Unleashed by Shadows (By Moonlight Book 10) Read online

  She looked back at her prince, her king, her love, eyes welling with emotion. And her mind with questions.

  In the dim light, she could read the exhaustion hidden earlier by darkness and urgency. Fatigue from something far beyond the athletics in the living room left smudges beneath his eyes. Bruises discolored the smoothness of a momentarily carefree brow and marked his stubbled jaw. He’d been fighting.

  Her own brow furrowed as she puzzled over his empty earlobe. Where was his diamond, the mate to her own? Why had he removed the symbol of his commitment to her?

  As if feeling her scrutiny, Cale raised heavy eyelids, his gaze the soft gray of a predawn sky. He regarded her in drowsy surprise. A smile spread slow and sultry.

  “Hey, baby,” he whispered, voice rough with sleep and pleasure. “Was afraid I was dreaming. But you’re here.”

  Her hand slid along his rough cheek in a gentle caress. “Where I belong.” Something he seemed to have forgotten.

  “Mmmm. Yes.” He kissed her fingertips, eyes slipping closed once more. “Don’t go. Can’t sleep when you’re not beside me. You calm my soul.”

  She smiled. “Are you sure that’s not from the great sex?”

  A husky chuckle. “I’m sure.”

  Her heart took a tender twist, but before she could respond, he drifted back into that much needed slumber, still holding her palm against his face.

  He’d tossed off most of the covers, as he usually did toward morning, baring him down to the curve of his hip. He made a low, contented sound as her hand moved from beneath his to stroke along his strong, hard outline, but he didn’t stir. More ugly bruising dappled his ribs. What exactly had he been doing for Silas here in New Orleans to incur such damage to body and peace of mind?

  She could only imagine, because all her long distance questions had been met by vague non-answers.

  Though they’d known each other all their lives, intimacy was an exciting new development. They’d just begun their journey together as bonded mates and leaders of their clan, spending daylight hours meeting with the remaining eight princes of the House of Terriot, with their families and their people, reviewing policies, hearing grievances, making plans to improve and protect their situation. And spent their nights enthusiastically working toward the creation of an heir. The first showed promise. The second bore no fruit. As yet.

  At Silas’s call, Cale had surprised them all by going to New Orleans, something a Terriot king would never think to do alone. Just some quick business, he’d said, stuffing a few things into his bike’s saddlebag. He’d be back before she had a chance to miss him. Business that kept him away and mostly incommunicado for almost three weeks.

  He’d called every day, as promised. At first, their conversations oozed with restless longing and chafing innuendo. Gradually, those talks grew brief and edged with evasion. He vowed he was okay, that everything was fine. And he was lying. She knew it. She knew him. She heard it in his voice, sensed it in what he wasn’t saying. And she’d gotten increasingly worried. Was he in trouble? Was he hurt, afraid, in danger? He’d never admit to those things, not with so many states and secrets between them.

  What was keeping him in New Orleans?

  Perhaps it was time to go to the source.

  *

  After pulling her travel-worn clothing back on, Kendra took that quick, stealthy walk of shame to the bathroom next to their borrowed room and did her best to wash off the scent of their reunion. With hair finger combed, she stepped into the hall and started toward the scent of coffee. No Silas. Just his disapproving mate standing on the other side of the breakfast bar. Kendra offered a faint testing-the-waters smile.

  “Good morning.”

  Nica had no comment on whether it was or wasn’t. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please. Cream and sugar.” She glanced about uneasily. “Is Silas still sleeping?”

  “You just missed him. He had to go into work early. He said to make yourself at home.” Obviously an offer from him alone.

  Kendra expected hostility to rumble beneath that invitation, but there was none. For the moment. So she murmured, “I always seem to be showing up uninvited to take advantage of your hospitality. Thank you for your tolerance.” She wasn’t foolish enough to think the other female welcomed her presence any more now than she had then.

  Without responding, Nica came out from behind the counter.

  Some things had changed.

  Kendra’s initial impression of her cousin’s deadly, soon-to-be mate had been that of a sleek, sinewy predator. Loving Silas MacCreedy had brought the cold mercenary into his community fold and into his bed. And the result of both was evident in her softened appearance. And in the slight rounding of her middle.

  “Congratulations.”

  Nica’s hand went protectively to the swell of her abdomen. She extended the coffee with a guarded smile. “Thank you.”

  “Silas will be a wonderful father, just like his own. I wish you could have met his parents. They were extraordinary.”

  “Our son will know them through him.”

  “Son? It’s a boy?”

  Nica’s smile softened. “Yes.”

  Kendra concealed an unworthy bite of envy as they moved toward the sectional sofa. Cheeks coloring hotly, she stepped around the coffee table that limped sadly with one broken leg. Nica didn’t mention it so neither did she. They perched on separate pieces of furniture like the wary strangers they were.

  “Silas didn’t tell me you were coming to visit.”

  Kendra smiled at the subtle censure. “An impulse of the moment. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Those jewel bright sapphire eyes studied her for a beat beyond comfortable until Kendra grew certain the surprise hadn’t been a welcomed one. That if notice had been given, she’d have been told to stay away.

  What were they doing that they needed to hide from her?

  “Has Cale made arrangements for you?” How polite, that sharp stab.

  “We haven’t had a chance to discuss them. Isn’t he staying at Max Savoie’s?”

  “Not at the moment. You’ll have to ask him.”

  How embarrassing to admit that she had no insider information on her mate’s living situation. She brazened on, determined to uncover something, anything.

  “He hadn’t intended to stay so we never made long range plans. Did matters become more complicated than you’d expected?”

  Nica stared right through her, spotting her ignorance, but thankfully, didn’t rub her nose in it. “You might say that. Silas can fill you in.” Insinuating Cale wouldn’t.

  What were they up to?

  Before she could demand to know, a loud curse sounded from down the hall. She got a brief glimpse of bare skin as Cale, clothes bundled in his arms, ducked into the bathroom. She and Nica waited in awkward silence for him to reappear, hurriedly dressed and in a rush.

  “Hey, mama.”

  Kendra lifted her face as he bent over her, but it wasn’t for a kiss. He grabbed her coffee and gulped it down, scolding, “Why didn’t you wake me? I’m gonna be late.”

  “For what?”

  But he was already straightening, going still when his gaze collided with Nica’s narrowed glare.

  “You broke my coffee table,” she accused.

  He flashed a wicked grin. “I’ll replace it.” A wink at Kendra. “Well worth the cost. Gotta go.”

  Then he wheeled toward the door without another thought.

  “Cale!”

  When he turned back impatiently to see how stunned she was by his behavior, his mood softened. Hands bracketing her face, he bent to kiss her, his hurry forgotten at the first soft brush. He settled in for a thorough appreciation of her lips.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered against her tender mouth. “I’ve been running loose too long, not thinking of anyone but myself. I’m being an ass. I haven’t told you I love you. And how glad I am to see you.”

  Huge dark eyes teared up as his adored her. She cou
ld almost forget her frustration when he stripped his soul bare that way. Almost.

  “Where are you going? Or is that a secret, too?”

  He winced at her sarcasm. “To work. I’m gonna get my butt kicked if I don’t make tracks. Can I borrow your bike?”

  Her brows furrowed. “Work?”

  “I do know how, you know. There’s more to me than just great biceps, a big ego, and a bigger bank account.” He grinned, giving her another lusty kiss before glancing hopefully at Nica. “Can she stay here until I get back?”

  Nica waved a hand. “Apparently my house is your house.”

  He nodded at her unenthusiastic charity. “Thanks.” To Kendra, a quick, “Back later this afternoon,” and he was gone.

  After a long silence, Nica muttered, “He really is an ass.”

  “Tell me about it,” Kendra sighed in agreement. “But it’s a nice ass, and it’s mine.”

  That amused her hostess. She had a pleasant laugh, deep and rich and honest. “Feel free to shower and change.”

  “All I brought with me is on my back,” she confessed.

  Then, another surprise. “Since Brigit isn’t here to give you a tour of all the best shops, I could stand in for her. I know my way around a gold card.”

  Kendra hesitated, startled by an offer that seemed to have no ulterior motive. Finally, she relaxed, accepting the unexpected kindness. “That would be wonderful.”

  *

  “You’re late, Terry!”

  The warning growl of his foreman’s voice was the last thing Cale needed. Caught jogging along the waterfront toward his lift truck, he made an apologetic gesture. “I know. I know. Sorry. You can dock my pay.”

  “I doan give a damn about the pay, just the performance,” Philo Tibideaux clarified. “And if you ain’t here, it ain’t getting done. Got it?”

  “Yeah, boss.”

  Tibideaux snagged his arm as he tried to scoot by, jerking him to a standstill. His foreman inhaled slowly and scowled at the musky scent of unshowered male and lusty sex. “You just getting outta bed? That the problem?”

  A cheeky grin. “It wasn’t mine. And it won’t be a problem.”

  “Better not be. Got no time to waste on them wasting mine.”

  “Gotcha.”

  Philo sighed, irritated and grumpy because everyone except him seemed to be doing something besides sleeping in their beds. “Clean up in the trailer. Woan get any work outta any of you if they get a whiff of what you been doing and the macho BS starts up. Go on now. Make up the time on your lunch hour.”

  “Yessir.”

  Mood sour and instincts twitching, Philo watched the newly hired Mick Terry hustle toward the office trailer. Something was off about the deceptively slight fellow. On the job, he was hard working, no trouble, with a smart mouth that got laughs instead of complaints. All that was good. Tib wished he had more with Terry’s ferocious work ethic. What he couldn’t figure was what a man like him was doing on the docks, breaking his back for non-union wage.

  Though he walked the walk and talked the talk, Terry was no itinerant bayou boy or bar thug. His relaxed speech, though colorfully profane, was educated, his tone slightly drawling but more western twang than lazy Louisiana patois. Although he dressed simply, there was nothing discount store about the tailoring of his shirts or in the stitching of his jeans and custom boots. He had money, had either come from it and lost it, or was running away from it. And he was whip-sharp when it came to catching on to anything to do with numbers or the quickest way to get something done. A natural leader, not a follower.

  Philo respected a man’s desire for privacy, having a secret or two to protect of his own. But if Mick Terry had been placed on his crew for any reason other than the sweat on his brow and bulge of his biceps, Tib would just as soon know why.

  “Hey, T-Ray!” He waved over a huge longshoreman whose greasy coveralls contrasted with the red-lensed sunglasses and white Mohawk he sported. “What’s the 411 on Terry? You vouched for him to join the Patrol.”

  T-Ray Roux ruffled a hand through his stiff albino bristle and shrugged. “Doan know much about him. Good worker. Tipped a few after hours with him and Poe-Boy, but he doan say much ‘bout hisself. Got a right fine lookin’ lady, though.” A smirk. “Can’t say I’d be brave enough to poach off Max Savoie’s territory.”

  Tibideaux frowned. “Detective Hot Stuff?” Not very damned likely!

  “Oh, hell no. The stripper, the one with the red hair and killer Ta-Tas.” He brought his hands up to make huge cups at chest level, bouncing them up and down for emphasis.

  “Manny Blu’s girl?”

  “Yeah, that’s her. She were all over him at the Sweat Shop last week. Left with her, the lucky bastard.”

  Philo mulled that over, feeling more, not less, suspicious. “T, I want you to get tight with him. Find out what you can without him getting wind of it.”

  T-Ray shuffled his feet uneasily. “You thinkin’ he’s up to no good?”

  “Doan know what he’s up to, and I doan like surprises. There’s a bonus in it for you.”

  “Well, awrighty then. Consider us best buds.”

  Philo wasn’t reassured. He stood out in the hazy morning, waiting for Terry to emerge from the trailer, following his jaunty strut to where his work waited for him. Tib’s supervisor and former best friend Jacques LaRoche had placed the outsider on his crew without sharing his paperwork. Why? Was Terry there to watch him, to see if he was cooking up trouble? He hoped not. He wanted to believe what he saw, what he’d heard when Terry approached him asking to join his paramilitary Patrol that policed the supernatural edges of the Quarter. To protect the place he now called home and those he was proud to call friends, was what he’d said.

  But if Mick Terry was associating with Detective Charlotte Caissie afterhours in her undercover guise, he could bet his sweet ass it wasn’t for hanky panky.

  And he wasn’t willing to put said ass on the line for anyone except himself. Not anymore.

  *

  Cale parked the borrowed bike in the alley behind Cheveux du Chien and slipped inside the Shifters Only club through the rear door. Chances of him being spotted by anyone on his work crew were slim since the fall out between Tibideux and its owner, their dock super Jacques LaRoche, but he was still cautious. He liked the bold and bawdy LaRoche and his family. Hanging around them made him feel closer to his own. That’s why he’d asked Nica to bring Kendra with her when she started her shift behind the bar as its new manager. He’d picked the location as neutral territory for what he had to do.

  Nica spotted him and waved him toward the club’s office. He ducked inside, conscious of his grimy appearance in comparison to the vision rising up from the leather couch.

  The naughty biker girl from the night before had disappeared, replaced by the delicately beautiful female he’d loved and longed for all his life. He took a moment, just breathing her in.

  “Hey, mama.” The rest of his intended greeting jammed up tightly. They eyed each other like awkward strangers after a one night stand. Because in many ways, that’s what they still were.

  “Hard work looks good on you.”

  The soft stroke of her words stirred a confusion of desire and uncertainty. He stayed put, expression masked. “Maybe, but I stink so you should probably keep your distance.”

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t deterred. “I like the way sweat smells on you. That hasn’t changed since last night.” When he didn’t respond, her intuitive look asked if something else had, if he had some other motive for keeping her at arm’s length.

  He nodded at her new outfit. “That’s pretty.” He didn’t mention the way his palms itched to test the soft textures of drapy fabric clinging temptingly at breasts and hips. Or that he was already plotting the fastest way to get it off her.

  “Nica took me to get a few things since Bree isn’t back from her honeymoon yet. Have you heard from her?”

  “No. Why would I? You know I’m not her favorite p
erson. That would be you. You and Silas and Bree, the Three Musketeers.” He still felt a surprising pang of exclusion from the inseparable cousin, brother and sister threesome. He’d thought their bonding would ease those old wounds but it hadn’t. Not yet. His fault for leaving when he should have stayed. “She should be back in a few days.”

  “Will I be here, or are you in a hurry to send me home?”

  His thoughts took a guilty turn at her too astute question. He wasn’t sure how to fit her unscheduled arrival into his present plans. He finally shrugged. “You’re here now. You might as well wait for her. She’d murder me if she missed you.”

  Kendra’s eyes dampened, deepening his discomfort. “Thank you. Where would you like me to stay?”

  “What kind of a question is that?” he wanted to demand in irritation. But, she had every right to ask, considering the way he’d been distancing himself from their new relationship. He settled for a glib, “We’ll figure something out.”

  His vague reply earned a nod and that uncomfortable silence settled once again. He spent a long minute devouring the sight of her standing so near, yet impossibly far away. Finally, he gathered the courage to ask what was really on his mind.

  “Did you come all the way here because you had something to tell me that was too special to say over the phone?” His brows lifted expectantly, his gaze going soft and hopeful.

  After taking his meaning, she swallowed hard, whispering, “No. I’m sorry. No news.”

  She couldn’t miss the way his anticipation fell to disappointment, but his voice remained smooth and warm. “It’s okay. You let me know when you know.”

  He should have gone to her right then. But he held back, going for the small cooler where LaRoche kept drinks. He bypassed the beer in favor of water and after twisting off the top, drained the plastic bottle right to the bottom. Thickness still clogged his throat.

  “Have you heard from your brothers?”

  His glance flickered to her then away. “Not yet.” A faint smile. “Probably just waking up, the lazy bastards.”