don’t know much about him, but I understand the wolf leader in Las Vegas sent him. Graham—that’s the wolf alpha’s name—says Ben is good at what he does—too good, which is why Graham wanted him out of there.”

“What is he?” Kendrick went on. “I’ve never scented anything like him. And what is it he’s good at?”

“No idea. Want me to find out?”