Hour of the Lion by Cherise Sinclair (reading a book txt) 📕

North Cascades since we‘re fairly isolated. Rainier is fighting hellhounds and have seven or eight."

Hellhounds. Not gonna visit that subject right now. As she studied Alec, her mouth tightened. She‘d already known, there in Helen‘s house. The blood on him hadn‘t come from hunting any deer. She‘d recognized that soul-weary look; she‘d seen it in her own mirror. "You killed the feral, didn‘t you?"

He nodded.

That‘s why Helen had thanked him. "So the attacker is a shifter who went crazy. And you can‘t...uh, treat them or something?"

"No. There‘s no return once the door is shut."

"Door?"

"At the cabin, we told you about a portal in your mind—the one you open to trawsfur." In the lantern light, his eyes shone the green of deep forest.

"Well"—she smiled in relief—"there‘s no door in my head."

"Close your eyes and look around. It‘s kinda in the back somewhere. Glows just a tad." His expression held a challenge she couldn‘t refuse.

She shut her eyes. Yeah, okay, it was dark. Everything was black. She pretended her gaze turned in a circle, from the front around to the... Oh, shit. Her spine stiffened like someone had yelled, Attention!

"Yeah. Thought so," Alec murmured.

“Oh. My. God.” Her eyes opened and she glared. "There is a fucking door-thing in my brain."

He tried to smile, but she could see how much of an effort it was.

Another realization twisted her guts. "Did you know him? The feral?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Fergus taught me to hunt when I was growing up."

Oh, God, there was no comfort to be offered here. „To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned." Vic moved to sit beside him, taking his hand between hers. "He was older?"

His fingers curled around hers as if to a lifeline. "About Aaron‘s age. He‘d never lifemated anyone, and his only family, a littermate, died last week."

"Are you saying he wasn‘t mentally ill? Depression made him go feral?"

Alec kissed her fingers and enfolded her hand in his. "If a shifter has no loved ones or family, no ties to pull him back to the human side, then some turn, and unfortunately, loneliness and grief warps them, driving them to mindlessly attack."

Holy fuck. Fear shot straight to her insides and clung there, claws digging in deep. She didn‘t have any family. No loved ones. So if she shifted, she might not come back. Helen must have known Fergus too—and he‘d savaged the sweet woman. She shivered.

"Vicki, it‘s not really—"

"Oh hey," she said. "I‘m supposed to help Heather make cookies." She rose and smiled down at him, her heart aching as if she‘d already decided. "I‘ll bring you back some sweets."

*

After helping Heather bake, Vic had been dragged away by Jamie to play cut-throat Monopoly with her friends. Vic had gone bankrupt, and she wasn‘t sure if she was pissed-off at losing so badly or proud of the munchkin for doing so well. "You have a head for business, kid,"

she told Jamie on the way back to Aaron‘s.

"I know." She gave Vic a smug look. "Daddy‘s teaching me to do the books for the tavern."

"Ugh. Better you than me." She‘d rather fight a nice bloody battle any day. In the house, she stopped, staring across the room.

Sarah sat beside Alec on the small couch—where he and Vic had talked earlier. Cleavage was snuggled up to him so closely she was almost on his lap. Her dark head rested on his shoulder as they talked together in low voices.

Vic swallowed and followed Jamie to the kitchen where Aaron had his hands deep in bread dough.

"Where‘s Daddy?" Jamie asked, snatching a tiny piece of dough and stuffing it into her mouth.

Aaron pulled the ball of dough closer to him and continued kneading. "Gretchen came to get him a while back. They haven‘t returned."

Vic‘s lungs weren‘t getting enough air, and her hands felt colder now than they had outside.

"Why don‘t you stay and help Aaron, Jamie? I‘m going to take a break."

"Sure."

Vic ruffled Jamie‘s hair and left the room. Okay then. Apparently that was that. Her decision was made.

So why didn‘t she feel good about it?

Chapter Sixteen

Calum covered a yawn as he walked into the kitchen early the next day. He and the Elders had stayed up most of the night, hammering out contingency plans in case the Daonain were exposed by the arseholes trying to catch shifters. Although well hidden, the Elders were the least mobile of the clan. Part of the reason he‘d visited was to ensure they understood the seriousness of the threat and were prepared to run if needed.

Beside Alec at the counter, Jamie grinned over her shoulder. "We‘re making pancakes."

"Impressive accomplishment." Calum kissed the top of her head, smiled at Alec, and looked around. Aaron liked to sleep late, but Victoria seemed like a dawn riser. "Did you leave Victoria sleeping?"

Jamie had her lip tucked between her teeth as she concentrated on pouring the perfect amount of pancake dough into the frying pan. "She‘s already up."

"Ah. She probably went out for a walk."

The batter sizzled as it dropped onto the hot skillet, and the scent of pancakes filled the kitchen. Alec‘s stomach growled audibly. "I get the first one."

Calum tilted his head. "I believe that reputable cooks serve others first."

"But Jamie wouldn‘t let her beloved uncle starve, would she?"

She frowned from one to the other, and a sly smile spread over her face. "I don‘t want you arguing with Daddy, so I‘d better eat the first one."

"Even in an emergency, she keeps her head." Calum grinned at Alec, his pride making his heart swell.

The breakfast, although he didn‘t get the first pancake, tasted very good. "You‘re turning into a fine cook, Jamie," Calum said. "Since you did most of the work, Alec and I will clean up.

Meanwhile, you can pack. We‘ll leave soon."

"Oh, Daddy. Do we have to go?"

"I have a business; Alec is sheriff." He gave her a stern look. "And you have school."

"Well, poop."

As Jamie trotted to her room, Calum poured himself another cup