He glanced at the clock again to see it’d only changed four times since the last time he checked. He’d managed to use up four lousy minutes. He picked his phone up, but there’d been no messages. He carefully plugged it back in, wanting to make sure it was fully charged, not wishing to risk missing any possible contact. He didn’t expect any—hoped, but didn’t expect—but he wasn’t taking chances.
He packed up his laptop, work notes, and everything else. He left himself the boxers he wore, his clothes for the next morning he’d laid out, and his phone and charger. He was as ready as he’d ever be. He glanced at the clock again.
Three more minutes. He groaned and went back to pacing.
BY THE time Tanner got through security, he was a nervous wreck. His wolf did not want to get on that plane. Tanner didn’t either, truth be told, but if it would get him to Finley, he’d do it.
The little subway between security and the terminals themselves hadn’t been much better. At least it’d been in the ground, not far above it. He’d comforted himself with thoughts of fresh coffee on the other side. It didn’t do a damned thing for his wolf, but it certainly made his human feel better.
He’d found the coffee shop—not Starbucks, but a close facsimile—and was grateful to see it wasn’t too busy. Busy enough; he wouldn’t have thought that many people were flying out at six a.m. He’d put up with it, though. He hadn’t slept a wink. His last two and a half hours had been spent as anxious as the eight before: pacing, cursing himself, cursing Jamie, even cursing Finley before taking that last back and going back to pacing again.
He was exhausted, but had no idea when he’d get rest. He didn’t expect to sleep much at all until he got to Oregon and had his mate in his arms again.
So it was coffee. Even with the ability to metabolize it quickly, it still helped get him going. He bought two cups, knowing he’d go through the first one quickly.
Even with that small comfort, it took every bit of self-control he possessed to keep from pacing as he waited to board. He couldn’t stop the leg-fidgeting or foot-bouncing. And he couldn’t keep from obsessively checking his phone either. Of course, there wasn’t anything new. He wasn’t really expecting it, though he kept hoping. And it was way too early to call. A glance at the time told him it was approaching three in the morning in Oregon.
He wouldn’t be able to check in until he landed in Denver. He tried to trust that they’d do what they said they would and call him when they found Finley. The problem was, he knew they were all angry with him for how he’d treated Finley, justifiably so. He just hoped they weren’t so pissed they wouldn’t call him, hoped their understanding of mating would win out over their anger, and they’d make sure he was given any news, even the tiniest scrap.
However, if that was the case and they weren’t too angry to talk to him… that meant Finley was still missing. And that was so much worse.
When they called his group for boarding, Tanner sprang to his feet as if he’d been ejected from the chair. He got a few odd looks, but he couldn’t give a shit. He was too wound up to care. He snatched up his backpack and coffee and got in line.
The only ticket he’d managed to get was first class. Once he was settled in the seat, he was grateful for it. At some three inches above six feet, he wasn’t sure how he’d have fit in economy.
His gratitude extended further when he realized he could drink for free. He checked his ticket, saw this flight lasted some two and a half hours and, six in the morning or not, requested a whiskey. He had plenty of time for it to help calm him down—it wouldn’t do a lot, but it might help a little—and still wear off in time for him to be sober to switch planes.
Sometimes, he loved his metabolism. He drank the first bottle, wincing as it burned its way down his throat, then smiled at the flight attendant. “Another. Please. In fact, keep them coming.”
She looked mildly concerned. “Not much of a flier?”
“Lady, if you had any idea,” he muttered, too quietly for her to hear. Louder, he said, “No, really not a flier.” He managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”
She patted his shoulder and went back to the galley.
Tanner took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying not to think about what he was about to do. Instead, he focused on seeing Finley again, on holding his mate in his arms. He couldn’t let himself go any further than that or he’d at least annoy the guy next to him if not downright shock the man. The thoughts of Finley helped, and he let out a slow breath so he didn’t look like a complete nut when the flight attendant came back.
It would seriously delay their return from Oregon, but there was no way they were flying home. They’d take the train back or Tanner would rent a car. Either way, this wasn’t happening again. He couldn’t see Finley wanting to do this any more than he did, and after everything he’d put Finley through, there was no way he’d put his mate through flying too.
He drank another whiskey.
He had a slight buzz going by the time the flight attendants were doing their safety speech. Tanner refused to even think about what they were saying—he didn’t want the reminder that the plane could crash—and instead continued to work through the last couple of whiskeys he had. His wolf seemed to have calmed a bit, though Tanner knew as soon as the alcohol wore off, he’d be nuts again. He’d worry about that later.
To his surprise, the alcohol relaxed him enough that, on top of the exhaustion of a sleepless night and the worry over Finley, he passed out before they even took off.
HE COULDN’T decide if he was grateful or not that he was sober when the plane landed in Denver. After almost literally stumbling across the Starbucks and ending up on the wrong level of the center court, he decided it was a good thing he wasn’t drunk. He’d never have found the steak sandwich place or his connecting gate if he had been.
The lady at the counter at the steak place gave him a weird look when he asked for two of their steak wraps.
“You know they’re big?” She held up her hands, some six inches apart to demonstrate.
He wondered if her boyfriend told her that was eight inches, the way she said it. He swallowed the snicker. “I eat a lot.”
Her gaze did a single slow trip down Tanner’s body. “Uh-huh. Two wraps. Anything to drink?”
Tanner shook his head and held up the Starbucks cup. “I’m good. Thanks.”
She gave him the total, and he was grateful to pay and move along in the line.
He got his food and made it to the gate just as they started boarding. He was glad to see he wouldn’t have to wait. If his brain was occupied enough with all of that, he couldn’t worry about Finley. It took him a bit to juggle his coffee, food, and backpack enough to pull out his ticket, but he did it.
Once he’d found his seat, though, worry for Finley came back with a vengeance, and he knew he needed to at least check in. So that was the first thing he did.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Logan?”
“Oh, dear, call me Grammy. We still haven’t heard from him. Where are you?”
Tanner sighed. “Denver. I just boarded the plane for Portland. This one’s about three hours. I’m due in Portland at one your time.”
“I don’t know how you’re doing it. The last time I tried to fly, I just about went nuts. Dan almost had to carry me off the plane. Swore I’d never do it again. As for Finley, well… don’t worry about him. I’m sure he’s fine.”
She didn’t sound too sure about that.
Tanner hesitated. “Do you really think that?”
She paused for a long moment. “I want to. He’s a strong young man, Tanner. He fights well. Wherever he is, he’s okay. I believe it.”
Tanner swallowed and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I… I do too. He is strong. So, uh, did anyone go out yet today?”
“Jamie and Dan just went out a little while ago, but I don’t hold out much hope. I’m not sure he wants to be found right now. He’ll come back on his own.”
Tanner didn’t
growl, but it was a close thing. He struggled for a long moment with his wolf—already nuts because of the plane—before he could speak. He didn’t think it was something that simple. And, he could admit, he didn’t like hearing Jamie’s name. “I have a few thoughts about that, but I can’t get into them now. I’ll call from Portland to check in.”
“Please. And when you land in Pendleton too. Okay?”
“Thanks, Grammy. And, uh, if he shows—”
“I’ll leave a message for you. Don’t worry, sweetie.”
“Thanks. Talk soon.”
After they disconnected, he sent his mom a text, letting her know he’d landed and was on his connecting plane already. Then he shut his phone off and wolfed down his wraps. When the flight attendant took the garbage for him, he tried to decide if he should try the whiskey again. He figured it couldn’t hurt and asked for a couple before they took off.
TANNER MANAGED to nap again, but not as long as last time. It’d taken six of those little whiskey bottles to relax him enough to pass out. But it was barely over an hour into the flight before he was awake. And he didn’t trust trying to drink more at that point.
He used the tiny postage-stamp bathroom, then took the opportunity to stretch his legs a bit. He was trying not to let the confines of the plane get to him, but with almost two hours left, he was already going a little crazy. He took two slow trips the entire length of the plane, but when he got back to first class, the flight attendant was giving him the stink eye, so he took his seat again.
It would have been foolish to even open the window shade—he shuddered to think what his wolf’s reaction would be to that—so he eyed his backpack. He knew better than to try to work, so he dug out the little e-reader his mom lent him. He paged through the book titles and nearly laughed out loud at one cover with wolves. He decided on a Stephen King novel about zombies and cell phones, and settled in to try to ignore the plane for a while.
He was sure the book was good, but every time he tried to get lost in it, his brain went back to Finley. He wondered where Finley was, what he was doing. Was he okay? He gave the book up after a chapter and stowed the reader back in his backpack. He closed his eyes and brought Finley’s image to mind.
The sharp ache hit him so hard, it stole his breath for a moment. Those big green eyes, the black hair that seemed to never be quite tame, the full lips he’d fantasized about for two long years. Gods, he missed his mate so much. He swore when he found Finley, he’d do whatever it took to make things right. None of his fears equaled this. None of his fears were worth putting them through this.
Chapter Ten
HEAVY PAWS thudded onto the carpet of pine needles, leaves, and ferns. Finley didn’t care about stealth, wasn’t worried about anything that might try to hurt him. His instincts would warn him if danger was nearby.
He wanted—needed—speed. That was all that mattered.
With another burst of energy, he poured it on, leaping lightly over fallen trees or rocks he found in his way. He had no idea how far he’d traveled—the wolf didn’t measure distance. He didn’t even have a good gauge of time. He’d been running, full tilt, for at least most of one full sun cycle and then some, but he didn’t keep track in any way more specific than that.
He’d stopped long enough to sleep when his body nearly collapsed. When he’d awakened, though, he’d been on his paws and going again. He’d picked off a hare because his instincts demanded fuel, but then he was moving once more, paying no more attention to how far or how long than before.
All he knew was the need to go, to move, and to cross the distance he needed to cross.
He paused long enough to drink from the stream, then kept moving. As the sun started its descent, his instincts reminded him to refuel, and he caught another rabbit and a squirrel before he moved again. When the sun was close to the horizon, he gave in and found a quiet spot in a shallow cave to rest.
He couldn’t let himself sleep long, though. While the wolf didn’t keep track of distance, there was enough human in him to know he had to keep going for a good while yet. The need to go and move still thrummed through him, but his eyes slid closed as exhaustion claimed him.
IF TANNER never saw another plane again in his life, it would be too soon. When he stumbled off the tiny puddle jumper he’d ridden from Portland to Pendleton, he thought for sure he was going to lose the fight with his wolf and shift right there in front of the gods and everyone else. Through sheer force of will—and, he was sure, a bit of Diana’s help—he managed to collect his bags and make it to the car rental counter.
He took just enough time to call his parents and let them know he was safely on the ground, and then Finley’s grandparents to report the same.
“Alpha Todd is here, dear,” Grammy informed him, “to help make things go faster. A number of our pack members, including his beta, are waiting.”
Tanner took a breath. “Thank you, Grammy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Drive safely. You’re no good to Finley if you’re hurt.”
“Yeah, I’ll be careful. See you soon.”
Too many signatures and answered questions later, he finally had the key to the rental car. Bags stowed in the trunk, he slid behind the wheel and reminded himself he’d only be delayed by speeding too much. Getting pulled over meant that much longer before he could go look for his mate.
Even with the urgency pushing him, he pulled off when he saw the Taco Bell sign, figuring he could get a few soft tacos or something. He didn’t need to waste the time he spent looking for Finley hunting instead. As he pulled off the interstate and saw the Starbucks, he decided a boost of caffeine wouldn’t hurt either. A few minutes later, he was back on the interstate, thanking Bacchus for caffeine and reminding himself to not speed.
He was sure the scenery he drove by was beautiful, but couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to any of it. He was too busy watching his speed and the side of the road for dead—he gulped—animals. Or keeping an eye out to make sure none ran across the road. He didn’t think Finley would try to cross an interstate in wolf form, much less during the day, but he wasn’t taking chances.
He made it to the exit for La Grande without seeing anything and without incident, for which he was grateful. He again thought if anything had happened to Finley, he’d know. He had to rely on that, had to believe that. Otherwise he’d lose his shit for sure, and he wasn’t ready for that.
It took him a couple of wrong turns before he found the road to the Logans’ place. Finally, he found the driveway and followed it to a circular end in front of a long two-story house. Half a dozen SUVs and Jeeps were parked along the drive. Two smaller buildings sat off to the side, but the main house took his focus. It could have been there for a hundred years. The house itself appeared to be built out of real logs, though if that was the case, it’d long since been modernized. Either way, it certainly looked original. Tanner realized he had no idea how old Finley’s grandparents were, so it may well be close to that.
He climbed out of the car, but before he could even get onto the porch, the front door opened and a lady that looked barely older than his own parents stepped out. There was no mistaking her. She was a female version of Finley, though she looked slightly older. She could have been anywhere from fifty to eighty, or even a little older. He only hoped he looked as good in forty years.
She watched him as he stepped up onto the porch and swallowed, his throat dry in his nervousness. The full weight of what he was facing hit him hard—the idea that he might not find Finley and the panic he’d been fighting reared up again. He struggled to keep his emotions contained; he didn’t have time to give in to them. He could when he had his mate with him again. Then he could fall apart.
“Mrs. Logan,” he began, with no idea what to say, so caught up in the emotion and panic, he’d forgotten to call her Grammy.
She just pulled him into a hug. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll find him,” she soothed.
He took a deep breath a
nd nodded, hugging her back harder than he probably should. “I… I hope so.”
They separated and she studied his face. “When was the last time you slept?”
He frowned. “I napped on the plane.”
She shook her head. “Oh, dear, that won’t do. You need to rest.”
He shook his own head. “I can’t, Mrs.—”
“Grammy,” she corrected him.
“I can’t, Grammy, not… not until I find him.”
She smiled and nodded. “I understand. Come meet my mate and Alpha Todd. Then we’ll see what we can figure out.”
He pulled open the door for her and followed her into a great open room. It stretched both stories, with a huge stone fireplace, currently lit. Stairs rose to the second floor on his right, and over a counter to his left, he could see the kitchen. A man who looked much like Finley, only bigger and with blue eyes, stepped forward. “Tanner, it’s nice to meet you. Call me Grandpaw.”
Tanner smiled at the stress on the paw and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too. Thank you for—”
He waved a hand. “You’re my grandson’s mate. Of course. This is Alpha Todd Marshall,” he said, turning to another man next to him.
Tanner couldn’t quite keep himself from blinking at the alpha. He had silver at his temples and threaded through his hair. Tanner could only imagine how old the man had to be to actually have that. He took the offered hand and tilted his head to the side, showing his neck in respect. “Alpha, Tanner Pearce. Thank you for your help.”
“You’re very welcome. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve met your father a time or two at the conference. He always struck me as a fair and strong alpha.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tanner said, smiling a little.
Todd shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
Tanner looked at the last person in the room. His wolf stirred, unhappy at being faced with the one his wolf thought of as a rival. He looked to be almost the exact same size as Finley and just as lean as Finley was. Tanner knew better than to underestimate someone like that, though—his own mate was plenty strong. His wolf prowled just below the surface, wanting to take care of the one competing for Finley’s affections.
Devotion Page 12