Two Spirit Tournament [Spirit of Sage 8] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour ManLove)

by Jools Louise

  “Ghost,” he called, then clenched his jaw as the man turned his limpid blue gaze to him. He wanted to wipe the fucking smirk off the man’s face. “Care to explain this?” he asked, throwing the note at the man’s chest. He saw the gleam of amusement before Ghost could stop himself. “Going after little kids now, are you? You and my darling daddy, too fucking scared to take on a real man, so you have to terrorize little children?” He saw the amusement darken to rage at his mocking tone and continued to push the button. “Big bad soldier boy, injured in battle, acting like his shit is better than everyone else’s, holding a grudge because he got hurt,” he continued sarcastically, hearing a couple of shocked gasps from those around him. “How many more notes did you hand to Flint, huh? You and Daniel are fucking losers, aren’t you? You don’t know how to fight a real battle, with a real man, so you go around hurting women and children who can’t fight back.”

  Ghost gave a mocking laugh and powered forward in his chair. He knocked against Kaden’s knees, the metal guard around the frame bashing against him painfully. “So the little runt gave up the goods, huh?” he said with a wide grin, his eyes glittering with malice. “What are you going to do, freak? Tear me apart? Go all furry on me? Or maybe you’ll do like those other little bastards do and simply cry?”

  Kaden grinned back, baring his fangs. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asked, holding back the right hook that he wanted to slam into the man’s face. “Is that what someone did to you? Did they turn all scary and alarm poor little Ghost?”

  Ghost’s face contorted as he lost his temper, Kaden’s goading words lighting the spark. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? You shifters make me sick. Taking over this whole planet like you own it. You’re all freaks, the lot of you. What kind of sickness is it that turns people into animals? That isn’t natural. Animals are there to hunt and eat; they’re not meant to mix with real people.” Ghost’s face turned redder and redder, and he kept shoving against Kaden with his chair, ramming him over and over, trying to goad Kaden into reacting. “Where I come from, anything that walks on four legs and has fur is a legitimate hunting target.”

  “You know something, Ghost,” Kaden said softly, his tone in contrast to Ghost’s strident shrieks, the man’s control waning with each word he spoke. “Cullen loved you. I spoke to him before I came over here. He’s doing fine, by the way, no thanks to you. He’s your mate, which is one of the most magical things on this planet, something that an idiot like you chose to trample all over, just like you trampled over him. Somewhere, maybe a long time ago, I think you probably used to be okay. But to have your own mate beaten up and tortured, then have those bastards from Flashpoint hunt him down with their dogs isn’t something that we shifters would ever do to another shifter. Or a human, for that matter. You’re the fucking freak for thinking you’re better than we are. We’ve existed since the dinosaurs first roamed this earth, since mankind first lived in their caves and lived in perfect sync with their environment. You bastard humans are the ones who’ve destroyed everything, tainting this world with your malice and hatred and stupidity. You’re not a cripple because you’re in a wheelchair, Ghost. You’re a cripple because you choose to hate everything that you don’t understand.”

  Kaden got right in Ghost’s face, staring him down fiercely, daring him to attack again. The man stared back angrily, powerful muscles rippling in his arms as he gripped the sides of his chair. A split second later he struck, the steel blade of a knife flashing as it sliced across Kaden’s ribs. Reeling back just in time, Kaden smiled grimly, pleased that he’d gotten this reaction so soon. The knife barely grazed him. He’d wanted Ghost to show his true colors, wanted the others to see what he’d seen. The monster behind the smile.

  John and Cody let out twin snarls of fury and grabbed Ghost’s chair, already having unstrapped themselves from the wheelchairs they’d been using. Around the sides of the hall, a bunch of disabled men and women sat watching the proceedings with interest, looking a little shell-shocked.

  “Er, sir, I hope this won’t stop the tournament,” one of the women said hesitantly. “We certainly don’t have the same views as this idiot.”

  Kaden looked over and grinned at the group. “Ma’am, have you met Alfie by any chance?” he asked incredulously. “That man would have my ass kicked out of town if there was even a hint that this tournament was finished.”

  The group all laughed at that, nodding. “You got that right,” another female said, chuckling. “Alfie’s fabulous and has so much energy. This tournament wouldn’t be half of what it is without him.”

  “And he’s all mine,” Jay, one of Alfie’s mates, said proudly as he walked into the hall. The sheriff was with him, as well as Skull, the deputy sheriff, looking grimly at Ghost. “Is this the douche who’s helping to terrify little kids?”

  “Yeah,” Kaden replied, retrieving the crumpled missive from the floor and handing it over. “My prints are on it, as are David’s and Flint’s. The poor kid was terrified that his dad was going to hurt little Moe.”

  “Is that so?” Pace asked with a hard glint in his eye. “Then you’ll be glad to know that we found several other notes he gave to Flint, who was more than happy to hand them all over once we spoke to him.” He grinned suddenly and stared right at Ghost. “You may not be so happy to know that your efforts to corrupt Geoff just went to shit. He said that it was your mistake that got his buddies killed, because they were all shifters. He told us he’d never had a problem with shifters until after he came out of the military, and then all of a sudden, his family was murdered. He seemed to think it was because he had made friends with shifters. When I did some checking, I found out all sorts of interesting things about your history, Ghost.” He leaned closer, gripping the arms of the man’s chair. “Something about people turning up dead when you’re around. Ex-comrades, former childhood friends, and children of those friends.”

  Ghost snarled right back, impressively so since he was human and had no feline DNA. Kaden knew that Lex had made sure of that by having Jace, another shifter who lived at the ranch, pay them a visit, backed up by the intuitive powers of all the kids, who had the same ability to identify shifters in an instant. The rest of them had to play a guessing game.

  “They deserved what they got,” he said. “They were friends of freaks like you.”

  “You murdered your own friends? Buddies you served with?” one of the ex-servicemen asked, sounding shocked. “What kind of a monster are you? What did they do to you?”

  Ghost smirked at him, almost preening, as though he were being praised rather than reviled. “I’m the kind who takes care of freaks of nature, wherever they may be,” he said and laughed, sounding disturbingly happy about his boast.

  “It just so happens that I have the perfect place for you,” Pace cut in, smirking, as well, when Ghost’s eyes shuttered warily. “There’s this little prison, upstate, where I think you’ll find the perfect match for your kind of thinking. Just think—you’ll be able to write notes to each other all day long.”

  “You’re putting him in with Daniel?” Kaden asked, then began to laugh. Oh, that was good. He wasn’t sure if Ghost knew Daniel was a shifter, but having the pair share jail time was just perfect.

  “They’ll never put me in prison,” Ghost said smugly, sitting back in his chair and pointing to his lack of legs.

  “Oh, but they will,” Pace replied, nodding sagely. “You see, once you’ve been interviewed officially, since you’ve made such a lovely admission of guilt in front of all these people here, half of whom are humans who have been wounded in battle, we’ll make sure you share the rest of your miserable life with the one you’ve been passing notes for. Daniel Steadman will be looking forward to finding out just how much you love shifters.”

  “We’ll take him now,” Skull said, looking mighty fine in his new uniform. Kaden had been surprised when the man had signed on as a deputy sheriff, but seeing his mate in his finery made it all worthwhi
le. He was looking forward to checking out Skull’s pistol later.

  “Bye-bye, now,” Kaden mocked Ghost as he was transferred to a second chair to lessen the chance that he might have any further weapons. He waved as the entourage departed, and sighed with relief.

  “You don’t think that was a little too easy?” John asked, staring after the killer.

  “Yes,” Kaden replied, meeting John’s gaze. “I think Flashpoint is just getting started. Ghost was too clever for his own good and underestimated Cullen’s tenacity and grit. The man is devastated that Ghost turned out so bad. He’s hurting right now. I still think there’s another element that we’ve missed. Geoff was out at that camp. I don’t trust him, still, and I don’t believe that a man who would kidnap a little girl is somebody who’s playing with a full deck. He’s rolled over on his friends, but there’s something that’s niggling my brain, something I can’t quite get a handle on.”

  “Where’s Cullen?” Cody asked, looking concerned.

  “Safe,” Kaden said, not saying any more. With all the strangers in town, he had the feeling that Flashpoint wasn’t going to take Ghost’s arrest in good spirits. At some point, the group was going to live up to its name. And if it was anything like the murderous Ghost, people could get seriously hurt. Poor Cullen was still recovering and was extremely vulnerable. He would be a perfect target for revenge.

  Just then Alfie came skipping in, high octane as usual, buzzing with energy. “Hey, everyone. I just wanted to check how everything’s going. Is there everything you need in here? Do you have enough drinks and snacks? Oh, and do you all have your bibs with your numbers on for the tournament?” He was babbling, barely pausing between questions, looking a little maniacal.

  Kaden gave the leopard shifter a hug, holding on to the man for a while longer before releasing him. Then he smiled down into the man’s hazel eyes and gave him a tiny peck on the lips. “Everything’s just perfect, Alfie,” he murmured. “You’ve been amazing. I’m looking forward to this tournament so much, and it’s all because of you.” He pressed a second kiss to Alfie’s nose, seeing the look of surprise and wonder on his face.

  Everyone in the room began clapping, all for Alfie, who flushed and ducked his head shyly. “I just want to make it special,” he said, preening. “Two Spirit is about hope and tolerance and love and togetherness,” he added. “I don’t want anything to go wrong. I’d be devastated if something happened.” He looked distraught at the mere thought of the event not happening.

  “Alfie, my friend, we’ll make sure this goes off without a hitch,” John said firmly. “Don’t worry; we have what we need. Two Spirit Tournament will be as fabulous as you are.”

  The little shifter flushed with pleasure and smiled at John, then gave him a big hug. “Thanks. That’s so sweet.” A minute later he was rushing out again, back on full throttle.

  “That boy needs to bottle whatever it is he’s taking and sell it to us old folks,” John drawled dryly. “He wears me out more than the mini critters do.”

  * * * *

  David guided Sketch’s wheelchair along the bumpy path to his cottage, his mind whirling with everything that had happened that day. He was glad that Ghost had been found out, but felt sick that the man had played them all so thoroughly. Such a pervasive, disturbing evil hiding behind a façade of pleasantries and a seemingly genuine aim to help the town of Sage.

  “Is everything okay?” Sketch asked, tilting his head back to look into David’s face. David gave a half smile and shrugged but didn’t reply. “You know, I’ve never understood blind hatred,” the agent said, his dark eyes intent on David, watching every expression that flitted across the younger man’s visage. “That guy Ghost had everyone fooled. A true psychopath, well able to hide his nature until the trigger was pulled.”

  “I still can’t quite believe that he gave those horrible letters to a little boy,” David blurted out. “My own father was a bastard, through and through, but I still don’t get why anyone would need to do that to their own son. What’s wrong with them?” His voice broke on the last sentence, his feelings mixed in with the tormenting memories of his own past.

  Sketch placed his hand on David’s as David pushed the chair along. “Sweetie, I don’t think any decent person could ever understand that kind of mentality,” he replied softly. “Does this remind you of your own childhood?”

  David nodded, the sick feeling increasing. “I hate bullies,” he said, scowling fiercely. “That’s what they are, bullies. They can’t take on a stronger opponent, who could fight back, so they pick on little kids and those who can’t. Daniel, Ghost, Sean, Purdy, the pastor who started the cult, Douglas and Ethan’s mom. They all blame others for stuff that’s happened to them, blameless people, and hurt everyone around them.”

  They rolled to a stop outside the cottage, which was a boon to David’s low spirits. He needed the sanctuary of his home right then. He thought about the little boys who had been targeted by their own father and a madman. Flint and Moe were resilient and had bounced back quickly that afternoon, eating their lunches with obvious delight. But David had seen the shadows in Flint’s eyes, the little flinches whenever he heard an unusual sound or someone came too close too quickly. David recognized the signs, had acted that way himself. Flint had been abused, as David had been. The slap that came from nowhere, a punch to the chest or shoulder, or maybe a belt across the buttocks. All for some minor infringement of a bunch of rules that kept changing, the punishments becoming more aggressive, more brutal as he’d gotten older.

  “Er, I don’t suppose you’d help me into the shower, would you?” Sketch asked huskily, looking a little embarrassed for having to ask. “I’m not real steady on my pins still, and I don’t want to get this cast wet. Lex would string me up if I ruined all his good work.” He grinned, his smile warming David.

  “Of course I’ll help,” David agreed, wheeling his new mate up the temporary ramp that Cody had put down. “After all this time recuperating, it would be a little silly if you ended up back in the emergency room again.”

  Sketch waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “I trust you,” he said, then chuckled when David flushed shyly and guided Sketch right through to the bathroom, parking just outside the door. Carefully, Sketch eased himself upright, wincing a little, and David offered his arm and strength in support. Sketch’s scent invaded his nostrils, a little spicy and a little citrusy, and all male. His body heat seeped through the thin cotton shirt that David wore, warming his skin as Sketch gripped his shoulder firmly. He shivered in reaction, and their eyes met with an almost tangible click.

  “C’mere,” Sketch said with a gentle smile, tugging David closer. The younger shifter moved into his mate’s embrace, who cupped the back of David’s head with his big hand. David stared into Sketch’s warm brown eyes, seeing the lighter swirls of gold highlighting the darker hue.

  “You know, I never had a family,” Sketch said gruffly, rubbing his thumb sensuously at the nape of David’s neck. Since it was a school day, David had tied his longish mane of blond hair back in a small ponytail, with a black ribbon. His bare neck became Sketch’s playground, and he felt the man’s slow seduction in every part of him. “My parents died when I was really young, and I grew up in a series of foster homes. They were pretty good, actually, and I never felt that I missed out or anything.” He frowned, seeming to look inward for a moment. “Then I met this one kid, a young girl who was a little different from everyone else. Nothing that I could put my finger on, but I just had a sense that she was special somehow.” He smiled suddenly. “One day a kid who was twice her size began to make fun of her, pulled her hair and called her names that were mean. He wouldn’t stop, and even after he was told to behave and was put in time-out by the foster parents, he kept on doing it. Then the kid hit her, slapping her around as though it were her fault he got in trouble. She took it for a while, warning him to back off, and then bit him with these sharp little fangs and wouldn’t let go. Her eyes changed, too, like
a cat’s eyes, and she hissed, as well. She was so pissed off at him. When she let him go, he was so terrified that he ran off. I thought she’d get into trouble, but the foster parents told the older kid off instead and said that’s what happened for being mean. The kid never troubled her again.”

  David leaned against his mate and felt Sketch’s arms enfold him. Sketch held him close until their bodies were plastered together. “They saw what happened?” he asked, surprised. “And they didn’t hurt her or anything?”

  “No, honey, they didn’t,” Sketch replied with a smile. “In fact, the little girl and I stayed there until we both graduated high school. I ended up joining the military, and she became a teacher. I stayed in touch with her over the years. She got married and has kids of her own now. I’m their godparent, for their sins.” He chuckled, the husky sound running over David’s eardrums pleasantly, soothing him. He loved being in Sketch’s arms and snuggled closer, resting his head on the man’s broad shoulder and inhaling his delicious scent. He felt Sketch run a hand down his back and cup his ass gently, and he gave a murmur of contentment. This was nice, just being held, no real pressure and surrounded by the strength and security of the warm embrace.

  “What happened to the other kid?” David asked curiously and heard Sketch give another laugh, sounding embarrassed.

  “I’m right here,” Sketch replied gruffly.

  “You were the other kid, the one who bullied her?” David asked in shock, pulling back and nearly toppling the other man into the wall.