Mate Claimed

“Maybe not.” Nell reached up for the second cub, who wriggled his hindquarters and then took a leap into her outstretched hands. “But I raised two grizzlies on my own, and these kiddos could never be anywhere near the trouble Shane and Brody were. Still are.”

Eric smiled at the driver, letting his teeth get a little pointed, and his fingers sprout a claw or two. “See? You do what we say, and everything will be just fine.”

Iona didn’t have any trouble getting Frank Kellerman to agree to come to her office.

Kellerman said that, yes, it would be a good idea to go over some details, and he’d make the trip to her construction company to talk to her and her mother that afternoon. Iona was surprised he didn’t ask her to come to his office, but Kellerman half explained by saying he wanted to see their setup, their construction company in action.

Iona spent the rest of the morning trying to get work done and giving up. Eric was out running around the desert with Graham McNeil, going to that compound that she knew was dangerous. She wished he’d call and tell her all was well, but her phones remained silent.

She felt strange wearing her office clothes—dressy pants, sleeveless knit top, blazer, and high-heeled pumps. In the two short days she’d been in Shiftertown, she’d gotten used to casual jeans and T-shirts, or Cassidy’s loose skirt and top—clothes that could be quickly removed for shifting.

It was also strange for Iona to have to rein in her Shifter side again, to be careful not to growl or make sure her eyes weren’t changing. She couldn’t stop using her scent ability now, and smells came to her nonstop—her mother’s soap, the foreman’s habitual cloying cologne, the sweat and dirt on guys who’d come in for paychecks. Iona had to stop herself closing her eyes to sort out all the scents as they flooded past her.

Her hunger was driving her nuts as well. She’d downed two and a half cheeseburgers at her desk at lunch before she realized that her mother and the foreman were giving her strange looks.

Damn it, Eric. Call.

Kellerman showed up at two, a little early—Iona had set the appointment for two thirty. Nothing yet from Eric.

Iona pasted on her best customer service smile when she greeted Mr. Kellerman. Kellerman was on the tall side for a human, and looked like any successful businessman—he kept himself in shape but not buff, wore a suit of lightweight cashmere, and had neatly trimmed dark hair going gray but didn’t try to hide his bald spot. He smiled back at Iona when she shook his hand, but the smile never reached his eyes.

Kellerman’s position on the Shifter liaison council was voluntary, a successful man trying to look like he cared about the community. He’d made his money in retail, not hotels and casinos, and by owning land that he sold at the right time to hungry developers.

Iona had looked all this up about him, knowing she might have to carry the conversation before Eric arrived—if Eric arrived at all.

Penny put on a more genuine smile as she came around her desk to say hello. As far as Iona’s mother was concerned, Kellerman, cold and calculating or not, was giving them a lot of business.

“So good to see what you ladies have going here,” Kellerman said.

Instead of bristling, Penny smiled at him. She’d gotten used to the condescending attitudes of men who found themselves dealing with a woman-run business, especially a traditionally masculine business like construction.

“The surveys are going well,” Penny said. “I don’t think there will be much trouble. Ground breaking will start soon.”

The Shifter council expected Duncan Construction to build the houses almost overnight, but there were permissions, inspections, and the involvement of the county and city, plus the power and water companies to slow things down. Because this was about Shifters, state and federal segments had to sign off on things too.

At least Penny and Kellerman had plenty to talk about while Iona sat at her desk and fidgeted.

“Why don’t we take a trip out to Shiftertown?” Kellerman suggested. “Walk over the site? A couple of reporters are following the story—maybe they can join us.”

A photo op. Iona nearly snapped her pen in half. He’s turning this into a photo op.

“Mr. Warden was hoping to join us here,” Iona said quickly. “He wants to discuss a few things. Can’t think what’s keeping him.”

Was it her imagination, or did Kellerman look alarmed? “We can speak to him in Shiftertown,” he said. “Where else would we find him?”

His words were too slick, too glib. Iona fell silent. If Kellerman and her mother went to Shiftertown, she couldn’t go with them. There’d be too much danger a Shifter might spill to Kellerman—accidentally or on purpose—that she was only half-human.

Her mother, thankfully, understood that. “Not sure we can spare the time for the trip today,” she said.

“Ah, well. Oh.” Kellerman glanced out the window at the same time Iona heard the throb of Eric’s motorcycle. “Here he is.”

Iona went weak with relief. And then wound up with worry again. Had Eric found the missing Shifters? Or was he here to beat their whereabouts out of Kellerman?

Not one Harley pulled up, she saw as she rose from her desk, but two. The second Shifter was Graham.

The two Shifters removed helmets and walked to the office side by side. Not in comradeship, but each not wanting to let the other lead.

Iona went to the door and opened it herself to prevent a power struggle over who got to knock. Eric gave her a warm look, then masked it as he climbed the steps to the office.