Flyers Fuzzbutts and Fisticuffs

by Jools Louise

  Dorothy leapt forward, as well, kicked the gun away as D’Arcy fought desperately for air, then kicked him in the head.

  “Keep him alive a minute longer,” Cullen said. “We don’t know where his accomplices are.”

  “Right here,” Rafe called from the other side of the barn, dragging two hapless hunters with him by their feet. Behind him, Sky, Bryce, and Marvin, African hunting dog shifters, escorted their own captives.

  Archie and Lucas took the rear, in their animal forms, nipping at the heels of two more hunters.

  “Where’s Petrovsky?” Cullen asked D’Arcy. “Irina, sweetie, he can’t answer if he can’t breathe. Ease up a little until we have our answers…then you can tear him limb from limb if you want. I doubt anyone in England wants him back.”

  “Kill…me…I won’t…tell you…anything…” D’Arcy gasped out.

  “Okay,” Cullen agreed, nodding to Irina. “Kill the fucker.”

  A shot rang out, and D’Arcy slumped to the ground.

  Cullen whirled and saw Arthur standing there, naked and trembling, his eyes wild, the pistol that D’Arcy had been carrying in his small fist.

  “Darling, put the gun down,” Dorothy murmured, sounding distraught. “Please, baby.”

  He looked at her, tears in his blue eyes. “He was going to hurt us again,” he said, gulping. “I didn’t want him to hurt us again,” he repeated.

  Dorothy rushed forward, enfolding her son in her arms, crying openly as she held him. “Oh, darling boy. Come on away from here. Let’s go get you some clothes, hmmm? It’s too cold to be out here.”

  “Hot chocolate.” Cullen smiled, meeting Arthur’s tearful gaze over his mother’s shoulder. The boy was in shock. “Good job, Arthur,” he said, kneeling beside the boy and ruffling his hair gently. “Let us take care of the rest, hmmm? You go into the house with your mom.”

  “Where’s Aaron?” Joe asked, running up.

  “They took off a while ago on horseback,” Dorothy said. “Said something was going on at the school.”

  “Yeah, Maizie was taking care of that. Her, Aiden, Shiloh, her son, and Rowena,” Cullen said.

  “Oh, god,” Joe groaned. “The school will be in bits.”

  Cullen heard his mates groan, as well, and ran to them. “Hey, guys. I booked you a room at the hospital again,” he said, smiling tearfully when Louis opened his eyes. “This is becoming a habit.”

  “Fucking hell,” Louis replied hoarsely. “What’s with everyone wanting to shoot bears?”

  Cullen laughed and kissed his lover tenderly. “Might need a bigger ambulance to get you into town,” he said.

  “Nah!” Louis said, shifting to bear form. Rising, he snuffled at Doyle, licking his face.

  “Ugh! Bear slobber,” Doyle said after a few seconds. “Dammit! Someone shot me. Twice.”

  “Yeah, and now they’re dead,” Cullen drawled, pointing to D’Arcy’s corpse.

  “Thank god,” Doyle muttered. “Can someone get me medical attention, please? Being shot hurts like fuck.”

  * * * *

  Maizie heard a shot fired, on her way to meet her son, Shiloh, at the middle school. She exchanged a glance with Rowena, and they both hurried toward the building. From this distance, it was unclear who was in trouble, but then Aiden came running around the side of the building, looking feral.

  Shifting, Maizie lumbered forward as Aiden pointed to the break room and showed several fingers. Meaning multiple shooters. Well, let them shoot my fat ass, Maizie thought, charging into the building. It was a tight squeeze. Regular doors were not meant for elephants. Trumpeting loudly, she pried her big body into the break room, spying a bunch of morons clad in black, trying to look tough in their balaclavas and combat clothing. Poor dears.

  Swinging her trunk, Maizie took out two idiots easily, sending them flying through the window. With the counter-swing, she got rid of a third and fourth, lifting a fifth with her trunk and bashing him up into the ceiling tiles until he was unconscious.

  Two shots pinged into her backside, and she winced, whirling on the shooter angrily. She spied Jayne lying on the ground, pale and lifeless, with far too much blood beneath her. That was not good.

  Aiden barreled in behind Rowena, who was taking care of the rest of the hunters. He ushered the children outside, dodging trunks and elephant butts until the room was clear, urging Shiloh, who had just joined them to take charge of the kids.

  “Jayne!” he yelled, rushing back in, and went immediately to tend to her as Maizie wrapped her trunk around the shooter, squeezing the life out of him.

  The last man standing cowered in the corner, his eyes terrified behind his mask. Maizie lifted him, shaking him vigorously, then dropped him. Delicately she peeled back the mask, snorting disdainfully as she viewed his soft features, his complexion flushed with an unhealthy pallor, his expression showing a weakness that left Maizie disgusted at him.

  “Please, do not hurt me,” he cried, scrambling to his knees.

  “She stopped breathing,” Aiden said grimly. “I need a medevac. Quickly.”

  Rowena shifted and ran for the phone, calling the clinic as Aiden rendered first aid. He looked at the hunters, rage burning in his eyes, then pinned his silver stare on the last one. “Who are you? What the fuck did you shoot her for?” he asked viciously.

  “I did not intend to hurt her, but she attacked me,” he said.

  “Liar!” Blue shouted, running into the classroom, with Murray close behind. “You shot her when she ran to help us. You said you would kill anyone who got in your way.”

  “Yeah,” Murray agreed, baring his tiny fangs. “You said you were holding us hostage because you wanted the Arctic Wolf to come here, so you could kill him. You shot our teacher the second she came in here.”

  “I asked you a question,” Aiden said. “Don’t make me ask again.”

  He gestured to Maizie, who lifted the man again, by his throat, then flung him across the room. He landed with a crash against the bookcase and cried out in pain as it broke under his weight.

  “I’m Ralph Moriakovsky,” the man shouted fearfully when Maizie advanced on him again.

  “Never heard of you,” Aiden snarled. “Why attack a bunch of kids?”

  “He’s lacking a backbone,” Rowena said dryly, hanging up the phone. She seemed unconcerned about being naked and curled her lip at the cowardly thug who looked as though he was about to cry.

  “Is Jayne okay?” Blue asked worriedly. “We wanted to help, but that man pointed a gun at us.”

  Aiden snarled again, baring his fangs, but didn’t pause in his attempts to resuscitate Jayne. “You held a gun on these children? On my son?” he asked in a dangerously quiet voice.

  “Where are Josh and Jemima?” Aiden asked the boys.

  “Swimming still, I think,” Blue replied. “They have classes this morning.”

  “Call the sports center,” Aiden advised Rowena. “Find out where the little ones are.”

  Rowena nodded and picked up the phone again.

  “Daddy? Is Jayne dead?” Blue asked fearfully, staring at all the blood. The wound in her chest didn’t look too big, but there was so much blood.

  Aiden looked up, his eyes stark with grief, and nodded briefly. “The bullet did a lot of damage, a direct hit to the heart,” he said hoarsely.

  The boys began to cry. “Why are people so mean?” Murray said, holding on to his friend. “Why don’t they leave us alone? We don’t even know this man, and he’s killed our teacher? What are Josh and Jem gonna do without a mommy?”

  “I called Sheriff Pace, too,” Rowena said softly, walking toward the children. “Come on, let’s get you out of here and me into some clothes.”

  Maizie met Aiden’s gaze, and read death there. Turning her back, she left the classroom slowly, following her friend outside, and stood stoically when the first screams sounded. Ralph Moriakovsky had just signed his own death warrant.

  * * * *

  “Fuck,” Nikolai Pe
trovsky snarled under his breath. He watched from the sidelines as his plan to get Irina back ended abruptly. He should have known D’Arcy would screw things up. Arrogance was his downfall, along with underestimating his enemy. Did the idiot not know who these people were? Shifters, half-animal freaks, but they were smart. And had animal senses to aid them. What kind of a moron didn’t know the kinds of predators living on this ranch?

  Perhaps all was not lost, though. There was still the girl.

  Keeping low, Nikolai became his alter ego, Shadow, and melted into the surrounding vegetation, leaving the ranch compound. He was human, but could still outwit a bunch of freaks. He’d kill the girl, and perhaps John’s partner, then head home. No sense remaining here. He had another enemy to deal with. He cursed again, but decided against trying to get to Irina now. D’Arcy had put paid to that plan. Fucking amateurs. That’s who he had employed. Poetic justice that Martin D’Arcy had been killed by one of his pets.

  * * * *

  John watched as Nikolai edged toward his cottage, skillfully using every bit of cover to get closer. The man was letting his anger dictate his actions. Otherwise, he must know that his plans had been scuppered.

  Suddenly Nikolai froze, glancing around as though he felt himself under scrutiny. John curled his lip. The fucker thought he was better than John Hastings? Shadow? Please. John heard him coming minutes ago. Making more noise than Maizie on the rampage. The idiot hadn’t even thought to look up. Tensing, John prepared to pounce, then froze himself when Nikolai reached into his jacket pocket, retrieving a grenade. Running forward, he kicked in the front door, lobbed the missile, then ran backward again into the trees. The explosion rocked the tree John was crouched in, sending a shower of fresh snow onto his head. He didn’t move a muscle, intent on his prey.

  Nikolai cursed. “Fuck! Bastard’s managed to escape.”

  Crawling stealthily, John got ready to leap, then snarled silently when he saw Freddy wheeling overhead. Nikolai glanced upward, grabbed a pistol from his coat, then fired two shots. Screeching in fury, Freddy stooped, not flinching as Nikolai tried to fire again, only his gun jammed. Freddy reached him before he took two steps, lifting him from the ground, his talons digging deep.

  John jumped from his perch, tail swishing, and chuffed at Freddy to release the murderous twat. Freddy screeched again and dropped his victim, who plummeted twenty feet to the ground, landing with a sickening thud. Deep wounds oozed blood from where Freddy had gripped him with vicious force.

  “Are you okay? I thought he’d killed everyone,” Freddy cried as he landed, shifting immediately, looking terrified.

  “I’m not exactly an amateur,” John chided gently, reverting to human form, glancing coldly at the unconscious man on the ground. “I made sure my family was okay. I knew this prat would be back. He’s predictable.”

  Freddy shuddered, then smiled. “And a crap shot. He missed me.”

  “Yeah, don’t know how that happened. Your ass was a big enough target,” John drawled, smirking.

  “John!” Cameron came running, looking terrified, his eyes gleaming with tears.

  “Hey,” John said, cuddling his mate. “It’s okay, love.”

  “No, it isn’t,” Cameron replied, sniffing, then he began to sob. “It’s Jayne,” he cried. “She was shot. At the school. Ralph Moriakovsky wanted the Arctic Wolf, and went to the elementary school, planning to take the kids hostage. He shot Jayne, and probably would have done more, but Maizie was there, and Aiden, and they took Moriakovsky down, along with his hunters. Jayne isn’t…she stopped breathing,” Cameron burst out. “Aiden said…”

  John was off and running, shifting for speed, racing across the frozen ground toward the school. He’d been at the school. Had seen Maizie and Aiden going into the building. He had thought she would be okay. Never imagined…fuck!

  Chapter Nine

  Two weeks later

  Cullen cuddled with his bears, propped up in the big bed in his apartment, feeding them ice cream and kisses. He knew there were things to be done, people to check on, but right now he needed to be with his lovers. His mates. Nothing else mattered for today. He’d lost too many people, friends and family members. And he’d come so close to losing these two gorgeous men.

  “Hmmm, that’s good,” Doyle said, slurping up a spoonful of B & J’s Cookie Dough confection. Cullen smiled, leaning in and kissing his lover, sharing the icy treat from his lover’s mouth.

  “Me next,” Louis protested, stroking Cullen’s back gently. “Although, in that position, I’m thinking we need to heat things up a bit.”

  Cullen groaned when the big bear licked a trail along Cullen’s spine, then parted his cheeks and lapped at his crease.

  “Here, baby, sit on this,” Doyle told him, lifting him so he lay sprawled along Doyle’s hairy body. They kissed again, hungry, their cocks thickening with anticipation.

  Cullen yelped as a cold dollop of ice cream landed on his ass, then moaned softly, feeling the scorching touch of Louis’s tongue lapping up the mess, ensuring none was missed, paying particular attention to his hole. He lifted his butt enticingly and groaned again when Louis accepted the invitation, parting his cheeks then delving between, probing delicately at Cullen’s needy rosebud.

  “So gorgeous,” Doyle grunted approvingly. “You’re everything,” he whispered.

  “I nearly lost you,” Cullen whimpered, clutching at his hairy bear, writhing against him urgently, peppering kisses over his lover’s whiskered jaw. “Don’t run off like that again. Please. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of you.”

  “I won’t, baby,” Doyle promised. “I just…it was too much. Seeing the coffin, and the grave. Who would do that to someone like Humdrum?”

  After the events of the day, Cullen had almost forgotten the reason that Doyle had been in danger. He promised himself he would find out what happened to Humdrum. So far, there was no conclusive evidence, except that he had been strangled, probably hanged, but the location was unknown. Someone, somewhere must know something. Cullen kept returning to a possible suicide, but why? Humdrum had been hopeful and looking to the future. That didn’t seem the state of mind of someone wanting to die. Humdrum would want to stay around to help Mystery and their friends, Chill and Bone.

  A slick finger sank knuckle-deep into his butt, and he forgot about everything else but making love to his mates. Arching his back, he closed his eyes, enjoying the burn as his ass stretched to accommodate Louis’s thick digit, then yelped a little when a second joined the first. Louis was not a small man. Anywhere.

  “There we go, sweetness,” Louis murmured. “Doyle, why don’t you get ready, honey. I want us to go off together. With Cullen balls-deep in your ass, while I fuck you both.”

  Cullen whimpered, licking his lips as he heard the snick of a tube of lube opening, then the slick smear of gel along his crease. Doyle lifted his legs, widening his stance, and grabbed the lube, then shoved two fingers inside his own hole, groaning as he stretched himself. Cullen knelt between his thick thighs, mesmerized by the display. He nibbled a path along Doyle’s thigh, then leaned down, sampling his huge cock. A moment later he cried out as a thick prong speared his ass, taking his breath away.

  “Oh my,” he growled, shoving back against his lover, urging him deeper.

  “So fucking tight,” Louis muttered, wrapping his thick forearm around Cullen’s chest and dragging him backward, thrusting with short, shallow little fucks, until he was fully impaled. Cullen turned his head, mouth open, begging for a kiss, and found himself ravaged by a hungry bear. Fucking upward, Louis drove Cullen insane, hitting his gland with each stroke.

  “Louis!” Cullen whined, bouncing with each hard thrust. His ass was on fire, stretched to the max, and he loved it all. Pain became pleasure, the burning replaced by scorching ecstasy.

  “Me, too,” Doyle said, breathing hard as he watched the sex show.

  Louis held on to Cullen, an arm around his waist, and positioned him, s
till embedded. Kneeling between Doyle’s legs, parked at the man’s stretched entrance, Cullen gasped as Louis thrust hard, shoving Cullen forward, forcing him two inches inside Doyle’s slick chute. A second thrust, which Cullen helped along with a snap of his hips, and he was halfway there.

  “Here’s the clincher,” Louis chuckled hoarsely, and delivered the hat trick, driving Cullen into the hilt. On hands and knees, his butt speared by Louis’s cock, his own deep inside Doyle, Cullen knew he’d found heaven. He was surrounded by heat, his back blanketed by Louis’s warmth, and his dick enveloped within Doyle’s snug walls.

  “I love you,” Cullen whispered, turning his head again to kiss Louis, who gave a low growl and took Cullen’s lips with a tenderness that shook Cullen to the core.

  “I love you, too, little fox,” Louis murmured, kissing him again and again as he began to move his hips, making love to both men, his thrusts slow and deep as he and Cullen and Doyle danced together.

  Cullen dipped lower, taking Doyle’s mouth hungrily, hearing the man’s low sob as they kissed. “I love you,” he said, stroking Doyle’s cock gently. “So much. I didn’t realize, until I thought I’d lost you, that I’d destroy heaven and hell to keep you with me.”

  “Aah, darling, I love you, too,” Doyle replied softly, cupping Cullen’s head as he responded with fervent passion, driving Cullen closer to the edge of reason.

  The trio found their rhythm, upping the tempo, their harsh breathing and soft cries blending together harmoniously, gathering speed and strength until reason shattered and they tumbled together, fangs biting deep, marking each other with warm cream, claiming each other fully.

  Collapsing against Doyle, Cullen tried to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he finally stopped spurting, every bit of energy leaving him in a rush. Louis turned them both to the side, and spooned from behind, his huge arms around both Cullen and Doyle, cradling them lovingly. Doyle, still impaled by Cullen’s cock, smiled sleepily, and winced as he fingered his wounded shoulder.