"Mr. McDunphy?" she asked.
"Nobody calls me that. You know my name is Bear." The Coven Nine no doubt had extensive dossiers on him. They probably knew his shoe size, favorite color, and how many freckles he had on his back. He rubbed a hand through his shaggy hair. It reached his shoulders now. While his people weren't enemies of the witch nation any longer, he still didn't like witches. At all. Except for one, and that was because she was his sister.
His memories flooded all the way back in. Ah ha-the trespasser's name. "Why are you here, Nessa?"
"You do remember my name." Her focus landed on his chest and moved to his left arm. She gave a slight shake of her head as if to concentrate. "That's, ah, a very nice tattoo."
He glanced down at the talons over his left bicep and shoulder that led to a black dragon across his back. "Thank you." He pushed himself off the door, noting her eyes instantly widening.
So she was afraid of him. At least a little bit. Good.
She cleared her throat. "A dragon. How apropos," she murmured, her focus remaining on the tat.
He lifted his head, staring at her through heavy lids. His chest heated. "Don't even think of going there, little girl. Ever."
She shivered but met his gaze directly. "That's why I'm here."
He blinked. Once. "Then it's time you left." He moved to open the door.
"I can help you," she said.
He paused, looking over his shoulder. "I don't need help."
Her snort was unladylike and somehow adorable. "Sure you don't. Look at you. You've lost substantial weight since I saw you in Ireland."
He turned quickly, gratified when she took a step back, putting her flush against the stove again. There were yards between them, but they both knew he could get there, and fast. Yet as a witch, she had powers, too. So why was she afraid? "I've been on a diet," he lied. His neck started to pound, and his bare feet swelled. His lungs hurt. Hell. Everything hurt. Yet he refused to wince.
She rolled her stunning eyes. "You screwed up, Bear."
"Did I now?" he asked softly.
She swallowed. "Aye. You know as well as I that species, immortal species, can take one form and one form only." She wiped her small hands down her slim skirt.
"Time to leave, Nessa," he said, reaching for the doorknob behind his back. Not in a million years was he going to talk about his health or his lineage with a witch. Even one as pretty and intriguing as the one staring at him . . . and not moving. When he told people to move, they usually moved. "Don't make me kick your pretty ass out."
"You're dying." Her head lifted. "Period."
Yeah, he was. If three months spent mostly in bear form hadn't healed him, then it wasn't gonna happen. "Leave me to it, then." Patience had never been in his arsenal, and he was done. The door opened easily, and then he turned to head straight at her, windy rain in his wake, his bare feet slapping the cold floor.
She held up both hands, her eyes widening as she pressed back against the porcelain stove. "Wait a minute. Just wait. Let me explain."
He stopped two feet from her. What was up with the damsel-in-distress act? In his current state, she could probably take him. "Why aren't you throwing fire?" Witches could alter physics and create plasma fire out of air, and the stuff really burned.
She rolled her eyes and reached behind her to clasp the edge of the cooktop. "We're not in a fight, for goodness' sake. I just want to engage in conversation like civilized people."
He leaned toward her, scenting both fear and awareness. "I'm neither civilized nor part of people." He was a bear shifter, for Christ's sake. One who had to get his affairs in order rather quickly. While he'd like to mess around with the witch, and he'd love to get her out of her head and that dignified suit, he didn't have time. "There's nothing to talk about."
She looked up at least a foot to meet his gaze. "You tore yourself apart on a metaphysical level when you shifted into dragon form so many times three months ago."
The hair rose at the base of his neck. His temper stretched awake. "Tell me something I don't know." His father had been a dragon shifter, and his mother a bear shifter. Shifters could only have one true form, and his was as a bear. Shifting into dragon form had been suicide. "But it was worth it."
Nessa's breath panted out. "It was?"
"Yes." He took another step toward her. Shifting into dragon form had been necessary to save his half sister, and he'd known the risk. The cost. But Simone was safe now, so he didn't regret a moment. "Tell me you're not here to study me." As part dragon who'd been actually able to shift into the form, he was an anomaly.