Mate Bond Page 44

Bowman continued to sip coffee and let Cristian and Turner talk while he watched. And sniffed, covertly. He still couldn’t figure out the scent layers here.

“And you knew nothing of the large animal in the woods?” Cristian asked. He hadn’t brought it up—Turner had—asking them what all the fuss and distant fire had been about.

“I thought I saw something skulking around, but we get bears back here, so I didn’t investigate. I leave bears alone and hope they leave me alone. Wild bears, that is. I’ve met one or two Shifter bears, but they were not keen to talk to me. Scary fellows, but fascinating.”

Cade would be flattered by the description, Bowman thought.

“We do not yet know what the beast was,” Cristian said. “But it is dead, so it is not likely to, as you say, skulk, any longer.”

“Well, that’s a relief, in a way. But I’m a softy about animals, so I can feel sorry for it. I suppose that’s why I’m so interested in Shifters—an offshoot of my being an animal lover. A girlfriend in college told me I’d decided to study other cultures and how they interact because I was bad at interacting myself.” Turner wheezed a laugh. “She was no doubt right. I’m going to ask you what I’ve been dying to, but I’m trying to be polite. I’d love to interview one or both of you for my book. A chapter straight from the Shifter’s mouth, so to speak, would be just the thing. You’re so long-lived you must have seen amazing changes in human history.”

Cristian gave him an indulgent smile. “No asking our ages, please. It is impolite. I will say that I danced the waltz in Vienna when it was first introduced. I watched Napoleon march across Europe, and Hitler do it again a hundred and more years later. Making many of the same mistakes, I would like to point out. But mostly, Shifters kept to themselves and let humans live their own lives.”

Turner listened, his eyes filled with the same kind of eagerness that fired the women and men who came to the Shifter bars. Turner was just another groupie, Bowman decided. Except he wanted knowledge rather than sex. Well—hopefully he didn’t want sex.

“If I could get some stories from you, it would round out the book,” Turner said. He switched his gaze to Bowman. “Have you read the part I gave you?”

Bowman stilled. He’d caught, as Turner moved his eyes, a flash inside them, of something Bowman couldn’t decipher, an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint. Turner hid it well, and in the next second, it was gone. But the flash made Bowman come entirely alert.

Cristian also had seen it, Bowman could tell, though Cristian was more skilled at hiding his reaction. “My niece has the manuscript,” Cristian said, pulling Turner’s attention away from Bowman. “Kenzie—you met her. She will read and let you know.”

“Good. Excellent. I look forward to it.”

Cristian took this opening to rise to his feet. “Then we will leave you to it. Thank you for the coffee, Dr. Turner.”

“Wayne, please.” Turner stuck out his hand.

Cristian pretended to not quite know what to do with the offered hand, then become delighted that Turner was including him in the human custom. He looked hard into the man’s eyes as he performed the handshake. Trying to read him, Bowman knew, but Turner didn’t seem to notice.

Bowman drained his cup and gave Turner a polite thanks and good-bye, then he and Cristian left the house when Turner opened the door for them.

“I don’t think you sucked up to him enough,” Bowman said once they were well into the woods. “Sure you don’t want to go back and sniff his ass?”

“I was, as you say, buttering him up, not sucking up,” Cristian said, not offended. “I wanted to know what he knew. He is, on the surface, harmless.”

“On the surface, sure. What about underneath? What did you get from him?”

“I don’t know.” Cristian looked troubled. “A very evasive man. He didn’t lie to us—we would have scented that—but he did not provide the entire truth.”

“That’s what I got. That this whole setup is a lie.” Bowman shook his head. “But it’s not. He really is a professor at Asheville. Associate professor, whatever that means.”

“It means he is tenured—he has a secure position at the university—but has not achieved the rank of full professor, which would give him great status and higher pay. It is my guess that with this book and all his research, he seeks to move up the next rung in the ladder.”

Bowman shot him a look. “You know a lot about it.”

“I research humans as much as this Dr. Turner researches Shifters. The Internet is very useful, the Guardian Network even more so—when I can convince the Guardians to look something up for me. I very much wish to read his book.”

“Do. And tell me what’s in it.” They’d made it to the rendezvous point to find Cade waiting. Jamie jogged up as they stopped, and behind him came Kenzie’s grandmother.

Cade pinned Cristian with a glare. “What are you doing here?”

Cristian gave him an alpha stare in return. “Have a care, tracker. Be courteous to your elders.”

“I found Cristian grilling Turner,” Bowman said. “He’s good at it, so I let him. He’s useful.”

Cristian should have bristled at being called useful, but he was too experienced to react to Bowman’s insults. “What did you learn?” Christian asked the other three.

Jamie had his hands on his hips, looking annoyed. “There’s all kinds of Shifters out here today,” he said, glancing at Afina. “Look who I ran into.”

“He nearly did run into me,” Afina said. “I thought cats were graceful.” She smiled when Jamie hid a snarl. “I will be gracious and let you, the important male, tell your leader what we found.”

Jamie gave her another irritated look. He’d never openly be hostile to a venerable female like Afina, but he was not happy. Bowman had to wonder what had happened between them out there.

“We found buildings,” Jamie said. “Small ones. Shacks, to the naked eye, but shored up and well kept. Two of them, about a mile from Turner’s house. We sniffed around, but they were empty. No smell of Shifters, or Fae, or . . . griffins. Might be used by pot farmers.”

“I found one like that too,” Cade said. “About half a mile from here, maybe a little more. Empty, unused, but well kept. Didn’t smell like much of anything.”

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