He’d never want to come out, and his Shifters would tease him like hell, but it would be worth it.

Weeks wouldn’t be long enough. A month or two might suffice.

Kendrick had debated long and hard before choosing the place to meet Seamus. He wanted to be close enough to the ranch house to get back if anyone attacked while he was away, but far enough that he could keep the house a secret if necessary.

In the end, Kendrick had chosen a place about a mile from the ranch, down a slope where the house could not be seen. This field could be reached by roads that didn’t run past the ranch’s entrance.

Kendrick had actually told Seamus a different meeting place at first, but when Seamus called now and said he was nearby, Kendrick told him the real spot. Seamus declared good-naturedly that he’d see Kendrick soon, not at all surprised or offended by Kendrick’s precautions.

Open desert was one place where low ground could be good. The high ground offered no cover unless a person hunkered flat against the earth and hoped the weeds were tall enough to block him. Down in a dry wash, on the other hand, Kendrick could stand motionless in the shadows of well-clumped mesquite and keep watch.

Snakes liked it down here too. A thick-bodied diamondback came slithering through the wash, poking out its tongue to test Kendrick’s scent.

Kendrick growled, letting the rumble vibrate the wash’s floor. The snake snapped its tongue back in and flowed rapidly away under a cluster of rocks.

A man appeared on the horizon, striding without hurry toward the place Kendrick had told him to go. He was tall and lithe, with dark hair cut short and the sure stride of a Feline Shifter. A Collar glinted on his neck.

Kendrick’s heart gladdened. He hadn’t realized until this moment just how much he’d missed his trackers—Seamus’s good-sense opinions, Jaycee’s wicked humor, Dimitri rhapsodizing over every woman he met. Nothing could take away the comradeship that had been built over years . . . at least, Kendrick hoped not.

Seamus reached the gathering of brush Kendrick had chosen, checked his phone, and waited.

Kendrick let him stand there for a few minutes, making sure Seamus hadn’t been followed or wasn’t signaling anyone. Seamus only stood still, patient, unworried, knowing Kendrick would come when he was ready.

Finally, Kendrick moved from his cover and approached Seamus obliquely, staying out of sight until he was behind the other Shifter.

Seamus never turned around. He knew damn well Kendrick was there, but he only said, “Kendrick, my friend. I’ve missed you, ye shite.”

Kendrick reached Seamus’s side, and only then did Seamus turn. Kendrick’s relief when he studied Seamus’s steady golden eyes and saw no duplicity in them made him forget caution.

He opened his arms and enfolded Seamus into a warm embrace. Seamus’s strong arms came around Kendrick’s back, the welcome returned. The two men held each other close as a hot wind whipped by them, and Kendrick nuzzled Seamus’s cheek.

“My friend,” Kendrick said. “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kendrick breathed Seamus’s scent, letting the familiarity of it soothe his troubled soul. He’d been so afraid, so bloody afraid that Seamus would turn against him.

Kendrick drew back, hands still on the man’s shoulders. “So you want to take a mate, do you?” he asked, giving Seamus a wry look. “Did I hear you say she was a Shifter groupie?”

Seamus nodded, and his cheekbones stained red. “Bree is something special, Kendrick. You’d like her.”

Kendrick grinned. “Seamus, the loner; Seamus who lived to be tracker to his leader.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “I turn my back, and you pick up the closest woman and shack up with her.”