Garrett’s metallic silver eyes remained steady on his. The kid had grown up good. “Neither. It’s a sign of trust. We go way back.” His upper lip curved. “Please tell me you asked Sam not to shoot.”
Jordan shrugged. “I might’ve forgotten that.” He didn’t want to be on opposing sides with the Kayrs family. They were allies, and he trusted them, although he didn’t like not knowing the details of the final ritual. “One condition, G.”
To his credit, Garrett didn’t blink. “Name it.”
“When Ulric gets free of this secret prison world the Seven created in another dimension, I want to be your first call.” He held up his hand before Garrett could speak. “And when you know anything about the final ritual, the one you think will kill him, I’m on speed dial. No more secrets if you’re going to mess with my universe.”
Garrett exhaled from his powerful chest. Man, he looked like his father. “It’s a deal.” He held out his hand.
Jordan shook it, finally feeling peace filtering through him.
Even so, his feline ears heard Samantha’s sad sigh from the tree line. She’d really wanted to shoot.
Chapter Eleven
Dessie was back to riding behind Garrett on his motorcycle, the wind in her face and those wild vibrations between her thighs. She held on to his abs beneath his leather jacket, her mind spinning.
Shifters. Real mountain lion shifters existed.
She had so many questions, but the second Garrett had returned from speaking with those shifters, he’d plunked her on the back of his bike and started the engine. They’d exited camp, just the four of them, with Honor once again on the back of Sam’s bike.
When Dessie had tried to question Garrett about the lions, he’d handed back the helmet with a terse snap.
“Later,” he muttered.
She sighed. He was kind of grumpy, truth be told. A while back, maybe ten years, she’d had a history professor who was always cranky.
Yeah, she’d liked him, too. Not in the same way as Garrett, but perhaps she had a penchant for lions with thorns in their paws. She jumped. Was Garrett a mountain lion shifter? No. No way. She’d know that, wouldn’t she?
The wind picked up, and she huddled closer to him, grateful for the Grizzly jacket covering her. Grizzly? Wait a minute. If there were lion shifters, were there bear shifters? Was Garrett a freaking bear shifter?
A light rain began to batter them after several hours of riding. Soon sleet joined the rain, and she shivered, holding him tighter. He signaled, and Sam nodded, both of them heading off the main interstate to a recreation area that was largely abandoned this late in the autumn. A small motel with light blue trim and doors sat just off the road.
She shivered as the rain and sleet pelted her helmet.
Garrett stopped in front of the main office. “Stay here.” Without waiting for her answer, he swung off the bike and walked inside, his massive black boots crunching dead leaves. He returned shortly and tossed a key at Sam, who caught it with one hand. “I chose rooms around back where the trees can provide cover for the bikes. Also, there’s a pizza place three miles away that’ll deliver.”
Honor leaned up and nuzzled Sam’s neck.
Garrett rolled his eyes. “I’ll order a couple, and if you want one, swing by.” He gracefully straddled the motorcycle and started it, quickly driving around the back of the motel to park in front of door eleven. After helping her off, he kept her arm, grabbed their belongings, and escorted her into the room.
She gulped, taking off the helmet. It was one thing to be with him in a sleeping bag, and quite another to be in a motel room. While that made absolutely no sense, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable alone in the tidy space with him.
There was only one bed.
She’d slept in a small bag with him the night before.
Even so, that bed loomed large in the tiny area. She edged toward the polished wooden table with two chairs by the window, while Garrett dumped their belongings on the bed and then ordered three pizzas with soda to be delivered. Then he turned and sat on the bed facing her, crossing his arms.
She gulped and sat on the orange cushion of the nearest chair. “Are you a mountain lion shifter?”
“No.” He cocked his head. “Are you?”
She snorted and then realized he was serious. “No.” She removed her wet jacket and hung it carefully over the back of the chair, acutely aware of his focus. In the small room, he looked oversized and beyond dangerous. “Are there bear shifters?”
“Yes. There are bear, wolf, and feline shifters.” He removed his leather jacket, leaving droplets of water on the floor. “As well as dragon, but the dragons think that’s still a secret.”
Her jaw dropped. “Real dragons. Like they blow fire?”
