The circumstances might not be ideal, but Clarice felt like she belonged somewhere, and she looked up to find Bruno smiling warmly at her.
43
BRUNO
Bruno had feared it would be awkward being under house arrest with Clarice. He braced for hostility from shifters who associated her with the mistrusted Veronica Chase, and if Gil by himself was a lot, five of Gil’s classmates and two babies must be completely overwhelming to someone with no children.
But she managed the kids like they were tiny, interesting people, listening patiently to their prattle and treating them kindly, and the other adults responded to her quiet, humble nature.
After the snack, she cleaned up with Addison and ended up taking Zach in her arms and cooing over him. “He’s so little! Look at those tiny little fingers! How are you so cute? How old is he?”
“He’s three months,” Addison said. She and Bruno exchanged a glance. It was an extra layer of complication on their close quarters that Bruno was a therapist to several of them. Addison had been kidnapped while in labor, and he knew that she was still wrestling with her helplessness and vulnerability. Having this incident on the relative heelsof that could not be helping her mental state. Bruno briefly considered setting up his bedroom as an office and offering sessions before chuckling off the idea. Addison was tough as nails, tackled their sessions with determined fervor, and he had no doubts about her ability to handle anything that life threw at her.
Even a conspiracy of evil organizations and dangerous exes bent on capturing her children.
It wasn’t Addison that Bruno found himself watching, it was Clarice, and the way she was both strong and gentle with Zach, and how she made silly faces at him without shame. Clarice wasn’t a shifter, and she hadn’t asked to be involved in any of this, but she’d been fearless and unflinching in the face of all of it. She was the perfect mix of brave, sweet, and clever, a combination that Bruno would never have guessed was so intoxicating.
“Pluckier than she looks,” Roderick observed quietly at his shoulder. If he had a problem with Clarice holding his newborn, he didn’t show it.
It helped, Bruno thought, to have a common enemy. “She’ssomething.”
“Is she your mate?”
Bruno paused to analyze his reaction. A flush. A tingle at the back of his neck. A yearning. “I never really believed in mates,” he said quietly. “I always figured it was a scientific combination of physical need and emotional connection.”
“That didn’t really answer the question,” Roderick observed, but he didn’t push the issue, going instead to convince Gabby to play more gently instead of hitting Lucy with a toy.
Was she his mate? Bruno longed for her to be, and nothing saidno. His armadillo trusted her entirely, and instinct insisted that he would be happier with her thanwithout. Logic reminded him that she had proven loyal and brave. She had a moral compass that agreed with Bruno’s. And she washot. He loved her shy librarian facade and her sexy legs and her sexy arms, and the way she tried not to make noises when they made love.
He had to shift uncomfortably as his body inappropriately suggested getting her to make those noises again and his armadillo chortled.
There was a crash from the romp room and Bruno heard Gil’s shrill voice. “I’M OKAY.”
Bruno sighed and went to investigate, meeting Clarice as she came out of the bathroom.
Lucy was in the hallway, steaming rather literally and just inside the door, Amy was muttering and smashing toys together. Both of them were studiously ignoring Gil, who was trying to get their attention by climbing on the back of the couch. “Gil, you aren’t supposed to be climbing up on things.”
“It’s NOT THINGS. It’s COUCHES.”
Then Tara appeared at Bruno’s side and looked up at him with big, worried eyes. “Someone is coming,” she said anxiously. She had been tearful and withdrawn all day, sure that Franzi and Jennifer were having a lot of fun without her.
“Your mom is in the romp room,” Bruno said. “See?”
“Not mama,” Tara protested. “Monsters.”
Had someone been scaring her with stories? “There are no monsters, honey,” Bruno assured her.
Tara gave him a flat look of scorn. “Peoplecan be monsters.”
Bruno winced. She wasn’twrong,he just wished he could protect her from that truth.
As he opened his mouth to tell her something comforting, he heard several vehicles pull up in front of the house.Before he could even hope that it was Juliette and the team returning early, his instinct gave a twang of unmistakable warning.
“Everyone into the romp room,” he said firmly, herding Tara and Lucy back into the room. “Clarice, you too!” He did a head count: Addison and Roderick were at the front of the house. Baby Zach was napping in a crib in the playroom with Gil and most of the other kids. Cherry was already there, standing in alarm at his hurried entrance. Vivian was wearing Shane and trying to get the fractious kids playing a game. Darius was—who knew where he was. He was thirteen and thoroughly sick of being clung to by children while he was busy trying not to admit he was worried about his mom. Wendy was probably in the kitchen.
There were shouts and the unmistakable sound of the front door being smashed in. These were professionals; there was no attempt to fool instinct with a fake food delivery or friendly visit.
Bruno had a glimpse down the hall of a black armored figure with a gun. He had a moment to see a feathered dart hit the doorframe where he’d been standing before he slammed the door shut. The door didn’t have a lock, and he wasn’t sure how much good it would do if it did.
