Hour of the Lion Cherise Sinclair (8 ebook reader .TXT) 📖

You remain here while I find it.' As he left the kitchen, his voice trailed back to her,

'Your company right now would be an appallingly bad idea.'

Without her permission, her feet started after him. No, Sergeant. She stopped. She was here to investigate stuff, not to scratch an itch. Or two. Mmm, two men. Alec‘s kisses, Calum‘s hands.

No no no. She thumped her head against the wall hard enough to pound that idea right out of her brain.

*

At a lull later that night, Calum glanced around the room, feeling the glow of satisfaction.

The tavern, gathering home of the Daonain since it first opened in eighteen eighty, was thriving under his care. Not only shifters liked the Wild Hunt, but OtherFolk and even humans enjoyed the warmth of companionship here.

Most of them. He eyed a table with three human females. Two were pleasantly drunk and soaking up attention from the human males. The third female nervously watched a couple of older shifters seated nearby.

Calum frowned. Only yesterday, Thorson had returned from the mountain where he‘d gone to ease his grief. Tonight, he was single-mindedly trying to get intoxicated. Unfortunately, his drinking companion was Albert Baty, another human-hater. Sober or alone, the men posed no problem. Put them together, and their anger merged and increased.

After Rosie had gone off duty earlier, Calum had served the men himself so Victoria would have no reason to go near them.

Other customers had also required special service. He glanced at the corner table by the kitchen door and saw the dwarves‘ glasses were empty. Already. With a sigh, Calum built two more black and tans and carried them over. The satisfaction that the discriminating local dwarf population found his beer good was offset by the danger of having them frequent his bar, especially on busy nights.

Like many magical beings, the dwarves generated a you-can"t-see-me aura. The RESERVED placard on the table and the slightly antagonistic waves coming from them repelled most humans...unless they were very drunk, like the old rancher last week who‘d plopped himself down on Gramlor‘s lap.

And Alec—Alec had been laughing so hard he almost failed to wrench the axe away from the dwarf before Gramlor split the human‘s head open.

At the table, Calum kept his back to the room and bowed. 'Gentlemen, your drinks. I trust everything is adequate?'

Nurxtan smoothed his beard. 'You still have fine beer, Cosantir. I haven‘t visited here since your dam‘s lifemate passed on. My condolences.'

'I thank you.' He set a mug in front of each dwarf.

The other dwarf who came in often nodded his thanks.

Nurxtan‘s attention turned away. Alec had just walked in, and his progress to the bar was hindered by greetings on all sides. 'Your brother appears in good health.'

'He is that.'

The dwarf frowned. 'He scatters his seed to many, many, yet has no formal lifemate. And neither have you, Cosantir.'

'My mate died.'

'Time has passed. Find another. Bonded Daonain are safer for all.'

Calum‘s jaw tightened. Dwarves didn‘t lie, didn‘t hand out compliments, didn‘t have any tact, and those long noses of theirs poked into everything, including people‘s personal lives. 'I–'

Nurxtan interrupted. 'And this time, share with your brother.'

No point in discussing it. Calum rendered a tight nod and stalked back to his bar. Bollocks.

Lenora had been frail and her timidity had kept her from accepting Alec, warping their mating to only her and Calum. Alec had understood, but guilt still rode Calum‘s shoulders, even so many years after her death. Putting it aside, he returned to working the taps.

From the waitress station, Vic waved and caught his attention. 'I need three white wines and a Bud Light,' she called. As she reached for the water pitcher, her full breasts rested on the bar top like a prize to be gathered. With an effort, he averted his gaze, closing his hands around a cold wine bottle instead. Three wines. Right.

Despite the noisy conversations, he still heard his brother‘s snicker from the far end of the bar. Obviously Alec had seen where his attention had lingered. Calum shot him a look of frustration, and Alec raised his glass in a toast of perfect understanding.

'Your order is complete, Victoria.' Calum placed the drinks in front of her.

'Thank you.' She set them on her tray and gave him a smile that flooded his system with testosterone. Her face was flushed, her eyes sparkling, and he couldn‘t help but wonder if she brought all that delightful energy to mating.

'Ring them up to the Howard account,' she told him and hefted up the tray.

The ease with which she carried the heavy trays hinted at strong muscles hidden under her smooth female padding. She had the prowling gait of a shifter, he noticed again. He turned and met Alec‘s look. After drawing a Guinness, he moved down the bar to hand it over. 'Here.'

'Thanks.' Alec took a gulp. 'A human shouldn‘t affect us this way.'

'Some trick of the pheromones. Shifters do bed humans, after all.'

'Only because they‘re convenient—not because of any real appeal,' Alec pointed out. 'I don‘t know about you, brawd, but I‘m damned attracted.'

'As am I.' Too attracted. The God was teasing him, keeping her constantly in his sight.

Within his scent-range. But he knew it wasn‘t wise for a shifter to get entangled with a human.

'After the Samhain Gathering, we should visit elsewhere.'

'And check out some new females? Maybe even find a lifemate?'

'Precisely.' His relationship with Lenora had been incomplete. Next time he‘d be able to share his mate with his brother.

Vic‘s eyes were going wonky, she decided. In her peripheral vision, she could see two short guys sitting near the hallway. But when she looked straight at the table, it was empty.

Hadn‘t she seen Calum deliver two drinks? He‘d stood a while and then returned to the bar with empty glasses. Had he sucked down two glasses of beer by himself?

She averted her gaze, and in the corner of her eyes, saw the two guys reappear at the table.

Very, very short men with waist-length beards. They looked