Home is Where the Heart Is (Cloverleah Pack Series Book 15)

by Lisa Oliver

  Wes’s heart ached for the boy trying to sound so grownup. He suspected the crying also upset him, not that the boy would admit that to a stranger. How old would he be? Eight or nine? A kid. A kid or cub, who should be running with his friends. For a bear, the boy was pale and thin. Lack of sun and responsibility for the others would do that to a person.

  Picking his way through the kids who ignored him, Wes followed the little bear down the hallway. Four bedrooms. Three had bunks and one hosted a huge king size bed. His wolf gazed longingly at it. A real bed. Not a nest in sand. His wolf let him know there were no scents connected to it. “Who uses that room? Do you have someone who takes care of you?”

  “Someone was supposed to come to…” the boy hesitated. “Well, anyway. No one came. That was months ago, after they brought us here. Then they stopped coming.” He stepped into a bedroom with bunks. “Carrie, I told you I would find someone.”

  Carrie sat in a corner of the room. She wiped her tears. “You found him. I’m so glad. It hurts.”

  Deer. Wes’s wolf picked up on that immediately. Big soulful eyes filled with tears watched him. “Oh Frankie, you’re so smart.” Carrie’s bottom lip trembled. “I hurt. And I miss Mommy and Daddy so much.” Her sob escaped. “My arm hurts so bad. I need a hug. Frankie hugs good but I need a grownup hug.” Trembling lips, tear filled eyes, Wes was a goner.

  Pulling himself out of the daze he had been in since he saw the house standing there, unreal against the landscape, Wes sank on the edge of the bed. The covers needed washing, but the bed was tidy enough, and besides it wasn’t as though Wes smelled good either. A rag doll was tucked in the corner of the covers and Wes got the impression that was the little bear’s doing. Patting the covers beside him, Wes gestured for Carrie to come to him. “Let’s look at your arm, honey. I’ll see if I can make it better.”

  Working in the FBI hadn’t been all posturing in suits and aviator sunglasses. Wes had worked with abused children before. But there was the little matter of him being a predatory shifter, while Carrie was definitely not. So, Wes sat, not making any sudden moves, waiting for Carrie to decide if she’d trust him. It was amazing just having something soft and comfortable to sit on. Wesley was happy to wait although, when Carrie finally sat on the bed beside him, holding out her bloody arm, he breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  Focusing on the jagged wound, Wes was surprised when Carrie asked, “What’s your name?”

  “Wesley but you can call me Wes.” He looked at the crusted blood and the fresh ooze. “I’m going to need water and a cloth to clean this. Is there…”

  “I’ll get it. We have all that and other stuff in case we got hurt.” Frankie, who’d been hovering protectively, turned to leave the room but stopped. “Carrie, are you okay if I leave for a minute?”

  “It’s okay. You found someone to take care of us.” Carrie said, trembling. “Wes will make sure we’re okay.”

  Wes’s heart melted. Frankie darted from the room. Turning her big eyes on Wes, Carrie said softly, “He tries so hard to take care of all of us. He makes sure we have food and that the little ones are cleaned up. I didn’t listen to him when he said not to leave the house, but I wanted my Mommy and Daddy. Frankie says they won’t be coming back but he didn’t look for them, and I wanted to find them. Maybe the bad guys sent them here, just like they did us, but they might be in a different house. They tried to keep the men from taking me and there was fighting. Mommy and Daddy fell down and the bad men took me. I screamed and screamed but they didn’t come. They still haven’t come.”

  Remembering what Frankie said about their parents being dead, Wes didn’t have the heart to say that to her. She looked so hopeful. “I didn’t see anyone else before Frankie found me. I searched a long time. I don’t think they’re here.”

  “Oh.” Carrie looked down and tears rolled. “Frankie must be really mad at me for being stupid.”

  “You aren’t stupid for wanting your parents. And I don’t think Frankie’s mad at you. I think he’s worried that you got hurt.” Wes stroked her dirty hair. Like all the kids and cubs and pups he saw, she needed a bath, but she looked well fed. He wondered if Frankie was shorting his own food to feed the others. Wes hoped they had more food than he did because he hadn’t seen anything to eat on his travels, and the last of his rations were almost gone. “Did you all come here together?”

  “They put me in a cage. The others were in cages too. Even the babies.”

  Babies? Oh shit.

  “They would take one of us out and do things to us. I could hear them crying. I cried too. They used big needles,” Carrie sobbed.

  “That must have been so scary.” Wes gently wiped her tears with his thumb. He was struggling to keep his own emotions in check, just thinking about the kids in the living room confined in cages with Carrie. “How did you get here?”

  “Men came. They were all dressed in black robes that went right down to the floor and they had funny ears. They yelled at the men with the needles, who acted like they were really scared of them. Maybe it was because of their ears. But they were scared, and then there was a whoosh and we were here.”

  “And you haven’t seen anyone since?” Fuck, how long have these kids been struggling on their own?

  “Just the dark men with the funny ears,” Frankie struggled through the door with a bowl of water and a towel tucked under his arm. “They used to drop in sometimes, but they haven’t been here for a while. They kept saying someone would be here to take care of us.” At least the towel looked clean. Wes stood and took the bowl from under Frankie’s arm as the boy continued. “They said they would be our new parents. We didn’t want new parents. We wanted our parents. Not like that’s going to happen since…”

  Wes cut him off before he made Carrie cry about her parents again. “Did they say anything else?”

  “Oh, yeah. They spouted all sorts of stuff. We were gonna be superstars. Leaders in a new army and we were gonna rule the world.” Frankie paused for a moment and Wes could hear the anger when he finished. “There was nothing wrong with our old lives. They were nuts.”

  “Frankie, you know what the dark men did last time you said stuff like that.” Carrie’s voice trembled and the stench of fear filled Wes’s nostrils.

  Wes sat back down beside her and said softly, “I don’t think they’re coming back, honey. There’s nothing to be afraid of now.” He started to clean her wound.

  “Do you want the first aid kit?” Frankie asked.

  Looking up at the boy, Wes was sure he had surprise written all over his face. “There is one? Yeah. Please.”

  “They left all sorts of stuff including a couple of first aid kits. I’ll get one.” Frankie disappeared again.

  Carrie slid closer and Wes could feel she was still trembling slightly. “I’m glad you’re here. Frankie takes good care of us, but it’s scary without a grown up.”

  Wes reached around her shoulders and hugged her gently. “I’m glad I’m here too.” He grinned. “Even if I’m a bit rusty when it comes to dealing with kids, pups, and cubs.” He winked at her. “And cute little fawns.”

  A high-pitched wail split the air, and then another joined it. Wes shot to his feet.

  “It’s okay, Mister Wes. It’s the littlies. They must need changing… or they want to be fed. They eat a lot.”

  “Littlies?”

  Before she could answer, Frankie ran in the door and tossed the first aid kit at him. “Got to go,” and ran back out.

  “I can’t help him. Please go help him. It takes two of us to feed them when they’re crying like that.” Carrie looked ready to cry too, again.

  “It’s okay, Carrie,” Wes soothed even though his nerves were fraying. “I’m going to soak this towel and I want you to sit here with it wrapped around your wound. It will make it easier to get it off and it won’t hurt a lot.”

  “I can do that.” Carrie nodded looking more sure of herself. The tears dried up. “Please help Frankie.”

/>   Applying the damp towel as quickly as he could, Wes muttered, “I’ll be back,” before striding out of the room. It was easy enough to find Frankie. One set of wailing had stopped but the other was as loud as ever. Oh, hell, what have I got myself into, Wes thought as he picked up the nearest baby, grabbed a bottle, and shut the noisy little tyke up.

  Chapter Three

  “How long before we run out of stuff? Do you have any idea?” Wesley had found coffee in the messy kitchen once the kids had finally gone to bed. He’d immediately made a pot, not caring about the rest of the dishes. Frankie was sitting across the table from him, picking at some toast he’d made, reinforcing Wesley’s belief the young cub wasn’t taking care of himself. It was late, Wesley was running on fumes and Frankie didn’t look much better.

  Frankie shrugged. The poor kid had dark shadows under his eyes. “The dark ones said there was self-perpetuating magic here. I didn’t have a clue what they meant, but when I took the last formula bottle out of the refrigerator, suddenly there was this ding sound, and the shelf was full again. Same with when I used the last of the eggs, the bread, and the milk. All the stuff.”

  “They didn’t mean for you to starve then.” Wesley stared moodily into his cup. He hadn’t been granted the same favor, but then he was only an idiot picked up for goodness knows what reason. The kids were meant to be groomed so the dark ones could ‘rule the world’. “What about other disposable things like diapers, soap, shampoo and things like that?”

  “It all just appears.” Frankie pushed away his half-eaten toast. “The triplets were fascinated when it first happened. Sat in front of the cupboard, pulling out piles of sweets, just to watch it reappear again. They were so sick that day. Ugh.” He rested his head on the table.

  Wes’s heart lurched as he watched the young boy close his eyes. I should let him sleep, he thought, but he had a ton of questions that needed answers. “Frankie,” he said softly but Frankie jumped as though he’d been shot.

  “I’m up. I’m up. What?”

  “I’m sorry, Frankie, I should let you get some sleep in a bed, and not just leaning on a table.” Now Wesley felt like a shit. “I just… do you have any idea how long you’ve been here?”

  Frankie stared at him a long moment, blinking slowly, then just as slowly he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tattered notebook. Opening it to the first page, he showed Wesley the line of marks he’d made. “There’s a clock in the living room,” Frankie said quietly. “It chimes at ten o’clock each night. I figure it’s the dark ones’ way of making sure we all go to sleep by then, although they didn’t figure on the littlies. Every time I hear that noise, I make a mark. I think I’ve got them all, but sometimes I get so tired...”

  He held out the notebook, and Wesley took it. Three pages were full, and Frankie was well on his way down the fourth page. There had to be a minimum of fifty marks on each page, maybe more. “Oh shit, Frankie, I’m so sorry,” he said, shaking his head in wonder at the small cub who’d done so much to hold everything together.

  “You do what you have to do to get by.” Frankie straightened his shoulders and stuck out his chin as if he dared Wesley to contradict him. “Things aren’t as clean as they should be. It took me ages to work out the washing machine and dryer, but the kids get fed regular, by the clock, or when they yell. Not every kid has that.”

  “You’re right, Frankie.” Wesley nodded. “I’ve seen some things, well, in my life before all this…” He waved his hand, waving off the conversation. Frankie didn’t need to hear what he was before Cloverleah, or how his idiocy cost him his freedom. “What can I do to help? Do you want me to take over the laundry duties? Cooking maybe?”

  “Help?” Frankie’s frown was almost comical. “Aren’t you here to take over and run the place?”

  “Frankie, I’m a captive here just like you are.” Wesley dared to reach across the table, laying his hand over Frankie’s. “All I want is to go home and take you all with me. But I’ve walked more miles than I can count around this place trying to find a way out, and I haven’t seen anything but rocks and fu… sand,” he corrected himself quickly.

  “Where I was being held was nothing like this,” Wesley continued. “The place was heavily warded for one thing and I couldn’t get out. But then, one day I woke up, and the wards were gone, so I started walking. You found me. You saved me. I want to help, but the kids trust you more than they trust me.”

  A ghost of a grin flittered across Frankie’s face. “Baby Em throws up on everybody, and as for Zeke, he shifts because he doesn’t like talking. Donny didn’t mean nothing when he pooped in your boots. It’s just, he gets excited in his cheetah form and forgets to use the toilet.”

  Wesley chuckled. “Those boots were trashed anyway. To think, they were so expensive when I bought them.” He sighed and then swigged the rest of his coffee and stood up. The dishes weren’t going to wash themselves. “Okay, well how about we do this. You go and have a bath and get some sleep. I’ll take care of the babies tonight, and then you can do breakfast seeing as I’m sure you have some sort of routine for then. I’ll catch a few hours sleep where I can, after I know you’ve had yours.”

  Frankie looked as though he was going to argue. Wesley arched an eyebrow at him. “You need your sleep, Frankie.”

  Huffing, Frankie stood up. “I still don’t see how you’re going to feed and change three babies with one pair of hands,” was his parting shot as he walked out of the kitchen and headed down the hall.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to feed and change one baby with one pair of hands,” Wesley muttered as he started running the water for the dishes. The hot water supply seemed to be consistent at least. He wished he knew what on earth powered the place, but then he wasn’t on earth anymore, so a question like that was pointless. Finding some dish detergent, he ran a sink full of water, and piled every plate and cup he could find into it, swirling the water with his hands.

  Doing something so normal relaxed him although that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. Wesley could feel his weariness bone deep and he knew he’d have to sleep soon. He also stunk, so bad he offended himself, although the kids didn’t seem to notice. Eleven kids! Wesley was still coming to terms with the number. And they were aged between nine, which was apparently how old Frankie was, down to the six-month-old baby Emily, who had to have been only a few days old when she was taken. Or she could’ve been born in the lab, he thought feeling sad at the idea. Wesley’s own brush with mad scientists had been a while ago, but the men concerned then had no concern for life if it wasn’t pure human.

  The shifting was another concern. Most shifters didn’t take on their animal form until they were in their teenage years. Baby Ollie was the only child Wesley had ever heard of shifting before then, and he’d been rescued from scientists too, thanks to Adair’s mate, Vassago. Gods, I miss my pack. Yes, Wesley knew he’d been silly, not appreciating what he had when he had it. He squeezed his eyes tight as a single tear rolled down his face, followed by another and then another.

  Wesley had no idea how long he stood there, crying into the dishwater, but strangely he felt lighter when he was done. “I can do right by these kids,” he told himself firmly as he searched for a drying towel. “I can make a difference here even if the pack aren’t looking for me. These kids have been through a lot worse than me, and they still play and smile, and give amazing hugs.”

  He smiled as he remembered Carrie kissing him on the cheek when he put her to bed. “If they can do it, I can do it, too,” and then he sighed as he heard a faint wail. “I hope,” he added as he dropped the cloth he’d found and reached for the refrigerator door.

  Chapter Four

  Cloverleah Pack House

  “We need a demon,” Vassago said, ignoring his mate’s glare. “Thanatos can’t sense where Wesley’s been taken and can only confirm he’s not dead. He’s not on the Fae, Djinn, or Elven realms. The only place left is the Underworld, and I’m not silly enough to distur
b Hades on his honeymoon. Don’t let your prejudices against a species cloud your judgment.”

  It was a warm sunny afternoon, and the men from Cloverleah had gathered around Nereus’s pool, enjoying a grilled lunch. But, as often happened when they all got together, the talk soon turned to the missing Wesley. Shawn, as shifter guardian, took Wesley’s abduction personally, especially seeing as no one in the pack had realized it had happened, and everyone had condemned Wesley after he’d used zombie dust to seduce Cathair. Now a feeling of guilt tinged the efforts of the whole pack to find a man who’d apparently disappeared.

  “You just want an excuse to see Myka again,” Adair grumbled, even as he stroked Vassago’s hair. “I hate it when you go down to the Underworld on your own.”

  “I’m not letting you near Myka’s mother.” Vassago smiled. “She’ll spin you around and eat you up for breakfast, then go looking for seconds.” He looked around at the others; even baby Ollie seemed to know there were serious discussions going on and was playing quietly beside Luke’s chair. Raff’s dogs were snoring in the sunlight, although Killer seemed to sleep with one eye open, watching what Ollie was doing.

  “As you know, I have spoken to our seers about this,” Cathair said, his blond hair catching the sun and making him look as though he had a halo. “They can’t ‘see’ Wesley as such, but they agree about the demon.”

  “I swear they talk in riddles,” Marius said, frowning. “He bears gifts for all to cherish and must be found to ensure the continuation of the pack. What kind of nonsense is that?”