“She’s a queen bitch,” Myka said, approaching. “Great cutting horse in the ring, when it counts, but when she knows it’s just practice, she’s a devil. She’s put me on the ground more than a few times.”

The mare glanced at Myka, dismissed her, and moved her gaze back to Spike. Her eyes were wider than usual, her nostrils flaring as she took in his Shifter scent.

Spike looked human—mostly—but the mare’s little brain was telling her she should be worried. Or should she? Humans were wusses, only useful for bringing her food, grooming her, or telling her how good she was.

Spike growled. The sound was soft but floated across the corral to the pricked ears of the mare. The mare’s head jerked up, eyes now ringed with white. She whirled around, kicking dirt behind her, and ran the few yards to gelding’s corner to try to hide behind him.

Myka laughed. “Karma,” she called to the mare. “Gets you every time.”

Spike gave the horses one last growl and led Myka to her truck.

As Myka drove back to Shiftertown, Spike listened to her tale of the meeting. She tried to speak lightly, but her distress came to him through her voice, the tightening of her lips and eyes, the change in her scent.

The stables were important to her—they were her territory, Spike sensed, more than her little house was. Her house was where she slept and kept her stuff. The stables were her life.

Good thing Spike would be able to do something about that.

When they reached Shiftertown, a car that had been dogging them ever since the stables abruptly pulled around them and raced off.

Damn it to hell. “Follow him!”

Myka shot Spike a startled look but stepped on the gas. The Shifter was good, though. He darted through traffic and swung onto the busy Airport Boulevard, heading into town and toward the I-35.

“Forget it,” Spike said. “Back to Shiftertown.”

Myka took the next turn and went around the block without missing a beat, heading back the way they’d come. “One of Gavan’s?” she asked. She gripped the wheel with tight, white-knuckled hands. “He’s really serious.”

“He’s screwed. Drop me off at Liam’s.”

Phone calls were too tame for Spike’s fighting blood. He needed action, to kill, to protect, and he needed it now.

Myka asked no questions but drove to the house, following his directions. She understood why he was pissed off, and through his rage, Spike knew that he’d been right about her being the mate for him.

The Morrissey house teemed with activity. Connor was in the backyard looking after Katriona, Kim already having left for her office. Sean and Andrea were in the kitchen cleaning up from breakfast—or at least Sean was cleaning up while Andrea rested her pregnant body on a chair and gave him encouragement.

Liam sat on the edge of a sagging sofa on the back porch, watching Connor set up blocks in the grass for Katriona to knock over.

Liam rose when Spike came charging up. Connor too looked up, tensing, glancing behind Spike to Myka.

“Spike,” Liam said, keeping his voice neutral. “Top o’ the morning to you.”

“Cut the rustic Irishman crap. I want that damned Feline dead. Gavan wants to get rid of weak Shifters so bad, let’s start with him. Round up the other trackers and bring Sean. We’ll need the sword.”

“Whoa.” Liam raised his hands and fixed Spike with his leader stare. “Calm yourself, lad. What’s he done?”

“What’s he done? He’s threatening my family to make me play his games. He had Myka followed home, then an ass**le followed us this morning. If you don’t want to kill him, fine. I’ll do it myself.”

“No you won’t.”

Spike’s anger grated in his throat. “Why the hell not?”

“Because Gavan didn’t send the Shifters after Myka,” Liam said calmly. “I did.”

Chapter Twelve

Feral rage made everything red.

“You sent them.” The words came out harsh and staccato. “What the f**k?”

Sean stepped out onto the porch behind Liam, leaving Andrea inside. Connor scooped up Katriona and carried her a little way away. Keep the females and cubs safe from the Spike the dangerous fighter in case he loses it.

“It’s my job,” Liam said. Sean didn’t move, but his distance from Liam was perfect for backing him up. “Every human coming to Shiftertown gets checked out.”

Spike knew that. Liam even had found out everything he could about Kim, his own mate, when he’d first met her. Spike had been sent on such reconnaissance missions himself.

“You didn’t ask me,” Spike said. “You didn’t tell me. You just did it.”

“You were busy.”

Spike wanted to kill him. The push was there, rising in him like black mire, urging him to lock his hands around Liam’s throat and lift the man off his feet.

Spike held himself back by willpower alone, a tiny part of his brain telling him to keep himself planted where he was.

But he could best Liam if he fought him. He knew it.

Looking into Liam’s eyes, Spike saw that Liam knew it too.

Spike’s hands curved to wildcat claws. “Back off. You stay away from my cub, and you stay away from my mate.”

Liam’s gaze darted to Myka, who stood behind Spike. Spike knew exactly how many paces she stood from him, exactly how long it would take him to get to her and take her to safety.

“Mate, is it?” Liam asked, looking at Spike.