Liam shared his smile. “Next time, take a picture and show me. She’s a treasure, that one.”
“I know.” Sean’s entire body sang, thinking about her. She’d soothed his hurts and made all the pain go away. “I treasure her.”
Sean’s gaze wandered to the house next door, and he caught Liam watching him with a knowing smile. “She’s good for you, Sean. I’ve not seen you this interested in—well, anything—in a long time.”
Not since Kenny died, he meant. Sean shrugged. “I’m not fooling myself that Andrea hasn’t rejected the mate-claim because she adores me. She doesn’t have much of a bloody choice.”
“So let her go. Tell her you release her. We can keep it to ourselves so Jared will stay away from her, and Wade won’t give her hell.”
Sean’s deep-seated rage flared. For some reason he wanted to launch himself at Liam, to slam his brother to the ground for even suggesting Sean release the mate already bound to his heart. Andrea’s scent was so mixed with his that he couldn’t separate them anymore.
When Sean’s vision cleared, he saw Liam laughing. Laughing hard.
“Damn it, Liam.”
Liam kept chuckling. “I’d react the same if you told me to let Kim go back and live among her people.”
Sean sat back and took another drink of beer. “I’m thinking I’m so screwed.”
“That’s the mate bond, that is. You know you’d die if she went away. You’ll fight the world to keep her at your side and keep her safe.”
“Exactly.”
Sean thought about what he’d explained to Andrea, that his father still struggled with the pain of his broken mate bond. Dylan hadn’t been able to keep his first mate safe, and recently he’d slipped in the hierarchy, so what made him think he could protect a second one? That must eat him up.
“Kim told me Glory kicked Dad out,” Sean said.
Liam nodded. “And he hasn’t come back here.”
Sean started peeling the label from his beer bottle. “Dad can take care of himself. He’s damn good at it.”
“That’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Someday we’ll believe it?”
Liam laughed. “He’ll expect us to take care of this Shifter problem without asking him for advice.”
“That bites.” Sean savored the dark taste of another sip of beer. “Why do we get stuck doing the hard work?”
“Because Dad raised us well, and now it’s up to us not to shame him.”
“Sure, no pressure.” Sean took another drink, sank back into the swing. “Callum and his friends, they at least haven’t figured out how to override the Collars. How’s that going, then?”
Liam glanced off into the dark, nostrils widening as he searched the wind for scent. “Slowly,” he said in a low voice. “I’m not letting anyone else be hurt because of it.”
Sean leaned forward, and very quietly told Liam about Andrea’s Collar. A spark danced in Liam’s eyes, and he traced the lip of his beer bottle. “Does she know why?” Liam asked.
“She says not. I believe her. But she pulled magic from my Fae sword to heal Ely, and she eased the pain of my Collar. Something about her healing touch, maybe, that makes her Collar not hurt her.”
“I wonder if any other half-Fae Shifters have the same immunity.”
Sean shrugged. “If they do, I’m not thinking they plan to tell anyone.”
“I wouldn’t.” Liam gazed off into the night again, winter cold returning with bite. “Would she help us, do you think?”
“She might. If we asked her nice.”
Liam’s eyes crinkled in the corners. “Is that your other sword talking? Does she draw magic from that one too?”
“You’re a funny man, Liam Morrissey. I think she will help us, in time. As long as you don’t piss her off. She’s kept the secret of her own Collar forever; I think she’d be amenable to keeping ours.”
“Let me think on it, talk to Dad.”
“In the meantime, what about Callum?” Sean asked. “His clan might be sitting on him, but who knows how many of them agree with him?”
“Aye, I’ve got my eye on him and his friends.” He scowled. “The idiots. Their impatience will only bring human wrath down on Shifters, set us back another twenty years.”
Sean couldn’t help looking at Glory’s house again, at Andrea’s bedroom window. “Dad could help. All he has to do is look at them, and they’ll be properly terrified.”
“Don’t I know it.”
The brothers shared a grin. They both would have been dead long ago without Dylan, that was certain. Sean thought back to long winters on the lonely coast of Ireland, when food and fuel ran short, and they’d curl together in their cat forms to warm each other—three brothers with their father. Dylan would disappear and return with food; not kills or stolen potatoes, but fresh vegetables and pheasant and fish prepared for rich men’s tables. He wouldn’t say how he’d obtained them, and Liam, Sean, and Kenny had decided it was wiser not to ask.
“I guess Dad’s decided it’s time to stop saving our asses,” Sean said.
“It’s high time we started saving his.”
“You have the right of it.” Sean rose and set his beer bottle on the table. “I’ll be off home, then.”