Page 29 of Bound to the Griffin (Hillcrest Hollow Shifters #3)

Jackson

The crisp morning air preceding a storm still clung to me when I landed in Gwen’s backyard, my talons sinking into frosted grass before bone and muscle pulled tight, feathers burning away into skin.

The shift always left a faint ache in my shoulders, like I’d been carrying too much weight for too long.

Maybe I had, or maybe this was about what still remained unresolved.

The woods were quiet behind me, too quiet.

The goon we’d caught vandalizing Gwen’s B pawns were replaceable.

It was the hand that moved the piece across the board that mattered, and I still hadn’t caught even a shadow of it.

Meanwhile, Gwen was still in the crosshairs, and it had gone on so long now that it was making me uneasy.

We couldn’t start our lives—complete the mating bond—until this was done and over with.

I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly and forcing the frustration down where it wouldn’t show.

She’d been safer sleeping at my cabin, away from whatever foul thing kept seeping into her dreams, but the land behind this house made my feathers itch every time I came near it.

There was something old here. Wrong. If Thorne would just stop smirking and spill what he knew, maybe I could pin it down before it pinned her.

A sound broke the snow-blanketed silence.

My head snapped up, ears twitching to catch more of it.

They were voices, low and sharp, drifting to me from the other side of the B I was certain Gwen was in trouble and needed help.

But that feeling had already morphed, shifted, then faded before I reached the corner.

Halting there, I peeked around the side, eagle-sharp eyes catching movement by the door.

Oh. Not a threat, at least, not in that way.

The sight of him—tall, polished, all expensive coat and smugness—made my jaw lock tight.

Evan. I knew him immediately, even though she’d never described him to me.

I’d heard just enough from Gwen these last few days to want to break his nose clean off his face.

The bastard who cheated on her with her so-called best friend, now standing on her porch like he had a right to breathe her air.

My instincts screamed to go in there, drag him out by his collar, and remind him exactly who he was dealing with.

Then Gwen’s voice carried through the frozen air, steady, calm, with that stubborn confidence that made half this damn town underestimate her.

She wasn’t cowed. She didn’t need me barging in.

Besides, she wasn’t alone, even without my help.

Luther and Kai were across the street, watching.

Ted’s voice drifted faintly from inside the house.

She already had backup, because that’s how this town treated their own.

Didn’t mean I couldn’t get my own piece in.

As soon as they went inside and closed the door, I strode to Evan’s car, a sleek black rental that screamed money, like the man had something to prove.

I set the wheel clamp with the kind of practiced ease that would have made my military instructors proud.

Petty? Maybe. Satisfying? Absolutely. It didn’t take long for the rat to notice.

Soon enough, he was in the street with me, his voice rising, threats spilling out like cheap wine.

I met it all with the same calm I wore behind the badge.

“Parking’s illegal on this side,” I told him, tone even.

“Fines stack quick.” I held out my notebook as if I were writing a fine on the spot, not that I even recalled where the appropriate traffic citation forms were.

I never issued any; I didn’t need to in a town this size.

The red flush creeping up his neck was worth the headache.

Then, like a sour note cutting through an already bad tune, Kiran showed up.

Pinstriped, smooth as ever, eyes holding secrets I didn’t like.

The weretiger had carved himself a place here last fall, but that didn’t mean anyone trusted him.

Least of all me. None of us understood why he was sticking around or what he was after; we just knew we didn’t trust him.

After all, he’d worked for the bad guys once, who was to say he wasn’t still?

The fact that Evan seemed to know him also didn’t work in his favor.

The two bent their heads close, whispering like conspirators, and my gut twisted.

This couldn’t mean anything good; I had to watch both of them like a hawk.

My eyes flicked to the darkening clouds overhead, gathering and swirling, ready to dump even more snow on us with great force.

When Evan returned from his little heart-to-heart with the weretiger, his smug smile was back in place.

He shoved a wad of cash into my hand, crisp bills whispering together.

“That should cover your fines. Now take the damn clamp off.” I let the bills hang there a beat before pocketing them, slow, deliberate.

Then I crouched, removed the clamp, and stood, brushing off my hands.

“You still can’t leave tonight.” My voice was steady, not unkind, but sharp enough to cut through his arrogance.

“Storm’s rolling in. Road’ll swallow you whole if you try.

Best hope you find a roof to hole up under; otherwise, you’ll freeze out there.

” I didn’t bother to add what I was really thinking: if the storm didn’t get him, I just might.

He stared, then laughed, as if he thought my remark was funny.

A joke played on him to trick the city slicker out of more money, perhaps.

But in this, Kiran seemed to agree. He reached a hand past the cheater’s head and pointed to the roiling clouds in the sky.

“That, sir, is advice I suggest you heed. Those clouds are not a trick. Even our mighty sheriff does not have that kind of power.” No, I did not, and if I had, I wouldn’t be using it to trap this guy in town.

The last thing I wanted was for him to stick around.

I didn’t stay to hear what else the two said to each other, but turned to the B Gwen was handling him, with clear satisfaction and a hint of pride.

Good. She deserved to look him in the eye and put him in his place. To face him and know that he no longer held the power to hurt her. That, and to know that she’d found her place in the world, right here in this town of outcasts. Right here, with me.

We left Evan to his own devices, struggling to figure out how to do the simple task of making his own bed.

Hand in hand, we went down the stairs, and once we reached the kitchen, I could no longer resist. I drew her into my arms and kissed her, whispering to her that I was proud, that she’d done so well, how beautiful she was—all the things I knew she should be told every day of her life.

Things I was certain that idiot had never discovered, never said to her, and now he never would.

I hoped fervently that one day he would discover what a huge mistake he’d made, and then he’d know he was too late, she was already mine.