Midnight Wolf (Shifters Unbound #11)(42)

He turned off the engine and the lights, letting the quiet and stillness fill the cab. “I’ll go in and see what he wants. You and Ciaran use the bed, try to get some sleep.”

“No way,” Ciaran said immediately, his words echoed by Tamsin’s, “Nothing doing.”

“We stick together,” Ciaran finished.

“He’s right.” Tamsin unbuckled her seat belt. “Whatever this Dylan wants, we face it. Besides, there’s nothing to say he won’t have some of his guys stationed out here to nab us while you’re talking to him. Dylan sounds like the type to have henchmen, am I right? Trackers loyal to him?”

Tamsin was completely correct. Angus was one of those henchmen now, and Dylan would expect Angus to obey him.

“Anyway,” Tamsin said, not realizing Angus had already agreed. “This looks like a decent place to get some shut-eye. I’d prefer a bed that isn’t on wheels.”

“All right. We all go.” Angus bent a glare on Ciaran. “But both of you, stay quiet. No talking until we find out what Dylan wants. I mean it, Ciaran. He can be tricky, and his motives aren’t always clear.”

Ciaran looked puzzled. “He’s one of the good guys, isn’t he? He doesn’t like Shifter Bureau either.”

“Dylan is his own person.” Angus knew this for a fact. “He’s on the side of Shifters, yes, but that doesn’t mean we can trust him completely.”

Dylan had been known to kill Shifters, and even humans, who endangered other Shifters, especially those who endangered his family.

Sean’s directions led them to a room on the second floor in the back of the motel, the position Angus would have chosen. The motel was in a U shape around a central pool, with all doors facing inward. From the room in the center back, Dylan could watch all comings and goings.

Angus had Ciaran firmly by one hand, with Tamsin holding Ciaran’s other hand. Angus didn’t think Dylan would hurt a cub—he was a doting grandfather to his sons’ cubs—but Angus had no intention of letting Ciaran be anywhere but plastered to his side.

Angus knocked. The door was opened, cautiously, not by Dylan but by his son Sean, a Shifter with deep black hair and very blue eyes. The hilt of the Sword of the Guardian stuck up over his shoulder.

Sean was a little more easygoing than his older brother, Liam, and far more than his father, Dylan. Guardians tended to be more thoughtful than other Shifters, having seen enough of death to not want to court it.

Sean’s presence either meant Dylan was in a negotiating mood, or that he’d need someone to quickly send their dead bodies to dust.

No one spoke until all three visiting Shifters were inside and Sean closed the door.

“Dylan,” Angus said in greeting.

Dylan, who waited in the exact center of the room, had hair as dark as Sean’s and eyes as blue. The only sign of Dylan’s venerable three hundred years of age was a bit of gray hair at his temples.

“Angus,” Dylan returned. He gave Ciaran a cordial nod as well—Dylan did not like to pretend cubs weren’t in the room.

Sean moved to the cabinet under the television and opened it to reveal a small refrigerator. “Want anything? I have water and . . . water. No minibar in this room, such a sad thing.”

“Ciaran will have a water,” Angus rumbled.

Sean came out of the refrigerator with two water bottles dripping with condensation. He handed one to Ciaran, who looked pleased at being waited on by Sean, a Shifter he admired.

Sean held out the second bottle to Tamsin, giving her an inquiring look.

“I’ll take a large latte with whipped cream and a mountain of chocolate sprinkles,” Tamsin said, and shrugged. “Or I could settle for water.” She gave Sean one of her giant smiles as she accepted the bottle from him. She opened it and leaned back to drink half of it down. “Ahh,” she said as she came up, swiping her hand across her mouth. “I needed that.”

Ciaran watched her in fascination, and then mimicked her. “Ahh. I needed that too.”

Sean’s eyes twinkled, but Dylan became suddenly more watchful.

What had he expected—a meek, terrified little Shifter falling at Dylan’s feet and begging him to be gentle with her?

Maybe not, but Dylan obviously had expected Tamsin to be cowed and nervous. Tamsin was nervous, Angus could tell from the way she clutched the bottle, but she wasn’t about to let Dylan and Sean see that.

“What do you want?” Angus asked without preliminary. “We’re tired, and Ciaran needs to sleep.”

“I want to talk.” Dylan gestured to one of the beds. “Ciaran can lie down if he needs to.”

“I’m not tired.” Ciaran’s sagging body contradicted the statement, but he lifted his chin in defiance.

Tamsin walked past Sean and then gave a sudden twisting leap to land on one of the beds, her back to the headboard. “Come and sit with me, Ciaran,” she said, patting the covers. “We’ll let the big bad Shifters talk.”

Ciaran went readily to the bed, setting his bottle on the nightstand, and climbed up to settle in next to Tamsin, his back to the headboard. Tamsin smiled down at him as Ciaran snuggled into her, and slid her arm around him.

Sean took a chair from the desk and straddled it wrong way around, resting his arms on its back. Dylan remained standing, and so did Angus.