been around for centuries. Beliefs got lodged deep inside and were not easily pried out.
“Would it scare you, Dad?” he asked out of curiosity. “If the Guardian wasn’t around when your time came?”
Dylan thought as he took another drink. “It’s something we grow up with, the cycle of life: birth, mating, cubs, then the Guardian’s sword at the end. It’s a relief, knowing that you won’t be ending alone, because the Guardian will be there to help you to the Summerland. There’s no evidence we need a Guardian anymore, but why take the chance?”
Sean nodded. “I think that too. I’m betting every Shifter in this bar does.”
“So you see how powerful a Sword of the Guardian would be in the wrong hands? Keep yours safe.”
Sean needed to see the sword now, to know that it still leaned against the wall in Liam’s office with his big brother keeping an eye on it. He glanced toward the office door, but his gaze was arrested halfway there.
Andrea had moved in front of the jukebox, and now she started to dance. A hip swinging, undulating, sexy, gyrating dance. The gaze of every unmated male—Shifter and human alike—swiveled and fixed on her. Ellison whooped and started swaying behind her, beer held high, his body nearly touching hers.
A growl tore from Sean’s throat. Dylan rescued Sean’s beer as Sean sprang from the booth and hurtled across the room to Ellison. Sean’s fingers turned to claws as he latched onto Ellison’s shoulder and jerked him away from Andrea.
Ellison’s Lupine eyes flashed gray white. “Hold on there now, my old friend. We were just dancing.”
“Stay away from her.” Sean’s voice was grating, throat clogged with rage.
The song wailed to an end, and the jukebox clicked off. Silence descended on the room as the two males faced each other. Andrea breathed hard from the dance, her breasts rising most distractingly under her low-cut shirt.
Ellison saw his sideways glance at her and laughed. “Woo, Sean.” He clapped Sean on the shoulder. “You’re walking on a knife edge, my man. Better get this thing blessed, or you’ll be challenging every male who even looks at her.”
Sean knew he should calm himself, laugh it off, but instincts were a bitch. He stepped to Ellison, everything in him wanting to gut the Lupine for coming near Andrea.
Ellison lifted his hands, beer still in one. “Steady, big guy. I’m leaving.” He backed slowly out of range, making sure not to turn his back on Sean.
When Sean didn’t pursue him, the bar relaxed and conversation and laughter started up again. A blood-drenched conflict had been avoided, and Shifters could go back to drinking and enjoying the night.
Andrea was glaring at Sean, hands on hips. “I was dancing, Sean. Get over yourself.” Before Sean could reach for her or say a word, she slammed away from him and marched back to the bar.
After the bar closed, Andrea stashed her apron in the office and left through the back door, only to find Sean waiting for her. The sword’s hilt rose above his shoulder, glittering in the moonlight.
The night was brisk though not as cold as previous nights, spring at last touching the air. The sky had cleared, and the moon was a round disk of white.
Andrea said a silent prayer to the moon goddess and pretended to ignore Sean as he fell into step beside her. He was still angry at her for dancing with Ellison, she felt that, and she was still angry at him for trying to keep her home tonight. The Ellison thing had been partly her fault—she’d been dancing to show Sean what he was missing by being so high-handed.
They reached Shiftertown without either of them saying a word. Though it was late, Shifters lingered on porches, enjoying the brisk night and the bright moonlight. “Now then, Sean,” they called out, in a friendly fashion. “Andrea.”
Sean raised his hand in greeting, and Andrea waved too, secretly pleased that they greeted her by name. The Shifters here were gradually accepting her, and the thought warmed her. She wasn’t fool enough to think they’d welcome her half Faeness with open arms without Sean, but even so, she liked the feeling of belonging.
Glory wasn’t home, the house dark and silent. Dylan hadn’t asked Andrea about Glory tonight, and he’d departed right after Sean had interrupted Andrea’s dance. Andrea had sensed Dylan’s sorrow when she’d brought him the beer, but she doubted he’d make the first overture to Glory. It was too bad. They were