“And pregnant. He hates females in authority.”
Cassidy brightened. “Even more insulting, then.”
“No, Cass,” Diego said before Eric could answer. Diego’s voice was hard, and he gave the meat a vicious stir, dark eyes on Cassidy.
Cassidy looked at her mate, mouth open to say more, then she closed it, went to Diego, and snuggled up against his side. “Thank you,” she said.
“I agree with Diego,” Eric said. “It’s tempting to rub McNeil’s face in it, but, no. We can’t predict what he’d do. I’ll meet him—I want to know what he’s up to.”
First, though, Eric had to make sure Iona’s scent was completely off him.
A female heavy with child would have the strongest scent, so Eric went to Cassidy, peeled her away from Diego, and pulled her into another hug.
Then again, he just loved his sister. They’d been through so much together—hardship and good times, joy and grief, always there for each other. Eric held Cassidy for a long time, rubbing her back and kissing her hair, while she hugged him in return without question.
Eric released Cassidy and hugged Jace again, his love for his son pouring through him.
Jace returned the hug but looked at Eric in puzzlement when they drew apart. “Love you too, Dad. What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just wanting time with my family.” Eric grinned at his brother-in-law and spread his arms. “Diego.”
Diego brought up his cooking fork. “Back off, Eric.”
Eric did, still chuckling, and he left the house to find Graham.
G raham McNeil approached the meeting place in the common ground that ran between Shifter backyards, knowing damn well that Warden would never agree to talk to him anywhere but there.
An old picnic table with one bench sat in a weedy spot out in the open, away from the mesquites that lined the long open space. Graham knew why Eric had chosen it—the table could be watched by any number of Shifters out their back windows, even in the moonlight.
Eric’s Shifters, that is. If Graham so much as raised his voice to Eric, those Shifters would come out in force. Which was why Graham always stationed a few of the wolves he’d been allowed to bring from Elko at certain intervals, watching for trouble.
By the time Graham approached the meeting place, Eric was already there, his ass planted on top of the picnic table, moonlight picking out his black tattoo. As always, the man sat stone still, watching Graham with the confidence of a predator who knew he ruled this patch.
Let Warden pin him with his stare all he wanted. When Graham challenged for leadership and won, he’d gouge out those weird green eyes and play marbles with them.
Graham stopped about two yards from the picnic table, out of Eric’s reach, Eric out of his. No challenges tonight.
Eric stank of his sister and her unborn cub—the Shiftertown leader was ecstatic about his sister giving birth to a half human, half Shifter. He had to be out of his mind.
Warden didn’t ask what Graham wanted. That would acknowledge that Eric had come because he wanted to know what Graham had to say.
Graham didn’t want to talk about leadership tonight, though. His nephew’s behavior this afternoon had reminded him of a need, and also reminded him that this Shiftertown provided him a good opportunity to fill it.
“My nephew’s an idiot,” Graham said without greeting. “I disciplined him for the attack on your bear.”
If Eric was surprised, he hid it well. He acknowledged the apology with a nod.
“But his asshole-ness brought home to me how much I need an heir,” Graham said. “A son. And for that I need a mate. So I want you to provide me one.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
E ric didn’t blink, but Graham scented the amazement that jolted through the Feline’s body. He hadn’t been expecting that.
After a deliberate silence, Eric asked, “Why can’t you mate with someone from your own Shiftertown?”
“Because the only surviving females belong to my clan, too closely related to
C. J. Cherryh
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