Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10) (5 page)

Someplace out of sight. Out of your way, was his immediate answer. Head in the game, echoed Silas’s warning.

But he lost himself in her steady stare.

“Oh, hell.”

CHAPTER THREE

In three long strides, Cale snatched her up against his chest, crushing her close to the anxious rhythm of his heartbeats. “With me,” he claimed roughly. “You’ll stay with me.” As simple as that. Where else?

“I love you, Cale. I’ve missed you so.”

Everything inside him melted into ridiculously gooey happiness. With her face nestled against his neck, Cale put his hand to her head, threading his fingers through its short wavy length. He gave a slight tug.

“I like this.”

Her fingertip traced the thin line of hair on his upper lip and chin. “I’m not sure about this yet.”

“It’ll grow on you,” he murmured contentedly.

“Not if it continues to grow on you.” She fell silent, rubbing his empty earlobe, mood pensive.

“It’s somewhere safe,” he assured. “I’m not a Terriot king here in New Orleans.”

“But you’re sleeping with his bonded female.”

“Shame on you for betraying me with some lowly dock hand.”

“How could I help myself? He’s such a hottie.” She chuckled and pushed slightly away. “You’re right. You do stink.”

That made him laugh when he’d begun to fear nothing ever would again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”  His gruff honesty broke their tension at last. They nestled together for a moment longer before he had to ask. “Why?”

She tipped her head back to look at him. “Why what?”

“Why did you shanghai my brothers and go through so much trouble to get here?”

“Your brothers didn’t need any convincing. Please don’t be angry with them.”

He gave her chin a pinch. “Who could deny you anything when your mind’s made up, and you’ve got that big-eyed thing going on?” He still smiled but his gaze grew intense. “Why, Katy?”

“You’ll think I’m foolish.”

“No, I won’t.”

Big dark eyes fixed on his. “Because you need me here.”

Cale didn’t move, didn’t blink, or even draw a breath.

Flushing slightly, Kendra hurried on. “I know you told me everything was fine, but I had to come and see for myself.”

“And what do you see?” he asked quietly.

“That I wasn’t wrong, even if you won’t tell me what is.”

She watched his features closely. He gave so little away. But the slight snag in his inhalation confirmed her fears.

“I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled at his claim. “Yes, you do, or I wouldn’t have come all this way. I brought you something. Close your eyes.”

Puzzled, even cautious, he did so, waiting, brow slightly furrowed for her to withdraw the sealed bag she carried and open it beneath his nose. “Something from home. Breathe in.”

He inhaled, then again more sharply, releasing a sigh. His eyes opened. He took the bag she’d filled with soil and needles and took another leisurely draw, letting the aroma of mountain pine fill his senses.

His kiss wasn’t dramatic or passionate or even sensual. Her emotions trembled at its sweetness. Finally, he whispered, “Thank you,” against her lips. “You have no idea how much I needed that. I’ve been missing home. Missing you.”

And her worry notched a degree higher, prompting her to ask, “Why are you still here?” She couldn’t mistake the instant veiling of his mood.

“Ask Silas. It’s his game. I’m just along for the ride.”

“Who was that handsy fellow at the club?” When his expression tightened, she pushed, “He’s a danger to you. Don’t try telling me I’m wrong about that.”

“No. You’re not wrong,” he admitted in a flat voice that terrified her. “A player. A criminal. A predator. I don’t know yet. That’s what your cousin wants me to find out.”

“Why do you have to? Why can’t Silas take care of him?”

“Because he looks at my ass the same way you do.” He grinned, but she wasn’t amused. She was even more alarmed.“I’ve got to take a load off, baby. My feet are killing me. I may look hot in smelly work clothes, but I’m damned out of shape when it comes to eight hours on the job.”

He steered them to one of the comfy leather sofas and dropped down on its cushions, positioning her on his lap. Her arms looping loosely about his neck, she snuggled against his shoulder, aware he was guiding her away from the question of Lee but allowing it for the moment.

Brushing her newly bobbed hair with his lips, he murmured, “How are things at home?” Longing pooled like deep waters in his voice.

“Wesley’s holding the reins for you. Rosie’s decided he’d be her perfect match.”

He smiled, picturing Kendra’s silly friend, trying not to remember she was James’s cousin. “Poor bastard. And is she the one who encouraged your new look?”

“Maybe. Maybe I just wanted to catch your attention.”

A chuckle vibrated through his chest. “You don’t need to cut your hair for that. But I confess, I was more than a little intrigued by one thing.” His forefinger rubbed over her hip bone. “I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet.”

“Later, my lusty king.” She slapped at his hand then tightly clutched it. As his long fingers laced between hers, she lifted his arm to examine the new design flowing like flames over the back of his hand from beneath the turned back cuff of his work shirt. “And what’s this?” Her forefinger traced the boldly tribal black and red lines.

“Local color. Just trying to blend in. I kinda like it. I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.” His voice purred persuasively. “Later can’t come soon enough.”

“And where will that later take place? Not at Silas’s, I presume.”

“I think I wore out my welcome there, at least until I replace the coffee table.” He grinned at the remembered circumstances then his mood quieted. “I’ve been kinda going from here to there since I left Savoie’s place. For the moment, home is on a sofa in my sister’s den.”

“Sister?” Her head lifted, questioning him with her gaze.

“The one Silas and I share. My half-sister on my father’s side, his on his mother’s. Tina Babineau. She’s a human cop’s wife. Go figure. You’ll like them.”

But she wasn’t thinking about family beyond the one she planned to make with the prince, now king, who’d claimed her as his own. She slid a knee across one rock hard thigh to straddle him. His immediate response encouraged an amorous turn of mood.

“I’m sure I will. But not tonight. Tonight I’m thinking a private room with a big shower and a bigger bed.”

His gaze locked on hers, lids lowering slightly over a heated glimmer. “I like the way you think, my queen.”

A quick knock on the door jarred them from that mental destination. Nica peered in without apology.

“Three loud, obnoxious brutes are out front demanding to see you.” She swept Cale with a disparaging look. “The resemblance is obvious. I’ll bring them up before they break anything else you have to pay for.”

When she ducked out, Cale sighed, hands kneading his mate’s backside restlessly. “Who said it was good to be king?”

“I believe you did.”

Her teasing made him groan as he settled her onto the cushions beside him. “How much trouble could they get into?”

“Your brothers? In New Orleans?”

Point taken.

With Kendra silently observing, Cale rose to greet the trio, accepting their bone grinding hand clasps and rough one armed hugs with an open affection she wouldn’t have believed possible only short months ago. Then, under the rule of their ruthless father, his sons were cautious strangers competing for a coveted crown. And her virginity as a means to claim it. The memory of their determined eagerness to bed and breed her hadn’t been easy for Kendra to overcome, until they’d stood by their new king and protected his queen. In that moment, they’d become her family.

They filled the room with their rowdy presence, reminding her of a pack of highly trained hunting hounds, fierce and deadly when on the scent but rambunctious when unleashed. So similar yet so far apart, all three had the trademark Terriot red cast to their hair with Bram’s strong features and towering height, but differed in their approach to their world.

The youngest, Kip, clearly worshipped the older brother who’d tutored him in combat and placed him beneath a protective care Cale, himself, had never known. Barely twenty-one, Kip regarded life through wide blue eyes with a naïve curiosity maturity would soon strip away. Kendra saw in him the best their clan’s future offered—honesty, compassion, and strength. Hiding his inexperience behind an expensive Frat boy wardrobe and the reddish stubble on his innocent face, he plopped down at Cale’s side, sitting up straighter beneath the fond drape of his brother’s arm.

Frederick, who preferred the nickname Rico, sprawled on the adjacent couch, filling the space with out-flung arms and restless energy, while Colin moved to stand at the one-way glass overlooking the bar area below, his arms folded across his chest, his posture ready and wary. Those poses said everything about them.

His sigh-inducing build concealed by bulky hoodie and baggy board shorts, Rico was the family’s wildly explosive daredevil whose hot temper and beckoning grin both challenged and seduced. The unassuming Colin, with his world-weary green eyes, military cut, and indifferently assembled wardrobe, hid what he was inside—a tightly packed weapon of incredible power contained by thoughtful reason and distancing reflection.

Dogs of War. That’s how the Twelve of the House of Terriot had seen themselves. Born to compete, bred to achieve regardless of method or right, they’d been raised by their separate mothers to conquer and rule. The only time they were in harmony was when faced with an outside foe. Until Cale had said “Stand beside me” instead of “Bow before me.”

“Can you trust them?” she’d asked Cale when he’d begun his reign as their clan’s king.

“I want to,” was his reply. “But I won’t be sure until the moment they betray me.”

Not much to hold onto. Kendra wanted to trust them, too.  Not just for her mate’s safety but to fill the empty ache left by those who’d died and leaving her alone in a dangerous world with only her cousins Silas and Brigit and the memory of a boy’s vows to hold her shattered dreams together.

Dreams she desperately needed to come true.

“So,” Colin began with his quiet intensity, attention divided between his brother and movement on the club’s floor below. “How goes the negotiations, my king?”

Cale had told them he’d come to New Orleans in hopes of brokering a truce between the clans. He hadn’t lied about the purpose, only the method.

“Rueben’s been difficult to bring to the table. He says he’s interested in hearing what we have to say but’s in no hurry to do a face-to-face.”

“The word of a Guedry is like a fart,” Rico muttered. “It’s loud and smells in the middle of company, then is quick to disappear with no one willing to take the blame for it.”

Kip caught back his appreciative laugh when Cale scowled in his direction before continuing.

“My guess is he’s waiting for Savoie’s return. Louisiana is the prize he’s interested in, not Nevada. He’d blow us off the planet if he could. He wants control of the transportation here in New Orleans. Or at least concessions to it.”

“And we’re okay with that?” Rico growled. “Since when?”

“Since we need their cooperation to stand against a greater outside threat. One I’ve just recently come up against.” He subconsciously flexed his untattooed hand, drawing Kendra’s notice to the ugly scarring across its back. A bite? He gave a slight start when she placed hers over it and began to trace along the savage marks with the gentle stroke of her thumb.

Colin’s indolent pose became one of territorial bristling as he demanded, “What threat? Another clan?”

Cale glanced his way, shaking his head. “No. Something different. Boogeymen we haven’t believed in since we were children. But now I know they’re all too real.”

“Because of what MacCreedy’s told you?” Colin snorted. “He’s got no love for our clan even though he shares part of the bloodline. What makes you so sure he’s not drawing us into his fight to use as cannon fodder?”

Kendra sensed a slight hesitation before Cale answered.  Was that what he believed?  That Silas held him out front as a shield so her mate would take all the punishing blows? She wanted to deny it in her heart, but her rational mind knew it could be true. If Cale was aware of it, why did he allow it?  The image of Casper Lee’s hand stroking along Cale’s shoulders came back to her with a chill.

“I’m sure,” Cale told him, “because we have something he’d do anything to protect.” His gaze fell to Kendra’s, holding it fixed with the solemnity of his own. “As would I.”

For her? He was risking all for her?

“Any news on Jamie?” Kip asked quietly. “Is he part of the reason you’re here?”

“Have you heard anything from Row?” Rico sat up, suddenly all sharp attention.

Cale shook his head. “Nothing yet. But James and those two bitches are here, somewhere close by. And they won’t take me by surprise a second time.”

James Terriot, second son of Bram, had formed an alliance with their father’s mistress Martine. She’d vowed to use her mystic knowledge of herbs to poison her lover and Cale, his chosen heir, to give James control of the clan . . . as long as he made her daughter Sylvia his queen. When their treachery was discovered, a desperate James had taken things into his hands by figuratively and literally stabbing his brother in the back so he and the females could escape in the confusion.

Kendra had sent the stoic and methodical Turow Terriot to hunt them down while she held the tentative union of brothers together until her mate recovered. The determination she’d felt in those anxious days while fearing her love would die had strengthened her to assume the role of their clan’s queen, and the support she’d received from those in this room would never be forgotten.

“We have your back this time,” Colin assured with a somber ferocity. “That’s why we’re here. How can we help you?”

Overwhelmed by his claim, Cale couldn’t answer right away.  Finally, he assured them gruffly, “You just did. By being here. By pledging your trust and protecting my queen.”