by Lynn Hagen
This shit was not cool. Mason hated feeling panicked. He hated not feeling in control. Those were feelings he was not used to handling. This was so far out of his realm of knowledge that Mason wanted to quickly get Ian to Rick and be done with it.
But he still felt Ian should get better medical care. The guy had had a seizure. Didn’t that mean anything to anyone? Mason grunted in irritation as he started the truck and backed out of the road he was on, heading in the direction he needed.
“Are we there?” Ian asked as he pulled the blankets down just enough to see the road. His deep blue eyes were glancing at the road sign as Mason passed it.
“It’ll be a few hours.” Mason was surprised that Ian was coherent enough to talk. “Are you comfortable sitting there with the injuries on your backside?” Mason wanted to make sure Ian wasn’t in any pain. It was a long ride to where they were going.
Ian shrugged and then glanced over at him, and Mason could see that slip of uncertainty creeping back into the man’s eyes. The look made Mason think that Ian was trying to figure him out, but he wasn’t sure. The expression wasn’t fully developed, as if Ian was trying to hide the fact that he was puzzled.
He reached up and turned the radio on, scanning the stations until he found some light jazz to listen to. It was something he liked to relax to once in a while, and right now, Ian could use something easy to listen to. Hopefully it would relax him enough not to seize again.
The tune was lulling, helping Mason to settle his nerves after the scene with the cop and then Ian’s seizure. He wasn’t sure if he could handle much more excitement today.
“What is that?” Ian asked.
“What, jazz?”
Ian shook his head. “No, I know what jazz is. They play the stuff in the doctor’s office. I mean the melody.”
“Chris Botti. The song is called ‘Ever Since We Met.’” He was one of Mason’s favorite artists. In Mason’s opinion, the guy was a genius on the trumpet. And it didn’t hurt that he thought the guy was stunning in looks.
“I like it.” Ian settled deeper into the seat as the smooth music filled the truck and provided a tranquil atmosphere.
“Have you ever had a seizure before?” Mason had sensed Ian slowly slipping into calmness and decided now was a good time to bring up the subject.
“Once or twice,” Ian answered as if he really didn’t want to talk about it.
“Do you have any idea what brings them on?”
Ian turned his gaze toward Mason and then pulled the blanket tight to his body. “I’m tired.”
He let the subject go by the wayside for now. Mason was pretty sure Ian would be questioned once they were back at the safe house. He knew he needed to tell Freedman this hadn’t been Ian’s first time. Mason still didn’t like that the human couldn’t see a doctor, but he knew the reason Rick was being reluctant.
Mason glanced at Ian’s absolute stillness and knew it for a lie. He could scent the fear coming from the small human. Ian was terrified to be with Mason, or maybe it was going back to his brother.
Whatever the case, the scent insulted his jaguar and made it want to protect Ian with fierceness, and that thought terrified Mason to his soul.
Chapter Five
Rick met Mason in the driveway of the home that was being lent to them by one of the weretigers. They finally made it to Breckenridge, Colorado, but the tigers had taken care of the changeling mercenaries that had been going after the weregeese.
Dorian had paced their bedroom nonstop when he learned Ian had a seizure. His mate was going out of his mind with worry.
“How is he?” Rick asked when Mason got out the truck.
“He hasn’t seized anymore, but he has slept most of the way.” Mason came around the truck and opened the passenger door. Rick spotted Ian. He was even smaller than Rick remembered him. The guy had lost some serious weight.
Dorian’s brother looked so fragile, so helpless that Rick’s heart went out to him.
“I stopped once to take care of the wounds on his backside.” Mason lifted Ian from the seat with surprising gentleness and wrapped the blanket tighter around the human’s body. Rick tried to take Ian from Mason, but the jaguar changeling skirted around Rick and made his way to the back of the house.
“What wounds on his back?” Rick asked as he followed. Nate hadn’t told him about any wounds, and Mason hadn’t mentioned anything either when he called to tell Rick about the seizure.
Mason stopped on the back porch and turned toward Rick. His face held so much anger. His words were heated and filled with outrage. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him besides being a fang addict, but someone has seriously abused this guy. He’s fucking naked and has whip marks from nape to ankles. Some are old, some are fairly fresh, but healing.”
“Let’s talk inside,” Rick said as he waved a hand toward the door. “I had a room set up for him upstairs. Take him up there. Freedman will be in to look at him.”
“He needs a doctor, Rick. A real doctor. You should have seen him. He was just standing there, staring off into space, and then he dropped and started seizing. That isn’t normal.” The werejaguar’s words were biting, demanding.
“Take him upstairs, Mason. You were asked to pick him up and bring him here. Your job is done.” His words were staccato, perfectly enunciated. Rick was not about to stand here and be dressed down by Mason. The man was looking at Rick like it was his fault that this happened to Ian, and that just pissed him off. “If you don’t like the way I’m running things or the decisions I make, you are free to leave at any time.”
Rick noticed Mason’s hands gripping around Ian tighter. “I’m just saying he needs to be seen by a professional.” Mason’s tone had lost its edge, softening, the aggressiveness toning down, but his eyes were still twin blazes of blue fire. “He’s sick.”
Rick folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the railing. “I know, Mason.” Rick’s tone had gentled as well. “But as much as I want to make sure he is properly taken care of, we are in a fucked-up situation. If Ian goes to any hospital and they find out he’s Dorian’s brother, the shit will hit the fan. Ian won’t be safe. I’m not trying to be a bastard here, but I have to look at the big picture. I have to think three or four moves ahead. That’s the only way we are going to stay safe and accomplish what we’ve set out to do.”
Mason nodded and opened the back door, heading inside. The guy was being very overprotective of Ian. Rick had a feeling it was more than just concern for the small human’s health. He walked inside and went in search of Freedman. The soldier had minimal medical training, but at least he could check Ian over. It rattled Rick that he couldn’t send Ian to the hospital, but again, Ian wouldn’t be safe if Rick did.
He found Freedman in the living room, watching Omar look over the expansive bookshelves that ran along one whole wall. Rick stood there for a moment, watching Freedman’s facial expression.
The man looked…enamored.
Even though Omar had been one of Rick’s candidates, and Rick had chosen Dorian, that didn’t mean he didn’t care about Omar. He knew Omar’s homelife wasn’t warm and happy as most changelings’ lives were. Omar’s parents were scholars—just as Omar was—and treated him with aloofness. They didn’t coddle or give their son the affection and touch changelings craved. They demanded he be the best, and Rick knew Omar made up for the lack of affection in books.
The man lost himself in them.
But the small werewolf deserved someone who would understand him and treat him right. Omar was stunning in looks with his short blond hair and pale blue eyes. Rick still thought the man belonged on a runway in Milan.
Whoever mated Omar would be one lucky man. Of course, they would also have to get past Omar’s obsessive need to talk. But since joining Rick, he had noticed the trait had withered away.
Freedman’s eyes snapped over to Rick.
“Ian is here. Mason took him upstairs.”
Freedman gave a tight nod as he
left the living room, giving one last glance to Omar.
Rick wasn’t sure if Freedman knew that Omar didn’t really care for humans. Then he wondered if Freedman knew and just didn’t care. It would be one hell of a thing to watch Freedman woo Omar.
Rick watched the blond werewolf grab a book from the shelf and take a seat. He sighed as he spun on his heel and walked out. He really hoped Omar found love.
Climbing the steps, Rick was met on the top landing by his mate.
“Ian is here.” He followed Rick to the bedroom he had set up for Dorian’s younger brother.
“I know, gatito. We are going to try and do everything we can to help him.” Rick knew Dorian was worried sick about Ian, but the man also didn’t understand Ian. Dorian couldn’t grasp his brother’s submissive nature, nor could he understand that Ian wasn’t a bad man just because he was an addict.
He knew having Dorian spend time around his brother just might better his understanding.
Or they could try and kill each other.
“Thank you,” Dorian replied as he walked into the bedroom behind Rick. Mason was rolling Ian to his back, removing the blankets with grim determination setting his jaw firm. His hands moved gently, and Rick knew Mason was trying to minimize the pain of Ian’s wounds.
“Jesus,” Dorian whispered. “Who did that—did the vampires do that to him?”
“Nobody knows for sure,” Mason answered without taking his eyes away from his task. “But we need to get them cleaned and treated. I did what I could on the road, but he needs to have them irrigated and properly tended.”
“And his seizure?” Dorian asked, but didn’t move any closer to the bed. He just stood there, gazing at Ian’s back with a mixture of pity and repulsion on his face.
“Ian told me that it wasn’t his first attack.” Mason stepped aside, allowing Freedman to move closer to examine the small human.
“But”—Dorian snapped his head up to Rick—“he’s never had a seizure before.”
“Apparently he has had a few since we last saw him, gatito.”
“How will they affect him?” Dorian glanced at Ian once more, and Rick could see the worry in his mate’s Peruvian-brown eyes. He could also scent the sadness enveloping his mate. “Will his mental state deteriorate?”
Rick slid his arm over Dorian’s shoulder, nudging his mate closer, kissing his temple. “I’m not sure. But whatever happens, we’ll take care of him. He’s family,” he said gently against Dorian’s hair, wishing he could give his mate the answers he seemed desperate to have.
“But even if we take care of him”—Dorian pulled away from Rick, his eyes turning dark—“that still won’t stop him from his perversions.”
“They’re not perversions,” Mason snapped from the side of the bed.
“What do you know?” Dorian asked in a clipped tone. “You don’t even know him.”
Mason’s eyes flickered down to Ian, his jaw setting. “No, I don’t. But I’m beginning to understand him.”
“What’s there to understand?” Dorian argued. “He’s addicted to vampires biting him and he likes to get beaten up. How in the hell can anyone understand that?”
“Take this discussion elsewhere,” Freedman said evenly, but with force. “Right now Ian needs rest and time to heal. He doesn’t need to wake up hearing what his brother thinks of him.”
“Maybe he does,” Dorian shot back. “Maybe he needs to know this”—he waved a hand at Ian’s prone body—“isn’t normal.”
Freedman gazed at Rick for help. Mason just stood there staring at Dorian with anger-filled eyes. Rick would do anything to protect his mate, to defend him in any matter, but Freedman was right. Dorian shouldn’t be in here right now.
“Let’s go, gatito. We’ll debate the moral standing of this situation later.” Much later if Rick could help it.
Dorian glanced at each of them and turned, storming from the room. Rick watched him go and wondered how he was going to help his mate in this delicate situation.
“Mason,” Rick said as he walked toward the bedroom door, “can you look after Ian while he heals?” He would have asked Freedman, but for one, he needed Freedman. Rick, Sasha, and the human soldier had plans to make.
Two, it seemed Mason wasn’t leaving Ian’s side. He had a feeling Mason would be the perfect caretaker.
“Yeah.” Mason nodded. “I got it.”
Rick left to find his mate. He knew Dorian wasn’t a close-minded person, but this situation involved his younger brother and he knew Dorian was having a hard time coming to grips with what was going on.
But if Dorian didn’t to try and at least open his mind to what Ian was going through, he was going to lose his brother.
Rick found Dorian in their bedroom, staring out of the window. His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyes focused on whatever was outside.
He moved closer, pulling Dorian into his arms. His mate was stiff at first, but then he wrapped his arms around Rick’s waist, holding on to him tightly. “I love him, Rick. But I can’t comprehend why he likes being beaten.”
Tilting his mate’s head back, Rick stared down into his gorgeous eyes. “It will take time. Trust me. Just because you don’t understand him, doesn’t make him a bad person.”
Dorian looked as if he were truly struggling with what Rick had just said. He cupped both sides of Dorian’s face, giving him a gentle smile. “Just don’t be too hard on him.”
Sighing, Dorian pulled from Rick’s hand and rested his head against Rick’s chest. “I’ll try.”
“That’s all anyone can ask.” Rick ran his hand over Dorian’s head, hoping that he and his brother could work out their problems. Ian was going through enough and Rick knew how much Dorian loved his brother.
Hell, he had shot a vampire and went up against a master vampire to rescue Ian.
Dorian just had a problem understanding what Ian needed.
His mate ran his hands up Rick’s sides, tilting his head back and giving him a knowing look. It was a look Rick was all too familiar with now.
Rick bent his head and grazed his lips over his mate’s, inhaling his woodsy scent. Rick kissed him without warning, taking his time with those full, bitable lips that always managed to drive him crazy.
When Dorian tried to pull back, Rick grabbed him by the nape of his neck and held him in place. Dorian glanced up at him, his eyes filled with hesitancy.
“Give yourself to me, gatito. Don’t pull away.”
Dorian gave a slight nod, pushing back into Rick’s arms. He gathered Dorian to him, pulling the man up into his arms.
His mate smiled, wrapping his legs around Rick’s waist as Rick walked them to the bed. Once he had Dorian on his back, Rick devoured Dorian’s lips, tasting, teasing, and drinking in Dorian’s unique flavor.
“God, I need you,” Dorian said as he pulled back from the kiss, yanking on the end of Rick’s shirt.
Rick leaned back and pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor as Dorian removed his. His body felt like it was on fire when their bare chests smoothed against each other.
“It feels like forever since I had you,” Rick said as he unsnapped Dorian’s pants and slid them down his mate’s body. His mouth watered when he saw how hard Dorian’s cock was.
Leaning forward, Rick mouthed his mate through his underwear. Dorian groaned and bucked, pushing his fabric-covered shaft further into Rick’s mouth.
Rick grinned, bit down with just a small bit of force, and then shoved his fingers in the waistband, relieving his mate of his clothing.
“Please tell me you plan on sucking my cock,” Dorian said as he writhed on the bed.
Rick slipped from the bed, shoving his jeans from his body. “I plan on sucking and fucking you.” Rick felt his heart race when Dorian palmed his cock, giving it a nice stroking as his eyes raked over Rick’s body.
Climbing back onto the bed, Rick braced his hands on either side of Dorian’s head, gazing down his mate’s slim and
sexy body. He licked his lips, his mouth actually aching to suck Dorian off.
“What are you waiting on?”
Rick raised his head, staring right at his mate. “I just wanted to take a moment to appreciate what fate has given me.”
Dorian blushed, which was so rare for the man that Rick could only smile. But it was the stark truth. Dorian was breathtakingly beautiful in his eyes. No man could hold a candle to his mate.
Dorian’s eyes turned to liquid night as he slowly moved down his mate’s body, drinking in the man’s skin with his lips. He kissed his way down, feeling his mate slightly tremble with every touch, every kiss, and every nip.
Glancing up, Rick saw that Dorian’s eyes had fluttered closed, his lips slightly parting as his chest began to rise and fall in small pants. Using his tongue, Rick teased the flesh around his mate’s navel, feeling the muscles in Dorian’s stomach quiver.
The flat planes felt smooth under Rick’s tongue as he traced the small freckles his mate had dotting his flesh.
Dorian groaned, lifting his hips as his hands raked through Rick’s hair, giving the strands a slight tug.
Dorian’s eyes flashed open and they looked like smoldering flames of dark copper. Rick sucked in his breath at the beauty his mate presented and then swiftly engulfed the man’s cock. The taste of pre-cum exploded on Rick’s tongue and he became ravenous. He swallowed Dorian’s cock to the root, using his tongue to trace the veins as he reached up and massaged his mate’s sac.
The heels of Dorian’s feet pressed into Rick’s back, his mate’s hips gyrating as Rick sucked the hard cock in and out of his mouth. Slipping a finger inside his mouth, Rick used his saliva to soak the digit before easing it into Dorian’s ass.
His mate jerked, pulling harder at Rick’s hair. Dorian’s length pistoned inside Rick’s mouth, fucking it hard as Rick stretched the man’s ass, readying it for his cock.
Dorian’s back bowed as he damn near ripped Rick’s hair out, hot cum shooting to the back of Rick’s throat. He licked and sucked until he had consumed every drop, and then he removed his fingers from Dorian’s ass.