Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(16)

Angus, on the other hand, had chosen to live in captivity and round up Shifters like Tamsin.

He’d showered sometime while she’d been asleep, and his skin smelled of soap, his black hair damp. He’d trimmed his beard, which brushed his jaw and chin without hiding it. This close she could see the tiny lines around his eyes, and the glittering gray of those eyes, clear and now full of concern.

A bouncer, Ben had said. Angus had the strength and the bulk for that job, but also the caring. Bouncers were protectors—they kept out the troublemakers and expelled those endangering others.

Tamsin felt hard muscles through his T-shirt, and she’d seen plenty of them when they’d run around the woods. He was clean, solid, and steady—attractive. Tamsin, on the other hand, was hurt, smelly, and disheveled, and she wouldn’t say no to a bath. Foxes weren’t quite as fastidious as cats, but they came close.

“You all right?” Angus asked her, his voice vibrating through her.

Damn it, don’t let him make me believe he cares. He’s healing me, so I don’t croak before he gets me to Shifter Bureau.

“Hmm.” Tamsin pretended to consider. “I’m being held prisoner in a weird house with a wolf and a goblin, an alligator tried to eat me, and you’re going to drag me to Shifter Bureau. I’d say the answer is no, I’m not all right.”

She held herself rigid to keep tears from coming. That was all she needed—to break down into a blubbering fool in front of her captor. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Zander can take away the pain at least,” Angus said. “He’s asking you to come down because he says he needs space.”

“Space for what?”

Angus’s shrug moved his body against her. “Hell if I know. I don’t know him that well, but he’s a good healer. Come on.”

He guided her toward the door. Tamsin hissed as her arm moved, and Angus stopped her, gently peeling the bandages away.

The wound did not look good. Her skin was lacerated to the bone, and blood had seeped out again, as had yellow pus. Tamsin shivered, which didn’t help the pain.

Angus replaced the towel, concern in his eyes. He steered her to the door, his arm still around her, and they went out into the hall, where he guided her to the stairs. Ben was waiting at the bottom, looking up at them anxiously.

Damn it, why were they both being so nice? Ben and Angus weren’t her friends. It would be a big mistake to like them and start to trust them. She’d been down that road before.

Tamsin knew that without Angus supporting her every step of the way down the stairs, she would have fallen. Her right arm wouldn’t move at all, she was weak, and she wanted to barf.

A breeze sprang up outside as they reached the ground floor. Wind chimes on the back porch fluttered and rang, the sound soothing and somehow easing her nausea.

Angus led her down the hall and through a set of double doors into a huge room hung with crystal chandeliers, which were fully lit. The drapes had been pulled back on the room’s three long windows, letting in the dawn light.

This was a dining room, Tamsin saw, but they’d moved the table and chairs against the far wall. The room was big enough to be a ballroom, and maybe once upon a time it had been.

A man and a woman, both Shifters, waited in the middle of the room. The man was enormous. He was taller than any Shifter Tamsin had ever seen, and had a dark, close-cut beard like Angus’s and snow-white hair. Not because he was old—his hair was a pure white-blond, like a Viking’s. Most of his hair was short, but two braids full of beads hung down on either side of his face. He wore a long black duster coat and motorcycle boots over jeans and a black T-shirt. The most striking thing about this Shifter, however, was that he had no Collar.

The woman next to him did have one. Her dark hair hung in one long braid, and she wore a duster coat to match the man’s. The most striking thing about her was the broadsword on her back, its hilt sticking up over her left shoulder.

A Guardian.

“Shit,” Tamsin whispered.

Guardians didn’t guard Shifters’ bodies—they guarded their souls. When a Shifter died or was on the brink of death without hope, the Guardian came and drove his broadsword loaded with Fae magic into said Shifter’s heart, which dissolved the body to dust, and released the Shifter’s soul to the afterlife. Tamsin had heard the story of the Choosing for a new Guardian in Montana, and for the first time in Shifter recorded history, the Goddess had chosen . . . a woman.

“You’re her,” Tamsin said in astonishment.

The woman’s dark brows went up. “I’m Rae Moncrieff. Is that what you mean?”

“You all think I need a Guardian?” Watery fear swamped her. Tamsin usually didn’t lose it in front of people, but she started to shake. She was going to the Summerland now? She wanted to say good-bye to her mother, kick some Shifter Bureau ass, free all Shifters . . . she had way too much to do to die today.

“Have a little more faith in my skill,” the big man next to Rae rumbled. “You look bad, sweetie, but I can fix it. Rae only came with me because she’s my mate. And last time I was here, I went on an adventure, and she got worried, and well, you know . . .” He made a vague motion with his huge hand.

“I told him he wasn’t going on another one without me.” Rae’s gray eyes twinkled. “I can’t let him have all the fun. But don’t worry. Zander’s the best. Let her sit down at least, Angus. The poor thing is about to fall over.”