Grover [Wounded Hearts 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  All of his enforcers were there, all slaughtered, but none of his assets were harmed. Curious, because he’d only just lost two of his best assets, but Eric and Evan couldn’t have pulled this off. He’d watched over his cats for years.

  Like each one of his assets, he monitored their comings and goings and who they interacted with via his crows. Lately though, Jackal had been slack, arrogant enough to assume no one had the guts to stab him in the back.

  While he considered the possibility of two weak tabby shifters outwitting him, he reached Cherry Hill’s main town area and ended up in the park. The humans he passed never gave him a second look, thinking he was some kind of stray dog.

  Unlike Alphas or dominant shifters, Jackal preferred a role behind the scenes. That made big idiots underestimate him, the way that blind jaguar hadn’t realized a jackal could easily slip his guard, but that ugly black cat would soon know who he was dealing with.

  Jackal scented a human couple making love behind a thick grove of trees who’d probably assumed no one could see or find them. Jackal swiped the human male’s clothes with his teeth and took their precious belongings. Finding a hiding spot, Jackal shifted back to human and dressed. He had a cellphone and two wallets with some cash in it. Didn’t matter.

  Once Jackal accessed his bank accounts, he could be back in business. He didn’t even need to get his hands dirty. Money could buy all sorts of things, even supernatural bounty hunters who’d have no trouble drowning a pair of troublesome cats and their new friends.

  The same crow who followed him landed near his feet and changed into human form. “Boss, a lot of my brothers and sisters have deserted you.”

  So why hadn’t you?

  The crow shifter didn’t add anything else, expecting him to answer. The scavengers were loyal enough when Jackal dangled enough cash. Like he told all his assets, money and their loyalty to him was the only things that mattered to him.

  All that, gone—ashes, and it tasted bitter in his tongue. After reeling from his recent loss another emotion began to take its place. Revenge.

  “A minor inconvenience. I always repay my debts, crow, and I have plenty of cash left in the vault. Before I leave town, I need to know who the fuck had the balls to betray me.”

  The crow shifter considered him and nodded. “Benji has interesting news to tell.”

  Benji, he recalled, was in charge of watching Eric. Another crow flew into the clearing and shifted to human. “Your Eric has become intimate with a dominant jaguar shifter and the big cat has interesting friends.”

  A chill went down his spine. After all he’d done, those stray cats would betray him? For years, Jackal bid his time. He’d wanted to make Eric and Evan his special and adored pets. Such pretty things, but like wine, he wanted to wait until they’d matured a little. In the end, they’d betrayed him, and he wasn’t known for his mercy.

  “Why interesting?” he forced himself to ask, voice harsh.

  “Ex-military, I think.”

  Without realizing it, he had both hands around Benji’s neck. Eyes narrowed, he demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

  Benji squawked but the other crow shifter answered him. “You haven’t exactly listened to our reports of late, boss. Release Benji or we’ll withdraw our help.”

  Gritting his teeth, he let go of the crow. These scavengers gave him orders now? Once, these misfits would do anything for scraps. They’d turned cocky, too, just like the two little cats he’d adopted, fed, and took care of. Hell, out of the kindness of his heart, he even taught Eric his best skills.

  This was how they all repaid him?

  “Tell me all about Eric’s new pals,” he said, voice smooth and calm.

  Inside Jackal though was a storm waiting to break free. A plan began to form in his head as Benji told him all he could. Crows were handy. They didn’t have the same aura other shifters did, basically enabling them to hide in plain sight. He needed these crows, but his cats?

  They were good as dead.

  Jackal rubbed his hands in anticipation, already imagining the life leaking out of Eric’s eyes. Before that though, he was going to work on little Evan and make Eric watch. Finally, Jackal was going to get that threesome he’d always fantasied about. This was simply going to be a more violent version only he’d get immense pleasure from.

  “That’s all I know but we can find out more,” Benji said.

  If you provide enough compensation, was Benji’s unsaid message.

  Well, he didn’t mind.

  “Then after this, I want you and your remaining friends to start scouting all over town for my two cats. I’ll pay you double.”

  For this little act of betrayal, Jackal was going to get his hands dirty. He wanted to be the last face Eric and Evan would see before he strangled the life out of his stray cats.

  * * * *

  Noticing Dusty looking at his phone, Eric asked, “Good or bad news?”

  His nerves were frayed. They were still in the living room. Empty pizza boxes were piled on the coffee table. Both Brownie and Pancake rested on their paws, eyes glued on the TV like his brother, but he knew Evan was listening.

  “Good. Mike just texted me that Abram and Grover went to deal with Jackal and his enforcers on the second floor. Shit, I need to charge my phone.” Dusty disappeared into his room and returned.

  Evan and he traded looks.

  “Will they be okay?” Evan asked.

  He nodded. “They’re tough.”

  Dusty returned, yawning. Clearly his faith in his former unit mates was solid. The worry must have reflected on their faces because he grinned. “Come on, lighten up. Grover and the others would be back before you know it. Waiting just sucks, right?”

  He nodded, stomach feeling queasy. Eric tried to focus on the TV, but the show was merely a distraction. Could it really be so easy? That Grover would arrive with good news and Eric and his brother could finally leave behind their old lives forever?

  “Evan,” he whispered. “What do you want to do after…this?”

  “You’d move in with Grover, right?” Evan asked, giving him a side-long glance.

  “We’re staying together, until you turn eighteen at least, and you can decide what you want. Grover and I talked about it. We’re getting a bigger apartment and you’ll get your own room.”

  Evan hesitated. “Won’t I be a bother?”

  He shook his head. “You’re family, blood.”

  “Your jaguar mate wouldn’t mind?”

  “He’s the one who suggested it.”

  Evan looked thoughtful. “I think I want to go back to school.”

  Their education had been haphazard at best, interrupted when the foster system decided to separate them and they’d decided to run away instead.

  “Me, too, I think,” he said. “We’ll find an honest way of living.”

  “You guys are mature for your age,” Dusty commented. He blushed, realizing he’d forgotten the leopard shifter was still in the room. “It’s a good thing though. Me and a few of the others grew up in the system, too, so I know what it’s like, feeling lost. Eric, you have Grover though, and us, in case you need advice.”

  Eric nodded, thankful. There was so much in life he and Evan had missed out on, but they were still young, still had every chance to make up for those losses. “Did Mike send an update?”

  Dusty rolled his eyes, but the leopard shifter was clearly amused by his anxiety.

  “I’ll go check my phone. Stay right—” Dusty rose from his seat, his eyes widening in alarm. Then the leopard shifter collapsed on the floor, a wicked-looking dart sticking out of his neck.

  “Evan, get down,” he shouted as he tackled his brother to the ground. Another dart flew through the open window in the living room, seeking targets. Brownie rose on all four paws, snarling and shielding them as another buried itself into her side. The German Shepard let out a whine before falling unconscious, eyes rolling in her sockets.

  A caw came from th
e window sill and he noticed the crow there, watching them.

  “Eric,” Dusty rasped from the ground, but the big man wasn’t moving. “Run. Contact the others.”

  He hesitated a second. “I can’t leave you here!”

  “I’ll be fine. It’s a paralyzing agent but it’ll wear off. I’ll catch up. Whoever it is, they want you two.”

  He nodded and grabbed his brother’s hand.

  “B-but, Dusty—” Eric blurted but dragged his brother to the front door with Pancake on their heels.

  It pained him to leave Dusty behind, but Dusty was right. Once those darts found their way to either Evan or him, they were good as dead. The enemy could move in and take them captive before Dusty and the others could recover. He yanked his brother into the elevator. Pancake knew something was up because the Golden Retriever was silent and vigilant, craning his head left and right.

  “Why are the crows still following Jackal’s orders if he’s dead?” Evan asked, eyes full of fear.

  He fumbled for his phone and cursed, realizing he’d left it back at Dusty’s place. Eric couldn’t go back for it now. He’d find another way to contact Grover. Realizing he had another connection to his mate, he brushed his hand over the mate mark.

  Jesus. Eric didn’t know what the hell he was doing, but he tried to reach Grover via the metaphysical thread connecting their two animals, their souls. A faint echo of Grover’s savage jaguar came from the other side. His mate was on his way, he knew. All they had to do was stall their pursuer.

  Eric focused on his brother’s words. Jackal assured the loyalty of his spies and enforcers through cash. They would have abandoned him if the money stopped flowing, which meant—

  “Jackal’s not dead,” he whispered. “He must have slipped away during the attack.”

  It would be like their former boss to do that, abandon ship while it sunk.

  “Brother, who are we up against? Jackal and his enforcers, along with his crows?” Evan asked.

  “Hopefully, just Jackal and a few crow shifters, and crows aren’t fighters.”

  “You don’t sound certain.”

  He wasn’t. Eric had seen the crow shifters in Sanctuary in crow form most of the time. The elevator reached the first floor.

  “What if Jackal’s watching across the street? The dart must have been fired from the opposite building.”

  Eric hesitated, then grabbed Pancake’s collar because he’d begun to head for the doors. He knelt in front of the dog and rubbed Pancake’s ears. “You’re just a puppy. Stay here, you understand? In case Grover comes here, you lead him back to Dusty, okay?”

  He wasn’t sure the Golden Retriever understood, but when he pointed to the floor, the dog sat.

  “Stay,” he repeated, then turned to his brother. “We’ll use the back exit, then shift into tabby cats. That way, we’ll be smaller, harder to track.”

  Evan was white with fear, but he knew his brother would follow his lead. Eric only hoped Grover and his friends would arrive in time before Jackal caught up to them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Grover felt a tug on the other end of his mate bond the moment Abram turned the car onto Dusty’s street. He bared his teeth, eager to get out of the tiny space of the vehicle. That was definitely a signal Eric was in trouble. Had Jackal gotten to his little cat? He refused to believe he was too late. Abram stopped the car and shoved the door open for him to get out.

  Grover didn’t wait for his former commander. A familiar bark drew him inside the apartment building. The sight of him scared off a couple of teenagers. Good. He didn’t think he could deal with people now. Pancake tensed, seeing a huge jaguar, but he curiously sniffed at Grover and wagged his tail. Good dog.

  “What’s Pancake doing here?” Abram asked, right behind him.

  He wanted to know the answer to that question, too. Pancake padded to the elevator, then toward the corridor leading to the first-floor units and the emergency exit, Grover realized. He sniffed, catching Eric’s scent and Evan’s. That gave him hope.

  “I’ll check upstairs,” Abram told him.

  He answered with a hiss and padded toward the emergency exit. Eric’s scent grew stronger here, so he picked up speed, the frayed carpeting underneath his paws turning into concrete. A moment later, his paws got tangled up in discarded clothing. Clever mate. Eric and Evan must have shifted to cat form to make it harder for Jackal.

  Air hit his face a second later, the back door unlocked. The scents of garbage and piss mingled with those of Evan and Eric’s, but before losing his sight, he’d been the best tracker in the paranormal special ops. In fact, being unable to see heightened his sense of smell even further.

  Grover padded the alleyway, hit a dead end, but nosed his way to a hole in the fence, small enough for two slender young men to fit in and a persistent jaguar. He jumped through the hole, then heard voices far off, arguing, followed by a scream. Evan. If Evan was back to human form, Jackal or his crows must have found them.

  He broke into a run, following the source of Evan’s scream. A couple of seconds later, he sensed a fast-moving projectile moving toward his face. He turned his muzzle a little, only to feel sharp, tiny talons scratching at his face, followed by a screech. Not a projectile, but a living thing, a crow shifter, he realized.

  Damn. He thought all of the people under Jackal’s payroll had abandoned the bastard. So that was how Jackal had gotten to Eric and Evan so quickly. Annoyed, he swiped the crow away with his paw but another swept down on him. With a snarl, he slammed his body against the nearest wall, satisfied by the shocked squawks.

  “Get in before I shoot you in the head,” a cold voice said.

  “Go to hell asshole,” came Eric’s voice.

  He was so close. Grover pushed his paw muscles to the limits. He could smell gasoline and burnt tires, a getaway car? Like hell he was going to let Jackal steal his mate away.

  A gun fired startlingly close, but he heard the bullet scraping brick, followed by the sound of bodies tangling and breaths hitching. A fight.

  “Grover!” Evan cried out, his voice muffled. Gagged? “They’re fighting a couple of feet to your left, hurry, please. Jackal still has the gun.”

  Grover leapt in front of the gun. He’d memorized his mate’s scent a long time ago, so he knew it was Eric’s body he slammed into. Grover pushed his mate to the side. Eric gave a surprised yelp. The man underneath him began to turn furry, but Grover wasn’t going to let Jackal slip away a second time.

  They tangled, a blur of claws and teeth. Jackal was surprisingly a capable fighter, agile despite his size, but Grover had spent years fighting in a war and knew all about the dirty tactics a potential enemy could employ.

  He let Jackal think he had the upper hand, letting Jackal bury his claws into his side. Somewhere nearby, Eric cried out. Grover snarled and once he felt Jackal’s hot breath near his muzzle, he reacted, clamping his canines over Jackal’s throat.

  Jackal fought him, tore claws into his black fur, but to no avail. Grover was bigger, meaner, and in the end, Jackal stopped resisting. Grover listened for the sounds of Jackal’s heart to make sure the fiend wouldn’t escape him again. Blessed silence. He released the corpse. At Jackal’s death, he heard the flare of wings, the crows scattering to God knew where now that their employer was dead.

  He began to turn to check if Eric and Evan were hurt, only to hear rushing footsteps, then Eric kneeling, wrapping his arms around his neck so tight, he couldn’t breathe for a couple of seconds. He let out a hiss and Eric loosened his embrace.

  “Sorry,” Eric murmured and began stroking his fur. That was all right with his jaguar. This was their mate and Eric deserved to pet him for being brave. “God, for a second there, I thought Jackal had you.”

  He wrinkled his whiskers at that. A jackal stood zero chances against his jaguar. Footsteps neared them but he knew it was Abram and Dusty.

  “Looks like we missed the fight,” Abram said.

  “Grove, I’m so
rry. The bastard shot me with a paralyzing dart,” Dusty began.

  “Dusty told us to run,” Eric explained.

  “Here are your clothes,” Abram said. “Dusty, go check on Evan. Don’t worry, Eric. Dusty knows basic first aid.”

  Grover sniffed the air, but didn’t smell any blood from Evan. His mate parted from him for a few seconds and started dressing.

  “He’s bruised but relatively uninjured,” Dusty reported. “Good job, kid.”

  “I’m not a kid,” Evan pointed out.

  Grover would have smiled if he were in human form. If Evan could joke, then Eric’s little brother would be all right.

  “What about the…body?” Eric asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. We have numerous contacts. I’ll get a clean-up crew here right away. Besides, the local authorities here know our group employs our own kind of justice,” Abram explained.

  “Brother, I’ll stay with Dusty. He says he wants to check over my injuries again,” Evan said, which left Grover plenty of time with his mate.

  He pawed at Eric’s jeans, careful to keep his claws sheathed. Grover was pleased when Eric rubbed at his ears. It would definitely be heaven if they could spend all day petting and playing with each other. He shouldn’t spoil his mate too much, but Eric needed to relax after the day’s tumultuous events.

  “Can we go home now?” Eric asked in a soft, hesitant voice.

  Grover only licked Eric’s hand in reassurance. Maybe Eric thought he was still mad. Part of him still was when Eric debated about skipping town with his brother, but things were different now. They were mates for life. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and neither was Eric. Home was a word that didn’t exist in his dictionary.

  He’d moved houses so many times during his youth, from one foster family to the next. The army had become his new family, but when he was no longer needed, he’d felt lost. Meeting Eric had given him new direction.

  Eric was his new home.

  * * * *

  “Okay, call me for anything, and I might not be able to see you, but I know you’re rolling your eyes right now,” Eric was saying on the phone.