Mate Bond(23)

Cristian gave him an annoyed look. "I'm flattered you think me skilled  enough to breed a mythological beast. Do you have any other theories, or  did you decide I alone should take the blame for it?"

Bowman didn't answer. He had plenty of ideas about the beast spinning  through his head. Cristian breeding it, or causing it to be bred, or  knowing who had done it, was only one. He'd come here to cross this  theory off his list and move on to the next idea. Or use it as an excuse  to kill Cristian. Whatever.

"If I look at it, maybe I can tell where it came from," Cristian said. "It isn't Fae?"

"No smell of Faerie," Bowman said. Anything from Faerie had a  distinctive odor-a hint of sulfur and otherworldly fire. The griffin had  only smelled like a very large, very stinky, very dead animal.

Cristian handed the photos back to Kenzie. "The thing about griffins,"  he said to Bowman, "the thing you might not know about, is they always  come in pairs. They mate for life, so it is said. So the question is,  O'Donnell-where is the other one?"





CHAPTER FIFTEEN




Kenzie did not want Ryan coming with them to the site, but Bowman  decided he could, to his son's delight. Ryan needed to know the bad and  the ugly about being Shifter leader, needed to understand the  responsibilities, even when they weren't pretty.

They took Cristian's car, but Kenzie drove. Best thing. Bowman didn't  trust Cristian not to try to wreck the car and make sure Bowman was in  the part that smashed, maybe letting Ryan be badly hurt too. Then  Cristian could pretend he was helping Ryan heal, maybe adopting him to  raise him in Bowman's place.

Then again, Bowman didn't trust himself not to give the car a burst of  speed along a lonely stretch of highway and push Cristian out the door.  Kenzie driving was the best solution.

They arrived at the creature's final resting place within the hour.  Branches had been piled around the dead beast, the underbrush cleared,  so they could burn the thing without torching the entire woods. From  somewhere-the Goddess knew where-Cade had driven in a water truck, ready  to pump water over the fire when it was done. Cade had many human  friends, and he somehow got them to do him all kinds of favors.

Cristian scrambled down to the pyre, put his hands on his hips, and  gazed at the beast. It looked pathetic now, waiting to be sent to the  Goddess and the Summerland, but Bowman remembered all its tonnage  charging at him, ready to kill.

"How did it die?" Cristian asked. "You killed it?" He shot a look at Bowman.

"We don't know," Kenzie said, before Bowman could take credit. "We hurt it, and it might have died of its injuries."

"Or its master might have put it down," Cristian said. "Maybe up in the arena, and it made it this far before it died."

"Why didn't its master chase it, then?" Bowman asked. "Or get rid of the body?"

Cristian shrugged. "Who knows? Have you found the driver of the truck?"

"Working on it," Bowman snapped. He hated how Cristian could stand  around and do nothing, and at the same time imply that Bowman was slow  and incompetent. Undermining him at every turn.

"I would question him," Cristian finished.

"Well, no shit," Bowman said, resisting the urge to punch him. One day he wouldn't resist, and that would feel good.

Cade had started a small fire with tinder at one end of the pile. At Bowman's nod, he fanned it to life, and a flame went up.

At first, the fire only crackled a little, but then the pyre caught. The  fire zoomed around the tinder, staying confined, and caught the body.

Shifters were adept at building funeral pyres. They never buried one of  their own; Shifter souls were released to the Summerland by the  Guardian. Every Guardian had a sword that had been made centuries before  by a Shifter swordsmith and his Fae mate. The two of them had woven  spells into the swords so that, when the blade was thrust through the  heart of a dying or dead Shifter, the spells released the soul and  rendered the body dust.

The swords had passed down through the generations, one for each clan.  In the old days, however, whenever the clan's Guardian was too far away,  Shifters had burned their dead, which in theory also allowed the soul  to reach the Summerland.                       
       
           



       

A Shifter soul lingering near its body was susceptible to capture, so  the legends went, and torment. No Shifter wanted that for his father,  mother, son, daughter, brother, sister, best friend, pack mate. Even  this ferocious beast didn't deserve that. The Guardian was present  today, but where the thing's heart was, and whether the sword would work  on it, was anybody's guess. The fire would have to do.

The Shifters stepped back as the pyre burned, ceasing their shouting,  growling, snarling, and talking. Even Cristian became quiet.

Bowman stepped close to Kenzie. They gathered Ryan against them, the  fire warming the frigid air. Bowman heard Kenzie's whispered prayer to  the Goddess as the flames consumed the beast.

He liked the feeling of Kenzie's shoulder against his, her strength  answering his strength. Bowman was still weak after the fight and his  broken leg-not that he'd admit it-but Kenzie being next to him made all  the difference.

The fire burned a long time, but the Shifters watched. The beast had  been their enemy, but it had been out of place in this world, like the  Shifters, and the least they could do was send it off with respect.

"Dad," Ryan whispered, breaking the trance-like silence. "Who's that?"

He pointed. A woman stood well back from the ring of Shifters, watching  them. She was covered with a bulky jacket and wore a knit hat, but  Bowman recognized her. She was the pseudo-groupie who'd been at the  roadhouse two nights ago, the one Bowman had scared off by daring her to  go down on him.

Bowman broke from Ryan and Kenzie and strode toward her. She saw him coming and, of course, tried to run.

No human woman, especially not one hampered by a padded jacket and thick  boots, could outrun Bowman. She had a head start, but he grabbed her at  the top of the hill and barreled on with her until they reached the  arena. Jamie had driven away the abandoned semitruck, hiding it in a  place he said was safe. The arena was empty now, and Bowman swung the  woman around in the middle of it.

"Who the hell are you, and what are you doing spying on Shifters?"

"I'm not spying," she said, her voice shrill.

"What else do you call following Shifters around and watching what they do?"

Kenzie jogged into the arena, and after her, Goddess damn him, was Cristian.

"I just like Shifters, all right?" the woman said, her fear breaking through her defiance.

"You tried that one already," Bowman snapped. "Didn't work the last time."

She tried to wrench away from him. "Yeah, when you practically stripped in front of me."

"And if you'd been a groupie, you'd have had your hands on my cock so fast it wouldn't have been funny. You failed that test."

"I didn't touch you, because I knew you were mated." The woman looked past him to Kenzie, now a few feet behind Bowman.

"Bullshit," he said. "Groupies don't care. They just want the sex."

"All right. All right. So I'm not a groupie. Doesn't matter. I have  every right to be walking around these woods, and you have no right to  stop me."

Bowman leaned close to her. The woman tried to look everywhere but at  his eyes, but Bowman locked her gaze to his. "I'm leader of this  Shiftertown. That means I deal with whatever threat I see to any  Shifters in it. You, sweetheart, are a threat."

"What's your name?" Kenzie asked her.

Bowman felt the woman tighten. She wanted to glance at Kenzie, but she  couldn't look away from Bowman. "Answer her," Bowman said.

"Serena." The woman swallowed. "I'm a reporter, like you said. I'm doing a piece-on Shifter groupies."

"She is lying," Cristian said. "I scent it, and so do you."

Serena's eyes widened. They were brown eyes, with a touch of green, her  hair light brown under the cap. Her face was narrow, her nose sharp, and  she wasn't very old. Maybe early twenties, as humans figured things.  Still a cub, by Shifter standards.

"No, really," Serena said quickly. "I am doing a piece on Shifters. On all aspects of Shifter life."

"Including following them into the woods to watch one of their religious rituals?" Bowman demanded.

"Absolutely." Serena grew more confident. "Plus, I saw what you were  fighting that night. I drove off, but I came back, and saw . . . What  was it?"

"We don't know," Kenzie said before Cristian could volunteer any  information. Not that he was about to. Cristian disliked humans even  more than he disliked Bowman.

Serena sniffled, her nose red and raw from the cold and smoke. "A  Shifter? I couldn't make it out, but it was big. One of the bears?"