by Lynn Hagen
“Need help?”
“Pat?”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” Pat felt himself blushing as he remembered Zack. He told Mitch about the call. “I’m supposed to be leaving now. What should I do?”
Mitch threw his head back and shouted, “Panahasi!”
Why hadn’t Pat thought of that? Why hadn’t he…his gaze lowered back to Mitch’s groin.
Focus!
He blinked a few times and tore his eyes away from his mate’s half-hard cock, but his damn gaze went right back to it until Mitch pulled on his underwear, blocking Pat from ogling him.
Just that fast Pat had forgotten that Mitch had called the demon leader, because, when Panahasi stepped into the room, Pat jumped and squeaked.
Mitch told the leader about the phone call. “How do you want to play this?”
“You two stay put,” Panahasi said. “I’ll go deal with this.”
“But he has my brother,” Pat argued. “If I don’t do exactly what he wants, he’ll kill Zack.”
Pat wasn’t sure what he had expected from Panahasi, but the hellhound hadn’t been messing around. His voice alone had scared the hell out of Pat, and from their reputations, Pat was terrified he would never see Zack again.
Panahasi left before Pat could continue his argument. He spun and faced Mitch. “I can’t sit on my thumb. That’s my brother, not his. If Panahasi has to go through Zack to take the hellhound down, I think he would.”
Pat headed for the door, but Mitch grabbed him by his upper arm and stopped him. “You have no training, Pat. You’re a dispatcher, not a cop. And even if you were, you have no training to face a hellhound.”
“You’d be amazed what a person can do when they fear for a loved one.” Pat yanked at his arm, but Mitch refused to let it go.
“And you’d be amazed how stubborn a mate can be when stopping his just-as-stubborn other half.” Mitch moved until he blocked the apartment door. “I’m not letting you run out there half-cocked. We have to trust that Panahasi can handle this.”
“What if it was your brother?” Pat couldn’t believe he was arguing with Mitch over Zack, but as much as his brother got on his last nerve, Pat also loved him, and their mom would be devastated if anything happened to the twerp.
“Fine.” Mitch sighed. “But we’re only going there to see what’s going down. We’re not getting in the way.”
Pat tucked his hands behind his back and crossed his fingers. “I promise.”
“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to regret this?” Mitch grumbled as he opened the door. “Get your ass moving.”
Before Pat stepped from the apartment, he kissed Mitch on his cheek. “Thanks.”
“You can thank me when we survive this.” Mitch closed the door behind them.
“Wait.” Pat looked down at Mitch’s arm. “You just closed the door with your left hand.”
Mitch lifted his left arm and squeezed his fingers into a fist. “The feeling started to come back earlier, but the sensations became strong when I was in the shower.”
Pat squeaked as he threw his arms around Mitch’s neck. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Don’t be too happy.” Mitch’s voice had gone deep and gruff. The closeness was affecting Pat, too. His body tingled as he slowly slid his arms from around Mitch’s neck. He had to remind himself that they were on their way to save Zack—yes, save, not observe—and now was not the time to fool around.
“Why not?” Pat asked.
“Because I don’t have full strength in my arm,” Mitch said.
“It’ll come back,” Pat said with confidence. Although the hellhound bite from a firstborn was nasty business, he was sure nothing could keep his strong, dominant, self-assured mate down.
After all, Mitch had already beaten the odds that he would never use his arm again. Now all he had to do was strengthen it. That was a piece of cake for someone like Mitch.
* * * *
This was a very bad idea. Mitch knew better than to take his mate to the one place where the enemy was waiting for him, but…fuck. Why couldn’t Mitch say no? His training told him to take Pat to the other end of the earth, yet there they were, walking out of the demon warriors’ apartment building and heading toward the restaurant.
Did finding one’s mate and falling in love make a guy stupid? Obviously it did because Mitch had caved quickly when Pat had given him that sappy-ass look.
It wasn’t the head on Mitch’s shoulders he was thinking with right now, as his dick led the way.
Mitch grabbed Pat’s hand and pulled him to a stop when they reached Jake’s Java, which was one block from The Melting Pot. It seemed every demon warrior was prowling around the outside, and Mitch was shocked to see Moose and Darren there, as well.
“See, they have things completely covered,” Mitch said as he coaxed Pat into Jake’s shop. “We’ll only get in the way.”
Mitch had also ducked into the shop because he had gotten a really bad vibe. No one was on the street, aside from the warriors. Serenity City seemed graveyard quiet, and a hinky feeling settled in the pit of Mitch’s gut.
He needed to get Pat out of the demon realm. That was what his brain was screaming. Luring Pat to a close-by restaurant seemed a little too easy to Mitch. The hellhound was up to something.
Mitch’s years of running covert ops, and also his instincts as a cheetah shifter, had kicked in. He had assessed the situation, and it wasn’t in their favor.
“We need to go.” Mitch grabbed Pat’s hand and headed out the door. But instead of going toward the apartment building, Mitch headed for Black Lake across the street.
“We can’t just leave,” Pat argued. “He has Zack.”
Mitch was starting to doubt that. Hellhounds were tricky bastards, and the one—Mitch wasn’t sure if it was Demonian or Syphon inside the restaurant—demanding Pat meet him could have been lying his ass off.
Nothing about this scenario felt right.
“We’re going in there?” Pat looked at the dark water. “I don’t think so.”
“It’s a portal to the human realm.” Mitch tugged Pat along, getting him as far from the restaurant as possible.
“But we were running from the human realm,” Pat argued. “And we have to help Zack.”
“Do you trust me?” Mitch didn’t have time to explain his gut feeling. They needed to get out of there.
Pat nibbled on his lower lip as he slowly nodded. “You’re my mate. Why wouldn’t I trust you?”
“Because I’m a stranger to you.”
With furrowed brows, Pat asked, “Are you trying to convince me to trust you or arguing against it? I’m totally confused.”
So was Mitch. He had forgotten the point he was trying to make. “We have to go.”
“But what about Zack?” Pat yanked his hand out of Mitch’s. “He’s no match for either hellhound. We have to help him.”
“The demon warriors have him covered.” Mitch felt like a rank bastard for what he was about to do, but they couldn’t stand on the grassy mound arguing for the next hour. The air felt charged. The streets were deserted, and the hairs along his body stood on end.
Something big was about to go down—something Mitch didn’t want to stick around to see.
With a regretful grunt, he shoved Pat into the lake and then dove in himself, pulling his mate deeper into the water.
They surfaced in the parking lot of The Pit. Smoke from the pit where Priest was grilling his meat blew toward them. Mitch sucked in a lungful of the delicious scent as he grabbed Pat’s hand and pulled him toward the center of town.
Thank god going into Black Lake never got anyone wet. That was a weird fact, but true.
“You bastard!” Pat smacked at Mitch’s hand. “Now how in the hell are we supposed to get back there to help Zack?”
Mitch needed to get Pat to the police station. Sheriff Werth, the deputies, and detectives on duty would be able to help. He would have gone to Maverick for help, but he didn’t want to take Pa
t anywhere near his mother.
That would put two targets in the same place, and Mitch wanted to avoid that at all costs.
“You said you trusted me.” Mitch stopped walking and pressed his palm against Pat’s handsome face.
“You also told me you were a stranger and I shouldn’t trust you,” Pat argued. “Which is it?”
“Trust me.” Mitch gave Pat a quick kiss, forcing himself not to take the kiss deeper, although his cheetah yowled for the intimacy. They had to get off the street, not stand there making out.
“Okay, so where are we heading?” Pat started walking beside Mitch as they hurried toward the station.
“Where there are a lot of shifters who can help us.” Mitch ducked into an alcove when he spotted a tall, thick man heading their way. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it wasn’t Demonian or Syphon and then quickly moved along.
He prayed they made it in time before either hellhound figured out they were no longer in Serenity City.
Mitch came to a hard stop when they rounded the corner and ran right into Syphon. A cruel smile curled the side of the hellhound’s mouth.
“Gotcha,” he said with a deep, dark chuckle before everything faded to black.
Chapter Six
Darren had been racing toward Black Lake to stop Mitch and Pat from using it to return to the human realm, but he had gotten to the grassy mound too late.
“Where do you think it let them out?” Moose asked, out of breath.
“I have no idea.” Darren looked toward the restaurant. He and Moose had infiltrated it, but no hellhound had been inside. No hostage, either.
It had been a setup.
Darren’s gut had told him the meeting had been too easy. No hellhound worth its salt would have given such a close-by destination. But they’d had to check it out, just in case Pat’s brother had truly been there.
“I think Mitch figured it out,” Moose said. “He knew the hellhound wasn’t in there.”
“And he wanted to get Pat out of here.” Darren looked at the lake then back at the restaurant. The demon warriors had spread out to search the city, but even if Demonian or Syphon had been in the demon realm, they were long gone by now.
“We need to track him.” Darren dove into the lake, emerging by the side of the police station. He jerked around, scanning the streets, hoping to find his boss and Pat.
“There.” Darren pointed when Moose emerged beside him.
To his left, a few blocks over, Darren spotted Mitch and Pat coming around the corner. His shout to warn them came too late. Syphon appeared and grabbed them and then vanished into thin air.
“Fuck!” Moose took off even though Mitch and Pat were gone. Darren spun and ran into the police station. He spotted Detective Jake Licari, Mitch’s friend, and quickly told him what had just happened.
Jake jumped from his seat and ran toward the door, a few men from the station rushing behind him.
Moose stood where Mitch and Pat had just been, turning in a circle.
After viewing the scene, Jake said, “I need to talk with the sheriff.”
Darren didn’t like feeling helpless. Mitch had been there for him at the worst time in Darren’s life. The cheetah shifter had picked Darren off the floor—figuratively speaking—and had given him a purpose. The missions they had been on together helped Darren fight his demons and served as an outlet for his anger. There wasn’t anything Darren wouldn’t do for Mitch.
Even face a firstborn hellhound.
Darren moved quickly across the street, pausing to let a few cars by as he made his way to Moose.
Moose stood there with a grim expression on his face, as though he wanted to murder someone with his bare hands. Darren knew the guy was big and powerful on the outside and all gooey in the inside. But he didn’t know too much about the man’s past.
Moose’s real name was John Zitelli. He was from around here, aaand that was about it. The bear shifter had never once shared anything personal with Darren. Not that Darren had wanted him to. He just knew he could trust that Moose had his back.
“Where would Syphon take them?” Moose asked when Darren joined him on the sidewalk.
“I haven’t the foggiest, big guy.” Darren looked back toward the station, but all the men had gone back inside. Probably to consult with their fearless leader.
Darren didn’t have time for a joint pow-wow. They needed to act fast if they were going to save Mitch’s and Pat’s lives. Those hellhounds had taken the kill on Demonian personally and were looking for payback.
“We need to start at the house we found him in,” Moose said. “Maybe we can figure out what Demonian was doing at that house and go from there.”
It was the best plan they had. Darren couldn’t think of anything else, so he followed Moose as they headed toward the school.
* * * *
Keep calm. Don’t panic. Focus on getting out of here instead of freaking the hell out. You’ve had a lifetime of training in helping others calm down. Use your training.
Unfortunately, no matter how many times Pat repeated that to himself, his panic level continued to rise. He had no idea where they were, if anyone was looking for them, or if one of the hellhounds had killed Zack.
“Pacing isn’t going to do you any good.” Mitch moved beside him, but Pat jerked away.
“What else am I supposed to do?” Pat snapped. “If we had stayed in Serenity City, we wouldn’t be in this mess, and I have no fucking clue if my brother is even alive.”
Pat was normally a good-natured kind of guy. He always looked on the sunny side of things, kept positive thoughts, and truly believed any situation could be resolved with an optimistic outcome if everyone used their heads in a crisis situation.
At the moment, Pat wasn’t sure their outcome would be optimistic. He didn’t see a sunny side to this, and his positive thoughts had died a hard, violent death.
“It’s just the close proximity to the hellhounds,” Mitch said. “They drain all of your happy thoughts and feelings.”
“You think it’s the hellhounds who have me so sour?” Pat slapped his hands on his hips. “Zack might be a screw-up in every sense of the hyphenated word, but he’s still my brother, and you made me walk away from him.”
Tears stung Pat’s eyes as he turned away from his mate and looked around the desolate room where they were being held. On the right wall was heavily peeling paint, with large chips scattered on the floor. The left side and back wall were made of cinderblock. The floor was concrete, along with the ceiling, and the wall in front of them held a single steel door.
They were trapped with no way out. Even if Pat shifted into his fox form, there was no way he could fit into the small hole at the base of the wall in front of them. He would have to be a mouse to get through there, and there was no telling what or who might be waiting on the other side.
He had never felt so hopeless in his life.
“What do you think they plan on doing with us?” The floor was dusty and dirty, with chunks of concrete littered about, but Pat sat, crossing his legs as he wrapped his arms around his midsection.
Maybe it was the hellhounds affecting his mood because he felt so isolated and alone, as if he would never be happy again, and that made Pat want to bawl his eyes out.
Mitch hunched down behind Pat and slid his arms around him. His mate rested his chin on Pat’s shoulder. “I don’t know, but whatever it is, we’ll get through this.”
Pat closed his eyes and let out a long breath when Mitch kissed his neck. Their situation was dire, but he had needed that. He had needed the connection and comfort, to feel wrapped up in safety, although he doubted they would be safe if Demonian or Syphon came into their room.
“I just pictured my mating so differently,” Pat confessed. “I definitely didn’t see myself running for my life or my mate fighting to keep me safe.” Pat sighed. “I guess I just want a normal life where everything is rainbows and sunshine.”
Mitch snorted. “What world d
o you live in? Life is rarely how we want it to be.”
“Not true,” Pat said. “I’ve seen people blissfully happy.”
“Most people only show their A side. They rarely ever tell anyone about their B side.”
“What does that mean?” Pat asked.
“A side is perfect. B side is where everyone hides the really fucked-up things that are going on in their lives. Trust me, hon. When you see a blissfully happy person, they either fought like hell to get there or they have a lot of skeletons in their closet.”
“Gee, you’re a glass-half-empty kind of guy, aren’t you?”
“I’m a realist.” Mitch sat behind him, pulling Pat onto his lap. He leaned against Mitch as he stared at the steel door. “My life has never been easy, but my hardships made me who I am. And I don’t think I turned out so bad.”
Pat didn’t think so, either. He just wished he could get to know his mate under different circumstances. Trying to find out who his mate was while dodging hellhounds wasn’t exactly easy.
Mitch tightened his arms around Pat. “Although my arm seems to be healing, I’ve thought a lot about what you said.”
“What’s that?”
“Running things from my office.” Mitch nuzzled Pat’s neck, and Pat sighed at how content he felt.
The earlier feeling of hopelessness started to fade, as though being in his mate’s arms was some kind of antidote for the effect the hellhounds had on him.
“Would you be happy doing that?”
“I won’t know until I try,” Mitch said. “Besides, I have a mate to come home to now. I would like to find out what that feels like.”
Pat’s anger at Mitch for making him leave Zack subsided. He had to trust that Panahasi and the demon warriors had made good on their word that Zack would be saved, because Pat refused to believe any other outcome.
He felt like goo in Mitch’s arms, visualizing coming home every night to Mitch. For Pat, that sounded perfect.
They just had to get the hell out of this room and away from Demonian and Syphon. How they could accomplish that was anyone’s guess.