Porpoisefully Yours

by Tymber Dalton

  And sure enough, in Olivia’s phone, he found addresses for the entire Nadel family.

  Including Emery’s new address on Manasota Key.

  He wouldn’t try going after Christopher. That would be plain stupid. Do I go after Reese or Laura?

  He considered it. Neither had spouses listed by their names, so they were still likely unmarried.

  But that doesn’t mean they’re single.

  He thought about it.

  Joseph and Louise were definitely out. Even with the age disadvantage, Joseph was a strong, fierce man. Erik knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Louise, either, in this physical state, much less against Joseph.

  Sean’s parents also lived on the Key, not too far from Emery and Sean. Humans.

  But he didn’t have any idea what shape the humans were in. Looking up the address via Google Earth, he quickly scratched that idea. They lived in a stilt home on the Gulf side of the key.

  If he was going to climb that many stairs, he’d do it to get to Sean, not waste the effort on Emery’s in-laws.

  Then again, he wondered who now had the babies. Emery and Sean had an adopted daughter. Would Emery also adopt his nephew and niece?

  Hmm. Now there was a way he could strike deep into Emery’s heart. Kill the babies. Or at the very least, kill that little girl.

  He knew he’d likely have only one more shot. And that one shot might get him killed.

  Not like he had anything left to live for. If he was going to die, he wanted to die taking out whoever would hurt Emery the deepest.

  That would mean Sean or their daughter.

  He got up and used a crutch to make his way to the fridge for a beer. He’d need to ponder on this for a couple of days, at least. He also needed to move to a different location. He didn’t want to do something stupid, like get arrested for being found in a dead man’s house. Especially when his fingerprints were all over the place at Brad and Olivia’s.

  No, he’d need to get on the road tonight. Head to the west coast. There were plenty of run-down motels along the Tamiami Trail in Fort Myers and Naples, places where they’d take cash and not require a photo ID to rent a room.

  As he made his way through the house, scavenging stuff he could use, like clothes, he stopped in Castle’s office and stared at the walls.

  It still amazed Erik how damned close the guy had been to getting it right and breaking everything wide open. For all Castle’s stupidity, he’d lucked out in a big way. He’d seen the patterns and been really, really close.

  Of course, he also had stuff about supposed lake monsters in the Northeast, and the Loch Ness Monster.

  Well, it wasn’t his problem. He was no longer welcomed in shifter society anyway. And he was already a wanted man by the human authorities.

  Fuck ’em. Let them deal with it on their own.

  He finished going through the house. He now had three other suitcases and carry-on bags sitting by the front door.

  Hmm. That’s an idea. Maybe he could feed an anonymous tip to the po-po about Castle and turn a little unwanted press attention onto Emery and the other shifter races.

  But if he did that, it would identify Castle and put them on the lookout for his vehicle.

  That was something he couldn’t risk. He needed the wheels, and he needed them unencumbered by a BOLO.

  He got the car loaded and was out the door before midnight. As he began driving west, he felt a peace settle over him. It wouldn’t be long before this was finished. Whether he’d still be breathing on the other side of it remained to be seen.

  As long as he died knowing he’d hurt Emery in a way that would never heal, it’d be worth it.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days after the murders, everyone gathered at sunset in the same place where they’d held the superpod at Samhain.

  It didn’t feel real to Emery that they were here for a far less joyous occasion. He wanted someone to wake him up from this nightmare, to tell him it’d just been a horrible dream.

  He wanted to take away the grief on his mother’s face as she sat clutching Olivia’s urn tightly to her.

  Brad’s mother sat next to her, holding his urn, the fathers seated in the bow.

  Sam drove his boat, carrying more members of the Nadel clan. Some of their pod members would arrive in boats, some would swim out. With the Gulf waters still chilly, Emery expected a high number of boats. Wyatt and Marisela stayed back at their house with Isla and the twins, with Gus and another gator shifter on guard. After they finished here, everyone would go back to their house for a little while.

  Without a word, Sean anchored them while everyone else gathered around them, the shifters in the water, the boats surrounding them.

  I haven’t even been the Alpha for a year and I have to do this.

  He wished he could shrug off the job to someone else, and yet knew he had to fulfill his duties. To his pod, to his family.

  To Brad and Olivia.

  For them and the twins, if nothing else.

  Emery walked forward and stood on the bow seat. As he thought about what he wanted to say, his throat threatened to close up from the force of his grief.

  He’d watched his father give eulogies before, but never anything like this.

  Never for his own flesh and blood.

  He decided to let his heart do the talking and shut off his brain.

  “Olivia and Brad stated in their will that they wanted their ashes to be scattered in the Gulf, where they’d first met. I remember a rowdy youngling with his eyes set on my little sister, and how I plowed into him during one swim when I thought he was getting a little too fresh with her.”

  From across the water, a soft echo of laughter drifted to them.

  Emery stared into the calm, darkening surface of the Gulf. “I was her big brother. It was my job to mistrust anyone who showed an interest in any of my sisters. We could pick on each other, but you damn sure didn’t tolerate anyone else doing it.”

  He wiped at his eyes, not bothering to hide his tears. “But I liked Brad, and soon came to love him as a brother. He loved Olivia, and she loved him. They came to me to ask how to approach our parents with the news, and I told them that it was obvious how happy they were. That happiness only grew the longer they were together.”

  He coughed to clear his throat. “The happiness expanded when they told us they were expecting twins. The first Nadel grandbabies. I was going to be an uncle. And when Sean and I unexpectedly became parents on Christmas Day, Brad and Olivia were among those who helped Chris and Wyatt prepare our home for our new arrival while we were gone.”

  He let the tears freely course down his cheeks. He wanted to rage, wanted to vent his anger, but knew this was not the time for that. This was the time to honor his sister and brother-in-law, not to give any kind of power or thought to the animal who’d cruelly stolen them from their lives.

  “Brad was a good man, with a good heart and an even better character. I take little comfort in their loss, except for one thing—the Goddess called them back together. They were devoted to each other, and maybe one day the Goddess will see fit to bring their spirits together once more in this world.”

  He coughed again. “I know that does little to lift our grief now. Those of you who know me best know what else is in my heart at this time. But for now, we are here for them. For the two we loved and lost. Nothing takes away from that. Nothing steals what is in our hearts and souls for them. We have our memories, and we have two beautiful children who are the spitting image of their parents.

  “They are now our priority. As a family, as friends, as a pod, we must work together to make sure they see the love their parents had for them in our actions. To show them every day how much they were loved. To never let Brad’s and Olivia’s memories die, even if their children can only know them through those memories.”

  He took a deep breath. “From the oceans, all life on Earth sprang forth. It nourishes our hearts and souls and bodies. And to the oceans we now r
eturn Brad and Olivia, until we are one day reunited with them in spirit, if not in body.”

  He stepped down from the seat and turned to his mother and Sharon. The women stood and, with the help of their husbands, emptied the contents of the urns into the water, the cremains mixing together even as they began drifting along the surface.

  Emery looked at Sean, who stood behind the console and wiped at his face with a piece of paper towel. Knowing he still had obligations to fulfill, all Emery wanted to do was go home, get everyone out of there as quickly as possible, and then cry himself to sleep in his mate’s arms.

  Sean’s gaze met his.

  “Love you, Em.”

  He nodded. “Love you, too, babe.”

  * * * *

  Gerald pulled Emery aside when they were all back at the house. “We need to talk,” he grimly said. “In private.”

  Emery glanced around and led the man into the study, where he closed the door behind them.

  “What?” Emery asked.

  He pulled his phone out and swiped through to a picture, holding it up. It was a picture of the mysterious dead man, taken by police during his autopsy. “I know who he is.”

  “You do? The police didn’t tell us that.”

  “They don’t know yet.”

  Emery stared, dumbfounded. “What?”

  “They don’t know yet.”

  “Why the hell not? You have to tell them.” Deep in Emery’s heart, he knew Erik was behind the killings, even though the detectives hadn’t yet reported their results on fingerprints found at the scene.

  “No.”

  Emery wanted to strangle him. “Give me one good reason.”

  “I was sent this picture this morning and did some asking around. It hasn’t been released to the public, but probably will be by tomorrow morning since they haven’t been able to ID him yet. They didn’t want to make it public until they notified next of kin. But that’s moot until they know who he is to find his kin. His name’s Jake Castle. Ring a bell?”

  Emery’s blood turned to ice water in his veins. He heavily sat in a chair and tried to make sense of that.

  “And I have more news for you.”

  “How do you have this news and I don’t?”

  “Because of our guy working inside, that’s why. The fingerprints are Erik’s. They’re waiting for official confirmation though, which will probably come tomorrow.”

  “Fuck.” He thought about it. “That means Erik was likely working with the guy. That’s how Castle knew where to find Sean’s mom and dad.”

  “I’ve got people on their way to Castle’s house right now. They’re going to see if Erik’s there and take care of him if he is. If not, they’re going to see what else is there, and anything incriminating, they’re going to destroy it.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell me this earlier? If that son of a bitch is there, he’s mine.”

  “Because you have a family and pod to take care of.” He walked over to Emery and put a hand on his shoulder. “Because your place is here. Brad and Olivia were part of my pod as well. You aren’t alone in your grief and rage, you know. Others are suffering. But I knew if I told you, you’d likely do something stupid like head over there alone and possibly bring more attention down on us that we don’t need right now.”

  Emery knew the older shifter was right. He slumped back in the chair and scrubbed at his face with his hands. “Okay. Fine. What’s the next step?”

  Gerald was about to answer him when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it and held up a finger to Emery before he answered. After a brief discussion, he hung up.

  “Erik wasn’t there. It looks like someone’s gone through the place. But there was a shit-ton of evidence about other shifters in the guy’s office. They’ve taken as much as they could find and are setting fire to the house.”

  “We should tell my father all of this.”

  “No. This is Alpha business. The last thing your mother needs is for your father to go charging into this and accidentally get caught up in the police investigation. You need to let us handle this. If anything about shifters does come out, we need you and your immediate family as clear of it as possible. Right now, the cops think it was some sort of home invasion, or a case of mistaken identity by drug dealers or a gang, or something like that. We have to let them keep thinking that.”

  “I’m my pod’s Alpha, and I feel fucking helpless.”

  “It’s not an easy gig,” Gerald agreed. “But we’re working on it. I’m only telling you all of this out of courtesy and that I knew you’d listen to me.”

  He studied Gerald for a long moment. “You wouldn’t have told my father all this, would you? If he was still Alpha?”

  Gerald shook his head. “I love your father like a brother, but I know he’s not a man to wait and let others deal with things he feels are his responsibility. You know how high the stakes are. Not just because of what happened, but because of what could happen. That’s why I need you to keep that in mind, and keep this information to yourself until we’re finally at a point it’s safe to tell your father and the others.”

  “I have to tell Wyatt. He’s my point man on this. He’s in charge of protecting Sean and the kids, and working with the other shifter groups in the mega-Clan to get the word out.”

  Gerald nodded. “All right. He’s a good man. He won’t tell your father?”

  “Not if I tell him not to.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “You’ll kill Erik if you find him?”

  He nodded.

  Emery took a deep breath, held it, and let it out again. “I want proof he’s dead if that happens.”

  Gerald smiled, but it held no humor. “I’ll bring you his head personally. How’s that?”

  Emery extended his hand to shake with the man. “Deal.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  It was the day after the funeral, and Sean had his marching orders. Wyatt stopped by before they dropped Isla and the twins off at Sean’s parents’ house. Wyatt followed Sean, who drove his SUV, and left it and the keys with his parents.

  “Ready, Freddie?” Wyatt asked as they returned to Wyatt’s car.

  Sean glared at him as he climbed in. “No.”

  “Naw, don’t be like that, you. You need to look at this de right way.”

  “What way would that be?” Sean asked as he fastened his seat belt. “That I need to start carrying a dangerous weapon around my children because some psychotic freak is still on the loose?”

  Wyatt didn’t reply. Sean glanced over at him. “I’m sorry,” he said, softening his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

  All traces of Wyatt’s Cajun accent disappeared. “No, it’s all right, Sean,” he softly said. “I hold myself responsible. I should have tried harder to follow him. Make sure he was dead. I didn’t think he’d be able to survive his injuries.”

  Sean felt like crap. After a couple of minutes of silence, he tried again. “I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this,” he said. “It’s just I wasn’t raised with guns. I’m not familiar with them. They scare me.”

  Wyatt solemnly nodded. “It’s awright,” he said, the Cajun accent back. “Think of it as a tool.”

  “A tool I hope I never need to use.”

  “True.” They pulled up to a red light. “A tool you’ll hope you never need to use, but one dat you’ll be glad you had, dat fucker shows up on y’alls’ doorstep.”

  “I won’t argue with that logic.”

  The gun shop was north of Sarasota, almost into Bradenton. They had an indoor gun range, too. Sean watched as three people, two women and a man, shot handguns at paper targets.

  One of the women seemed quite good.

  “She’s a deputy,” one of the store clerks told him.

  It disconcerted Sean a little that the three men working behind the counter all wore sidearms strapped to their belts, in plain sight.

  Wyatt, with the clerks helping, went over pros and cons of various guns with Sean. Aft
er a few minutes, Sean felt more than a little sick to his stomach. “Can’t you just pick one for me and tell me to buy it?”

  Wyatt gave a firm shake of his head. “It don’t work like that, Sean. You need one you’re comfortable with.”

  “I’m not comfortable with any of them, so does it really matter?”

  “Yes,” all three clerks said together.

  Wyatt smiled. “See? They know what I’m talkin’ about.”

  Sean hefted several guns, finally narrowing it down to three possibilities to try in the shooting range, two revolvers and a semiautomatic. Before Wyatt would take him into the range to shoot, however, Sean learned there was another piece to this equation.

  He was getting a private class with one of the men, a firearms instructor, who was going to both go through a safety and handling course with him, in addition to putting him through the concealed carry course required to apply for a license.

  That took the better part of four hours. With a break for lunch at a nearby Mexican restaurant, Sean felt exhausted, drained.

  And he hadn’t even shot one of the damn things yet.

  Now I wish I had taken up paintball in college. He’d had a chance to get on a team with a friend of his. But he’d been too busy with his studies, and with his father riding his ass anytime he even mentioned taking two seconds to do something fun, he’d declined his friend’s invitation to give it a try.

  As they rode back to the shop, Wyatt made a quiet observation. “I’m sure Olivia and Brad didn’t think they’d ever need to do anything like this, either.”

  “That’s a low blow.”

  “Even lower comin’ from me. An’ I’ll tell you why.” He turned into the parking lot, pulled into a spot, and shut off the car before looking at Sean. “I already got the blood of those two on my hands. An’ dat reporter,” he said. “An’ anyone else that sumbitch killed that we don’t know about.” He poked Sean in the shoulder. “You honestly think I could handle losin’ someone I consider a brother? Or those babies?”