Shifters, Secrets & Surprises Page 16

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, voice gentle… but edged.

  “My family means everything to me. I owe Dad and Meredith a lot.” She met his eyes. “They took me in. Dad’s Den, they didn’t care I was human. Dad said I was his, so that made me theirs.” She glanced away. “I didn’t have family until I met them.”

  “I don’t think your father wants you to feel beholden to him. No father who loves his daughter would.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I know what I owe.” And she would pay. She would make the price of raising her worth it.

  He tilted his head, expression intense. “You love your family. What would you do for them?”

  She didn’t understand why he asked, but she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t prevaricate.

  What would she do for her family? “I would die for them. I would kill.”

  He grinned, a fierce flash of white teeth. Not from humor, but from understanding. It hummed between them, a sudden, fierce meeting of minds. For a moment, she felt as if he saw into her, understood her. For a moment, she felt as if she knew him – always had.

  And then the moment was gone. But his hand slid across the table and he grasped her wrist. “I think you are a female worth having. Worth keeping.”

  Oh… oh, shit. She knew what it meant when a Bear male got that look on his face. She’d seen it plenty of times in the Den as couples mated. Rebekah swallowed, pushing down the surge of acceptance, and pulled her wrist away.

  “Thanks.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, eyes narrowing when a cell went off. Daamin paused, excusing himself with a flick of his finger. Rebekah politely turned her attention to her soup, giving him the social version of privacy – where she pretended like she wasn’t listening, but was busy thinking very important, engrossing thoughts. Rebekah snorted.

  “Talia, why are you-” he stopped speaking, listening to the female on the other side of the conversation.

  Rebekah couldn’t hear what was said, but she heard the repressed panic in a young adult female voice. She glanced up, watching his face. It went blank, but his eyes burned.

  “I’m on my way,” he said. “Stay in the office.”

  Rebekah rose, pulling cash out of her pocket and throwing it on the table. “What’s wrong?” she asked. He began to stride out of the cafe, Rebekah on his heels. “Daamin – what’s wrong?”

  He paused, impatience wild across his face, and then the emotion was gone, controlled. “Rebekah, I’m sorry. My sister is in danger, I have to go to her.”

  Anger surged. “I’m going with you!”

  She didn’t know why she cared. Why her own sense of protectiveness rumbled in her chest. Except that she’d been a teenage girl in trouble once and a near stranger had come to her aid.

  “It’s not you-”

  “I was in trouble once, and a stranger helped me.” She grabbed his wrist, pulling him out of the cafe. “We’re wasting time. I’ll ride with you, and if there’s trouble, I’ve got your back.”

  He yanked her to a halt, whirling her against his chest with restrained violence. Startled, Rebekah had no time to react as lips covered hers in a fierce, drugging kiss. No more than a few seconds; but those seconds branded her.

  “A female worth keeping,” he said.

  And they ran.

  Chapter Six

  Daamin drove like a Dragon shifter – that was, without regard to the laws of speed and mortality. Rebekah gritted her teeth and told herself to stop being a pansy, refusing to clutch the door handle. While driving, he activated the Bluetooth and spoke in rapid fire Arabic to Asiane. The conversation was short, their tones crisp.

  “We go to pick up the older girls,” he said after disconnecting the call. “Asiane and her security will pick up our younger sisters.”

  “Is your entire family in danger?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but we will take too many precautions rather than too few.”

  In a short time, he’d navigated the city and brought them to a high school, parking and jumping out barely after the car engine was shut down. Rebekah followed. She didn’t have shifter speed and strength, but she was toned and fast on her feet and the self-defense training kept her limber.

  He crashed through the wide double doors of the school, students flinging themselves out of his way as he led them to the main office.

  Rebekah saw his sisters – the females could be no one else – right away. Slender girls on the cusp of adulthood, dressed in jeggings and long flowing tunics, sheer scarves wrapped aimlessly over their heads. Glossy black hair peeked out, telling Rebekah the scarves were either for decoration or token adherence to cultural tradition. Wide dark eyes glanced over and both girls stood, rushing to Daamin.

  “I told them to call the police, but they don’t believe us!”

  The girls looked pissed, one a little more shaken than the other.

  “You’ll both come with me,” he said.

  A school official approached. “Sir, are you their parent?”

  Rebekah stifled a snort. Did he look like a freakin’ parent? Though she supposed if the school knew they were shifters, it was a reasonable question.

  He pinned the woman with a hard stare. “I’m their brother. Have the police been called?”

  “No one actually saw-”

  “So are you calling my sisters liars?”

  Rebekah ran her tongue along her teeth. The woman might want to choose her next words carefully.

  “No, of course not. But teenage girls-”

  He didn’t remain, instead turning and ushering the girls in front of him. One slid away, dashing back to the chairs to grab two backpacks while the other bumped herself up under her brother’s arm.

  “You’ll be fine, Faridah,” he soothed. “We go hunting.”

  Hunting sounded good. She was down for that.

  The girl slanted a glance at Rebekah. “Who are you?”

  “Backup,” she replied. “I’m Rebekah, Clan Conroy.”

  Faridah stared. “You’re human.”

  “I’m adopted. I know Asiane, too.” Not quite true, but she could tell the girl needed reassurances. Rebekah could read between the lines and determine she’d been the victim of some kind of almost assault – she wouldn’t want strangers near her right now.

  The answer satisfied Faridah and the twin glanced at Rebekah as she approached, saying nothing. But she’d heard.

  Rebekah glanced at Daamin as they walked out. He stared at her, expression… odd.

  “Conroy?” he asked.

  She frowned. “Yeah. It’s a good Clan.”

  “I know. I-” he paused, shook his head. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  “Describe the vehicle,” Daamin said as they left the building.

  “Blue mini-van, tinted windows,” Faridah said, a tremble in her voice. “Some rust around the tires – I don’t think it was new. It looked like a mom car, so I didn’t think anything when it pulled up.”

  “I went back to our lockers to get our jackets – it was making the humans nervous that we didn’t have them on,” the other said.

  Daamin sighed. “Talia – you have to remember things like that. Blending in is one of the best defenses we have.”

  Rebekah listened closely to the conversation. It was cold enough out that two girls sitting nonchalantly in thin tunics and fluttery scarves would be noticed, like hot house roses blooming merrily in a block of ice. And these days anyone who looked a little ‘odd’ was immediately labeled a shifter. Bigger cities like Seattle were more tolerant… but this was Tacoma.

  “The male who tried to grab me looked like from home, Daamin,” Faridah said, voice firming. Maybe because her twin started to retort. Rebekah sympathized. Sometimes you had to drag people back on topic.

  “Describe him.”

  Faridah ran down the description, thorough for a high school girl – even an older high school girl. Rebekah guessed they had to be seniors, but still. How many senior girls coul
d give a professional sounding description of a perp?

  “We’ll drive around,” Daamin said. “Maybe they are still in the area, though I doubt it.”

  “We only got her away ‘cause he was trying to be sneaky,” Talia said. “I heard her screaming and ran, roaring. He let her go.”

  “I don’t think he was expecting those moves you showed me,” Faridah said.

  “Good.”

  “Were they defensive?” Rebekah asked.

  They piled into the car, Rebekah taking a seat in the back so Faridah could sit next to her brother.

  “Yes,” Talia said. “We aren’t warriors. We know enough to stall until help comes.”

  Rebekah tried to see Daamin’s face around the seat. “I know some holds I had to learn to use against shifters – I could show you. Maybe next time you can restrain the guy until help comes so he can’t get away with this.”

  There was silence in the car for a few minutes. Rebekah wasn’t dumb – she knew there was something going on here other than some perv trying to lure a teen into a car. These Bears had enemies, and were hiding out, trying to keep a low profile. But whatever their Den may or may not have done, teenage girls weren’t to blame.

  “I appreciate the offer,” Daamin said, words slow as if he were choosing them carefully. “But I do not want to embroil you in our Den’s troubles.”

  She should leave it at that. She’d done the right thing, made the offer. It was none of her business – she had her own Den, her own issues to deal with. She didn’t know these people, and had no ties of loyalty of friendship to them.

  “I’ve been in trouble like that a time or two,” she said, repeating her earlier words. “I’d like to help – but I don’t want to force myself into your Den business. But… I’d like to help. Pay forward the help I’ve gotten, you know?”

  He glanced at her, and Rebekah suppressed a wince and the impulse to tell him to keep his eyes on the road.

  “Come to dinner,” Talia said. “Let Mama decide.”

  “Talia-”

  “I think that’s a good idea, Daamin,” Faridah chimed in. “We need allies. We’ve been too alone for too long.”

  Daamin sighed. “Just the day, hmm?”

  Rebekah grinned. “That was personal, this is just Den business.”

  * * *

  They drove the perimeter of the school, circling further and further out before Daamin declared the search over. He headed towards his home. Rebekah took the time to check her phone for any messages from C.C. A notification popped up. She read the terse message, citing a family emergency and that he would contact her to reschedule soon.

  Typical. Just typical. “I really hate unprofessional people,” Rebekah said, stabbing her finger at the screen. She replied, a message just short of scathing, and slid the phone in her pocket.

  “What’s wrong?” Daamin asked.

  “This guy I’m supposed to meet for my job, I’ve been trying to corner him for weeks for a meeting so we can get the project – which happens to be on a deadline – rolling and he cancelled again. I’m tempted to call the whole thing off and tell him to go bite himself.”

  “Ah. Well, hopefully it will resolve itself soon,” he said.

  “Well, that leaves me free until he contacts me. If he follows form, it won’t be for a day or two.”

  “Then I have you all to myself.”

  Rebekah remained silent the rest of the trip, realizing she was getting too involved. She could lie to herself and insist her motivations were solely to help the girls with whatever trouble was going on. But it was a lie. She wanted to spend more time with Daamin, enjoyed his solid warmth and shifter sex appeal. Wanted to feel his lips and arms again. Wanted to explore the growing feeling of rightness.

  But she couldn’t go back on her promise to Gwenafar. Maybe if Daamin… he was a Bear, too, after all… but thinking along those lines was pure fantasy. She shoved the thought away.

  The house they pulled up to was in a solid middle class neighborhood, the kind of two-story nondescript frame house with a tall wood fence that any average family might live in. Nothing extravagant to indicate the family was wealthy, and nothing to indicate the inhabitants were Bears. It was so Americana – the perfect disguise.

  He pulled into a garage and they all got out. As they walked up to the connecting door, nerves attacked. Rebekah hung back a bit, waiting for Daamin’s invitation to enter.

  The male turned towards her when she fell back, and took her hand, again lifting it to his lips. “Come in, Rebekah. You’re welcome in our home.”

  It felt like the words meant more than a simple polite social assurance. It felt… she couldn’t describe the feeling, other than to say that the last time she’d felt so… settled… was when Meredith and Liam had told her she would be staying with them.

  Her heart sank. But she walked in, meeting his eyes for a brief, searing moment.

  Female voices rose in a jumble of foreign words, lilting vowels and sharp, guttural consonants. Rapid fire speech from an older female voice. Daamin led her through the kitchen, Rebekah getting only a swift look at a well-appointed, bright room with a recently remodeled magazine look off an open living-dining room combo.

  A female in a long dress, wide sleeves with dense embroidery, her dark hair pulled back into a braid, turned. Sharp black eyes pinned Rebekah, sweeping over her in a thorough look before turning to Daamin.

  “Speak English, please, mother,” he said.

  The female switched languages. “This cannot be tolerated. I didn’t want the girls in a public school, and I was right!”

  “We’ll keep them home.” He pulled out his cell, then shut it away at the sound of another vehicle entering the garage. “That is Asiane.”

  His eldest sister entered the home a moment later with tween girls, bursting through the doors and talking fast.

  “English,” Daamin yelled over the sudden noise of six females talking.

  “Security is posted in the neighborhood and outside,” Asiane said. She turned her head to look at Rebekah. “Is there something I should know?”

  “Rebekah offered aid on behalf of her Den.”

  Asiane glanced at him, expression hard. Rebekah said nothing. It was a teeny, tiny, white lie – but, technically, she supposed he could get away with it. She was an official member of a Den, and she had offered aid. Traditionally, a Den might back a member up in disputes and then ask questions later behind closed doors. Shifters maintained strength by presenting a unified front.

  “What aid?” Asiane asked.

  “I’m trained in self-defense,” Rebekah said. “I offered to teach the girls some techniques I learned bouncing at a shifter bar.”

  Asiane held her eyes. “This isn’t a coffee date, or a fun little weekend side activity to indulge in and then you go back to wherever you came from.”

  “I understand. But while I’m here I’ll do what I can. It sounds like you need allies.”

  Asiane’s eyes narrowed. “We’ll talk about it later. I don’t think this is a discussion you and Daamin should have.”

  The implication being, as the sister looked between Daamin and Rebekah, that neither of them was thinking with their heads. Daamin gave Asiane an ironic look, but nodded.

  “We’ll sit and discuss over dinner,” the older female said. “It is already ready and sitting in the oven – there is no point in waiting since we are all home.”

  Chapter Seven

  Daamin introduced his mother as Muriel before they sat at the table.

  “I am happy my son has brought home a female, and an ally. We need both in this house.”

  “Looks like there are plenty of girls here,” Rebekah replied, tongue in cheek.

  Muriel raised a brow, eyes glinting. “Yes, but we are all his relatives.”

  Rebekah ate the food, enjoying the spiced meats and flavorful rice and vegetables. She mostly said nothing, except to answer a few questions Asiane threw her way.

  “Should we mo
ve?” Faridah asked, picking at her meal.

  “No,” Daamin said. “This is our home now. We will stay, and we will make it secure. Talia was right – we need allies, or we will be running forever.”

  They glanced at Rebekah, who looked around the table. “I can’t negotiate a Den alliance on behalf of my Clan,” she said. “But I can contact my father and… I know a member of the Mother’s Council.” She’d been reluctant to admit that information – telling them placed a kind of responsibility of her shoulders, because by giving up the information she was de facto volunteering to be a contact.

  “Are you able to speak on our behalf?” Daamin asked. Dark eyes watched her steadily, but there was no sense of pressure from him. Only a calm waiting, as if he would accept whatever answer she gave.

  “I can talk to her. I can’t promise anything. There should be other Dens here in Tacoma. The best thing might be to put you in contact with some of them.”

  “We were given a list when we applied for permission to settle here,” Asiane said. “But it is hard to know who to trust. To… bring anyone into our drama.”

  Meaning they hadn’t wanted to create ties in the community, hadn’t wanted to make themselves vulnerable. But now that they knew someone from a Den and the cat was out of the bag… it would be more of a warm introduction, less of a cold.

  “I’ll make some calls,” Rebekah repeated.

  Daamin rose. “Thank you. And I’ll need a few minutes to take care of some business.”

  He left the room, touching Rebekah’s shoulder as he left.

  Asiane watched. “What are you two doing together?”

  Rebekah shrugged. “We met up accidently this morning at the cafe near your club. We were just going to spend the day together since we were both at loose ends as far as work.”

  “What are your long-term plans?” Asiane set down her fork.

  “My son looks at you with respect,” Muriel said.

  Discomfort instantly curdled the food in her stomach. “I think he’s just cool that I offered to help.”

  “Mmm. Is your Den an old one?”

  Rebekah went through several responses, discarded many, and ended up with, “We’ve been around.”