Page 20 of Kidnapping Their Third

Joy exploded in Hunger. Yes, that was what he wanted, his flock to feel loved and safe. It was too bad that at this perfect moment, Hunger started to fade. He could feel the fatigue in his body threatening to drown him. He’d been starved before meeting Pike, but the energy he expended creating the soul bond had taken the last of his small reserve of energy.

“Flock,” he whispered before he felt his body go limp.

“My mate!” Pike cried out, using the hug to awkwardly pick Hunger up. He held Hunger for several seconds, worrycoming across clearly in their link. Hunger tried to send him reassuring thoughts.

Pike shifted his body so the vampire was cradled in the bear’s arms. He was staring at Hunger, his mouth turned down in a worried frown. Hunger tried to push thoughts of love through their link as he watched Pike through half-lidded eyes. His hunger might have made him weak, but he was content at the moment.

“I think you need blood. I can feel you in my head, happy but hungry.” With Hunger still in his arms, he turned and managed to open the back door of the car. He gently laid Hunger across the long bench seat of the ancient Cadillac, bundling up a sweatshirt to act as a pillow.

“Rest, my mate. I’m going to change the tire and then I’ll take us home.”

That sounded good to Hunger. He’d been alone so long he’d forgotten what it was like to have someone in his life who cared if he lived or died. He tried to smile up at Pike, even as his eyes refused to remain open.

“You need a name,” Pike murmured, using another sweatshirt as a blanket. “I guess I’ll call you Kimble until you can tell me different.”

Kimble. Hunger liked that. A new name for a new era.

“Nine months later, and he still can only say a few words at a time, and his eyes are as red as the day we met,” Pike concluded, pulling Kimble out of the memory. He heard the sadness in the bear's voice and wished he could make Pike understand that Kimble had come a long way because of Pike’s hard work, dedication, and love. His mind was far less chaotic, and he could even think in clear sentences sometimes.

When he was completely back to himself, he’d shower Pike with words! He’d talk so much the shifter would wish he was mute again.

“It’s romantic that he rescued you and then you rescued him,” Cora commented. “But how can you be fated mates with more than one person?”

“It’s uncommon,” Pike said. “But not unheard of. And if I’m fated to a vampire, it would almost guarantee I’d have at least one more fated mate out there.”

“Wouldn’t you rather have another bear shifter?” Cora asked, the insecurity clear in her voice.

“Never,” Pike answered without hesitation. “I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful or fierce mate. I think you’re tougher than a lot of shifters I know. When we were on our way to rescue you, Mac and Lex told me what happened in that alley. Did you really pepper spray a vampire?”

Cora chuckled. “Only after I kicked a guy in the balls. It didn’t do any good though, Imani and I still ended up in Vincent’s basement.”

Pike shook his head. “You have the will to fight and with the right tools, you could be as deadly as any of us.”

“I like tools,” Cora murmured, sounding pleased.

Although he was determined to always be around to protect his human, he could hear the eagerness in her voice at the idea of owning weapons that would make her competitive in this new magical world she’d fallen into.

It would take some difficult trading, but Kimble knew exactly what he needed to get her.

Chapter 8

Pike

Pike was a naturally easygoing bear. He was slow to anger and quick to calm down. His mother often said he was born smiling and never stopped. While that was a gross exaggeration because he remembered bursting into tears plenty of times as a child, he understood what she was saying.

He was a happy bear who wanted nothing more than for those around him to be happy and content as well. The problem was that in order to make his new mate happy, he’d been forced to drive her to the club to get her car. He’d hoped she would agree to come back to his apartment, but she insisted she needed some time alone.

He’d followed her home and now he was parked across the street, staring at Cora’s little house from inside the Coupe DeVille. It was a white, single-story home built in droves during the 1950s, with a single-car garage and a short driveway. The front yard was a collection of drought-resistant plants and an equal number of large ornaments.

There was even a white fence. It wasn’t a picket fence, but it was white and only a few feet high. Her mailbox was a miniature replica of her house. It was all as adorable as the owner. She’d parked her car out front instead of the driveway or garage. Then she’d collected her mail and let herself into the house as if it was anyaverage day.

But it wasn’t! She was his mate and Kimble’s flock. She’d almost died forty-eight hours earlier. He’d almost lost one of his mates.

What was he doing? If she found him sitting here staring at her house like a creepy stalker, it might make things worse. She’d asked for space and the first thing he’d done was ignore that request.

No matter how much he assured his bear that she was safe, he couldn’t get himself to leave. In truth, it was hanging out with her friend Imani that had put her in the path of danger. Home alone, she probably wouldn’t run into any more vampires or other creatures determined to hurt and or kill her.

Except that wasn’t entirely true, was it? Anyone who watched the news knew that the average American woman was actually a common victim of human crime.

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