by Jools Louise
Rage stepped forward, his hair cut in a hard-ass Mohawk, a dark brown ridge tipped with blond that ran from his forehead to the nape of his neck, his eyes a shade of pale gold. “Why?” he asked simply, hooking his thumbs into the loops of his jeans.
Jay eyed the man as he turned from the counter, bringing over a tray piled with baked goods, beverages, and some slices of apple pie.
“All of us here have dealt with evil in some way,” he said. “None of us are saints, some less so than others,” Jay said with a droll look at John, who grinned back unrepentantly, brushing his knuckles against his chest as though dusting off a medal. Jay rolled his eyes, hearing a slight snort from the wolverines. “John, Jane, and I watched our mother hunted and killed in front of us, her carcass skinned as though she was nothing, even though she was a shifter. The hunters were working for the cult. We’re lucky, we found each other again, and we also found our mates.” He thought of his lovers and felt the love clench his heart. “You’ve suffered worse, I think. You thought you were doing what you did for your family and to protect your mate.”
“If they come here, they won’t care who gets hurt. They’ll want to get to us at any cost. We’re worth a lot more to them dead than alive,” Charm interjected, his hair sticking up in gelled spikes, tipped with bright red dye. His head resembled an old-fashioned, medieval mace—the look in his eyes backing up the badass image. His arms were bare and sported Celtic tattoos. Jay thought they probably all wore them. Charm’s eyes were a sherry red, unusual and mesmerizing and dark with anger.
John chuckled, his eyes gleaming with the anticipation of a good fight. “Gentlemen, me and my crew can take anything your lot can dish up, believe me.” His eyes went dark with promise, going into full predator mode in the blink of an eye, dangerous and deadly. “If they even look at someone in a way we don’t like, they’ll see just what the Two Spirit crew are capable of,” he finished, letting loose an impressive snarl, his top lip curling in a mocking sneer.
“I’m sorry I pushed things,” Jay said apologetically. “If I’d had any clue what your family had done…I should have left it alone.”
“We didn’t exactly make things easy,” Lash admitted, his amber eyes glancing at everyone with no hint of the aggression he usually showed. He wore a ripped black T-shirt with the logo of a famous brand of diet cola and black jeans, and his hair was arranged into a warrior’s tail. His head was shaved on both sides, leaving a thick length of hair that fell down his back, plaited to his waist. He wore a tattoo of a dragon on one side of his scalp, its red eyes blazing fire, and a wolverine on the other—both had claws and fangs extended and looked fierce as hell.
All four wolverines sat at the table gingerly, reaching hesitantly for the pastries and then wolfing them down in quick succession, not making another sound until the plate was clear. They then drank down the hot coffee greedily. Jay felt a twinge of guilt that he hadn’t tried to help them sooner. It had been a couple of months now since they had all been rescued from the secret tunnel. They still looked half-starved.
“Here, guys, I’m trying out a new relish for our burgers, why don’t you tell me what you think?” Douglas said, bringing four plates with triple-decker cheeseburgers, curly fries, mayonnaise, and a sweet-corn relish. Placing the burgers in front of each of the shifters, he winked and then left to continue prepping for lunch.
The four wolverines stared at the huge plates of food as though they’d never seen anything like it.
“Tuck in, boys,” John said cheerfully. “You’ll need all your strength if you’re going to keep up with your sexy little mate, here.” He waggled his brows and stole a curly fry from Slug’s plate. “Ethan’s getting stronger and feistier by the day. I think he’s more than a match for you four badasses.” Winking, he got to his feet and began to clear tables nearby. “We’ll talk strategy when you’ve eaten. I’ll need to warn people what to expect.” This last was said with all seriousness. Then he got back to work.
Jay watched as the wolverines sent shy glances over to Ethan, who smiled back hesitantly, blushing from John’s teasing. He tucked a strand of long, light brown hair behind his ear, his eyes darting over the four wolverines as though he’d never seen them before—or was seeing them in a different light.
“Tuck in,” Jay told them, and watched with awe as the burgers were devoured in record time, with an intensity that told him they’d definitely not been eating properly since they’d been released. He thought it was time they all made amends for not seeing the bigger picture.
Chapter Four:
Whooping Wolverine Ass
Mason checked his guests in, not liking the plan the Two Spirit crew had cobbled together a week ago. He had a bad feeling about the whole thing. Worse was that it involved his beloved guest house. If anything untoward happened to his place, those bloody wolverines would have more trouble than they knew what to do with—and he didn’t mean the four who had been so abused by their family. The family who was currently checking in to his guest house were all related to their wolverine quarter, and none of the newcomers looked particularly pleasant.
He maintained a polite visage, treating them just like every other guest he’d had to date, but his opinion of them was far more unsavory. The oldest guests, eight of them, were the parents of the wolverines they were protecting, he surmised. They stood in the foyer with their noses twitching like they smelled something bad. He rarely got agitated or angry, but he could feel his jaguar taking exception to the visitors’ ill-mannered attitude.
The four younger shifters must be the siblings. Two females and two males all wore snooty expressions, staring about the foyer as though they were about to be assaulted by something nasty.
“You may take our bags up to our rooms,” one of the female siblings commanded, waving an indolent hand toward the stairs.
Mason arched one brow, catching sight of Alfie’s grinning face peering at him from the dining room where the man was setting up for the evening meal that the snobbish family had requested. “Of course, madam,” he answered the female, grabbing the room keys and four of the cases, heading upstairs. He would normally use the elevator, but since these idiots were so rude, they could take the bloody stairs.
He heard footsteps trundling behind him and directed his guests to their rooms, listening to the grumbling as they inspected the place. Apparently his little inn wasn’t quite as glitzy as the Hilton or Savoy. He bit back a snarl. If they didn’t like it, he’d direct them to the road leading out of town and they could just keep on driving. Arrogant little fuckers!
Trotting back to the ground floor, Mason entered the kitchen, smacking Alfie’s ass as the young leopard shifter came in, giggling heartily. His brown, tufty hair stuck up all over the place, not unlike when he first got out of bed. Mason’s thoughts instantly went to sexier pursuits and within seconds he had his mate up against the sink, kissing him hungrily.
“Mmmm, that’s what I like to see, two mates hard at it,” Jay teased as he came in from the side entrance, chuckling.
“Help, Mason’s trying to eat me,” Alfie cried out, not looking the least bit concerned.
Mason nipped at his mate’s ear sharply, then nibbled along the succulent cords of his neck, Alfie’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist, his butt perched on the countertop.
“Here, let me help,” Jay said, moving in behind Mason and squeezing the hard globes of Mason’s ass. Mason turned his head to the side, swallowing Jay’s tongue as it slid between his lips, his fingers working at the waistband of Alfie’s pants and fishing out the younger man’s engorged dick.
“That’s not helping,” Alfie panted, groaning, his hips bobbing as Mason began pumping his hard flesh firmly.
“I didn’t say I was going to help you, little leopard,” Jay grinned, reaching around and curling his fingers around Mason’s, helping his mate pleasure Alfie.
“Oh, Christ.” Alfie groaned and came with a yelp, his back arching in ecstasy, his face flushed with pleasure.<
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“Our lover looks so fucking sexy when he comes,” Mason growled, nipping Jay’s lower lip.
Jay grunted agreement, placing his fingers between Mason’s lips and letting him suck off the tasty cream. Sharing their mate’s passion between them, they kissed again, lazily, hands caressing each other, then turned their gaze to Alfie, who watched them with hungry eyes.
They all groaned in dismay when they heard footsteps on the stairs leading to the guest rooms and a strident voice calling out for service.
Unlatching his legs, Alfie patted Mason’s cheek after stuffing his spent cock into his trousers and zipping up, reaching up to kiss him before hopping off the counter. “No way I’m dealing with those fuckers,” he whispered, then wandered into the dining room after grabbing a box of napkins for the tabletops.
Mason rolled his eyes as he heard the irritating voice again, hearing Jay laugh huskily. “You owe me a blowjob,” he said, stepping away from his sexy mate and hearing Jay laugh even louder.
“I’ll blow you anytime you like,” Jay responded and then went into the dining room to harass Alfie.
Mason snorted, then left the kitchen, seeing the same female as before standing in the foyer. He just knew she was going to be a pest about every little thing, and she didn’t disappoint. She was unhappy about having to make her own cup of tea with the utensils provided in her room and wanted Mason to arrange a tray for her room. He declined and explained, politely, that this was a guest house, not a four-star hotel. He suggested, in dulcet tones, that if this didn’t suit her, he would be happy to direct her to the nearest hotel with room service.
“Well,” she sneered, curling her lip as she looked insultingly over the beautiful dark wood of the foyer, the gleaming gold fixtures, and deep red carpet. The place was classy without being overly so. It was inviting, warm, and homey Mason waited for the next demand. “I can see this little backwater is not up to our usual standards. I can imagine you won’t have ever stayed in a decent establishment, so how would you know about what decent folks require.”
Mason let loose a low, deadly snarl, watching her pale, milky blue eyes widen slightly as he showed his long, lethally sharp canines. “This little backwater is perfectly adequate for all the perfectly well-adjusted and decent folk who live here,” he said, stepping into her space menacingly. “Perhaps it’s you who doesn’t understand what being decent means. I’ll be happy to show you.”
She took a wary step back, pale eyes glittering with malice, but smart enough not to antagonize him further. “You’ll pardon me if I decline your kind offer,” she retorted, looking him up and down with a sneer. “I have no intention of staying in this armpit of a town any longer than necessary. I merely want to be reunited with my darling brother, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Oh yes?” Mason asked, biting back a smug smile. Bingo! The bitch was walking right into their trap. “I might be able to help you find your darling brother. What’s his name?”
She eyed him warily, as though suspecting he was being sarcastic, then flipped a long wave of dark hair over her shoulder, shrugging. “His name is Charm. He has some tattoos on his arms, got them a little while ago when he came to see me. He told me he found his mate, wanted help rescuing him. Alas, we were unable to do so, but he’s free now, and I’d just love to meet the darling man.”
Mason caught Jay heading out the back entrance, going to warn John at the café that things were about to go down. He eyed the female in front of him with carefully hidden rage, then heard footsteps on the stairs and looked at the other three young wolverines who made their way into the foyer. Each one looked as though they needed a boot to their asses to wipe the arrogant smirks off their faces.
“I do believe they’re over at our quaint little backwater coffee shop,” Mason advised them, seeing the flash of anger at his sarcasm, delivered with a deadpan expression and a sneer of his own. “I’m sure the darling man would just love to get a load of you four.” He laughed aloud at their furious looks, then they stomped out the front door, leaving him with just the parents to contend with.
* * * *
Jay sauntered to the café, nodding to John and winking at him, seeing his brother’s kick-ass grin. The man even rubbed his hands together gleefully, obviously happy about the upcoming confrontation.
It was four in the afternoon, and the café was full—but not of its usual customers. The town had been warned to stay away, that they had some business to attend to. The four wolverines were sitting center stage with Ethan and Douglas, who wanted to be in on the fun, too. Jay thought the younger man had just a little more of his dad in him than even Cody was comfortable with.
The rest of the café was filled with the Two Spirit crew, with Mason still keeping an eye on the parents back at the inn. Lash and his friends had told them that it was the siblings who would be the ones to start things off. They would suss out who was who, identify the weakest links, then go and report back to their elders. The parents would then come and back their offspring up, attempt to get the four friends to go with them…Jay didn’t want to think about what they might do to their own sons, since they’d already sold them off once.
Joe, Rafe, Murphy, Aiden, Zack, Sky, Marvin, Bryce, Cassidy, and even Jane were in the café. Mick, Thomas, and Cody were on the floor above, with sheriff Pace and Aaron. Also up there were the eight shifters rescued with Ethan, who wanted to identify the wolverines, having been there when things went bad for them. They knew now what had happened to the young wolverine guards, and despite their own awful experience, they were mature enough, forgiving enough, that they wanted to help.
Nobody would wish such a betrayal on the young guards. Selling your own kin, knowing they would die, was abhorrent to everybody. Some of the other refugees the Two Spirit crew had rescued had answered the call to arms. People who were merely acquaintances, who’d come into contact with the wolverines at the ranch, had heard the story and had come into town to assist. Rob Mitchell and Kyle Jenkins, plus Jace Holloway, had all been rescued from the first tunnel network found below Sage. They were healthy and strong and more than capable of sending a bunch of snooty wolverines packing. Even Archie and Lucas, Rafe’s mates, were there.
Jay refrained from rubbing his own hands together, but the feeling was there. He was looking forward to the showdown. Family was precious. Those idiots who claimed to be their wolverines’ family would be taught just how precious.
He stalked forward, pulling a chair toward him and sitting next to Ethan, nudging him with his elbow and grinning at the nervous young man. “Danish?” he asked casually, and received a snort from Lash to his right. “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer a slice of pie? I hear whoop-ass is in season.”
That generated a round of laughter, even the wolverines joining in. Ethan rolled his eyes, but smiled, with Douglas giggling at the sally.
“Was it something I said?” Jay asked, sighing.
Ethan elbowed him back, grinning now. “You’re just like your brother,” he said, laughing.
Jay gave a horrified gasp, clutching at his chest. “Please, that’s just too insulting for words,” he said, giving Ethan a very gentle noogie.
“You’re definitely just like your brother,” he reiterated, laughing as he extricated himself from Jay’s hold.
“I taught him all he knows,” John commented, bragging. “He’d be nothing without me.”
“Brother dearest, I can just imagine how grateful Jay is when he considers what a lucky escape he had—can you imagine just how he would have turned out if you’d grown up together?” Jane said drolly, saluting John with a grin.
The teasing banter ended abruptly when four well-fed and expensively clad shifters entered the café. Two females and two males, stinking of pricey cologne, their noses lifted as though they smelled something rancid.
Jay heard a low growl from Lash and placed his arm around the young shifter in a friendly warning to keep his cool. Had he not done so at that exact moment he would have missed th
e shudder that rippled through the man. It gave Jay added incentive to deal with the family from hell. Lash may be fierce, but he was also scared.
“You have as much backup as you need, brother,” Jay murmured, reaching across Lash to grab a raspberry Danish, then taking a healthy bite. Chewing slowly, Jay glanced casually at the door, shielding Lash with his body. He wasn’t sure which sibling belonged to which, but it didn’t matter. No way was anyone going where they didn’t want to go.
“Charm,” one shrill female screeched, coming over in a cloud of cloying scent, wrapping her arms around the neck of the wolverine with the spiky, red-tipped hairdo. “Darling brother, I’m so glad we found you,” she shrieked, the insincerity in her voice embarrassingly obvious. Charm’s sherry-brown eyes glinted with a flash of fear, replaced by sheer anger.
“Sister,” he said tonelessly, shrugging her off him and taking a sip of his coffee. Her look should have seared him to the spot, but he ignored her completely.
“Lash. Big bro,” one of the men said, striding over confidently in his Gucci shoes, his dark brown hair impeccably cut, his smile as fake as his tan. “Good to see you, my man,” he gushed, offering his hand, which Lash glanced at but didn’t accept. He didn’t bother to reply, either, leaving the man to flush with anger and lower his arm.
“Lash,” came a voice from one of the other tables, breaking into the awkward silence that followed the obvious snub. “I’m so glad I didn’t miss seeing you,” and Zack came over, looking confident and sexy in a perfectly cut Armani suit and shoes, four smart leather files clutched in his slim fingers. “I have the papers you asked me to draw up. This isn’t an inconvenient time, is it?” he asked, giving an overly bright smile aimed at the newcomers.
“No, Zack,” Lash replied and reached for the file. “I just need my brother’s signature, is that right?” he asked, still not looking at the other man who stood with the beginnings of uncertainty on his face.