Hide and Seek

by JC Holly

  Evernight Publishing

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2014 JC Holly

  ISBN: 978-1-77130-920-2

  Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs

  Editor: JS Cook

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For the love of my life

  HIDE AND SEEK

  Romance on the Go

  JC Holly

  Copyright © 2014

  Chapter One

  Terry Carding leaned against the wall of the rundown convenience store and watched the rain bounce off his folded arms. Two hours he’d been standing there, on an anonymous tip-off, and not one person had been anywhere near the building opposite him.

  “Another bust,” he muttered, as he flicked the water from his hood.

  It was starting to be an embarrassment. He had a reputation for being a guy who could find anyone, no matter how well they hid or how many people they paid off to stay under the radar. This target, though, threatened to beat him.

  Just as he was ready to leave, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, and turned to find a man strolling down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street to him. The man had a hat pulled low over his eyes, but his height and build matched the description Terry had been given for one Eric Dansen.

  Feigning disinterest, he glanced down at his phone and checked his emails. If the man looked over, and no doubt he would, he’d assume Terry was waiting for somebody. If the man was indeed Dansen, that would mean he was a shapeshifter—a wolf shifter to be precise. Terry would need to play it very carefully. Even with the rain keeping his scent down, he’d have to keep his distance.

  Across the road a door clunked, and he glanced up to find the man stepping into the warehouse. The tip-off had been accurate after all. After checking for onlookers, Terry followed, tensed and ready for fight or flight. He opened the door just enough to slip inside, then pulled it closed behind him, dropping him into the dim light that came through the building’s grimy windows.

  While he couldn’t make out much in the low light, he could tell he wasn’t alone.

  “Mister Carding.”

  Terry froze. “Who?”

  There was a hum, followed by the clink clink of a row of old fluorescent lights as they flickered into life. Underneath one of them stood Eric.

  “Why are you following me?” he said.

  His voice was deep, little more than a rumble. No doubt he was doing it to try and intimidate Terry. It was working.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Eric raised an eyebrow. “I don’t often make mistakes, Mister Carding, and in this case I’m certain I haven’t. After all, why would anyone else follow me into a disused building on the outskirts of town?”

  Terry shrugged. “Maybe I intended to mug you.”

  “You’re welcome to try.”

  Even if the man hadn’t been a shifter, Terry would have thought twice about tussling with him. Terry was no lightweight himself, but Dansen was built like he bench-pressed cars for a living. Cute, though. The light he was under didn’t do favors to anyone, but the man looked damn good nonetheless. In any other situation, Terry would have been hitting on the guy.

  “Look,” Terry said, holding up his hands. “It’s like this. I was hired to find you, and then tell my employer where you were. That’s all. I followed a tip and here you are.”

  “A tip I gave you.”

  Terry frowned, then cursed under his breath. “Of course you did.” An out-of-the-blue lead after a week of looking for him? “I should’ve known.”

  “You should have, but you didn’t.”

  “So what happens now?”

  Terry shifted his body slightly, in case he needed to dodge a bullet or make for a door, but Eric didn’t move a muscle.

  “Consider this your warning,” the man said. “Next time I see you I won’t be so friendly.”

  “So I’m free to go?”

  Eric nodded. “Not that you’ll believe me, but I’ve done nothing wrong. The man who hired you is the one you should be watching. Or running away from.”

  Before Terry could reply, the lights flicked off again and something brushed past him, heading to the door. At first he thought something had been thrown at him, since it moved so fast, but a hint of aftershave told him otherwise. Eric had moved faster than Terry could believe.

  He turned to stare at the door leading to the street, now wide open after Eric’s exit. Had what he’d said been true? Terry was a pretty good judge of character—had to be, given his line of work—but he couldn’t be sure.

  It was a shame they couldn’t have talked longer, and given him more time to decide. More time to chat the guy up, too. He wondered what Mister Eric Dansen looked like under better lighting. And with less clothing.

  He smirked in the darkness and walked to the exit.

  Chapter Two

  As soon as Eric was out of the warehouse he made straight for the trees at the end of the street. With the cover, as well as the darkness, he could move as fast as he wanted without risk of being spotted.

  Not that he’d been quite so careful in the warehouse. Sprinting past that man had been an attempt at discouraging him from following, but Eric suspected subconsciously it was also an attempt at showing off.

  He growled at himself as he shot through the forest. The guy had been cute, sure, and at another time Eric might have considered taking him home, but he was also the man hired to track him. Hired by Christophe, no less.

  Just thinking the name raised his blood pressure. After so many years the guy still held enough of a grudge to pay someone to keep tabs on him. And to send a human? It was almost an insult. Unless Christophe had wanted Eric to confront the man. Eric slowed for a moment. That made sense. Christophe’s little way of saying, “I’m still watching you.”

  Eric dodged around a small open area that was used for picnics, then leaped over a narrow river, cutting a few minutes from his route. He was close to home now, and slowed to what he considered a jog—a human would likely consider it more like a sprint.

  The house was a cabin located at the end of a mile long dirt road. Even before he’d been turned into a shifter he’d always loved the outdoors, so the location was ideal. Waking to the sounds of birds and the wind in the trees was far superior to the sounds of traffic. Especially when your hearing was as acute as his.

  It also meant people hired to track him had a considerably harder time.

  He let himself in through the door and locked it behind him. Inside the place looked nothing like a typical cabin. Instead of rustic furniture and fur rugs over cold floors, he had leather chairs, thick carpeting, and central heating. It had cost a pretty penny to get the electricity company to set up the supply, along with the phone line, but it had been worth it. A modern haven miles from anywhere.

  As soon as his body met the couch, his stresses drifted away. Most of them, anyway. For some reason Terry Carding, his human tracker, remained. Eric screwed up his brow as he worked out why. The man was no threat, that was certain. Even if he was capable of hurting a shifter, Eric had a good sense for people, and he could tell Terry wasn’t the violent type. A little shifty maybe, given his line of work, but not violent. Cute, too.

  “Ah,” Eric muttered.

  The man was attract
ive. Very attractive, in fact. The dim light in the warehouse may have messed with Terry’s vision, but it had no effect on a shifter’s, and Eric got a good look at the man. He’d been a little taller than average, with a swimmer’s build concealed under his jeans and jacket. It was the kind of job where fitness would certainly help. His hair had been hidden under the hood of his jacket, but his blue eyes had shined even in the low light.

  Eric shifted on the couch and adjusted his slowly thickening cock. Damn, it had been too long, hadn’t it? He’d only met with the man for a minute or two, and already he was wondering what the guy looked like with his mouth full.

  Eric sighed and shook his head. “I really need a boyfriend.”

  ***

  Terry got back to his apartment just before midnight. The streets had been empty but he’d moved fast nonetheless. In his line of work it paid to be paranoid. Even once inside with the door bolted, it took him a while before he started to relax. The night could have gone very differently, and the possibilities were still bouncing around his head when he dropped into his favorite armchair with a generous amount of Scotch in his glass.

  He’d gone into the job prepared for confrontation, but not the kind he’d ended up with. Despite the warnings from his employer Eric had come across as a nice guy. Sure, he was pissed off at being followed, but who wouldn’t be? And he only warned Terry off. They’d been in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. Eric could have snapped his neck and nobody would be the wiser until Terry’s body had been found days or weeks later.

  Terry shuddered at the thought. “I should have been a florist like Mom wanted.”

  He cradled his whisky for a while, letting it warm to room temperature before taking a sip and relaxing back into the thick cushions of his chair. The morning would bring more stress—the biggest being when he looked into Christophe to see if Eric was telling the truth—but the next couple of hours were for doing nothing except watching something dumb on the TV while getting lightly hammered.

  After ten minutes, though, he flipped the TV off and thumped his glass down onto the coffee table. It was no good; he had to know whether Eric was telling the truth. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t sleep.

  He pulled his cellphone from his pocket and dialed the number of the guy he paid to do background checks. The call was answered on the first ring.

  “Yo,” came a modulated voice on the other end of the line.

  “Christophe,” Terry said. “A shifter. I don’t know his last name, but he’s apparently a bigwig. Sounded English. Know him?”

  “Maybe.”

  Terry smirked. Cagey as ever.

  “I need to know what kind of guy he is,” he continued. “He hired me, but I have reason to think he may be playing on the wrong side, if you get my meaning.”

  “Call you right back.”

  The line went dead. Terry put the phone on his knee and sat back. If any information existed on the shifter, Terry’s contact would get it. The man—he was so paranoid he’d never even given his name—was nothing if not reliable.

  The wait was short. After a few minutes the phone chirped and Terry answered.

  “Well?”

  “First up, he has no last name,” the robotic voice said. “He adopted Christophe some time in the last century and didn’t bother with a surname. And he’s most certainly not on your side. We’re talking protection rackets, extortion, even murder. A regular supernatural Godfather.”

  Terry’s stomach dropped. Damn it. He was usually a great judge of character, but he’d been way wrong. He never dealt with criminals, only tracked them. Christophe had been so damn persuasive, though. No doubt it came from decades or manipulating people.

  “You there?” the voice asked.

  “Yeah. Sorry.” Terry cleared his throat. “I’ll transfer the usual fee.”

  “I know you will. Be careful, Carding.”

  The call ended and Terry tossed the phone onto the table as he retrieved his whisky. His contact never normally warned him. Not a good sign. He took a large swig of his drink. What was the next step?

  To his somewhat numb mind, there were two options. The first was to cut and run. Tell Christophe he hadn’t found Eric and then do a disappearing act of his own. He’d done it before, grudgingly, and while it was hard it wasn’t as hard as most people thought.

  The other option was to give Christophe all the information he had, including the meeting with Eric, and hope to come out unscathed.

  Just the thought of the latter had him shaking his head. He wasn’t a rat, and he wasn’t about to start being one. He tracked criminals, not innocent people, and as far as he knew Eric Dansen was entirely innocent. Wasn’t he?

  Chapter Three

  The next morning came early. Too early for Terry’s liking. He’d passed out in his chair, still fully dressed from the previous night. With a somewhat painful stretch, he stood and headed to the bathroom to shower.

  Before sleeping he’d called his contact back and checked on Eric. The contact had come back with a little information, but not much. All of it was positive, though. The guy was squeaky clean, as far as the contact could tell.

  That was good enough for Eric, and had made his decision simpler. He’d find the man one more time to apologize, then he’d call Christophe and explain he’d found nothing, pay his deposit back and hope the man didn’t send out a hit squad.

  The hot water from the shower jolted him from his musings, and he let the heat do its thing while he scrubbed at his hair.

  If he was honest, there was another reason he wanted to see Eric again. The man was cute, and almost definitely gay. If there was even a chance that Terry could come out of the mess with a date, he’d go for it. Sure, it was dumb, and almost definitely unlikely to happen, but it was worth a try.

  His cock twitched and he slid a soapy hand down his stomach, onto his thickening shaft. It didn’t take much effort to make him hard, and he began to stroke himself as he pictured the big burly shifter stripped naked as Terry bent over, waiting for his cock. Shifters were immune to everything, too, which meant Eric could fuck him bareback and blow wherever he chose.

  “Fuck,” Terry muttered as his cock twinged in response.

  He wasn’t going to last long, but that hardly mattered when he was alone. He sped up the inevitable with a flurry of hand movement, and came hard. He sucked in a breath and finished his shower.

  He was definitely going to have to track Eric down again.

  ***

  Eric slammed the axe down into another log, neatly splitting it into two equal sized chunks, then bent and put another log in place. Technically he didn’t need to bother, since the cabin had full central heating, but there was something comforting about a roaring fire, regardless of temperature or the time of day.

  By the time he finished the sun was fully risen, peeking out from under a sky of wispy clouds. The air was full of scents, most of them the kind that made him glad to be alive. Just to be safe, he’d kept an eye on the access road for the entire time he’d been outside. The wind was blowing in the opposite direction, so anyone walking along the road would have to be spotted rather than scented.

  The chances of Christophe sending anyone directly to his door was slim, even if the guy knew his address, but after last night’s events, it paid to be cautious. He was more than a little surprised when he glanced up a second time and found Terry leaned against a tree a few hundred yards away.

  “Morning,” the man called. “You’re a tricky man to find.”

  Eric’s first instinct was to rush over and teach him not to trespass on his property, but there was something about Terry’s body language that told Eric the man wasn’t there for a fight. Eric hefted the axe onto a shoulder and began to walk over, his senses on full alert, in case his instincts were wrong.

  “What do you want?”

  Terry straightened and slid his hand into his jacket. Eric froze momentarily, then relaxed as the man pulled out a manila folder and held it out
at arm’s length.

  “An olive branch.”

  Eric frowned, but took the folder. “What is it?”

  “Everything I have on Christophe, and everything I could obtain without risking unwanted attention.” Terry smiled. “I owe you an apology. You are definitely not the man he said you were.”

  Eric flicked through the pages. Most of the information was already known to him, but the gesture was certainly appreciated. He scented the air once, to make sure nobody else had snuck up on him, then gestured to the cabin.

  “Come in. You’re dehydrated from your walk.”

  Terry smirked. “Some senses you have, there.”

  Eric shrugged. “They come in handy.”

  “I bet.”

  They walked the short distance in silence, but Eric’s mind whirred. He’d underestimated Terry. Not only had the man dug up information about one of the most hard to find men in the shifter world, but he’d tracked down the cabin in the space of a night. Either the man was very smart, or very lucky.

  Eric stepped ahead to open the door and gestured for Terry to step inside. The man hesitated for a moment, then walked in. His head shifted as he looked around the cabin.

  “Not what I was expecting.”

  “That’s what everyone says,” Eric replied, as he tossed the folder onto the small coffee table. “You didn’t need to get this information for me, you know. You could’ve got yourself into trouble.”

  Terry shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, I was careful. Besides, I don’t want people thinking I’ll work for just anyone. That’s not the kind of reputation you want in my line of business.”

  Eric nodded his thanks and moved to the kitchen. “Drink? You can sit down, by the way.”