Page 12 of Bound to the Minotaur (Hillcrest Hollow Shifters #2)

I halted, my body twisting to partially hide behind the thick trunk of an ancient oak. My eyes sharpened as they angled back toward my home, where the merry twinkle of lights came from the front windows. Was that a shadow? My guest, scurrying away before she was caught? Had she seen me?

When there was no further movement, I forced myself to start walking, then running—harder, faster—my body exulting in freedom even as my thoughts stayed tangled in Kess.

Imagining the smell of peaches on her lips, hearing the low, defiant fire in her voice, relishing the prospect of trapping her, chasing her.

She still didn’t know that she’d walked straight into the heart of the labyrinth—and I was the beast that would never let her go.

I hit the outskirts of Hillcrest Hollow just after my lungs settled into the rhythm of a good run, my hooves eating up the distance like the forest meant to carry me all the way to the sea.

But this was far enough. I slowed, stepped behind the wide trunk of a birch, and let the shift take me back—skin and bone knitting into human again with a crackle of air and heat, with the flash of light that morphed one essence into another in the blink of an eye.

My breath steamed as I tugged my coat closed, my feet already numbing against the frosted grass despite the snug fit of my boots.

I was lucky I had mastered my shift to the point of taking my clothes with me; others were not so lucky, like Kai and his mate.

I grinned wryly as I surveyed the town. It slept around me like a cat curled against the cold, with only the faintest signs of life still flickering in windows and on porches.

I took in the layout, every familiar flicker of light, every scent on the wind.

Luther was still up, which was no surprise.

Light shone in his upstairs loft above the general store.

He was probably drinking that expensive blood blend he liked to save for long nights.

Ted’s shop still hummed with life, too, his silhouette moving past the fogged windows as he worked late on some ancient washer or other machine in desperate need of a loving hand.

Both good men. I’d talk to them soon. But tonight, I needed the quickest route to word spreading.

That meant Grandma Liz, the mayor of the town and the alpha of the local werewolf pack.

I passed Halvers’ B we didn’t know.

I snorted. “Let me guess. He told Halvers he was just ‘passing through.’” My tone made it obvious I didn’t believe that, not for a minute.

This was probably why Grandma Liz, our resident nymph, and her guardian were having a meeting, and another big, fat worry to pack onto my already heavy shoulders. This wasn’t good.

Chardum chuckled, smoke rising from his nostrils. “A predator doesn’t pass through. He circles.” The way the dragon said it made it clear he spoke from experience. The biggest predator of all, he knew exactly how to lie in wait and strike at the best moment.

I nodded, then lifted my chin toward them both.

“That’s not what brought me.” My gut churned with the pull Kess had on me.

Her need for protection was so heavy and large that it felt like it would swallow me.

It felt like a time bomb, ready to go off at any moment.

Her father was on his way here right now—I knew it—and when he got here, he would try to kill her and me. I wouldn’t let him succeed.

Rosy tilted her head. “Then what did?” Her green eyes glowed like emeralds, like newly unfurling ferns in spring, and like the haze of fresh grass. She tilted her head at me, a smile flirting with her mouth, and I knew she was remembering Kess and me in the diner that morning.

“My soulmate,” I said, the word thick in my throat but solid, like stone.

It felt good to finally admit that out loud.

It was the first step toward keeping her, toward changing.

Now I had to convince her she wanted to stay; with a minotaur, to boot.

“I found her. But her father—Romano, from New York—tried to kill her.”

Rosy stiffened. Chardum lifted his head, neck rising slowly, a ripple of golden muscle catching the moonlight.

“Romano?” Rosy repeated, brows knitting.

“The Romano?” I had forgotten that she’d come from New York, too.

That she’d been born and raised there, never knowing about her heritage until her father died and left his estate to her.

“Yeah.” I let out a breath that fogged in the cold.

“Head of the Romano family. Kess—she’s his daughter.

She’s running from him; her whole life is in her car.

He cut her brakes, tried to kill her—the bastard—and he’s coming.

Maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow, but he’s coming. And we need to be ready.”

A new voice joined us from the treeline, sharp and slick as shadow. “Well, damn,” Luther said, stepping out from beneath the pines as if he’d grown there. He wore black, as always, and the moon caught on his sharp eyes and amused face. “Really got yourself a mess, didn’t you, Minotaur?”

I turned toward him, lips twitching. “You could say that.” I was glad to see the vampire here, that saved me another trip, while my mate sat alone in my home with only Avis as her guard.

Though Avis would warn me in a heartbeat if there was danger, he was as attuned to that kind of thing as I was.

Luther was a good male to have on my side, and probably one of the more social inhabitants of the town.

He strolled forward, glancing toward Chardum and Rosy with a nod before dipping into a polite bow for the mayor.

Grandma Liz took that as her due, her eyes steely as she shared a look of understanding with him.

Then all eyes were back on me. “Romano’s bad news.

But I’ve dealt with worse,” Luther added with a smirk.

I raised an eyebrow. “You volunteering?” A vampire on the loose against a horde of mobsters with guns, probably not a fair match.

I’d almost feel pity for Kess’s father, if not for the fact that he’d tried to kill his daughter.

I was very glad that she’d ended up taking a detour past my town and into my territory.

“I didn’t say that,” Luther said dryly. “But I’ll help—especially if it keeps you from stomping holes through the middle of town with those hooves of yours.

” He gestured with his hand in an elegant manner at my workboots, as if I were already shifted into my beastly form.

Some vampires tended to be elitists, disliking any other supernatural creature.

While Luther had never appeared to follow that line of thinking, he did seem to take great pleasure in pointing out my more beastly traits, offset against his cultured elegance.

It was a good thing I didn’t give a shit about that sort of thing.

Chardum snorted smoke at the taunt, which made Rosy grin, and Grandma Liz cautioned Luther to follow the rules.

I just shook my head, the knot in my chest easing a fraction.

They’d help. We’d handle it. But I still had a beautiful woman at home—afraid for her life, and aching in ways that had nothing to do with fear. I needed to get back to her.