Exposed: A British Bad Boy Romance (17 page)

Chapter 2

SLOAN

H
e watched her leave the coffee shop with a mixture of amusement and disappointment. A slight smiled still curved his lips as she darted out like she had someone hot on her heels.

              Any other day, she might. Any other day, Sloan would listen to the insistent roar of his tiger that told him to chase her. Claim her. Make her scream his name until she was hoarse and incoherent.

              But today wasn’t any other day. The beast inside of him chuffed in annoyance but Sloan pushed it aside. Not today, buddy, sorry. The Elder, the leader of the Tigris clan to which all tiger shifters in Palm Haven and the surrounding area belonged, wanted a word with him.

              A word. The thought alone made Sloan uneasy. Not an easy feat — he prided himself on being unflappable in most situations, but when the Elder tiger called you in for a word… all pretenses dropped and you became that sniveling third grader called into the Principal’s office for tugging on Mary-Ellen Cross’s pigtails.

              He couldn’t help but watch the bleary-eyed humans, mulling around waiting for their orders, with envy. They had no idea what was coming. The destructive force that would tear apart their pretty little lives. They knew nothing of shifters, the territorial disputes between them, or the Cold War amongst the three clans that was dangerously close to boiling over.

              Is that what the Elder wanted to talk about? Clarence Cunningham wasn’t the type of man to mince words. He’d lived through both World Wars and — if rumors were true — the Industrial Revolution. Shifters were a long-lived bunch in general, but even Sloan couldn’t comprehend the tenacity it must have taken for the man to stay in hiding since before the advent of electricity.

              “Quad shot for… Sexy?” the pimple-faced barista rolled his eyes and called across the room, clearly looking for a patron of the feminine persuasion. He was about to be sorely disappointed.

              Sloan’s earlier flirtation with the register girl seemed distant and foolish now. When she’d asked for a name for the order he’d simply said ‘Call me whatever you’re going to scream out later’.

              His tiger delighted in the flush of warmth that colored the 20-something’s cheeks, but now… He pictured the other woman. He’d probably never see her again — hell, depending on how his meeting with the Elder went, he might not see anyone ever again. He couldn’t get too worked up over a missed opportunity with the tardy bibliophile in the pencil skirt.

              Sloan snatched the cup from the crestfallen teenager and tried to steel himself for the coming day. He wasn’t sure he’d ordered enough espresso for this meeting, but there was no turning back now.

Chapter 3

SARAH

“H
ello, yes. My name is Sarah, I’m with the Kerris Memorial Library…”

              “Yes, sir, we appreciate your generous donation, what I’m actually calling about today is a community even—”

              Sarah dropped the receiver and her forehead hit the desk.

              “Another hang-up?” Janine asked, concern written all over her kind features.

              Sarah sighed and nodded.

              “Why is it so hard to get people interested in literacy?”

              Janine shrugged and poured them each another — Sarah’s third and her fourth — cup of coffee.

              “Hard to say. Maybe they’re just jerks.”

              Sarah had to smile at that, “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I guess I should be grateful that they’re on the donor list at all… I suppose they think they’ve done their part already.”

              Janine rolled her eyes, “By donating…” she glanced at the list in front of Sarah, “fifty dollars a year? Big whoop.”

              “It’s better than nothing,” Sarah said, forcing a hint of optimism that she didn’t feel into her voice. She’d been at this for months. Trying to find sponsors for the Annual Community Literacy Event, calling, being hung up on, cursed out, called greedy — one of the nicer names she’d been called, actually — and generally dismissed.

              Every year it was the same song and dance. Every year it became harder and harder to get people involved and excited about reading. Without events like this to bring in donations, the Kerris wouldn’t survive for long. Already, they were the only library left in Palm Haven. Sarah couldn’t bear the thought of living somewhere that
didn’t
have a library. She shuddered and found the next number on the list.

              The phone rang twice before the line went dead. Sarah whirled around in her chair, preparing to affix Janine with a stern look, but found Jerry with his chubby finger on the hook, an apologetic frown etched into his ancient face.

              “What’s up, Jer?” she asked, trying to hide her annoyance. For all intents and purposes, Jerry was her boss — the library’s director. Nevermind that she did at least eighty-percent of his duties for him. She couldn’t — and wouldn’t — give him attitude about cutting her call short.

              He sighed.

              Oh no. That sigh was never a good thing. Jerry was like their kindly old uncle. Always with hard candies of indeterminate age in his pockets, always a friendly word on his way into the office for an afternoon nap — or as he liked to call them ‘meditative hours’. For Jerry to look so concerned, so guilty…

              Sarah’s stomach dropped. What was it this time? More lay-offs? She and Janine were the only employees left. Was the Kerris closing all-together?

              That thought alone was enough to make Sarah nearly cry. Kerris had been her home away from home since she was a little girl. If she were really honest with herself, Kerris was more of a home than home had ever been. Fantastical stories of magical places and people helped her cope with the uncertainty of her own blossoming powers.

              Her mother had tried to help her hone and control her unruly powers. She’d bought Sarah her very first charm — the all-seeing eye — to focus and tame the roaring current of magic that flowed through her veins, but nothing had ever worked. Her magic was wild… and a major pain in the ass.

              Jerry ran a weathered hand over his rotund face, “I’m sorry, Sarah, the event’s not going to happen this year. There aren’t enough sponsors and there wasn’t enough turn-out last year to make room for it in the budget—”

              “That’s some bullshit,” Janine said, jumping to her defense. “Sarah’s been working on this night and day for half a year and you’re going to put the kibosh on it less than two weeks out?”

              “I know it’s not
ideal
,” Jerry tried to defend himself. He fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, unable to look at either woman.

              Sarah sighed. She was thankful that Janine went to bat for her, but she couldn’t muster up the energy to fight on her own behalf. The event was her baby, but Jerry wasn’t to blame for the bad economy or lack of interest. If she’d made more calls… worked a little bit harder… Maybe if she’d dedicated a little more time to it…

              A heavy hand dropped on her shoulder as Jerry patted her absently, “I really am sorry,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

It wouldn’t take a particularly astute person to see that the job had taken its toll on Jerry. Puffy dark bags tugged at his eyes, giving his expression a droopy effect. A look of perpetual anxiety was permanently etched into his forehead and Sarah wondered how many times he’d delivered the bad news to an employee throughout his decades at the library. Was it selfish of her to keep fighting tooth and nail for the Kerris to stay open?

Janine still sputtered protests about the injustice of the whole thing. Sarah calmly tapped the donor list on the desktop to straighten the stack of papers before slipping the whole thing away in a nearby file cabinet.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said, her voice hollow and distant even to her own ears. Inside, magic crackled to life, fueled by the emotional torrent she shoved deep down.

Her co-workers weren’t sure how to respond; Jerry backed away slowly, as if he thought it were a trick and she’d strike like a cobra the moment he turned his back. Janine was pure anger. The moment Jerry was back in the safety of the office, she turned on Sarah.

“What the hell was that? You gotta stand up for yourself!”

Sarah rested her elbows on the desk and cradled her chin in her hands, “What’s the point?” she groaned. “It’s not his fault no one cares. Look around,” she waved her arms to the habitually empty library, “we’re not needed anymore. The three of us do four times the work for half of the outcome. When’s enough enough?”

The charms on her wrist clattered against the desk as she collapsed forward in defeat. Maybe it was time to move on. Time to forget silly childhood dreams and let go of her security blanket.

Janine’s arms enveloped her in a warm hug that smelled like Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamond perfume. Sarah let herself be comforted for a moment. It wasn’t like her mom never hugged her, but it was different. Janine was an honest to goodness friend.

Just as she felt her body relaxing into the embrace, content to wallow in her defeat, Janine released her and turned her chair so they were face-to-face.

“I know it sucks to do a thankless job, but you are needed around here. Me an’ Jer? Not so much. But Kerris needs someone like you to love it and watch out for it. Now, the Sarah I know wouldn’t give up that easily. The Sarah I know would never abandon this place.”

Sarah sighed and fiddled with her bracelet, unable to meet Janine’s gaze. She was right. Of course she was right. But would she admit that out loud?

Her fingers closed around the sterling book charm, a gift from her favorite professor when she’d graduated library school. Ever since she was a little girl, this was what she wanted to do. Be a librarian. Work in the Kerris. She couldn’t turn her back on it just because some plans fell through. She’d figure something out. One way or another, she’d make other people care about this place as much as she did.

Chapter 4

SLOAN

S
loan arrived at the Elder’s home right on time for their meeting. In one final gulp he finished his coffee and crumpled the ‘sexy’ cup, tossing it in the floorboard of his beamer — it was already in need of a detailing.

              Cleaning his car out was the last thing on his mind as he walked to the front door of the plantation-style home. From the outside, it didn’t look like anything particularly special. Large columns and wrap-around porches made the home look stately, but not ostentatious. He briefly wondered if the Elder had been the original owner of the home.

              Before his finger touched the doorbell, the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. A pretty young blonde greeted him with a broad smile. She barely looked old enough to be out of high school, let alone old enough for the giant rock sparkling on her left hand.

              “Sloan?”

              He nodded.

              “My father is expecting you,” she said with a gesture, welcoming him into the impeccably decorated home. There was a lot of very
old
money in the Tigris clan. Much of that, due to Clarence Cunningham himself.

Her father?

“Rianne?” he paused, trying to match the leaf green eyes and playful cant of her head with his memories of a little girl. It had been a very long time since he’d been around the rest of the clan. “You’ve certainly grown up. The last time I saw you, you were still dragging around that stuffed animal… what was it? A deer?”

She laughed, her cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink, “An antelope. I learned to hunt pretty young.” She stopped and knocked lightly on a solid Oak door.

Sloan suddenly remembered his nerves. Rianne put his fears at ease for a moment, but now, faced again with the uncertainty of meeting with the Elder, his throat tightened.

“Do you know what this is about?” his voice sounded strained and Rianne patted him on the forearm.

“Don’t worry. Daddy’s not as scary as everyone thinks.”

Easy for her to say. She hadn’t walked out on his training years ago. She hadn’t turned her back on the entire clan. Of course she had nothing to be afraid of.

It wasn’t every day that the Elder called out of the blue for a ‘word’. Especially not when Sloan hadn’t been involved in clan affairs for at least a decade. What use could he be now?

“Enter,” a gruff voice called from beyond the barrier. Rianne turned the knob and ushered him forward, disappearing the moment the door closed behind him.

Two men sat in high-backed leather chairs, sipping absently on glasses of deep amber liquid. It wasn’t even noon and they were already drinking? He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

Before he had a chance to wonder who the second man was, the Elder spoke.

“Sloan. It’s been a little while.” The older man’s voice was measured. Even. Unreadable.

The last time he’d been in this room, he was being groomed to take-over. Clarence had — and lost — many children over the years. Shifter babies didn’t fare well typically and infant mortality rates were high. Those that lived, were often prone to violence, vulnerable to hunters and poachers and a million other complications. The Elder had wanted someone to take over in his stead.

Until they’d had a disagreement over the treatment of a traitor. Sloan wanted to show mercy. The Elder did not. In a hot-blooded rage, Sloan had called him a despot and disappeared from Palm Haven for good.

Or, at least he thought.

The call he’d received a few days ago was brief: The clan needs you. A word, Tuesday at ten.

Maybe he shouldn’t have answered.

He knew that wasn’t an option. The clan would find him. Refusing the Elder’s call was nearly as bad as betraying their kind and Sloan happened to like his head attached to the rest of his body.

He nodded, gaze flicking to the stranger that regarded him with thinly veiled amusement.

“I was awaiting your call, it appears,” he finally said, resisting the urge to squirm under their scrutiny.

“I’d like you to meet my son-in-law, Randal,” the older man gestured, his lined face a hard stone mask.

The younger man — much younger, Sloan now realized — gave Sloan a self-satisfied sneer with a nod in his direction. Was he the one being groomed now? From his comfortable posture and easy breathing, Sloan didn’t need an answer.

“A pleasure,” Sloan said without offering his hand. Without being instructed to, he took a seat, matching Randal’s hard gaze with a challenge of his own. The Elder said nothing, content to watch his current and former protégé battle it out for dominance.

“What is this all about?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer — he was a cat, after all.

“I’m sure even on the outside, you’ve heard whispers. The wolves are planning something. A grab for territory across Palm Haven,” the old man said, lighting a cigar as he did.

Sloan nodded. He’d heard more than whispers.

“The bears have become more defensive as well. They’ve closed their borders, convinced that another clan is going to attack.”

Sloan didn’t voice his sympathy. With meetings exactly like this one no doubt happening all over town, he couldn’t blame the bears for closing ranks.

“What does any of this have to do with me?”

He didn’t know if it was the Randal’s stupid weaselly face or the way he tapped his foot impatiently while the Elder spoke that made him want to attack him. Sloan’s jaw clenched and he thought he saw Randal grin. Did he enjoy seeing others uncomfortable?

“There has come to our attention the possibility of an intersection of ley lines within our territory. The Coven currently maintains control over the land, but that can be remedied if necessary.”

Sloan narrowed his eyes at each man in turn. He didn’t know much about the Coven or ley lines. The lines held veins of super-concentrated magic, but he didn’t know how witches used that or what use it would be to the tigers.

“I’m still not seeing where I come in,” he spat more forcefully than he intended.

“I don’t know anything about magic. I won’t know if the lines are there or not,” he amended, hoping to spare himself the wrath of the Elder.

Randal spoke this time, “You just leave the thinking to those more capable. We’ll tell you what to do. We have a plan all worked out for you. You just have to show up and look pretty. You can manage that, can’t you?”

Sloan’s hands tightened into fists. This kid had some nerve. Did he know that he was a last resort? That thought made him feel a little better.

“Are you going to reveal any of the details of this plan?” he drolled, losing his patience.

“Of course,” the Elder spoke, easing the tension between the two hot-headed tigers. “Randal, pour our friend a drink, while we discuss the coming months.”

Randal’s expression twisted into an unattractive scowl that he carefully hid from the Elder. Sloan made a mental note to keep an eye on the guy. He could just be an asshole, but he needed to be sure.

With a drink in hand, he relaxed a little. But… did he say months? How long of a commitment did they expect?