“This is our territory,” Talam shouted at the other teen.
Brown-haired and brown-eyed, Mateo was dirty and skinny like the other orphans in town. And, at thirteen, he was bigger than Talam.
Talam’s heart pounded furiously, but he held his ground. Sky stood behind his right shoulder, ready to fight.
Mateo glared, but his littermate, Alvaro, retreated. They might be bigger, but they already had three of Ailill Ridge’s streets and most of the square. They weren’t desperate.
Not like Talam and Sky.
“Fine. Just stay out of our area.” Mateo stalked after his littermate.
With a soft whine, Sky leaned against Talam’s shoulder. “That was close.”
Talam was shaking almost as much as Sky. “Yeah. I’m glad they didn’t really want to fight.” Most of the kids working for Mr. Wendell had ended up kinda friends.
“I guess they’re hungry too.” Sky sighed.
“We could check behind the café. In the dumpster.” Talam watched Mateo and Alvaro move near an older woman and start mock-fighting with each other. It was one of the pickpocket tricks Mr. Wendell had taught them.
Alvaro bumped into the woman and knocked her back a step.
The move was smooth and—
The huge shifter who’d caught Talam and Sky yesterday was heading straight toward Mateo and Alvaro.
“Hsst.”
Mateo glanced over, and Talam jerked his chin toward the cahir.
Making a clicking sound, Mateo warned his littermate and then yelled, “Yeah, try ‘n’ catch me, mutton-head brawd,” and ran away.
Holding his hands up, Alvaro smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, lady. I’m clumsy, yes?” and darted away. Within seconds, both kids disappeared around the corner.
The huge shifter stared after them, then his sharp gaze turned to Talam and Sky. His thick brows drew together.
He looked really mean.
With a squeak, Sky took off running, Talam right behind him.
Herne’s majestic maypole. Niall frowned as the younglings ran. Was there not one, but two pairs of pickpockets in town?
Seriously?
Foot up on a bench, he braced his arms on his thigh and took the time to think. He sure hadn’t when he caught the boys last time.
His time in the forest had been what he needed to gain some distance from his guilt about the trainees’ murders. When he’d trawsfurred, the sweet brush of the Mother’s love was reassurance he would be welcomed back when his days were totaled. He hadn’t realized how much he’d feared that his actions had been unforgivable.
Today, his brain functioned on all levels, and rather than two murdered trainees, he actually saw these cubs. They were far too thin. Too scraped up and dirty. Clothes in rags.
If they were Daonain, the clan had failed them, and André needed to act. If they were human, he’d see what the local government had in place to help the lads.
Of course, he needed to capture the cubs first. It was a shame the Chief of Police wouldn’t help.
Still frowning, he walked into the Shamrock.
At her tables, Heather stomped down to a stack of papers and tossed a new one on. She looked about as irritated as he felt. And wasn’t it interesting how just the sight of her lifted his mood?
“Problems?” He walked around the table to stand beside her.
“Would it be bad of me to staple a few of these receipts to Pete’s tail?” She tilted her head, looking up at him. “You look a bit grumpy yourself.”
“Aye. I saw your little pickpockets again—and possibly two more. I told André about them last night, but damn, rounding them up will be like trying to catch pixies.”
“As a cub, I never did catch a fairy.” Her smile died quickly. “I’ll keep an eye out for the boys. See if I can talk to them.”
“Good. I’ll do the same. Maybe leave them some food or something.”
Her smile blossomed, and she hugged him. “You’re a good male, cahir.”
“Nice to hear.” He inhaled, breathing her in. How could anyone resist a female who smelled so feminine? No artificial perfumes—just Heather. Her feminine scent was enticing, even without the faint rose fragrance from her homemade soap and shampoo.
Without thinking, he put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed his chin on the top of her lush hair.
She stiffened.
“Uh…” He grinned and lifted his hands. “Will you hurt me if I say I love your hair?”
Her expression held disbelief at his limp-tail comment, then she laughed. “Cahir, behave. I know you Gods-called are swamped by females. Grab one of them if you need your wood scratched.” The words sounded like a denial, but her eyes held a…challenge.
Well, now.
He held her gaze, even as he carefully tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Was he misreading her? “I’m not interested in them. You however…”
Her pupils dilated slightly, her scent changing, growing more compelling with a faint hint of arousal.
Ah, the interest was mutual. And she had hugged him, after all. Leaning down, he brushed her lips with his. “I miss living with you, a thaisce.”
She stared at him with those gorgeous blue-green eyes. Obviously unsure what to do—which was quite unusual for the infinitely practical lass.
A sound from the front caught his attention.
André stood in the doorway. He tilted his head, leaned against the door jamb, and waved for Niall to continue.
I can do that.
Fingers sliding through Heather’s hair, he cupped the back of her head, holding her as he truly kissed her. Her lips softened, opened, and he took it deeper.
When her arms curled around his waist, he flattened her against him. Was there anything headier than a strong female who wanted him?
But this wasn’t the time or the place.
Reluctantly, he lifted his head and placed light kisses over the freckles on her cheeks and nose. “We’ll continue this at another time,” he murmured, running his hands over her back and ass, learning the feel of her.
She pulled in a breath and retreated a step. “No. No, Niall, I can’t.”
Can’t? Not, “don’t want to”?
If he’d had his cat ears, they’d be perked forward. How long had it been since he’d had the joy of truly chasing a female? He looked over Heather’s head to his brother, who had silently crossed the room. “André, I like this one.”
His littermate smiled faintly. “I can see why.”
She backed away from them both, eyes wary—and cheeks flushed. Her scent held no true anger, just interest.
Oh yes, he really did want this one. For himself and his brothers.
This was so wrong. Heather backed away another step, trying not to breathe in the intriguing, heady mix of scents. The testosterone-laden fragrance was making her knees weak. Her breasts felt too full, her nipples hard and rubbing against the fabric.
She shook her head. Stop it.
She couldn’t deal with falling for a male, then having her heart and life shattered. Again. No, no, no. She’d already decided to avoid romantic entanglements.
It would be wise to be clear about her boundaries.
Straightening, she kept her tone easy. Casual. “Thanks for your interest; however, I only want friends in my life. Aside from Gatherings, I’m not interested in anything more.”
Niall looked as shocked as if she’d dug claws into his pride ‘n’ joys.
André, though, gave her a long, evaluating look. “A female always has a choice. Although I do wonder what prompted your decision.”
Oh spit. The Cosantir had the curiosity of a cat shifter coupled with a fearsome intelligence.
“Wondering is a waste of your valuable time. Let me show you something more important.” She motioned at the table. “I finished the audit of the clan’s assets.”
Edging around Niall, she started handing papers to André. “These are my audit findings for the last years of Pete’s guardianship. I sent copies to the Board of Directors.”
She handed him more. “Here is a list of properties with a status on each one.”
More papers. “And this list is an evaluation of the current investments with my recommendations for changes.”
“Nice.” Niall read over André’s shoulder. “Good suggestions.”
She handed over the last of the stack. “These contain information about how I reached my findings for the audit.”
André flipped to those pages. His flicker-fast smile appeared. “You surveyed other territories for information on what their Cosantirs normally receive for their personal funds?”
“Seriously?” Niall read for a bit. “You Cosantirs come cheap, brawd. My cahir stipend is higher.”
“Cahirs have to be able to leave their jobs to deal with ferals or hellhounds—and you might be injured,” André said mildly. “Cosantirs have a less stressful calling. We may need to raise the cahir stipend to attract more cahirs. One warrior isn’t nearly enough.”
“A raise would be nice.” Niall grinned.
Having watched Calum’s work for the benefit of the North Cascades Territory, Heather wasn’t convinced. “You know a lot about a Cosantir’s work.”
André shrugged. “I fostered with a grandfather who was Cosantir up in Quebec.”
So he knew what he was getting into. “I’ve not traveled much, not the way males do during their wandering years. I know Calum owns a bar, but how do other Cosantirs supplement their stipend?”
“Many either inherit a business or run one of the clan’s businesses,” André said.
Heather grinned. “Because none of you take orders worth a damn?”
“Precisely.” André’s smile flashed.
“They tend toward community-centered occupations—like downtown businesses,” Niall added. “A bar is unusual.”
“Calum is fond of the ambiance in Irish bars. His tavern is as family oriented as you can get in the US.” She had to admit she loved the Wild Hunt.
“Logical.” Niall frowned at André. “What are you going to do for a job, brawd?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” André shrugged. “It’s not as if we need money right away.”
Heather’s eyebrows lifted. Were they rich? She closed her mouth rather than asking.
“She has question marks in her eyes.” Niall teasingly tugged a lock of her hair. “Our mother was a bard and…mmm, rich. We still get royalties from the songs she sold to various human bands. And I must admit, cybersecurity jobs also pay the big bucks.”
André returned to studying the papers. “Even if we count the cash found in the realty office, Pete will still owe the clan money.”
“I’m afraid so. He and Roger also need to pay rent on their house since it belongs to the clan.” Heather shook her head. “Pete spent a lot of money in the last few years—and almost none of it for the clan.”
Niall scowled. “It’s depressing to know he started off as a good Cosantir.”
“True. Yet it’s heartening when the reverse happens. People can turn their lives around and move toward the light.” André bumped his brother’s shoulder. “Wendell’s fall is a fine reminder that vigilance is required to remain on the right side of the line. Even for cahirs with pretty hair, eh, brawd?”
Heather eyed the Cosantir. He’d reassured his brother, delivered a lesson, and teased him, all in the same breath. Cat-scat, no wonder the God had chosen him.
Finished with his chores for the day, Madoc walked into the Shamrock building and was pleased to see his brothers already there.
“This is a comfortable building,” André was telling Niall. “Maybe we should—”
Walking up behind them, Madoc slapped his hands down on their shoulders. “Keep your furry feline paws off my building.”
“Excuse me?” Niall’s light eyebrows rose. “What do you mean—yours?”
“Mine. Paperwork is complete.” Madoc looked at Heather who was sitting at the tables. “Ready to help with the next part?”
“I’m done with the clan account audit, so yes. Absolutely.”
She really was a nice female.
André turned in a circle, his gaze lingering on the counter in the back. “Was this a restaurant before?”
“And will soon be again.” Madoc rubbed his hands together like a raccoon with a new treat. “I’m figuring one different menu for each day of the week. Say, barbecue on Sundays, pizza on Saturdays. And so on.”
Niall scowled.
Madoc stiffened. Did his brother hate the idea of a restaurant? “What?”
“Now I’m really fucking hungry for pizza. Thanks, brawd.”
“Flabby feline.” Madoc shoved his asshole littermate hard enough he bounced off the wall.
The cahir just laughed.
“Did you get the warehouse in back too?” André glanced at the rear.
“Yep. And the small section off to the side. I guess it used to be a store.” Madoc smiled. “I bought it all, but I only need the restaurant part. You and Niall can have the other room and the warehouse for whatever you want.”
“I don’t need either, thanks.” Niall shook his head. “I’ll have a room at home for my office for cybersecurity work. I can get contracts, maybe even with the clans. It’s obvious the Cosantirs need instruction on security.”
Madoc hadn’t been with his brothers when the Scythe mercenaries attacked the festival, but from what he’d heard, it should never have happened.
“Good plan.” André eyed the door to the side section, then turned to look at the back of the room.
“What are you planning, Cosantir?” Heather asked.
“I think I will take the other section and the warehouse.”
Madoc blinked. “Both?”
“Aye. Come and tell me what you think.” André led Madoc and Niall through the arched double doors and into an adjoining room a quarter the size of the restaurant.
“That used to be a gift shop,” Heather called.
“And will be again.” André called back. “Yesterday, I learned our shifters have a wealth of craft and artistic talents. A gift shop featuring commissioned local crafts will bring in money for our clan members. I’ll run it as my business.”
“Huh.” Niall grinned. “I can set up an online store and catalogue for you.”
“I’ll take it.”
Madoc turned in a circle, imagining shelving, paintings, woven products. “The local fruits will make some fine jellies and jams.”
“Perfect. As for the other building…” André led them back through the restaurant’s kitchen and out the back door. The warehouse was only a few steps away.
Inside, Niall looked around. “It’s just open space. Lots of it. What are you planning?”
“Remember how we talked about a community center one night?”
Madoc nodded. Their brainstorming sessions had ranged far and wide. “You going to run with it?”
“Aye.” André crossed his arms over his chest. “If we divide up the space, this could be a place to work on their crafts, teach new skills, and come together during the long winters. We might even manage a basketball court or gym in the back to keep bored younger shifters out of trouble.”
“I like it.” Madoc grinned. “The people dining in my restaurant will end up in your gift store or the community center. The ones who come in here to do their knitting will be smelling food until they’re enticed into the restaurant. Very sneaky, cat.”
“I try.” André nodded his satisfaction. “If we all win, the clan thrives.”
Heather could hear them talking. Madoc’s rumbling bass, Niall’s smooth baritone, and André’s resonant, accented tones. They were planning their futures around the good of the territory.
The three brothers worked together so well.
A homesick ache ran through her. Mama was gone. She hadn’t seen Daniel or Tanner in a while. As cublings, she and her littermates had played together all day long. But these days, her brothers were immersed in their ranch.
Like almost all Daonain females, at coming of age, she’d moved into her own place—the cabin left to her by her grandmother.
At the time, it’d felt wonderful to get away from Daniel and Tanner. Shifter brothers tended to be overprotective of their sisters and would growl if their sister brought one or more males home.
Of course, the same happened in reverse. Since females were territorial of the den, brothers bringing home a female didn’t go over well.
Heather loved her cabin, really, but it sure got lonely sometimes.
The business she’d owned had kept her busy though. Busy enough she hadn’t realized how much more satisfying it was to work with other shifters. Here, she didn’t have to watch her words or actions about a life hidden from humans.
The past few days here had been eye-opening. Being part of the town and the clan. Knowing her work made the clan stronger. And then, to be able to help Madoc with his restaurant opening…it made her day.
And face it, when Niall kissed her, she’d had a wayward notion it would be so, so nice to be with him. And André. Yes, all three.
When Madoc’s big bass laugh boomed through the open door to the warehouse, she grinned.
The Crichton brothers were certainly different from each other. André with his incisive intelligence and well-reasoned but compassionate decisions. He was like her in wanting to fix problems.
Niall was like her, too, in his love for organization and technology. Yet Herne had seen his protective instincts and called him to be a cahir.
Madoc was intriguing. He was more reserved with her than she would have expected from the sociable male. And only with his brothers did he seem to fully relax. But…he seemed such an easygoing bear. How could he handle his cougar brothers?
She liked all three of them.
She grinned. After Pete’s fiscal irresponsibility, gossip circulated about their buying a big house…and where the money for it came from. She’d enjoyed dropping the information that the brothers were quite well off and didn’t need the clan’s money. It was just one way she could ease their path.
Next week, they would move to their new home. By then, she’d have all the clan business tidied up and would pack up all these boxes for André’s office there. She’d miss working with him.
Ah well, such was life. She’d soon be immersed in getting Madoc’s restaurant opened. Wasn’t it interesting he’d planned to have different menus each day? Like a pizza day.
Her stomach growled. Great. Like Niall, now she had a craving for pizza.
As the male walked into the kitchen from the warehouse, she heard Madoc’s deep laugh and then a singsong, “Ooo, cahir.”
Niall growled. “Don’t start.”
“Oooooo, I hear Egypt is calling for their missing river, the Ni—”
A loud thump ended Madoc’s warbling.
At the hearty sound of masculine laughter, Heather grinned and shook her head. The big bear could obviously hold his own.