by M. D. Grimm
“We need to go, now.” Xavier grabbed Josh’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “The cops will be here soon.”
Josh nodded, dazed. No one had ever been so… possessive of him. Was that the right word for it? With the Agency he was one of many. He was an aide in a place that had hundreds of aides. He’d made friends, sure, but he wasn’t anything special in a place like that. He never wanted to be. He wanted to belong. He still did.
But there was something amazing and wonderful and scary about being singled out. About being… claimed. Was Xavier claiming him? That was bad. That was very, very bad. And yet… why did it feel so good?
Chapter Eight
Xavier didn’t know what was coming over him. Or, rather, he wished he didn’t know. But he did. It was something he’d avoided in his previous life. But he could resist all he wanted—it wouldn’t help.
He was falling for the damn ginger Agency aide.
Glowering, Xavier drove, staring at the road. Of all the creatures on this forsaken planet, he had to choose the one least likely to feel the same. Josh probably found him pitiful and deranged. A way to become an agent. Oh yes, he remembered Josh’s eager words while he’d been in the Agency’s cage. He remembered how desperate Josh was to become an agent. Helping a fucked-up shifter would certainly get him gold stars for that.
Black anger settled on Xavier. He couldn’t resent Josh for his feelings. They were logical, weren’t they? Reasonable? Josh’s life was for the Agency. And his own… well, he’d figure that out as soon as he learned how to either control, or get rid of completely, the voice that even now was thrumming in the back of his head.
He’d thought nothing of his own wellbeing when disarming those punks. It had been pitifully easy to do so, anyway. They might have known how to shoot a gun, but they’d been children without them.
“Thank you,” Josh said quietly.
Xavier raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“For protecting me. Thank you.”
Some of the blank anger left. How could he be mad at Josh without knowing the man’s true feelings? Assumptions always got people into trouble.
“You’re welcome.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Xavier saw Josh open his mouth. But then he closed it and turned to stare out the window. What had he been about to say?
“We’ll be heading south now,” Xavier said. “We’ll approach the desert from the north.”
Josh nodded.
“You think the Agency’s after us yet?”
“I don’t know.”
Xavier didn’t like the short answers. He wanted Josh talking again. Not just because of the voice but because he liked listening. He liked Josh’s voice. He liked learning just how much strange information was stored in that brain.
“Feel free to talk anytime,” Xavier said, trying to sound casual. He thought he managed to pull it off.
Josh glanced at him. “Agent Poe found you in Washington. You went after another wolf shifter and his mate.”
Xavier glowered. That was not what he wanted to talk about.
But, wait. Washington?
“What’s the name?”
“Derek Williams.”
Xavier blinked slowly. Holy hell. Derek Williams? No way. It had been years since that weekend of pleasure with Derek I-want-to-be-an-animal-cop Williams. They’d both left their packs, albeit with different going-away parties. Xavier’s had been a boot to the ass, and Derek’s had been tearful. They were both pack shifters out in the real world for the first time. A little scared, very much alone. They’d gravitated toward each other when they’d locked eyes in that bar.
Derek?
“Did I…?”
“No,” Josh said instantly. “No. He’s still alive. And, well, he has a new mate. You, um, actually attacked his mate and….”
Josh’s voice trailed off. Xavier ran his fingers through his hair. He shook his head. “The mate still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Xavier meant it. Derek deserved happiness, and it would kill Xavier to know he’d taken that away. But he hadn’t. Derek was safe and with a mate who could appreciate him. That was good. That was right.
Perhaps, in his insane state, he’d been jealous. Or maybe, he’d simply gone back to where he knew shifters resided. Easier to find and kill if you already knew their location. Xavier gripped the steering wheel.
“Easy,” Josh said softly. He reached over and laid his hand gently on Xavier’s arm. “Easy there, Xavier. What’s past is past. All we can do is move forward.”
Xavier nodded. He glanced at Josh’s hand, the freckles on the back of it, the slim fingers. Move forward? Easier said than done, especially when he wanted to move forward with someone by his side. Someone he trusted, someone he could talk to. Who could talk to him.
Xavier laid his hand over Josh’s, squeezing gently.
Fate was a bitch with a sick sense of humor.
It was amazing how much humor was in this shifter. Now that he remembered his past, he told Josh about pranks he used to play on his pack. Some were rather vicious.
Josh shook his head after Xavier finished another story. “You’re awful.”
Xavier grinned wide, the sun glinting off his white teeth. “I know. But it was a quid pro quo situation with my pack. They played pranks on me, and I returned the favor.”
“Where are they now?”
Xavier’s grin faded. Josh half wished he could take back the question.
“I don’t know.” Xavier shrugged. “They booted my ass out when I was nineteen. That was fine by me, though. I’d severed myself from them long before that.”
He frowned. “Were they really as bad as all that?”
Xavier shrugged again, but it was little more than a jerk. “We never saw eye to eye. I told you, they were paramilitary. Cultish. They were conservative traditionalists, and I was a rebellious brat. Wolf shifters were top alphas in their eyes. No other shifter compared. I wouldn’t conform. I fucked cougars, coyotes, deer. Just to stick it to them.”
Josh raised his eyebrows. It was a little odd to hear it put that way, even though he knew “shifter” was implied behind each animal name.
A thoughtful silence fell between them. Josh looked up as they passed by a large sign welcoming them to Nevada. Thank God. They’d driven straight through Utah without stopping, with several loops and going over the same roads. He was sure it was unnecessary, though he didn’t dare say anything. Josh had wanted to stay a little, though, act the tourist―the landscape and scenery were beautiful. Majestic. The real Wild West. He wished he’d had a camera. But it was good they were reaching their destination. His butt was falling asleep. He was tired of cars. Of stealing.
As they drove down a curvy back road, passing signs indicating how many miles away some towns were, the truck suddenly jerked. Josh gripped the door handle as the truck zigzagged across the entire road. Xavier gripped the wheel, controlling the movement, and managed to guide it to the side of the road. Dirt and sand flew up as Xavier stepped on the brakes. The truck stopped, and Josh’s heart pounded in his ears. He panted and tried to calm his trembling. Xavier took a moment before climbing out of the truck. Josh followed a moment later, his legs still weak.
It was a flat tire, popped and worthless. Xavier growled and began searching behind the seats, then the back, and came up empty.
Josh groaned. There wasn’t a spare. Great.
They both stood, silent. Xavier suddenly kicked one of the good tires.
“Hey!” Josh scolded. “Don’t do that. We need all the working ones we can get.”
“Won’t matter if we can’t get a spare!” Xavier said with a deep scowl.
Josh swallowed his retort. The heat was making them even angrier. The temperature had slowly risen as the day progressed and as they came closer to Nevada. Now it was late afternoon and the sun was gleefully unhindered in the sky. Josh walked to the passenger’s side, grabbed his water, and chugged down the remaining half bottle. He
sighed and looked around, trying to think what to do. A sign a little way ahead caught his eye. He hurried to it. It indicated towns and cities and the miles still to go to reach them. Josh’s shoulders slumped. No chance.
But there was a smaller sign below the bigger one. It indicated there was a ranch far closer. Two miles. That’ll do. Josh returned as Xavier continued to snarl at the truck, his arms crossed, his body tense.
“There’s a ranch not far from here,” Josh said once he was in earshot. “We can go there, see if they can help us.”
“Fine.” Xavier grabbed a small bag from the back of the truck and filled it with water, some granola bars, a flashlight, and other needed supplies.
“Um.” Josh hesitated, digging at the ground with his foot. “Maybe I should go alone. I mean, we don’t know if the ranch has shifters, and someone should guard the truck.”
Xavier stared at him. Then he looked to his right, then his left down the road. There were no cars in sight, nor could any sounds of cars be heard. They were on a back road that curved and zigzagged frequently. Xavier looked back at Josh and raised an eyebrow.
Josh sighed. “Okay, never mind.”
Xavier slung the backpack over his shoulder and gestured for Josh to go ahead. Josh blew air out, which lifted his curly bangs out of his eyes. He turned and began walking. They fell into step, matching each other’s long-legged stride. Josh appreciated the fact that he didn’t have to slow his pace or lengthen it.
He wiped his hand across his brow and grimaced at the moisture that clung to it. His hand brushed his bruise, but no pain came from the contact. It wasn’t even tender. He took off his jacket and tied it around his waist, glad he’d put sunblock on that morning when it had been relatively cool. He hated the sun. He resembled a tomato every time he was out in it for five minutes or more without the proper protection.
Xavier, however, looked like he was enjoying it. He lifted his face to the sun, and his skin appeared to tan before Josh’s eyes. Feeling jealous was stupid, but he felt it anyway. Then he began to admire the shifter’s physique, and that wasn’t any better. He looked away, staring straight ahead.
“I can take my turn with the pack,” Josh said a moment later. He gestured to the backpack Xavier wore.
“No need. It’s not that heavy.”
Josh frowned. “I’m not weak, you know.”
Xavier tilted his head as he looked at Josh. “I didn’t say you were. I don’t think you are.”
Feeling foolish, Josh looked at the ground.
“In fact, you’re probably the strongest person I know.”
Thrown off guard, Josh stopped walking and stared at Xavier. “Huh?”
Xavier smiled slightly. He stopped his forward progress and turned to look fully at Josh. “I think you heard me. You’re strong, Josh. And brave. Thank you for helping me. I couldn’t have done this without you.”
Josh was speechless. Again. How could this wolf shifter render him wordless so easily? “You’re―you’re welcome?”
Xavier smiled, nodded. Then he turned and continued walking. Josh caught up with him, feeling guilty for some reason.
“Look,” he said finally. “In the interest of being completely honest, while I want to help you regain… whatever it was you lost, I also want to become an agent.” Josh took a deep breath. “I hope that, should I be able to help you, the Agency will see that I’m ready.”
Xavier nodded. “That makes sense.”
Josh wondered if he imagined the tightness in Xavier’s voice.
“You want to prove yourself,” Xavier said. “And you’re using me to do it. I understand.”
“No!” Josh shook his head. “No, that’s not what I meant―”
“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Xavier flashed him a deadly look. Josh’s back went rigid. “I’m just a hoop, an obstacle you have to overcome. Once you prove that you can help a fucked-up shifter, then everything in your life will be perfect.”
“Damn it! Don’t put words in my mouth,” Josh said through gritted teeth. “I want to help you because you need help. Because we made a deal. I do care what happens to you… you… damn wolf shifter!”
Josh stalked ahead, fuming. Not so much at Xavier, but at himself. He did care, too much. He needed to keep his goal to become an agent hanging over his head. He needed to stay focused. If he didn’t… hell, he could see himself caring far too deeply for this shifter. Xavier touched something inside him. As if—as if their souls recognized each other. It was ridiculous, of course, but didn’t the rest of the world find the idea of shifters ridiculous? Didn’t Josh himself believe in magic? Souls that had a mind of their own didn’t seem too out there, comparatively.
But he didn’t want his soul to recognize Xavier’s. He didn’t want anything to do with the shifter. He just wanted to help him, because of his duty, and then leave. But Josh was finding that harder to accept. He didn’t want to leave Xavier. He didn’t want to leave behind this sense of importance, the sense that he was needed. Only him.
And that was just selfish. Wasn’t it?
The turnoff was just ahead of them, and Josh turned to his right. He felt Xavier behind him, a silent, powerful force. Josh wondered what Xavier was thinking. Then he hoped he didn’t find out.
They followed the gravel road along its winding course. Small trees were dotted here and there along the sides, and the ground began to slope upward. They climbed a small hill, and suddenly, before them was a large house spread out elegantly. It was only one story, but it covered a lot of ground, giving a sense of luxury without being obnoxious about it. The architecture was straight lines with an artistic flare here and there. The majority of the house was done in a peaceful tan with a darker color for the trimmings. All in all, it gave the impression of a quiet, rustic, elegant family home.
A large fence circled part of the field behind the house, and as they got closer, Josh noticed a large, well-built barn. The larger field behind the smaller one was fenced as well. Josh could just make out some cows, or maybe bulls, in the distance.
Who lived in such a beautiful place?
Josh glanced at Xavier, who also looked impressed. He swept his gaze around in approval. As they approached the front door, Xavier abruptly stopped. Josh turned around.
“What is it?”
Xavier’s eyes narrowed. He lifted his nose to the air and took several tentative sniffs. Josh frowned. Then his eyes widened when Xavier doubled over and moaned.
“No way.”
Xavier dropped the pack. “You have to… I can’t.” He gripped his head and staggered away.
“That’s fine, Xavier. Go. Just go.” Josh shoved him away. Xavier ran, his long legs eating up the ground as he distanced himself from the ranch that housed a shifter. Irritated, sweaty, and worried, Josh stamped his foot once. Dirt floated up into the air. Shaking his head, he grabbed the bag and walked up the short steps to the small porch. He knocked on the door.
As he waited for an answer, he glanced at the penned field and found himself staring into the big brown eyes of a bull. He blinked. Bulky and graceful about it, the bull stared back, his tail flicking back and forth. Sleek, rich brown hair covered his entire body, and his horns grew large and fierce, their ends pointed. Josh frowned. Most ranchers filed the horns of their bulls to keep them from gouging bovine and human alike. Why didn’t this rancher? Odd.
Josh took a closer look into those brown eyes and dropped his bag.
Shifter.
The intelligence was undeniable. The bull was staring at him, evaluating him, determining if he was a threat. Something niggled at the back of his mind as he continued to stare at the bull shifter. It had to do with an older case Agent Poe had in Nevada….
The front door opened and Josh got an eyeful of rugged cowboy. Broad shoulders, trim waist, long legs encased in tight jeans… oh yeah, here was a real cowboy. Short brown hair curled elegantly around a finely shaped face that was tanned by long hours in the sun, with a strong chin and nose. In
telligent jade eyes considered him with nothing but curiosity.
Josh swallowed. “Um, hi. Sorry to bother you, but I got a flat a few miles back. No spare.” He shrugged sheepishly. “Would you be able to help?”
The man’s grin was swift and genuine. It brightened his eyes, and Josh was unnerved at how pretty he was.
“Sure I can,” the man said, his tone friendly. “What sort of vehicle is it? If it’s a truck, you might be in luck. Otherwise, we’ll need to go to a tire store. There’s one several miles from here. Or I can call you a tow truck.”
“I―it’s a truck. You don’t have to tow me anywhere.” He was a little thrown by the man’s generosity. “I don’t want to trouble you―”
The man chuckled. “It’s no trouble. That road is hazardous. You ain’t the first to come by looking for help. I’m Caleb, by the way.”
Something clicked in Josh’s head and he blurted, “The one with the bull shifter?”
Caleb’s easy smile vanished, and he narrowed his eyes. He fisted his hands and took a menacing step toward Josh. “Who the hell are you?”
Josh gulped. “Wait! I’m not here to―I’m Josh. I’m with the Agency.”
Caleb stopped advancing. His eyes were still narrowed but instead of open hostility, now there was only wariness. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m an aide. I―I know Agent Poe. He helped you, right? You and Whirlwind?”
Caleb raised an eyebrow. “You know Poe?”
Josh nodded vigorously. “I swear I don’t mean you any harm. I really do have a flat tire. It’s just―just coincidence that I’m here and… don’t hurt me.”
Most of the wariness left Caleb’s eyes, and humor replaced it. “Don’t hurt you? You sure you’re part of the Agency? The ones I met could make me cry for my mamma.”
Josh smiled slightly. “Yeah, well. I’m not an agent. Not yet, anyway.”
“He’s telling the truth.”
Josh jumped; literally leapt several inches off the porch. He swung around to find a large man with dark skin, nearly the same rich brown the bull had been, standing just behind him. He also had the same intelligent brown eyes as the bull. He was also buck naked.