Page 65 of Bear Facts

“Tiger would make short work of your guards, lass, and there’s no need for that.”

Althea believed him. “Did you come to hire me?” she asked. “Or to work for me?”

She managed to put a hint of amusement in her voice, while inwardly, she was wary. If these Shifters decided to attack her, kidnap her, or kill her, she could do little about it. Even the small pistol she kept in her purse wouldn’t help against three of them. She had the feeling it wouldn’t make a dent in the one called Tiger.

At the same time that she calculated her chances for survival, she made mental notes about how to prevent Shifters circumventing her security again. A few people would have to be demoted.

“Neither.” Dylan laid his hands flat on her desk and regarded her without tension. “I came to find out why you’re so keen on making Shifters go feral. And to stop you, lass. I can’t be having that.”

Chapter Nineteen

Althea’s legs weakened from both relief and fear, wanting to bend as much as she commanded them not to.

A chair bumped the backs of her knees, and a warm voice very like Dylan’s said in her ear, “Sit down, love. You look all in.”

Sean Morrissey was next to her—she’d never heard him move—one hand on her shoulder, the other on the chair he’d drawn to her.

Instead of arrogantly protesting she was fine, Althea sank into the seat. Sean released her from his grip, its absence making her suddenly cold.

The one called Tiger remained still, a massive statue in a San Antonio Spurs sweatshirt. Tiger didn’t look like a Shifter who was a big basketball fan—he’d most likely worn the shirt because someone had handed it to him.

Tiger watched her with golden eyes that unnerved her more than any Shifter’s gaze ever had. This one had walked through fire, Althea sensed, had seen and survived things most Shifters had not.

In spite of Tiger’s obvious size and strength, Althea clocked Dylan as the most dangerous person in the room. The other two were formidable in their own right, but they answered to him.

She removed her purse strap from her shoulder with careful deliberation and set the bag squarely on her lap. She met Dylan’s gaze, as difficult as that was, and decided to give him the bare truth.

“I have no interest in making Shifters go feral.” Althea was pleased her voice was crisp and businesslike. “I am trying to discover who is making them feral and how I can stop them.”

Several heartbeats of silence went by. She realized she’d surprised them.

Shifters were masters of hiding their emotions, but these three hadn’t been expecting her reply. Dylan inhaled softly—testing her scent, she believed. Shifters could smell a lie.

Dylan gestured to whatever he’d pulled up on her screen. “It looks to me like you’ve found all kinds of methods that can be tried. Drugs, electric shocks, reprogramming Collars. Torture.”

His voice chilled as he ran through the list. Althea understood that Dylan was on the edge of fury, and nothing good could come of his anger.

“I know.” She crossed her slim legs, a sign to her listeners that she was comfortable, yet closing them off at the same time. “The information is out there for anyone who looks hard enough. Someone else has found it, and someone is creating feral Shifters. A rival of mine, very likely. When I tightened up my father’s company, some of those I let go decided to set up their own private armies, and they try to get in my way on occasion—ruthlessly. I’ve already lost very good soldiers in conflict.” She decided not to say exactly where the fight had taken place. It had been a disaster, and her men had barely made it out.

“You don’t know who directed that conflict?” Dylan asked.

“No. Which annoys me.” Althea had been angry, upset, and grieved by the loss of her men. She knew her soldiers individually—who they were and who they had been before they’d come to her. None of those who’d made it home had blamed her for the loss, but she blamed herself. She should have been more prepared.

“Hmm.” Dylan’s gaze flicked back to the screen. “Could be, we could help you find out.”

He made it sound like an offer, but Althea heard it as a command. “What are you suggesting?” she asked.

“Share with me everything you know about these ferals and who their creators might be. Dossiers on these rivals, every speculation, every fact.” Dylan’s eyes went a lighter shade of blue. “I and my trackers will narrow down the possibilities and find the culprit.”

“And then what?” Althea pretended the question was casual, mere curiosity.

“Then we deal with them.”

The answer was flat and final. Althea suppressed a shiver.

“I don’t think Shifter Bureau will let you deal with them,” she pointed out.

“Shifter Bureau doesn’t have to know.”

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