Pulling away from Jeremiah’s weak grip, Quinn grabbed the blanket and yanked it down. He grimaced, then rounded to a small dresser on the other side of the room. “Shit, Jer. They haven’t even dressed you. Are you that injured?” He came back with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. “Let me help you.”
Jeremiah wanted the clothes, but he didn’t know if he wanted to leave. It was an odd realization. Still, he didn’t want his buddy to get into trouble for his escape attempt. Maybe he could talk him out of it.
Except, after dressing, even with Quinn’s help, Jeremiah felt sweat bead his brow and his head swam. He had trouble stringing two words together, especially when Quinn wrapped an arm around his torso and helped him to his feet. He had to squeeze his ribs, which nearly caused Jeremiah to black out. Fortunately, Quinn moved his hand to Jeremiah’s waist.
Jeremiah found himself out of the hospital wing and struggling down a hallway before he knew it.
Chapter Eight
Grateman paced Maelgwn’s study. “What do you mean, he’s gone?” he snarled roughly. “How could Jeremiah be gone? He could barely walk on his own.”
“During the commotion of Matthew laying his egg, Quinn took him,” Raymond explained. He swung Maelgwn’s laptop around and showed him the screen. It was broken into four video snapshots. “Here they are leaving the infirmary. Here’s one of them slipping out a side door. And these two show their trek through the woods.”
Growling softly, Grateman stared at the pictures. In each of them, Jeremiah leaned heavily on the other human. He didn’t seem to be more than half conscious.
“He was doing fine yesterday,” Grateman murmured, touching the screen. “What happened to him?” He scowled. “Did Quinn hit him on the head or something?”
“No,” Maelgwn countered. “He was exhausted after telling Tobias and I everything he knew about the hunters. Cosmo gave him a sleeping pill, so he’d get plenty of rest. That way, he’d have more energy once you woke from roost.” Sighing, Maelgwn growled, “He’s drugged, not injured any further.”
“Who’s going after them?” Grateman snarled. He wished he could be one of them, but without a human form, he couldn’t very well go into town to search for him. Not when others could be sent.
“Detective DeSoto and Tristan are on it,” Maelgwn assured. “Along with Einan and Tobias,” he assured. He turned to Raymond. “Have you been able to hack traffic cams in town at all?”
“There aren’t that many to hack,” Raymond admitted. “I have Quinn crossing main street almost two hours ago, but after that I lost him.” He gave Grateman a sympathetic look. “He was alone, so it seems he left Jeremiah somewhere.”
“I need to get out there,” Grateman growled. “I need to do something. If he left him in the woods, I can find him.”
Maelgwn hesitated only an instant before jerking a nod. “I’ll go with you,” he stated. Focusing on Sapian, he ordered, “Coordinate with the others and keep me posted.”
Sapian nodded from where he stood. Mostly healed, only the slightest pucker of flesh remained where he’d had three slugs dug out of his torso. “It will be done.”
Grateman didn’t wait for more. He spun and stalked out of the room. Trotting to the nearest exit, he spread his wings and took flight, heading to where the pictures had shown Jeremiah had disappeared into the trees.
* * * *
Jeremiah shifted uncomfortably, trying to get away from the lump that was digging into his spine. Frowning, he peeled open first one eyelid, then the second one. He peered around the room. For the second time in as many weeks, he didn’t recognize where he was.
Easing slowly to a sitting position, Jeremiah ignored the pain. Once seated, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. The spinning of his head made standing impossible, so he sat and stared at the floor.
When Jeremiah could focus again, he took in the room. He realized he was in a run-down hotel room. There were two queen beds, plus the traditional small round table and two chairs, and a bureau with a TV on it. To the right was a half-open door showing a bathroom. A microwave and coffee pot rested on a counter set in the back wall with a tiny refrigerator underneath it.
“Where the hell am I?” Jeremiah wondered. “And how did I get here?”
Jeremiah racked his mind, searching his memories. He had a long conversation with Maelgwn and Tobias, but after that... nothing. Wait... wait, there was something. Something about Quinn.
Rubbing his temple, Jeremiah glanced around again. Either way, he needed to get in touch with Maelgwn or Grateman. He had no desire to have them think he was going back on his word. What if hunters had infiltrated the estate? He needed to figure out where he was.
Pushing to his feet, Jeremiah lurched to the nightstand. The only thing inside was a Gideon Bible. He used the bed as a crutch to help him make it to the desk. On it, he found stationary that told him he was in a motel in Durango, Colorado.
Okay.
There were a few fliers, too, which he flipped though. He paused at one, the name of the place catching his attention. While sitting naked on the toilet, he’d overheard Grateman arguing with Doctor Perseus. The doctor had a mate, which he didn’t want Jeremiah around. A mate named Wren, who happened to work as a cook at the diner Goldy’s Burgers & Bites.
Picking up the phone, Jeremiah dialed zero to get an outside line, then the number for the restaurant. A moment later, a young male greeted, “Thanks for calling Goldy’s Burgers and Bites. This is Tim. How can I help you?”
Shit. Now what?
“Uh, is Wren there?” Yeah. Just brilliant.
“He is,” Tim responded. “Who should I tell him is calling?”
Wren wouldn’t know him, so what should he say to convince him to take his call? “This is Jeremiah. Will you tell him it’s an emergency and that I’m a friend of Perseus and Grateman?”
“Will do,” Tim responded. “Hang on, please.”
Jeremiah didn’t bother responding, but he didn’t have to. Almost immediately, hold music sounded through the phone. Rubbing his forehead, Jeremiah waited.
“Who is this?”
Jeremiah’s eyes widened upon hearing the deep, gruff voice. He swallowed hard, then asked, “Is this Wren?”
After an instant of hesitation, the man replied. “Yes. How do you know Perseus?”
Needing to know if this was the right Wren, he stated, “My name is Jeremiah. Are you, uh, are you... Perseus’ mate?”
“Who the fuck are you?” Wren snarled. “You think you’re going to threaten my mate?”
Relief filled Jeremiah. “Oh, thank God,” he whispered. “No, I don’t mean to threaten you or anyone.” Now, anyway. “I’m trying to contact Grateman. He’s my mate, but I’m in a motel, and I’m not totally sure how I got here.”
Wren remained quiet for a few seconds, then warily asked, “What motel are you at and what room are you in?”
Good question.
“I, uh. Hold on,” Jeremiah murmured. “I’ll check.”
Setting down the phone, Jeremiah forced himself to his feet. He rested one hand on the wall, using it for support as he made his way to the door. After opening it and noting the sixteen on the door, he closed it and returned to the desk.
Jeremiah told the man the information, then asked, “Do you have a phone number for Grateman?”
“No,” Wren replied. “But I can give you Maelgwn’s. You want it?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Jeremiah replied. He grabbed a complimentary pen and paper. “Ready.”
Wren rattled off a number and Jeremiah’s unsteady hand could barely keep up. “I’m going to send over a couple of guys to keep you company,” Wren stated. “You don’t sound too good.”
“Okay,” Jeremiah whispered. “The door’s open.”
“You shouldn’t leave your door open,” Wren cautioned.
“Yeah, well, if your guys want to get in the room, that’s the only way,” Jeremiah replied. “A
fter I call Maelgwn, I’m going to pass out. I’m still recovering.”
“Recovering?” Wren asked. “From what?”
“I—” He paused, hearing the knob turn. “Someone’s coming in,” he whispered. “I gotta go.”
“Jeremiah?” Wren called. “What’s going on?”
Jeremiah didn’t answer. Instead, he returned the phone to the cradle. As quickly as possible, he picked it back up again, hit zero, then dialed Maelgwn’s number. He prayed the man would pick up and listen.
“Hey, Jer,” Quinn called, entering the room. “You’re up. That’s fantastic.” He grinned as he swept his gaze over Jeremiah’s seated form. “I was worried I’d have to carry your ass to the car, too.”
Setting the phone down on the desk, Jeremiah murmured, “Quinn. How did I get here?” He paused, then added, “Did you carry me all the way to the Timber Ridge Motel?”
Quinn closed the door behind him. “Yeah, man. I couldn’t leave you behind, especially when I realized they were keeping you sedated.” He crossed to him and cocked his head, eyeing him critically. “You’re looking a little rough. What’d they do to you?”
Jeremiah eased back in his chair, sighing. “They didn’t do anything, Quinn,” he told him. “I wiped out on a dirt bike while trying to get away.” He didn’t add that he was being chased at the time. That wouldn’t help Quinn believe paranormals weren’t a threat... well, not one human hunters should go after, anyway. “One of the gargoyles took me to their infirmary. They stitched me up. They even operated and fixed a rib so I didn’t puncture a lung.”
Quinn’s brows furrowed. “You make it sound like gargoyles are a good thing.”
“You remember what I told you while unloading those boxes at the dock? That I didn’t think all paranormals deserved to die?” Jeremiah asked.
Scoffing, Quinn rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember. Do you still believe that?”
Frowning, Jeremiah asked, “Do you believe Hitler was right to try and wipe out an entire ethnicity during the Holocaust?”
Quinn gaped. “Shit, no man. How could you even ask that?”
Jeremiah carefully shrugged. “I’m just wondering how you think us destroying every shifter or vampire is different than Hitler trying to do the same thing to Jews.”
“It’s totally different,” Quinn growled. “I—” He stopped and huffed a breath. “You know what? Whatever. I rented a car and contacted Roger, so he knows where we are and where those monster’s home is. We won’t have to worry about them for much longer.” He began reaching for him as he said, “Come on. I’ll help you to the car.”
“I gotta piss first,” Jeremiah claimed, trying to stall. He wondered how long it would take for Wren’s friends to show up. Could Maelgwn trace the call and figure out where he was? Jeremiah had no idea of their capabilities. “Help me to the bathroom.”
“Right. Sure,” Quinn grumbled.
Jeremiah took his sweet time getting to the bathroom, then made slow work of taking care of business. He had just finished washing his hands and face, drying them on a towel, when he heard the knock.
Quinn warily called out, “Who is it?”
“Delivery,” a slightly accented masculine voice stated. “Goldy’s Burgers and Bites.”
Jeremiah quickly yanked open the bathroom door. “I ordered it,” he claimed, leaning against the frame. He was getting damn tired of the fatigue and pain. “I was hungry when I woke and didn’t know how long you’d be.”
Grunting, Quinn nodded. “We can eat in the car.” He opened the door.
“Hello, handsome,” that same masculine voice stated. “Can I come in and set this down?”
Quinn scoffed. “Whatever, dude. It’s not gonna get you a better tip,” he stated, stepping backward and letting a tall, muscular man with skin nearly black as night into the room. “What do I owe you?”
The guy sauntered into the room, glancing from Quinn to Jeremiah. “One of you guys, Jeremiah?”
“I am,” Jeremiah revealed.
The stranger set down the bag on the table, then grinned at Quinn. “Excellent. That means you’re available.” He stalked toward Quinn. “My name is Taolma. You gonna tell me your name, sexy?”
Quinn must have finally realized that Taolma was serious about his attraction. He gaped, then glanced toward Jeremiah, allowing him to see the way his friend’s face flamed. Jeremiah hid a snort behind his hand.
Pointing at the food, Jeremiah offered, “Quinn, I can go sit and eat outside if ya’ll want to have a little fun.”
“What?” Quinn gasped. “B-But I was married... to a woman.”
Jeremiah grinned. “Well, you’re single right now, so why not have a little fun?” He looked at Taolma, impressed by his lean, strong form. “He’s a good looking guy. From his straight-forwardness, I’m guessing he’s not a virgin.” He waggled his brows. “You gonna make it good for my buddy?”
Taolma actually growled softly, his expression clouded with lust. “Oh, I will make it very, very good for you.” He reached out, grabbing Quinn’s wallet—where the man had gotten it, Jeremiah had no idea. “Set this aside, Quinn.”
Even the way Taolma said his friend’s name sounded, well, feral. Huh. Was this guy a shifter? Jeremiah couldn’t say he’d be surprised if he was.
“What’s the hold up?” A man asked, appearing in the doorway. This man was also tall and black, but older. His brows shot up as he took in the scene. “Taolma?”
Hardly glancing over his shoulder, Taolma growled, “This trip might take longer than planned, Golren. This handsome Quinn is mine.”
Yep. Definitely a shifter.
Evidently, Quinn hadn’t noticed, yet, which was good.
Jeremiah cleared his throat, drawing Golren’s attention. “I’m Jeremiah. Ya wanna help me out the door... and that food smells amazing.” He pointed at the bag. “Is there a picnic bench around or something where I can eat? We can give these guys a little, uh, privacy?”
Golren gaped for an instant, then glanced at the others. Evidently, he understood what was going on, too. He jerked a nod, then crossed to the bag, grabbed it, then came to Jeremiah. “You okay to move?” Golren asked softly. “Grateman is damn worried about you.”
Sighing, Jeremiah smiled. “You talked to him?”
Golren nodded. “Yeah. We got a few texts from our friends on the way over,” he whispered, glancing toward the other pair before wrapping his arm around him and urging him to lean on him. “Let’s get you out of here and back to him.”
“God, yes,” Jeremiah mumbled. “That bed is so damn lumpy.”
Chuckling, Golren easily helped him out of the room.
Jeremiah wasn’t certain why he was trusting this stranger, who was most definitely a shifter. He could tell by the ease with which he maneuvered him. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d willingly go with a shifter, so he could get away from a fellow hunter.
Evidently, Jeremiah exiting was finally the action that woke Quinn from his confusion. “Hey, wait a minute,” he cried, whipping a gun from behind his back. “Where are you taking him?”
Jeremiah had no idea where Quinn had gotten the gun any more than he knew where his ability to rent a car and pay for food had come from. He paused, still leaning on Golren as he frowned at his friend. “What are you doing, Quinn? He’s just giving me a hand so you can have some privacy.”
“I don’t need privacy,” Quinn snapped. “We’re leaving town, remember?” He glared at Taolma. “I sure as hell ain’t gonna let you fuck me. Back off!”
Taolma lifted his hands as if in placation. Then, in a move Jeremiah couldn’t see because the black man’s body was in the way, he moved his hands. In the next instant the gun was on the motel room floor. He spun Quinn around to face the desk and bent him over it. The man’s lean form draped over him, his wrists were pinned to the desk on either side of his head.
“Stop moving,” Taolma ordered, his tone gruff. �
�You are safe. I will not hurt you.” He rubbed his nose up Quinn’s neck, inhaling deeply. He sighed, obviously enjoying the man’s scent. “You smell so fucking good. I had no idea a mate would smell this good.”
Quinn froze. He peered over his shoulder, his wide-eyed gaze straying from Taolma to Jeremiah and back to Taolma. “You’re a shifter?”
“I am,” Taolma rumbled. He rubbed his hands over Quinn’s upper arms, obviously trying to soothe. At the same time, he pressed a kiss to Quinn’s bandaged cheek. “Try to relax,” he urged. “You’re safe.”
Instead, fear filled Quinn’s eyes as he returned his focus to Jeremiah. “You called them?”
Jeremiah nodded. “I did.”
“Why? How could you?” Quinn squeaked, his fear obvious.
“Because I want to save a lot of innocent lives,” Jeremiah murmured. Grimacing, he added, “And some not-so-innocent ones.” He tipped his head to look up at Golren. “We must warn the gargoyles. An attack is coming.”
Chapter Nine
Grateman stood on the front porch, watching the SUV roll down the driveway. Jogging down the steps, he reached the vehicle just as the driver, who he noted was Golren, stopped before the garage. He yanked open the front passenger door.
A wellspring of relief flooded Grateman upon seeing Jeremiah’s pale face and wan smile. “Jeremiah,” he rumbled, reaching for him. He gently took his mate’s face in his hands, cupping his neck and jaw. “Are you okay? Do you hurt? Are you hungry?”
“Hey, Grateman,” Jeremiah murmured. “The guys brought me a burger and holy shit was it amazing. Have you ever eaten Wren’s food? Amazing.”
“No,” Grateman admitted. “I haven’t.”
Jeremiah hummed. “After we bond and you go through molt, you’re totally taking me.”
Grateman grinned at his mate’s words. “You have yourself a deal.”
Closing the distance between them, Grateman pressed his lips to Jeremiah’s. He enjoyed the soft feel of his mate’s mouth, ignoring the insults spewing from the human being pulled from the back seat. Instead, he rubbed his claw along Jeremiah’s jaw line as he nipped at his human’s bottom lip.
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