Porpoiseful Intent [Placida Pod 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Tymber Dalton

  “I’m sorry.” It finally sank in he’d really crossed a line he hadn’t even recognized was there. “I mean it. I’m sorry. But look at it from my point of view. I love you, and he nearly killed you once.”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t kill me. And since I’m the one he tried to kill, by all rights I should have a say in what happens to the asshole. We do this as a team. Together. Got it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Together. I’m sorry.”

  Sean took a deep breath. “I know you are.” He glanced in the mirror before pulling back onto the road. “I know your heart’s in the right place, but I worry about you just as much as you worry about me. Maybe even more.” He focused on the road for a while. Then he broke the silence again. “It’s not like I can be out there on the water with you all the time. Even if I’m out there in a boat, I’m not with you, get it? And now all this bullshit. I know humans are probably more dangerous than most stuff you’d normally face out in the water, but at least I can go head-to-head with another human. I can’t protect you when you’re out on the water.”

  Emery hadn’t thought about it like that. He reached over and laid a hand on Sean’s thigh. “You don’t have to protect me,” he gently said.

  “You don’t have to protect me, either.” He glanced at Emery, then back to the road. “I just want to be treated like an equal. A partner.”

  Emery squeezed his thigh. “Deal.” Sean’s hand closed over his, lacing his fingers through Emery’s.

  * * * *

  Sean spent the drive up to Sarasota stewing about Erik. So close, and we still can’t get the fucker. Wyatt called to let them know Erik had been loaded in a truck and was on his way to Mote. Denby and the early scouts thought they’d figured out how Erik would be transferred into the complex, but they weren’t sure.

  “So we just sit around and wait for him to escape again?” Sean asked.

  Joseph shook his head. “We’ll have people watching the facility around the clock. If we can’t get him during the transfer, we’ll wait until they release him and ambush him then. Once he’s inside their tanks, he won’t dare try to shift and escape.”

  They watched from a park next door to the marine mammal facility as the caravan of vehicles turned onto Ken Thompson Parkway and headed toward the building. A gate opened and the large truck drove in, followed by several cars and the news van.

  “That’s it, then,” Joseph said. “He’s there for the duration.” He looked at everyone. “I don’t want any of you going in there and trying anything, either. Not unless you clear it through me. Understand? I won’t lose anyone else. We’ll get him when they release him. It’ll take their vets a few days to clear him. I’ll have people watching around the clock.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Sam protested.

  “It has to be.” Joseph squeezed his shoulder. “Believe me, I want him dead as much as you do. But any of us getting arrested for it won’t help.”

  * * * *

  Erik tried not to panic, but the few glimpses he got of the area as the volunteers lifted the sling he’d been put in and carried him toward the facility showed him no way to escape. If there was water close by, he could have tried flipping loose and rolling toward it, but the seawall was nearly twenty yards away.

  Dammit.

  He hadn’t been to Mote in years, and that was on two legs. He suspected they had sophisticated surveillance and security. More to keep people out than to keep dolphins in, but it would still work against him.

  As he was transferred, he tried to listen to the veterinarian and techs talking about his condition. He lay quietly while they drew blood samples and took his vital signs before gently releasing him into a small isolation tank. A tech in a shorty wetsuit stood in the water and observed him. He stayed away from her as much as possible while trying to spot any cameras. They mistook his slow rolling as a playful behavior. In truth, he was trying to see up into the girders supporting a metal roof high over the tanks.

  There was a camera. And another.

  Fuck.

  At least he was alive for the moment. And if he couldn’t get out, it meant Joseph and the other shifters couldn’t get in, either. Not without the law catching them. For the moment, they couldn’t do anything to him while he was there.

  * * * *

  Sean didn’t want to go home. He wanted to sit there and stake out Mote in case Erik tried to escape again.

  “Babe,” Emery coaxed, “we can’t. We have to go home. Dad’s got it under control. He’s going to make some calls and see if he can’t get someone in there up close and personal. He knows some of the bigwig donors there, people on the board.”

  That didn’t soothe Sean’s anger. “He’s going to get away again. You realize that, right?”

  “No, I don’t realize that. Please?”

  Reluctantly, Sean let Emery talk him into going home. Denby, Wyatt, and a few others would stay behind. Others would relieve them later on.

  By the next afternoon, Joseph had an answer from his contacts. “I found out they probably won’t keep him much longer than a week. Once they do tests on him and find out he’s physically okay, they’ll want to release him as soon as possible. All we have to do is wait him out.”

  Sean didn’t like that answer, but all he could do was wait.

  * * * *

  Erik got little sleep in the previous twenty-four hours. He knew the release was fast approaching, as was his last chance to get away. He knew the Mote staff were going to load him into a boat at the dock behind the facility and transport him out to the Gulf that way.

  He couldn’t let them get him in the boat. He had to get into the water as fast as he could and make his getaway. Joseph would have shifters following the boat and waiting for him at the release point.

  What could they do, arrest dolphins for killing another dolphin?

  He was fucked and he knew it.

  A little after dawn, techs and volunteers started gathering at the isolation tank. He spotted the sling they’d used to carry him into the facility. They didn’t have any straps fastening him to it, so as long as he could kick free, he should be able to roll out of the sling.

  He’d lulled them into a false sense of security with his calm, friendly behavior. When he went to nuzzle the hand of the head tech who’d supervised his daily care, she laughed.

  “We’re going to miss you, Buddy,” she said.

  Yeah, well, I won’t miss you, you fucking cunt.

  It seemed to take forever for them to get their act together, but they finally climbed down into the water with the sling. He obliged by swimming into it, eager to get the show on the road.

  Within ten minutes, he was being carried across the property and toward a boat waiting at the dock attached to Mote’s seawall.

  Finally!

  * * * *

  Sean nervously tapped his feet as he watched the Mote team carry Erik down to the dock.

  “Chill, man,” Wyatt said. “You’re not helping yourself.”

  Sam, Joseph, and Emery were waiting in Sam’s boat a few hundred yards away down the channel. Out in the Gulf, other shifters were already waiting in the water to pick up the chase. Joseph’s contacts had told him that Erik, or Buddy as Mote had dubbed him, would be fitted with a temporary tracking device right before his release. If nothing else, they could find him electronically.

  Sean didn’t feel a fraction of the shifters’ confidence. He suspected Erik would shift as soon as possible, ditch the tracker, and shift back to escape.

  I want that fucker dead.

  * * * *

  Erik forced himself to stay relaxed. He knew he couldn’t let them get him settled in the boat, or he was screwed. He waited until the people carrying the front of the sling stepped down off the seawall and onto the ramp leading to the dock.

  That’s when he made his move. Twisting, he violently slammed his fluke into the bottom of the sling, throwing the handlers off-balance and making one of the women in front lose her grip on the sling
’s frame. He caught the seawall on his way down, but that was minor compared to what would happen to him if the pod caught up with him.

  Ignoring the shouts of the humans behind him, he rolled and let out a cry of triumph when he hit the water.

  Immediately, he dove under and sprinted east, toward the deeper water of the channel.

  * * * *

  Sean watched the sudden flurry of commotion and then saw Erik bounce off the seawall and hit the water. “Fuck!” Sean cranked the engine and slammed the throttle forward. The boat lurched through the water, nearly throwing Wyatt off his feet.

  Wyatt grabbed the VHF radio mic and hailed Sam’s boat. “Move it. Now. He made a break for it.”

  Sean didn’t bother looking behind him to see if his dad was keeping up. He tried to track Erik’s movements, but before he could get close enough, the shifter found the deeper water in the channel and dove.

  He slowed, scanning the water for any sign of him. His dad’s boat flew past, up on plane, and Sean fell in behind him. He watched as Emery and Denby both dove out of the boat ahead of them, one on each side. Seconds later, one dolphin breached the surface before diving again.

  Sean slammed his fist against the console. “I fucking knew he was going to pull some shit. Son of a bitch!”

  “Calm down, Sean,” Wyatt said. He glanced behind them. “You need to slow down and hang back. We don’t need Fish and Wildlife pulling you over in a no-wake zone.” He pointed at the sign ahead, mounted on a channel marker post.

  “Fuck!” Sean backed off on the throttle, holding on so he didn’t lose his balance as the boat lifted and settled on the wake’s swell from the sudden de-acceleration.

  The radio crackled to life. “Hang back there, Sean,” Joseph said. “We’ve got this. You stay and watch in case he doubles back.”

  Wyatt reached over, turned off the engine, and pocketed the key. He turned his amber gaze on Sean. “It’s in their hands now. Y’all can’t do anything else. Let them take it from here.”

  * * * *

  Erik held his breath as long as he could. Then he veered out of the channel, toward a sailboat tied to a mooring buoy. Swimming around the backside of it, he shifted back to human form and barely brought his face above water while hugging the hull.

  As he gasped for breath he considered his options. He wasn’t free yet. He knew Emery and Denby were out there close by. He’d heard their chatters in the distance behind him. He’d stayed close to the bottom to try to avoid their echolocation. Worse, he didn’t know how many other shifters were out there, or how many boats.

  With his ears below the surface, he listened carefully as he heard Emery and Denby growing closer, their chattering and clicking louder. He held his breath, ignoring how barnacles on the sailboat’s hull cut his feet.

  Louder. Closer.

  He closed his eyes and waited.

  Then they passed him, a boat following close behind.

  He couldn’t believe it. While every nerve in his body screamed for him to make a break for it, he waited.

  And waited.

  Eventually, the sounds faded.

  Taking a chance, he shifted and headed back in the direction he’d come from, sticking to the channel’s bottom and moving fast. When he swam under the John Ringling Causeway, he veered toward land, skirting as close to shore as he could. Then he found Hudson Bayou and swam up it as far as he could before it grew too shallow.

  Finding a dock low to the water, he crawled under it, shifted back to human form, and crouched deep in the muck under the dock, concealed by the shadows and overgrown vegetation hanging down over the seawall.

  * * * *

  Emery didn’t want to give up the hunt. He knew Erik had to be close, couldn’t have made open water. He was hiding somewhere nearby. They brought in over thirty dolphin shifters who scoured the bay and surrounding waters with no success.

  After midnight, Wyatt and Sean finally talked Emery out of the water. Dejected and exhausted, he sat in the bow of Sean’s boat as they headed south back to Englewood.

  Sean didn’t try to talk to him. Emery didn’t blame him. He’d failed his mate and his pod.

  What kind of piss-poor Alpha will I be if I can’t take that fucker down?

  It didn’t matter what reassurances Sean had given him. It was how he felt.

  It wasn’t until they were at home and in the shower that Sean finally spoke. “Are you okay?”

  Emery dunked his head under the spray. “No.”

  He wasn’t prepared for Sean to grab him tightly and pull him close. “Dude, I’m not happy about him getting away, either. But we have to move on.”

  “He tried to kill you. He killed two innocent people. How many more have to die before we take him down?”

  “We can’t live our lives constantly looking over our shoulders. Then he’s won regardless of whether or not he comes back or stays away for good.”

  “How can we protect the superpod?”

  Sean firmly grabbed Emery’s face, cupping his cheeks with both hands and forcing him to look Sean in the eyes. “Dude, shut the frak up and listen to me. Your dad said there will be hundreds of shifters, more even. Guess what? Every damn one of them will be looking for Erik. More eyes. You think he’s stupid enough to try to take on that many dolphins at once? He’s already said kids and non-shifting mates will have to stay in boats. There will be so many frakking dolphins out there, Erik won’t stand a chance. I sort of hope he shows up for the superpod, quite honestly, because no way in hell can he escape if he’s that stupid.”

  Emery let his words sink in. He nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  “Hell yeah, I’m right. You know I am. We’re in this together, by the way. Don’t you dare start any of this pity bullshit. You did all you could do. Your father is the pod Alpha, by the way. I guaran-damn-tee you he’s feeling at least twice as bad as you do right now that Erik got away. Probably a lot more. He is responsible for the pod right now. So save some of that pity for him.”

  Emery let his head fall forward, his forehead touching Sean’s. “What would I do without you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. You’re stuck with me for life.”

  * * * *

  Erik remained under the dock most of the night. Before dawn he crept out, shifted into dolphin form, and made his way back to Sarasota Bay.

  Keeping to the bottom of the channel, he swiftly swam out to the Gulf of Mexico. He didn’t dare risk going south, back to the rented trailer in Placida.

  He did, however, have a plan. And as long as he could safely reach Mexico, it meant he’d still have a chance to get his revenge…and possibly even control of the Placida Pod.

  He headed west, swimming for his life.

  * * * *

  Three days later, Sean was out on a jobsite when his cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number and almost didn’t answer it. “Sean Morita.”

  With the caller’s initial hesitation, he thought the call had dropped before a woman spoke. “Sean, it’s Olivia.”

  Over the sound of road construction machinery, he wasn’t sure he’d heard the woman correctly. “Olivia?”

  “Emery’s sister. Can we talk?”

  He walked over to where his truck sat parked in the shade and closed the door, shutting out the worst of the noise. “What’s wrong?”

  “Can we meet somewhere to talk?”

  “I can’t drive over there right now, I’m sorry.”

  “I’m in Sarasota.”

  “You’re over here? I thought you and Barry had gone home.”

  “We did. But I drove over this morning. I’d like to talk with you. Alone. Please don’t tell Emery or my parents I’m here.”

  He couldn’t get any other answers out of her on the phone. They met nearly an hour later at a small café in downtown Sarasota, not too far from Sean’s jobsite. Olivia sat at a back corner table with a glass of what looked like iced tea in front of her. After the waitress took his order, Sean leaned in and took her han
ds. He didn’t need to be able to read her mind to see something deeply troubled her.

  “What’s going on? Why didn’t you want me to tell Emery or your parents you’re here? And does Brad know you’re here?”

  “Brad knows.” She took a deep breath. When her eyes met his, it looked like she’d been crying at some point in the not-too-distant past. “Tell me what it’s like,” she whispered.

  His brows drew together. “What what’s like?”

  “Having a mate-bond.”

  Alarm bells went off in his head. “Are you sure this is a conversation you want to be having with me?”

  “Please, Sean. You and Em are the only people I know, other than Alexis and Carter, who have it.”

  “Is this about the other day in my living room? Because I didn’t mean to put you two on the spot, but I wasn’t going to let anyone ramrod guilt down their—”

  She squeezed his hands. “Please.”

  He took a deep breath. “I can’t explain it. Take the love you feel for whoever you’ve romantically loved the most in your life and multiply it by infinity. Like you can’t even remember what it felt like loving someone else. Like he’s a part of me, part of my soul.” He let his eyes drift to their hands, where they were clasped on the table. “Like if he died, I wouldn’t want to live. Wouldn’t know how to live.”

  Gazing into her eyes again, he continued. “But just because you don’t have a mate-bond with someone doesn’t mean you can’t love them and spend the rest of your life with them. You love Brad, right?”

  “Yes. But Alexis thought she loved George, too.”

  “No. She didn’t just think it. She did love him. Whatever whacky magic stirs up when a mate-bond forms between people is like hitting the Powerball numbers. You can’t regret your choices in life about who to love just because you don’t have a mate-bond.”