Page 286 of Primal Bonds

“Good.” He nipped her earlobe and then faded back into the shadows, watching as she zipped her jacket with fingers that felt thick, awkward.

He waited until she’d picked up her gloves before turning toward the wall. She watched as he leapt ten feet straight up, catching onto a gutter and swinging himself back onto the roof.

The man was a freaking human cat. Literally.

He remained on the roof, watching over her as she walked the half block to her sportbike.

She touched her tingling lips. The man sure knew how to use that sexy mouth.

She turned and walked backward. “Tomorrow,” she mouthed and blew him a kiss.

Adric’s eyes flashed an electric blue. His growl was soft, but she heard it. A thrill shivered over her skin.

She grinned and turned back around. She was halfway up I-95 before her body stopped humming.

Back in Grace Harbor, she parked the sleek purple bike in the clan garage and wiped the rain off the body. She didn’t own the sportbike—the clan shared most vehicles—but she used it enough that she thought of it as hers.

That done, she tossed the rag into the bin provided for that purpose and headed into the passage that tunneled under Rock Run Creek to the base on the other side. The caverns were quiet, most of the clan in bed. An aqua-blue fae light wafted over to light her way through the labyrinthine tunnels.

She nodded at the few people she met without adding the usual hug. Since coming into her Gift as a Seer, she’d learned to avoid casual touches so as not to set off the Sight. People thought it odd, but fortunately, she’d always followed her own quirky drum. The clan expected her to be different.

Only her family—and now Adric—knew about her Gift, and she intended to keep it that way. She’d heard the stories of her Irish Seer mother. People might have liked Ula Gallagan, but they’d been wary of her, too. Everyone said they’d like to know the future, but when it came right down to it, no one wanted to be told their own death was barreling down at them like a great white shark, cold-eyed and relentless.

She turned a corner and stopped dead. She’d touched Adric without setting off her Sight. That was odd, especially after what had happened in December.

But not unexpected. One thing she’d learned was the Sight was erratic. It came and went at its own whim.

She continued walking until she reached the quarters she shared with Isa, her childhood nurse. Something else that had to change. She was too old to be living with her nurse, much as she loved the older woman. Everyone else her age had moved to the unmated warriors’ quarters.

Easing open the door, she slipped off her boots and padded into the small sala.

“Boa noite,” said a deep voice from the direction of Dion and Cleia’s apartment.

Her alpha brother loomed in the doorway connecting their apartments, big hands gripping the doorjamb above him, his black hair loose around his shoulders, his only clothing a pair of cut-off sweats that bagged around his muscular thighs. Even fresh out of the bed, the man looked authoritative, in control.

She stifled a sigh as she set down the boots and stripped off her jacket and gloves. Yep, she definitely had to get her own place.

Dion was over one hundred turns of the sun, more like her dad than a brother. And like her papai, he’d been born and raised in Portugal with an old-world way of looking at things. He also had that whole alpha-protective-thing going on. He just didn’t understand that at twenty-two, his little chick was ready to spread her wings and fly. And if she fell, well, that would be on her, not him.

“Olá, Dion. Sorry if I woke you up.” She spoke in Portuguese, the language the clan used at home. She dropped onto the couch to take off her socks.

Dion sat next to her. “You didn’t wake me. The little one was fussing.”

“Brisa?” Rosana stopped in the act of removing a sock. Fada didn’t often get sick, even the children. Their touch of fae blood fought off human viruses. “She okay?”

Brisa was the one thing Rosana and Dion agreed on. The tiny girl had them both wrapped around her plump little finger.

“She’s fine. Just teething. Cleia gave her a shot of healing energy, and she went right back to sleep.”

“Bom. I hate it when she’s hurting.”

Rosana pulled the sock the rest of the way off and wriggled her toes. Deus, she detested shoes, but even a shifter couldn’t walk barefoot around Baltimore.

“Me, too.” He exhaled. “I feel so fucking powerless.”

She blinked. Her big brother had admitted there was something he couldn’t fix? The man had balls of steel. Hell, he’d kidnapped the sun fae queen—one of the most powerful fae in the world—and not only had he survived, he’d mated the woman.

“She’ll be fine.” She awkwardly patted his leg over the cut-offs, careful not to touch his bare skin. “Kids have to go through these things, you know.”

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