Dark and Damaged: Eight Tortured Heroes of Paranormal Romance: Paranormal Romance Boxed Set by Colleen Gleason
Authors: Colleen Gleason
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that was it.”
Bree pulled hurriedly across two lanes, earning honks, yells, and fingers, diving for the exit. Seamus directed her east, and they drove on again. Enfield was a quieter, if narrow street, heading up a hill before it descended again toward the tall buildings of downtown.
Seamus was peering carefully around again, directing her down a side street and then to another little artery that seemed to go nowhere.
“You know, we’re almost out of gas,” Bree pointed out.
“Not far now,” Seamus said absently.
They ended up at Lamar. Seamus directed her south on this street, then into a smaller neighborhood. The houses here were nearly obscured with overgrown trees and bushes. Old houses perched on rises above the street, stone stairs leading up to them.
“Are you sure this is right?” Bree asked. “This is like the middle of downtown Austin. Well, very close, anyway. You know, with police stations and everything.”
“I know,” Seamus said. “Here.” He pointed.
Bree guided the old car to the curb, or rather, the side of the road. There were no sidewalks, just the narrow street hidden among trees and behind a curve of hill that followed the Colorado River. Bree knew that they were in the middle of the city—with people in cars rushing everywhere—but in this little area, hidden from all eyes, they might have been in the quiet countryside.
“Not what I expected,” Bree said in a hushed voice.
Seamus climbed out of the car and carefully shut its door—no slamming. Bree joined him, taking the same amount of care.
Seamus gave her a half smile as he waited for her. “Did you think I’d bring you to a burned-out shack in the middle of nowhere? Even rogue Shifters like running water and electricity.”
“Funny.” Bree wrinkled her nose. “Lead on.”
Seamus took her to a flight of steps that went up the hill, each individual step nestled into the earth. They climbed about fifteen of these, trees closing around them to shield them from passers-by on the road. Not that Bree saw or heard anyone.
Seamus pulled off his fake Collar as they walked, the ends unfusing at his touch as easily as they’d joined. Bree wondered how on earth Sean had made it to do that. He truly was an artist.
At the end of the steps lay a narrow dirt path, at the end of the path a house. The house was small, white, and needing paint, with a wide porch of the bungalow style. The windows were framed by black shutters, also needing paint. The yard around it had seen better days, the grass yellow now with coming winter. At one time, though, Bree could tell, flower beds had lined the path and the perimeter of the house. The whole place was quaint, tiny, and the kind of place Bree would love to live.
Seamus walked up to the front porch, took a key from his pocket at the same time he stuffed the Collar into it, and unlocked and opened the door. He entered the house first to make sure all was well within, as Shifters did.
“All right, Francesca?” he called softly inside.
Francesca? Who the hell was
...
Must be the tall woman with a mass of brown hair coming down the stairs, her rangy look telling Bree she was Lupine.
The Shifter who came galloping from the back at the sound of Seamus’s voice wasn’t Lupine—or Feline either. It was a bear, a brown one, and very, very small. He, or she, barreled toward Seamus on short legs with oversized paws, and ran smack into him.
CHAPTER 10
Seamus rocked a little as the cub slammed into his legs, then he paused to let himself feel vast relief. Katie was all right.
Bree, behind him, stopped in astonishment. Seamus felt the waves of her confusion and wonder roll off her.
“And who is
this
?” Bree asked with eager interest.
The little bear was clinging to Seamus’s leg, claws coming through his jeans, as Bree’s cat’s had done this morning.
“This is Katie,” Seamus said, his voice a low rumble. “I’m looking after her.”
Katie looked up at her name. The cub was
Bree pulled hurriedly across two lanes, earning honks, yells, and fingers, diving for the exit. Seamus directed her east, and they drove on again. Enfield was a quieter, if narrow street, heading up a hill before it descended again toward the tall buildings of downtown.
Seamus was peering carefully around again, directing her down a side street and then to another little artery that seemed to go nowhere.
“You know, we’re almost out of gas,” Bree pointed out.
“Not far now,” Seamus said absently.
They ended up at Lamar. Seamus directed her south on this street, then into a smaller neighborhood. The houses here were nearly obscured with overgrown trees and bushes. Old houses perched on rises above the street, stone stairs leading up to them.
“Are you sure this is right?” Bree asked. “This is like the middle of downtown Austin. Well, very close, anyway. You know, with police stations and everything.”
“I know,” Seamus said. “Here.” He pointed.
Bree guided the old car to the curb, or rather, the side of the road. There were no sidewalks, just the narrow street hidden among trees and behind a curve of hill that followed the Colorado River. Bree knew that they were in the middle of the city—with people in cars rushing everywhere—but in this little area, hidden from all eyes, they might have been in the quiet countryside.
“Not what I expected,” Bree said in a hushed voice.
Seamus climbed out of the car and carefully shut its door—no slamming. Bree joined him, taking the same amount of care.
Seamus gave her a half smile as he waited for her. “Did you think I’d bring you to a burned-out shack in the middle of nowhere? Even rogue Shifters like running water and electricity.”
“Funny.” Bree wrinkled her nose. “Lead on.”
Seamus took her to a flight of steps that went up the hill, each individual step nestled into the earth. They climbed about fifteen of these, trees closing around them to shield them from passers-by on the road. Not that Bree saw or heard anyone.
Seamus pulled off his fake Collar as they walked, the ends unfusing at his touch as easily as they’d joined. Bree wondered how on earth Sean had made it to do that. He truly was an artist.
At the end of the steps lay a narrow dirt path, at the end of the path a house. The house was small, white, and needing paint, with a wide porch of the bungalow style. The windows were framed by black shutters, also needing paint. The yard around it had seen better days, the grass yellow now with coming winter. At one time, though, Bree could tell, flower beds had lined the path and the perimeter of the house. The whole place was quaint, tiny, and the kind of place Bree would love to live.
Seamus walked up to the front porch, took a key from his pocket at the same time he stuffed the Collar into it, and unlocked and opened the door. He entered the house first to make sure all was well within, as Shifters did.
“All right, Francesca?” he called softly inside.
Francesca? Who the hell was
...
Must be the tall woman with a mass of brown hair coming down the stairs, her rangy look telling Bree she was Lupine.
The Shifter who came galloping from the back at the sound of Seamus’s voice wasn’t Lupine—or Feline either. It was a bear, a brown one, and very, very small. He, or she, barreled toward Seamus on short legs with oversized paws, and ran smack into him.
CHAPTER 10
Seamus rocked a little as the cub slammed into his legs, then he paused to let himself feel vast relief. Katie was all right.
Bree, behind him, stopped in astonishment. Seamus felt the waves of her confusion and wonder roll off her.
“And who is
this
?” Bree asked with eager interest.
The little bear was clinging to Seamus’s leg, claws coming through his jeans, as Bree’s cat’s had done this morning.
“This is Katie,” Seamus said, his voice a low rumble. “I’m looking after her.”
Katie looked up at her name. The cub was
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