True Nature (17 page)

Hunter was up against some fierce odds. He was especially saddened—and disheartened—by the death of Shamus. Tomorrow they would bury Grandda’s main man in the estate cemetery. Shamus trained Craig, but the older man knew more about these pursuers than anyone beside Fraser. Perhaps that was why Shamus had to die, to render Hunter more vulnerable.

Hunter braced his elbows on the desk. Was it only days ago that his main worry had been how to score with a hot redhead at a doughnut shop? Or how to avoid Mandy’s husband? Now he was burying another of his clan and plotting how to kill his enemies.

He sighed. Did that make him a good guy or a bad guy?

He wasn’t a pillar of any community. He was impatient with talk of duty. Certainly, he had no interest in the firm Fraser founded and Stirling had turned into an empire.

Hell, the most he’d ever done that came close to being charitable was buy two hundred boxes of Girl Scout cookies every year. And that was because he loved Do-Si-Dos and Tagalongs. Zoe picked out their pro bono cases. He didn’t look for those who needed his help. Now lots of people depended on him. Not just his family, but Craig, Evan, and other men and women and their families. He was now the MacRae, they had told him. The MacRae.

Hunter rubbed his eyes. He needed rest and exercise to build his strength. But most of all, he needed to get his life in order to understand how he was supposed to go on living despite Michael Killin’s death wish for him and his people.

That started now, Hunter decided as he stood and walked to the bookshelf that housed the entire Sherlock Holmes collection. He pulled out
The Valley of Fear
, and the shelf opened without a sound, revealing a room filled with everything needed for guerilla warfare. Craig had revealed this room last night.

Hunter scanned the array of weapons. Now that the lawyers were out of the way, he would join the security detail patrolling the estate. They searched for signs of Chymera all day, but found nothing. Hunter would meet them after dinner. He wanted to begin as human, to see if and how Chymera reacted. The guards had AR-15 rifles with night scopes. Did the monster prowl only at night?

What if he appeared as Killin, as the human? Hunter studied the secret room full of guns. He hadn’t thought how to react if he faced a human. Would the men shoot to kill?

It was something to discuss with Craig. Hunter put on a side holster and shoved his favorite nine-millimeter Beretta into it.

He laughed softly. No wonder Zoe liked wearing her gun. He felt powerful and invincible. Zoe could outshoot him though. She was at the gun range at least once a month doing target practice. If the bad guys got in her sights, they’d go down with one shot.

He walked back into the study and pushed the bookshelf back in place. He needed food to get through the night, so he headed to the kitchen. In the foyer, however, his father called out to him. He found Stirling alone, watching the Bloomberg channel on an eighty-inch television in the den.

That’s entertainment.

“Where are you going?” Stirling asked, sipping a tall gin and tonic. Hunter raised an eyebrow at that. Stirling didn’t drink often.

“Out to do a security check.”

“Why the hell are you doing that?” his father asked and stood. “Those people know what they’re doing. That’s why they’re here. You’re the head of the estate now. Do you think your grandfather went out patrolling with his hired help?”

Hunter rested his hands on his hips. “Yes. I can’t see him waiting quietly with a threat like we have now.”

Stirling’s face went red, and he snarled a curse. “Oh, right, because he was the great shapeshifter, sworn to protect the family’s secret. And now it’s your job.” Spitting out another curse, he threw his crystal glass to shatter in the fireplace.

The move stunned Hunter. His father never lost that steely control. Was he angry that Hunter about the will? In silence, Hunter watched Stirling stalk to the bar and pour himself another drink.

“You know what happened to Grandda and Shamus,” Hunter said quietly. “We have to take control of this situation.”

“If Father had let me deal with Michael Killin, perhaps I could have bested him in the boardroom. If he weren’t so successful in both worlds, would he pose such a threat?”

Hunter paused, surprised by the bitter tone in his father’s voice.

“We’re in trouble now because your grandfather was too stupid to kill Michael Angus Killen, Chymera’s grandfather, when he had the chance,” Stirling said. “When your grandfather and Angus fought, they were true gentlemen. Each allowed the other to walk away. Now the Killins have multiplied like animals, their leader is ruthless, and our backs are against the wall.”

Stirling surprised Hunter again as he set down his drink and reached for one of the Bradmore swords on the wall. He took a fighting stance, waving the sword through the air with a skill that Hunter had never seen.

“I was a fencing champion at Harvard,” Stirling said.

“You never told me that.”

“I do most of my thrusting and lunging with words and money now, but at one time, I was the national champion.” He moved out of his stance and studied the sword.

Hunter saw such sadness in his father’s eyes that he felt heaviness in his own chest. His father was grieving just as much as he was, only he couldn’t let loose of his control in order to show it.

When Stirling looked back at Hunter, he picked up his drink again. “Go play soldier with your little friends.” He toasted Hunter with his glass and returned to his seat in front of the big television.

Hunter wondered if he should suggest his father come with them. He couldn’t imagine such a thing, however, so he left, calling Craig as he walked toward the kitchen at the rear of the house.

****

Hunter could smell Chymera, but tonight there were no cries rending the air. He didn’t feel the dark presence of evil as he had before. But still, there was…something out here in the night.

His security force was dressed in black. Many had blackened their faces in order to blend with the night. They looked menacing. Hunter felt confident. Evan carried a formidable looking crossbow.

Hunter now knew the Egans had worked for the MacRaes for centuries. Their roots went back to the same little village in the Highlands, though they were not shapeshifters.

The Egans and their descendants lived according to the Marcian Statutes, handed down from the goddess and warrior, Marcia Proba. She believed in equality and knew that women were truly as strong as men. A Celtic warrior queen who lived around the third century, BCE, her Statutes were purported to be the guide for the Magna Carta, though the latter document refused to recognize women as equals to men.

The two families joined forces when the big cats of the MacRae family saved the Egans’ homeland from being seized. In return, the Egans promised to be warriors and protectors of the MacRae secrets. There were three husband-and-wife teams in the security force.

Hunter had complete faith in Craig Egan, knowing Craig and his wife Bree knew the estate well and supervised the guards with a ruthless discipline. Craig handed out assignments for the two-person teams as they began their search.

Partnered with Craig, Hunter stayed close. The night was cold and cloudless, the moon rising in the sky. They walked cautiously through the dense greenery, making as little noise as possible. Night vision goggles made it easy to see. Occasionally Hunter heard whispered reports in his earpiece, but he didn’t use the mic on his jacket lapel.

Hours passed. At the west side of the estate, Hunter stilled when he heard movement in the nearby bushes. He was alone. Craig had moved to the left. He raised his rifle, focusing on the spot in the thick shrubbery. The bushes moved again, and Hunter watched in horror as an angry beast rose up on two legs. With its teeth bared and its claws released, it reminded him of nothing less than a demon.

Though it had stocky human legs, the upper body was covered with a shaggy mane and the blonde fur of a full-grown lion. There was a rumble deep in the animal’s chest as he gazed at Hunter hungrily, licking his lips with anticipation.

There was no roar as the animal advanced on him. Hunter froze. Hearing stories of this beast had in no way prepared him for seeing it live in front of him.

A tiny movement to the left put Craig in Hunter’s peripheral vision and he stole a quick glance at the other man. Though Craig showed no shock at what he was seeing, Hunter’s stomach clenched again.

They were facing his grandfather’s murderer.

Chapter 13

I was having a good time. I was in a restaurant with a very good-looking man who wasn’t my best friend.

I admit it. I was pretty turned on.

It had been a long, dry spell. I mean, the last time I felt this way was when I was watching a Ben Affleck movie. You can guess how that ended. But as I sat beside Mike Scala, enjoying food and some sexy repartee, I sensed my luck was about to change.

The evening had started well. I had time after leaving Lydia and the girls to go home, shower, and do my make-up and hair. This was a definite improvement over my previous meetings with Mike. I dressed in my best and tightest jeans and the red cashmere sweater Margaret gave me for Christmas. I knew her personal shopper had probably picked up one in every color for the unimportant people on her list, but this color looked good against my fair skin and dark hair.

Maybe it was the clothes, maybe it was the mascara and red lipstick, but Mike seemed to be enjoying the view. I beamed in return, because he looked nothing short of delicious in black jeans, a cable knit sweater, and a bomber jacket. He was sexy, confident and tough. I liked that combination, especially in a real man instead of an image on the screen.

He was sitting close, helping me finish off my Pollo Parmigiana. We were at an intimate restaurant called Gabriel’s instead of the casual place he mentioned last night. It was a more romantic setting. Gradually, while we drank wine and made our way through bread and salad and entrees, his chair had moved closer to mine, until the side of his leg was pressing against my thigh. I normally don’t share food with strangers, but the butterflies in my stomach were fluttering so hard, my appetite was off.

“You look nice.” Mike leaned in closer. “And you smell wonderful.” He had been saying things like that since he picked me up.

“I think that’s the garlic,” I joked in return. “And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“So, not sorry you came out with me?”

“I love Gabriel’s. Thanks.”

He slanted a sideways look at me. “I was wondering if you liked the company.”

I’m really not the best at romantic chitchat, which might explain my dry spell. Instead of cooing something back Mike’s way, I said, “I thought we’d talk about Kinley’s case.”

Mike burst out laughing as I blushed almost as scarlet as my sweater.

He made me feel better, however, by teasing, “So you’re just going to use me for information?”

“Of course not,” I said, still flustered. Where were the witty remarks when I needed them?

“That’s good” He leaned back in his chair to study me. “You know I can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

“I know Eric killed her. I’d like to help prove it.”

“Leave the investigation up to us. We’re doing everything we can.”

“I’m sure you are,” I replied, already regretting losing the flirtatious mood. “But I feel responsible.”

His gaze sharpened. “Why?”

“Hunter and I promised to keep her safe.”

“We’re pursuing any and all leads, including Eric.”

“Other leads?” My interest quickened. “You can tell me about them. It’s not like I’m just a civilian. I’m a licensed investigator.”

“In my eyes, you’re a civilian. I’m not discussing the case with you.”

“I had a professional relationship with Kinley.”

Mike leaned forward and took away the knife I was waving around. “I asked you out because I felt a special connection with you. I thought you were interested, too. Did I read you wrong? Are you and Mr. MacRae more than just business partners?”

It was a minute before I realized he was asking about my relationship with Hunter. I wasn’t used to anyone calling him Mr. MacRae. Now I laughed. “Oh, we’re much more than business partners.”

The detective frowned, not reassured.

“Hunter’s my best friend,” I explained. “We’ve been a dynamic duo since middle school. A nerd and nerdette who became business partners.”

“I can’t imagine you as a nerd,” Mike replied.

“Oh, I had the braces, the wild hair, and the thick glasses.” I bit my lip, willing myself to shut up. Why in the world would I paint myself as a dork to this man?

“Your partner definitely grew out of his nerdiness. Word around town is that he’s quite a ladies’ man. Rich, too.”

I took a sip of wine. Just as I feared, Mike had investigated Hunter thoroughly.

“Yes, Hunter’s family is very rich.”

“And he practices family law just for fun, right?”

“Hunter enjoys his work.” And meeting attractive women.

“But he doesn’t have to work.”

“No.”

“Must be nice.”

“He works hard.”

“He left town and hasn’t returned.”

“His grandfather passed away unexpectedly.”

I felt my confessing compulsion come to life. If I didn’t shut up I’d be telling him everything about a shifter and a seer. Shit, what was I doing here with a cop?

“Naturally, I ran background checks after Friday night,” Mike continued. “I knew about his grandfather’s death.”

I shot him a look.

He had the grace to squirm under my stare. “That sounded like I’m a stalker. And I’m not. I just…” He paused and grinned at me. “You found a body. I had to check you out.”

I nodded. I knew about the details of an investigation. “Anything more happen with that poor guy we found? You said his name was Dugard.”

“His family arrived yesterday and made arrangements to take him home.”

I frowned. “That’s kind of quick to release a murder victim’s body, isn’t it?”

“I told you he had connections to law enforcement.” Mike frowned. “Orders to release the body came straight from the top. The autopsy was complete, so we let it go. Cause of death was evident.”