Ronan’s house sat well back from the street behind a garage that had been enclosed to make what looked like a guesthouse. Beyond that was a two-story house, larger than the others Carly had seen.
The door of the house popped open, and out ran a white-furred polar bear cub. Without stopping, the cub galloped straight for Tiger.
Tiger released Carly’s hand, dropped into a crouch, spread his arms, and took the full impact of the bear cub’s charge. Bear and man rolled over on the ground, dust and dried grass flying upward. The cub growled and snarled, but Tiger was silent as he pretended to wrestle with the little bear.
They writhed on the ground for several moments longer, the bear cub swiping black paws at Tiger, Tiger deflecting them gently. Finally Tiger was flat on his back, spread-eagled, the bear cub standing on top of him, growling his victory.
Tiger brought his arms up and started rubbing the bear, pulling him down into a hug. The cub made baby bear noises and nuzzled Tiger’s face.
Then the cub turned its head and saw Carly. He climbed quickly off Tiger and romped toward her.
Carly stepped back, waiting for the cub to jump and knock her flat too, but the cub only stopped and sniffed curiously around her feet. When it lifted its head, Carly put one hand down to stroke it. She found fur soft and yet wiry, rather like Tiger’s, but deeper, the pelt of a cold-weather animal.
The bear cub closed its eyes and leaned on Carly’s legs, rumbling in its belly. A warm delight worked through Carly as she kept petting, the cub crooning its pleasure.
“Olaf.” A petite young woman of about thirty, her dark hair streaked with red, had come out onto the porch. She carried a tiny baby in one competent arm, its shock of hair a rich red brown. “Let them come inside.”
Olaf nuzzled Carly’s hand one last time, then he took off across the yard, barreling past the woman and into the house.
“I’m Elizabeth,” the woman said as Tiger picked himself up off the ground and brushed grass from his jeans. “Ronan’s mate. You must be Carly.”
Carly walked up to the porch and stuck out her hand. “I sure am. Word travels fast.”
“You have no idea.” The woman was human, no Collar around her neck, cute in her cropped top and jeans, but with eyes that had seen a lot in life. The baby couldn’t have been more than a couple of months old, serenely sleeping in its T-shirt.
“This is Coby,” she said, a note of pride in her voice. “Our new little son. You two have come to see Walker.”
Carly looked up from where she’d been gently tickling Coby’s stomach. “That’s right. How’d you know?”
“Shifter gossip. Faster than e-mail. Come on inside. I’ve got cold bottled water for you—it’s a hot one today.”
“That’s Austin in the summer,” Carly said.
“You’ve lived here long?” Elizabeth led the way into the house, Carly following, Tiger close behind her.
“All my life,” Carly said. “Born and raised.” By a great mother and three sisters who’d pulled together for survival.
“I’ve been here about seven years. But I love it. Been in Shiftertown less than that.” Elizabeth bounced the little boy. “You get used to it.”
Do you? Carly wondered.
Ronan’s house was large, the floors polished hardwood with rugs, and had big, solid furniture all around. Carly guessed why the furniture was so sturdy when she saw the people sitting at the dining room table—a giant of a man and a woman who, Carly saw when she stood up, was tall, curvaceous, and absolutely gorgeous. The Collar around her neck only enhanced her sensuality.
The way she flicked her attention to Tiger made Carly’s possessiveness rear its head.
Not ten minutes ago, Carly had been thinking that she should tell Tiger they needed to slow down and get to know each other before they proceeded with a relationship of any kind. But as soon as this Shifter woman so much as glanced at him, Carly wanted to glare at her and say, Back off.
Weird, she’d never felt that way about Ethan. Carly had never worried at all with Ethan, until it was too late.
The Shifter woman must have seen the jealous glitter in Carly’s eyes, because she broke into a smile that threatened to become a laugh.
“Ronan,” she said and wandered to an open door that led to a kitchen. “They’re here.”
“I can see that.”
Ronan rose, the man larger even than Tiger. Walker sat behind him at the table, one wrist in a handcuff, the handcuff chained to a ring in the wall. Why Ronan’s household had a heavy ring in the wall in the dining room, Carly wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Tiger,” Ronan said. Unlike the Shifters they’d passed on the way, he didn’t drop his gaze before Tiger or stare at him in hostile fear. “You’re looking good for a Shifter who should be dead.”
“I feel good too,” Tiger said. He rested his hands on Carly’s shoulders. “Not so surprising.”
Ronan’s brows went up, and he breathed in. “I see,” he said. “You work fast. But we can talk about that later. You came to interrogate Walker, right? Just remember that he won’t be able to talk if you break his jaw, knock him out, or rip out his throat.”
Tiger nodded gravely. “I’ll remember.”
“How long do we have to keep him?” Ronan went on conversationally. He moved to Elizabeth and took up his son, using the same care with which Tiger had lifted Sean’s cub. “I expected Liam to come for him, but I guess Liam has better things to do. Tasting new batches of Guinness or something.”