Hour of the Lion

Vic grunted. “Good thing. I’m not much of a cook. That’s a nice color on you, Jess.”

“Thanks.” The kid looked up from under her lashes. “I’m glad Lachlan made you a shifter. I didn’t want you to leave.”

Vic blinked as warmth enfolded her like a hot bath. “Well. I-” She sighed and let the words spill out. “I would have missed you, munchkin.”

“Were you going to miss Daddy too?”

Look out, Sergeant. This conversation is booby-trapped. With relief, Vic heard a door open and cheerful voices from the living room. It sounded as if more people arrived. Oh, wonderful, she had two no-win options: being polite while strangers stared at the new freak shifter, or discussing a this-can’t-happen relationship with a man’s daughter-or niece-and wasn’t this so totally screwed up?

She chose the least dangerous option and said with a groan, “Guess we’d better get our butts out there.”

Jamie snickered. “Oh, Vicki, it won’t be that bad.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Jamie took her hand and pulled her off the bed. “I’ll take care of you. It’s not a Gathering, so nobody’s gonna fight.”

“No fighting? What’s the point?”

Giggling, Jamie dragged her into the living room. To Vic’s horror, people surged through the front door like ocean breakers.

Aaron trotted over and handed her a big mug of hot chocolate. “I made this for you, young lady.” He gave another one to Jamie before hustling away.

Vic stared at the mug. No beer? Dammit, she really wanted a drink. With a sigh, she sipped, then choked as it burned all the way down, not from the heat, but from the amount of peppermint schnapps Aaron had added. “Good God.”

She pulled Jamie’s cup out of her hands and sniffed it. No peppermint, just chocolate. “Okay, you can drink it.”

Jamie took it back with a suspicious look. “I bet yours is better.”

“And when you’re twenty-one, you’ll get to find out, won’t you?” Vic answered. “Um. What are we supposed to do now?”

“We mingle and…and schmooze.” Jamie frowned. “I’m not sure what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“Come, come, let’s introduce you around.” Aaron popped back and chivvied Vic and Jamie forward like a hyperactive cattle dog. He stopped beside two women in their thirties seated on the sofa. “Victoria, this is Sarah and Gretchen. They’re here visiting their mother until Samhain.”

They offered chill nods.

Vic recognized Gretchen as the woman in Cold Creek who’d run her hand over Calum’s chest. She was tall, slender, and fucking gorgeous with porcelain skin and French-braided platinum blonde hair. Her sister looked completely unrelated with a curvy build, dusky complexion, dark brown eyes, and wavy black hair. Also beautiful. “Nice to meet you,” Vic lied.

“Jamie, Maude’s grandson is here. He’s just your age.” Aaron dragged Jamie away. Traitor, Vic thought at the child, then sighed and took a chair. Although the women looked at her like she’d crawled out of a garbage can, she managed a polite smile.

“So you arrived here with Calum?” Gretchen asked, obviously already knowing the answer.

“That’s right.” Should she mention the attackers? God, someone should have briefed her before this party. “Um, we hiked up from Cold-”

“Hiked?” Sarah interrupted with a thin laugh. “Why didn’t you trawsfur? You made the Cosantir walk like a stinking human?”

Vic considered being polite for all of two seconds and discarded the idea. They disliked her, for whatever reason, and the feeling was mutual. She rose and without one swearword-truly a miracle of self-control-walked away.

“Well!”

Vic didn’t look to see who had spoken. Next stop? A mess of older people, including the Elders, mingled on the other side of the woodstove. Three middle-aged men stood by the door. A handful of women had taken over the kitchen. Jamie was engaged in a vehement argument with two boys about her age. No Calum, no Alec. Damn them.

Maude disengaged from the Elder group. “Come, child, there’s food in the kitchen, and people want to meet you.”

Vic glanced back at bitch one and bitch two. “Sure they do.”

Maude tracked her gaze and gave a womanly snort. Tucking a hand under Vic’s elbow, much like Calum’s habit, she guided her into the kitchen. “Perhaps I should say most want to meet you. Some unattached females, well-”

“I usually have to do something before someone gets all huffy.”

Maude laughed. “Oh, you did, Victoria, you did.”

What had she done? Vic had no time to think as she was introduced to Heather and her mother, Helen. Round and soft with kind blue eyes, Helen smiled and took Vic’s hand in both of hers. “We’re delighted to have another woman for our Clan. Welcome, child, welcome.”

“Thank you,” Vic managed.

The woman’s daughter laughed. “Every female is a stray chick to my mama, no matter how old they are.” Heather was a tall, lanky woman about Vic’s age wearing a russet sweater that matched her hair. She handed her mother a plate of sandwiches. “Here. I saw Leland looking in a few minutes ago. Of course, I’m not sure if he hungered for food or for you.”

Helen flushed and frowned in mock disgust at her daughter. “Such notions you get.” But she took the plate and Vic noticed, headed straight for the tough old Elder. He looked at her like a starving man spotting a McDonald’s.”

“Looks pretty gone on her,” Vic commented.

Heather leaned back against the kitchen table and grinned. “The poor male’s tried to get her into his cabin for years. He’d lifemate her in a heartbeat, but she wants to stay unattached for a while.”

“Ah.” Lifemated was the same as married, right? Why in the world hadn’t Alec or Calum provided a furball dictionary?

Heather tilted her head. “You having an up-close-and-personal encounter with culture shock?”

“I’m past culture shock and well on the road to a major melt-down.” Vic glanced at the crowd. “Is there a way to tell which shifter turns into which animal?”

Heather shoved a package of broccoli toward Vic. “Why don’t you cut those up and we’ll put out some dip.” She started slicing up carrots. “The werecats, like Calum and Alec, usually have a prowling kind of gait. Maude and Aaron and Mama and my brothers are all bears; their walk is more bouncy. A wolf’s gait isn’t as distinctive.”

“But if your mama is a bear, then how come you’re a wolf?”

Heather rolled her eyes in a duh response. “My father or his ancestors must have been one. Me and my brothers are Gather-bred, so we’re not sure of our fathers. But it’s simple genetics, just like red hair or blue eyes.”

Fathers? Before Vic could ask, a commotion at the door got her attention. Alec and Calum. Her spirits lifted so fast it was frightening. The men were quickly engulfed in greetings, but after a minute, Alec looked around, spotted Vic, and headed into the kitchen.

“Hey, Heather,” he said, snatching a carrot from under her knife. “How’s it going? You still CEO of that company?”

Heather gave him a thin smile. “You bet. We’re raking in money hand-over-fist.”

Alec shook his head, grinned at Vic. “Wolves. Nobody’s better at teamwork, and they know right when to close in for the kill.” He plopped down in a chair beside Vic.

Just needing to touch, she stepped closer and patted him on the head, trying not to notice how silky his hair was. The way he smelled of pine forests and masculine musk made her want to nibble on his neck. “Where’d you guys go? The party started a while ago.”

“The village has bathing springs.” He tucked his big hand around her leg, his fingers warm against her inner