he’d begun pacing.
He reached the end of the hallway and kept going this time, refusing to allow himself to make another pass by her door. Instead he moved into the kitchen to check the time.
Five minutes after the last time he’d looked.
Another circuit, first to the table and his cell phone to see if he’d missed any calls, then to the guest room door to make sure Carmen still slept. He’d been doing the same thing over and over in the hour since Jackson had called to say he was on his way with Carmen’s brother. Not the young one, who was inconsequential, but Julio.
Another wolf.
His own wolf snarled softly, and Alec ignored the inner urging toward violence. Carmen might not have changed, but his instincts were so confused by the magic pulsing inside her that it didn’t matter. For primal urges nothing mattered but perception, and every sense told him Carmen Mendoza was another shapeshifter.
A beautiful, vibrant, hungry shapeshifter whose out-of-control power all but demanded his strength in return.
“Fuck.” He bit off the word and stalked away from the door, bypassing the clock completely this time as he moved toward the kitchen table. Two weeks’ worth of mail sat awaiting his attention, most of it catalogs stacked on top of the latest issue of Guns & Ammo. The catalogs were addressed to Heidi—proof that neither magic nor a psycho-shapeshifter reputation could convince a company to take a client off its damn mailing list.
Rifling through them gave him something to do other than check Carmen’s breathing for the seventeenth time that hour. He discarded sleek advertisements entreating him to buy beads, clay, fabric, power tools and yarn. Then he browsed through his magazine and pondered buying a new shotgun until the distant purr of an engine tickled at the edge of his senses.
The sound drew closer, turned into a too-familiar rattle. Jackson had reclaimed his rust-bucket truck from Mackenzie at some point, and the distinctive engine was impossible to mistake for any other vehicle.
Julio Mendoza was about to invade his territory.
Visit his sister, he corrected viciously. The man had every right to be worried about his sister. Hell, Alec would have thought less of him if he hadn’t been ready to kill anyone who stood in his path.
It didn’t make it any easier to have another young, cocky interloper shoving his way into Alec’s battered territory, even if Andrew had apologized and already fixed his front door.
The rattle of Jackson’s truck became a rumble, and that inner uneasiness prodded Alec out to meet his guests on the porch.
Both men looked like hell. Of course, Julio had been traveling all day, and Jackson had been hitting every one of their contacts and resources hard, trying to figure out what the hell that witch had done to Carmen.
He waved a hand in Alec’s direction. “There he is. Alec Jacobson. Knock yourself out.”
Julio Mendoza studied Alec as he approached the porch steps. “Is she inside?”
“Yes.” Sizing him up as an opponent was inevitable. Julio wasn’t tall, but he was the sort of solid that came from adding muscles to an already strong frame. He wouldn’t be fast in a fight, but he’d be a wall you could pound yourself against without knocking him over. Youth and stamina would make him a frustrating—and dangerous—enemy.
He had power too, but the magic was more like Derek Gabriel’s. Dominant strength directed inward, a strong wolf with strong instincts, but not someone who felt like a threat. Julio Mendoza could rule if he had to, but he lacked the fire that made Andrew so deadly.
That changed in an instant as his dark eyes heated. “Stop looking at me like that. It makes me think you might be a threat.”
“That just makes you smart.”
“Smart, maybe,” he allowed, “but a lot less inclined to believe your friend there when he says Carmen would be better off staying here.”
Alec brought his aggressive instincts under control by willpower