“You need to decide,” Norval said. “The clan leaders aren’t going to wait forever.”
Graham walked to Norval, stepping from grass to sidewalk, effectively leaving his territory to face Norval and the others on neutral ground. He didn’t need territory advantage to intimidate.
“That’s right,” Graham said. “I decide. And if I decide a human mate is the best thing for me and my clan, then you’ll have to live with it.”
“Or we challenge your leadership,” Norval said.
“Or you challenge my leadership.” Graham gave him a nod. Challenging a leader who endangered Shifters was every Shifter’s right. “But you’d better be prepared to win. And Goddess knows what Eric would say about it if you did win. You know what an interfering ass**le he is.”
He heard growls from the Las Vegas Lupines, anger at Graham for talking about Eric like that. They liked Eric leading them, Goddess help them. Lupines giving themselves over to Felines. What’s the world coming to?
“Tell you what,” Graham said. “You all go home and decide among yourselves which clan you think should be dominant. Because if I pick a female from one of your clans, you know that clan will increase in power. I hope you’re all cool with that. Once you figure out which of you should outrank the other, come back and present your females. Then I’ll give you my final answer.”
The leaders didn’t look at each other, but Graham saw them move a little bit apart from each other. Subtly.
That should shut them up for a while. They’d been so focused on forcing Graham to make a decision—or refuse to, giving them the incentive they needed to try for a leadership grab—that they hadn’t thought about the fact that Graham’s mate would increase dominance of her clan.
It was all stupid anyway, because the humans didn’t like Shifters changing leadership. The humans thought they assigned leadership; they’d barely accepted Graham to stay leader of his Shifters. Eric and Graham had talked long and hard to convince them that Graham was best at keeping the Elko Shifters under control. The humans wanted the Shifters to live quietly and not cause trouble, so they’d agreed.
Shifters knew who led and who didn’t, regardless of what humans thought, but they sometimes had to be covert about it.
“Go chew on that,” Graham said. “And stop looking in my windows.”
“You have to take a mate sooner or later,” Norval said. “You know that.”
Norval delivered his declaration with a sharp nod of his head, then he walked away, carefully not turning his back in Graham’s direction. His second drifted after him.
The Las Vegas leaders walked away too, only Muriel giving Graham any kind of deferential farewell.
Graham knew Norval was right. If Graham’s son had survived—he’d be full-grown and powerful by now—then his Shifters wouldn’t give him so much grief about his mate. Eric’s choice of half-human, half-Shifter Iona hadn’t caused a murmur, because Eric had Jace, a strong son, plus his sister Cassidy was very dominant.
Graham had no one. Only Dougal, his out-of-control nephew. The few other members of his clan were distant relations, and several were equal in dominance with each other—no clear path to clan leadership. If Graham dropped dead, there would be a battle. The only way to prevent it was to take a strong Shifter mate and start putting out cubs. The more cubs the better.
Graham waited until the Lupines had faded into the darkness, their scents growing fainter. Only when he knew they were truly gone did he return to the house, wanting Misty.
He glanced up at the house and saw two small wolf faces peering down at him from the spare bedroom window. Little shits. They were supposed to be asleep.
But they watched him all the way in, and he knew they’d heard every word. When he opened the door of their bedroom upstairs, Kyle and Matt were curled up on the bed again, head to head, tail to tail, pretending to snore.
• • •
Misty woke to early-morning sunshine pouring through the window, a stiffness in her body, and strange satisfaction. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was, then she saw she still lay in Graham’s bed.
Of Graham, there was no sign. The bed bore only Misty’s imprint and rumpled covers. Graham must have slept elsewhere.
Misty climbed out of the bed and headed for the bathroom. She was completely naked and had no idea where her clothes were. Still downstairs in the kitchen?
No, they’d been hung over the back of a wooden chair near Graham’s bedroom door. Well, dropped haphazardly over the wooden chair. Graham wasn’t the kind of man who sent out his lady’s clothes to be cleaned and pressed then greeted her with breakfast in bed, including a rosebud in a vase.
Graham was himself. Misty had the feeling that, to him, romance was a word in an ancient, lost language.
The bathroom was clean though. New and nice. Misty showered, using plain bar soap and generic shampoo. No frills for the McNeils.
She dressed and went downstairs, hoping she could find utensils and ingredients for breakfast. The kitchen was as she’d left it, no change. The cubs weren’t here or frolicking in the yard. They weren’t in the house at all—they hadn’t been in bed, and no way were they in here and not making noise. No one was in the house but Misty.
No sign of Graham, cubs, or Dougal in the backyard or in the front. They’d left, going who-knew-where, without bothering to leave so much as a note.
Not Misty’s business, right? She should walk out, get into her borrowed car, and drive back home.
Disappearing without saying good-bye, though, especially after what she and Graham had done last night, felt wrong. She wanted to see Graham, to kiss him good morning, to see his smile and hear his rough-voiced teasing.
Matt and Kyle had confessed they’d gone to a basement of an unfinished house, and from there had somehow made it to Misty’s store. Had someone snatched them, drugged them, carried them off? And why dump them in a car outside Misty’s shop?
It was six o’clock, but the sun was up, the temperature already climbing. In the summer, desert dwellers did anything outdoorsy early, and then stayed inside with the AC for the hot afternoon. If Graham wanted to explore the scene of the crime in daylight, he’d have done it now.
Not her business, Misty repeated silently.
Oh, screw it. Misty wanted to know whatever it was they found. She cared about the cubs too, no denying it. She cared about Dougal and Graham, and her Shifter friends. Misty was in this now, no going back, no matter how much she and Graham danced back and forth on their relationship.