Patience

by Grace R. Duncan

  Jamie laughed. Yup. Full wolf, pup. Our emotions too. They seem….

  Clearer. More defined. I know what’s yours and what’s mine. Chad grinned. I like the telepathy.

  Me too. Jamie grinned. This will come in really handy when I’m in wolf form on a job.

  Chad laughed. He nuzzled Jamie’s neck, kissing it lightly. His cock still pulsed faintly inside Jamie.

  How’s your wolf?

  Chad tilted his head, looking thoughtful. Content, for the moment. I don’t think that’ll last. I feel… like a… little kid or….

  A pup? Jamie grinned.

  Chad laughed again and nodded. Yeah. Like a pup. I have so much to learn.

  That’s okay. I’ll be right here to help you.

  Think you can be patient enough with me while I work through it? Chad bit a lip, and Jamie ran his finger over it.

  Yeah. I’m pretty sure we’ve learned that lesson, don’t you think?

  Chad chuckled. I do. Besides… we have our entire lives ahead of us. A lot of years to do things together.

  Jamie grinned. I can’t wait.

  Epilogue

  QUINCY GLARED at the emergency room entrance of Presbyterian Hospital for more than fifteen minutes before, with a huff, he climbed out of his car and slammed the door. He handed his keys over to the valet and waited impatiently for the ticket before heading inside, eyes still fixed to the door leading into the emergency room itself.

  He’d seen the red hair pass several times. Quincy knew he was in there, knew he was working.

  He just didn’t know why he was here.

  That wasn’t entirely true. He was drawn to Miles Grant. He didn’t like it, but he suspected, deep down, he knew what it was. He told himself he didn’t want it, told himself it was ridiculous.

  Yet he was here.

  He took slow, measured steps to the check-in desk and drew in a deep breath. He shouldn’t have. His nose twitched when it was assaulted with antiseptic and all the other horrible hospital smells. He had no idea how Miles dealt with it all the time. He wrinkled his nose, then forced himself to speak to the receptionist.

  “Hello. Quincy Archer to see Dr. Miles Grant.”

  She smiled at him, and he supposed she would be considered pretty. “Sure thing! Just a moment, please,” she said, picking up her phone and dialing a few numbers.

  Quincy waited, albeit impatiently, gaze locked on the doorway. When the red hair appeared, attached to the long, lanky frame, Quincy flat out refused to recognize his heart skipping a beat. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose.

  Miles stepped through the doorway, looking down at a chart in his hand. His nostrils flared, his head whipped up, and Quincy caught the slightest glimpse of Miles’s blue eyes shifting to black before he closed them. Miles took several shallow breaths, then opened his now once again normal eyes. “Quincy.”

  That was all, but the way Miles said it, his name in that man’s voice, did things to Quincy that he couldn’t begin to explain. He’d never felt anything like this before and it frustrated and… fascinated him. And cats and fascination were a bad combination.

  He cleared his throat. “Hello, Miles. I, uh… why am I here?”

  Miles blinked at him and looked around quickly. He tilted his head toward an empty corner of the waiting room.

  When they’d moved, Quincy took another deep breath. Quincy had been doing his best not to smell Miles. Nothing in all his life had ever smelled as good as Miles Grant did, and he didn’t like it. But ever since seeing Miles at Chad and Jamie’s apartment a week ago, it’d been driving him crazy. He had to have that scent again.

  Oddly, he didn’t smell the antiseptic or the other medical odors he would have expected. Instead, he got pine, warmth, and a scent that made him think of fresh mountain air.

  “I think you know, Quincy,” Miles replied quietly.

  Quincy started to shake his head, then stopped himself and sighed. “We don’t believe in mates.”

  “Is that what your Bastet says?”

  Quincy frowned. “Bastet?”

  Miles raised a single red eyebrow. “Isn’t she responsible for your mates? Like Diana is for us?”

  Quincy blinked. “Fine, yes, she is. And she says she does, but… they’re rare, Miles. Extremely rare.” He made a face. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t believe she’d mate me with a dog.” As soon as he said it, he winced. Miles’s expression closed in and Quincy found himself—for the first time in probably forever—wanting to soothe another person. Wanting to touch another person. Before he could stop himself, he reached out and put a hand on Miles’s arm. “I’m… I shouldn’t have said that.”

  Miles shrugged. “I can’t believe Diana gave me a cat.”

  “No, look, I….” Quincy dropped his hand and frowned. “I’m bad news right now, maybe always. My father is still pressuring me to take over my pride. I have to hide. I don’t know if I can ever not hide.”

  Miles frowned. “Why? Can’t you just tell him to buzz off?”

  Quincy actually laughed. “I already did. He’s not listening. I have to disappear—more, again. He won’t stop. I can’t be mated to you. I’m sorry.” He backed up, shaking his head at the expression on Miles’s face. Pain—obvious, hard pain. A stab went through Quincy’s heart.

  “Wait,” Miles said stepping forward. “Just… just don’t, uh, don’t decide anything.”

  Quincy stopped and blinked. “What?”

  “Don’t, uh, don’t make a conscious decision to reject me. Please.”

  Quincy frowned. “Why?”

  Miles swallowed and reached out, but let his hand drop. “It hurts. Physically. If you consciously reject me.” He looked away, his hand tightening around the chart he still held.

  “Hurts?”

  Miles nodded. “Yeah. When a destined mate is rejected, it honestly, physically hurts.”

  “Are… have we… are we bonded already?” Quincy stared with wide eyes.

  Miles shook his head. “No. We’re linked—that happens as soon as we see each other—but, no. We have to, uh, do more to start the bonding process.”

  Quincy nodded. “I see. Look, you don’t want me, Miles. I’m bad news. Find a handsome boy wolf and be happy.” He wondered why his stomach was twisting as he said those words.

  Miles smiled, though it was painful to watch and obviously lacking in any sort of humor. “That won’t work for me. Can I help you? Is there something I can do?”

  Quincy shook his head. “No. If… if you were near me, it could even be dangerous. My father is a bit ruthless.”

  “I’m not afraid of a cat,” Miles said, scowling.

  Quincy found himself chuckling. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that. I have no doubt you’re a strong wolf, but my father is the equivalent of your alpha, Miles. He’d tear through just about anyone. He scares me.”

  The scowl deepened. “I don’t care. I’ll deal with it for my m—” He glanced over Quincy’s shoulder, then back and lowered his voice. “My mate. Don’t go, Quincy.”

  Quincy started backing up again. “I can’t stay. I’ll… look, I’ll, uh, I’ll call. I’ll find you. If you really need me, Chad has my number. But… if you can find someone….”

  “Don’t say it, please,” Miles said, and Quincy couldn’t miss the begging tone.

  That made Quincy stop. He took another deep breath, inhaling Miles’s scent. He closed his eyes briefly, though he doubted he’d ever forget it. His cat wanted him to forget this bullshit, flip Miles around, and bury his teeth in the man’s neck. It took all Quincy had to ignore it. He opened his eyes, knowing they were black and letting Miles see it. “All right. I won’t say that. But… I have to go. Good-bye.”

  MILES WATCHED his mate practically run out of the emergency room, helpless to stop him. He dropped onto a nearby chair and propped his head in his hands. He couldn’t miss Quincy inhaling his scent. He had seen, very clearly, Quincy’s eyes change.

  The man wanted him. His mate wanted him, reco
gnized him, what they were to each other. He’d have bet his medical license Quincy’s cat recognized them as its mate.

  He wasn’t rejected. Quincy hadn’t outright rejected him. He had no fucking clue what to do with a cat, but he’d have to figure it out. Diana had given him Quincy for a reason. He’d just have to deal with it.

  I’ll call. I’ll find you.

  It was going to kill him to sit and wait for Quincy to come back, but he’d do it. He didn’t have much choice.

  He wasn’t about to walk away from his destined mate.

  Exclusive Excerpt

  Acceptance

  Forbes Mates: Book Three

  Dr. Miles Grant acknowledges that his destined mate could be either gender even though his bisexuality cost him his family and his pack. Luckily he found the Forbes Pack, who happily accept him just as he is. What he never counted on was finding his mate in Pittsburgh or for his mate to be another species entirely—a cat!

  Quincy Archer isn’t just any jaguar shifter. He is the heir to the leadership of his pride. Destined mates are nothing but legend to the nearly extinct and generally solitary jaguars, and Quincy certainly never expected to find one for himself, much less a male… or a wolf.

  However, finding each other and coming to terms with their species is the least of their worries. Quincy is expected to select a proper female mate, father a cub, and take his place as heir to the pride. Except Quincy refuses, having no interest in women or leadership and knowing he isn’t right for it. But his father will stop at nothing—not even attempting to kill Miles—to get his way. Quincy and Miles must overcome many obstacles to stay together as the destined mates they’re meant to be.

  Chapter 1

  QUINCY KNEW they were there. It didn’t take a preternatural sense of smell or hearing to pick them out. He wasn’t sure if he should be offended they thought his senses were that dull, amused because they seemed that inept… or perhaps annoyed because they were so sure of themselves and their abilities that they didn’t have to hide.

  He wondered why they weren’t suppressing their scent. He was fairly certain everyone in the jaguar world knew Pittsburgh had a pretty big number of wolves. Did that mean they were willing to fight—and possibly kill—any wolves they came across?

  That thought brought a scowl to Quincy’s face. Entirely aside from his new… appreciation… of the wolves, picking a fight with them would cause all sorts of problems, not the least of which might actually involve starting an interspecies war. And while he might still feel rather disdainful about most of the wolves out there, there were a choice few he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to.

  Quincy sighed and took another sip of his latte. He really was not interested in getting into a fight. Since there were only two of them, it would be pretty easy to give them the slip. He needed to do it carefully, however, because he wanted to draw them away from Pittsburgh, if at all possible.

  For one thing, Miles was still working in the Presby ER. Chad and his new mate, Jamie, still lived in the Oakland apartment—though they’d been away for a while. With any luck Quincy could get the two jaguars out of town before any of his wolves got dragged into a fight because, for reasons Quincy didn’t quite understand, they’d come to his rescue. And while he’d hang himself before admitting it out loud to them, he liked them and didn’t want them hurt.

  He downed the last of his latte and stood, gathering his laptop and stuffing it in his messenger bag, then packing the rest of his things. The idiots loitered across the street, in front of the Primanti Brothers, trying to appear inconspicuous and failing. Neither of them looked even remotely like a college student or medical professional, which was what made up the biggest chunk of people in Oakland.

  Shaking his head, Quincy hitched his bag over his shoulder, tossed out the coffee cup, and stepped out of the Panera he’d taken over for the better part of the afternoon and evening to get work done. Going to ground didn’t mean he could completely disappear. He had money, but he had a reputation to maintain, and that included finishing jobs he’d started.

  As soon as the door closed behind him, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb stepped away from the shop and started across the sidewalk. Quincy sighed, pushed his glasses farther up on his nose, and turned down Forbes, grateful for the twilight. With any luck the dark would help him lose them. He kept a reasonable pace, not willing to give them the satisfaction of letting them know he was aware of them. They wanted to scare him or take him in to his dad, now that Aubrey Archer knew the private detective he’d hired—Chad—wasn’t going to turn him over. And it would only feed their ego if they thought he was scared. But they looked like they didn’t care about what might get in their way in the process, and Quincy had no wish to break the secrecy laws or get others hurt.

  He took a quick left and did some bobbing and weaving through the alleys and side streets, leading them away from the hospital and in the opposite direction of Chad and Jamie’s apartment. Despite masking his own scent and making enough turns that they shouldn’t have been able to keep up with him, they seemed to be having no trouble.

  His annoyance level rising, Quincy took another turn into an alley, then a left to go around the back of the building. He loved that Oakland had so many of those. It made for plenty of opportunities to stay off the street and keep them moving.

  He did want to lead them away, but he’d rather have the chance to lay a false trail first. They were too damned close for that this time. He shouldn’t have even been in Oakland in the first place, but he’d just had to get a glimpse of Miles.

  Scowling, he moved faster, jumping fences rather than trying to run around. He cut across a few yards, scaled some chain link this time—grateful his cat’s grace translated to his human form—and took another alley.

  And stopped dead when he was staring at a smooth wooden fence even he couldn’t scale. He spun around, already sure he wasn’t going to be alone, already sure it was too late to go back that way, and he was right. He saw black metal out of the corner of his eye and looked up to see if he could catch the ladder of the fire escape above him, but damned if there wasn’t a third cat up there.

  “For the love of Bastet,” he muttered, then sighed. “Knew I should have stayed in the hotel today.” His calendar had said today was an unlucky day—he and many of the other cats still kept that old Egyptian custom—but he hadn’t heeded its warning. At least a third cat explained how they’d kept up with him so well. He cursed himself for not looking for another, then let it go. He had a bigger worry right then.

  Quincy set his bag down, cracked his neck, took a deep breath, then started the shift. His claws came out, his eyesight turned to grays, and his teeth dropped almost at the same time. He stopped there, hoping he wouldn’t have to shift completely, though he somehow doubted it. He turned to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb, studying their movements, the way they stalked toward him, parting to flank him at almost exactly the same time.

  He narrowed his eyes, considering his options and not liking the lack of them he came up with.

  “We’re just here to deliver a message,” Tweedle Dee said.

  “I’m not interested. I don’t eat Girl Scout Cookies, I donate anonymously to the humane society, and I already have a timeshare.”

  Tweedle Dee snorted. “You’re funny.”

  “I’d say I’m here all week, but I doubt that.” Quincy flicked his eyes up to the fire escape, but Tweedle Dumber hadn’t so much as moved a muscle. It irritated Quincy to no end to conclude that, while he could have bested Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb in a fight—either human or cat—Tweedle Dumber would be just a little too much. He really wished he hadn’t left his SIG Sauer back in the hotel room.

  If Quincy had one thing going for him, one thing he could usually count on over others, it was patience. He flicked his eyes from one to the other to the third—still on the fire escape—then back again. Dee and Dumb had stopped a few feet away, just out of reach. Dumber still hadn’t moved.

&nbs
p; He took slow, deep breaths through his mouth since the alley stank, keeping the best outward calm he could project. He was actually glad to be mostly human right then, because despite himself, if he’d been in cat form, his twitching tail would undoubtedly give his anxiety away. And he’d be damned if he gave them any advantage.

  There was nothing specific Quincy could point to that was a signal of any sort. But one second all three of them stood frozen—including Dumber on the balcony—and the next all three had moved in.

  Quincy might have been an information broker and artist. He might have preferred pencils and Wacom tablets to weapons and claws. But he was tepey-sa, heir to the leadership of his pride, which he wouldn’t still be—whether he wanted it or not—if he wasn’t worthy of it. So he could fight when he needed to.

  The three of them obviously hadn’t expected him to fight back. Quincy didn’t know what his father told them, but clearly he’d caught them by surprise. It allowed him to get a good kick in on Dumb, rake his claws over Dee’s chest—slicing open the shirt and leaving a nice set of deep scratches—and bite down on Dumber’s arm when he moved in to punch Quincy.

  Unfortunately, now that they knew he could fight, he was out of surprises. They regrouped, surrounding him but approaching him a little more carefully. Quincy wasn’t dumb enough to believe for one minute they were going to leave him alone. “I’m not going back,” he growled, his cat itching to take them out, pissed at being held back as much as he was.

  Dee shrugged one shoulder. “No skin off my nose.”

  Quincy was too focused on Dee, so when Dumber moved, it was too late to react properly. He took claws to his back, then a punch to his kidney from Dumb before he could retaliate. He still attempted a swipe, though it missed, and instead of landing the kick he’d hoped for, he ended up slightly unbalanced.

  He’d need to shift fully. His only hope was that these cats would take longer and give him a chance to get a few hits in on them midshift. He tried to take a breath, but the solid thud to his back knocked it out of him, and he knew if he didn’t shift now, he might not be able to.