Whatever it was, Iona knew that her sister’s urge to cry came from more than stress.
“Nicole,” she said carefully. “Maybe you should have a checkup before the wedding.”
Nicole’s head popped off Iona’s shoulder. “Why? You think there’s something wrong with me?”
“No, no,” Iona said quickly. “But I think you should.”
Nicole took a step back. “What’s wrong? Your eyes have gone all…Shifter.”
Iona blinked, trying to make her eyes behave. Any trigger of adrenaline and her pupils would become catlike, slits of black in light blue irises.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I promise. Everything’s right.”
“Iona, when you get weird like this, you scare me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Her sister’s distress poured off her in waves. She cried out for reassurance, the scent of that stirring Iona’s protective instincts even more.
Iona put her hands on Nicole’s shoulders again. “You’re pregnant.”
Nicole stared in shock. “What are you talking about? I am not.”
“Yes, you are. Don’t ask me how I know. I just…know.”
“You have to be wrong. Tyler and I agreed to wait to have kids.”
Iona grinned. “Well, the kid didn’t wait to have you. Go get a checkup. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong.” But Iona wasn’t. She knew it in her bones.
“How can you possibly tell?” Now Nicole looked angry.
“I told you, don’t ask me. But kids are what happens when you have sex. It’s kind of the whole reason sex was invented.”
“But we’re being so careful…” Nicole nearly wailed.
Iona hugged her sister again. “Tell Tyler to check his condoms for holes. Don’t be so upset. This is a wonderful thing.”
“I still think you’re wrong.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. Go have the damn checkup.”
Nicole burst out laughing. She picked up the shoe she’d dropped and put it back into the bag. “Okay, I’ll call my doctor. I think you have no idea what you’re talking about, but you’re right. Better to make sure before I drink all that champagne at the wedding.”
“Not to mention the shots at your bachelorette party.”
“Good point.” Nicole picked up the shopping bag and peered again at Iona. “You’d better go home if you can’t keep your eyes under control.”
“I’ll think about it. I have a lot of work to do.”
“I’ll do the work. Get out of here.”
Iona saw that her sister wasn’t going to budge. Protect Iona had been the watchwords in the family since she could remember.
No one in the world had known about Iona’s Shifter side but Penny, Nicole, and Howard, Iona’s stepfather. They’d understood why they needed to keep the secret, and they’d done it. But keeping the secret sometimes entailed making sure Iona was out of sight.
“Fine. Want me to take the shoes and drop them off at your house?”
“No, I want to show Mom. Go on, before someone comes in.”
Iona went. She hugged Nicole again, giving her a kiss on her cheek, then put on her sunglasses as she stepped outside, in case her eyes didn’t change back.
She started her red pickup, then ended up with her hands on the wheel, dragging in deep breaths. The wild thing inside was clawing its way up, wanting out, needing release.
Iona still worried about Eric. Diego would look in on him, she tried to reassure herself, but Eric’s voice, his distress, pulled at her. She needed to see him.
No, she needed to stay away from Shiftertown.
But she needed to see him.
Iona clenched the wheel. Her hands sprouted claws, black fur rippling down her fingers. Damn it.
She forced her claws to be fingers again, put the truck in gear, and backed out of her place. She sped out into thick traffic, the commuters from Las Vegas heading home to Henderson and outlying areas.
Iona strove to drive carefully, but every time someone cut her off or tried to shove her out of her lane, the beast in her snarled.
This wasn’t road rage—she wanted to kill. She could taste it, felt the need to have hot blood filling her mouth.
Her hands changed to panther again, and Iona lost hold of the wheel. Shit. Iona grabbed it again, willing her hands to change back to human.
Hold it together, hold it together.
Eric’s visit had roused the Shifter in her. Iona had tried to keep the Shifter side of her quiet and out of sight all her life, suppressing the animal so she could live in peace and safety. Eric was goading that animal to become part of her everyday life, whether Iona liked it or not.
He’d showed her how to open herself to her sensitive sense of smell. Now scents poured in at her so thick and fast she couldn’t process them. Iona glanced at the man in the car next to her, and knew that, if she decided to, she could break through his window, grab him, and rip out his throat.
Just get home.
Iona drew a breath, slid her pickup into the quieter side streets of her neighborhood, and made it to her driveway. She shut off her engine, peeled her fingers from the wheel, and let out a long sigh.
Home. Safety.
Her next-door neighbor’s cat bounded over, a sleek black-and-white with a black patch over one eye. He jumped onto the hood of Iona’s truck and let out a meow.
Iona slid out of the truck and reached out to give Pirate a stroke as she went by. He liked Iona—most cats did.
Pirate drew back in alarm, flattened his ears, and hissed, before leaping down from the truck and running back home.
Hissing was defensive behavior, what a cat did when it perceived a threat. Pirate had seen the aggressor in Iona, even though she’d meant to caress, and had decided to get the hell out of there.
Iona hurried inside the house, shutting the door firmly and locking it with shaking fingers. She pulled out a bottle of merlot and poured a tall glass while she tried to think of something for an early dinner.
Except she wanted only meat, cooked rare if at all. Or maybe fish. She found herself diving through her freezer, searching frantically for something to satisfy her hunger, finding nothing.
“Fresh vegetables,” she said, pulling out bags from her crisper drawer. “Just why?”
Takeout. She could get takeout. But she didn’t trust herself to drive somewhere and pick up the food. She grabbed the phone and called her favorite pizza place, ordering three of the all-meat specials. “Having a party, Ms. Duncan?” the order taker asked.