by K. C. Wells
“Yeah, good idea. We don’t want you coming back with something that makes you stand out in a crowd,” Crank said with a grin. “You know, like a little black sequined number?”
“Gee, I didn’t even think about that.” Rael rolled his eyes. “What do you take me for?”
Roadkill guffawed. “Watch out, Crank. The kitty has claws too.”
Crank widened his eyes. “Hey, remember that op we did where Horvan drew the short straw and had to put on that miniskirt?” He cackled.
Hashtag broke out laughing. “Remember his legs?”
“Legs nothing,” Horvan growled. “The head and at least two inches of dick fell out when the tape job went tits-up.”
“Oh my God.” Rael’s jaw dropped. “Tell me there are pictures.”
Hashtag opened his mouth to say something, but Horvan cut him off. “Remember, I’m a meat eater.”
That earned him a tilt of Hashtag’s head. “Yeah, so?”
Horvan speared him with a look. “You’re meat.”
There was a moment of silence before everyone burst into laughter. Hashtag gave a shiver. “Teddy bear my ass.” He reached over and squeezed Rael’s shoulder. “You know we’re all praying that you can get through to Dellan, right? Because if we can get him to come with us, climb the stairs to the roof, and get onto the chopper, it’ll make things simpler. But that all balances on one thing—your rapport with him.”
Rael nodded slowly.
Horvan was aware of the waves of stress coming from him. He needed some alone time with his mate. “Is that it?” he asked Hashtag.
“For now. Once we’ve talked to the doc, we’ll know what to get for the tranquilizer gun and hopefully where to get it. Later we’ll make a start on the placards. Roadkill can do the printing,” Hashtag said firmly.
“Hey, I can do that too,” Crank protested.
“Roadkill can do the printing,” Hashtag repeated, his tone even firmer.
Crank stuck out his chin and grumbled, muttering.
“I have a question,” Rael said suddenly. “How do you intend to get us into the office? There are no locks that I could see. That secretary opened a panel with a remote.”
“If cleaners can get in, so can we. I’ll bet the security guards have a remote.” Hashtag smiled confidently. “With the mayhem we’re going to create, it should be easy to get hold of one.”
Horvan glanced around. “Any more questions?” Everyone shook their heads. “In that case, I’m going to bed.” He got up off the arm of the couch and held out his hand to Rael. “Correction—we’re going to bed.” Rael nodded, took his hand, and Horvan hauled him to his feet. “See you in the morning, guys.”
They left the room to a chorus of good-nights. As he closed the bedroom door behind him, Horvan chuckled.
“They’re improving. We didn’t get a series of catcalls about keeping the noise down or not doing anything they wouldn’t do.”
Rael bit his lip. “Ah. Yes. That’s my fault.” When Horvan gave him an inquiring glance, Rael sighed. “I… sort of told them we’re not having sex.”
Horvan stilled. “O-kay. I’m assuming you had your reasons.”
“They asked,” Rael said with a shrug.
When nothing else was forthcoming, Horvan sighed. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this.” He pulled Rael into his arms. “It’s okay. All I want to do right now is climb into bed with you and snuggle until we fall asleep.”
Rael’s face lit up. “That sounds perfect.”
They got undressed in silence, slipped beneath the sheets, and Horvan curled around Rael’s body, inhaling his scent.
“Horvan?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. Just don’t blame me if I fall asleep midanswer.” Now that he was in bed, fatigue had really set in.
“It’s about what you said in there… about Hashtag having skills… with his tongue?”
Shit. Horvan should have known Rael wasn’t going to brush it aside that easily. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “We’ve exchanged a couple blow jobs in the past—and I’m gonna repeat that part—in the past. He’s not into guys, I’m not into him. It was….”
“Just sex?”
“Yeah.” Before he could say another word, Rael placed his hand over Horvan’s heart.
“It’s okay, honest. Hell, I’m no saint. I have a past too. Just… making sure it’s not going to happen again.”
Rael might have made those last words sound like a statement, but Horvan didn’t miss the catch in his voice. He rolled on top of Rael, pinning him to the mattress. Rael’s breathing quickened.
“No one but you, sweetheart. You and Dellan, from now on.” Fuck, Rael felt good. Horvan undulated his body, his own heartbeat speeding up when Rael responded, his hands on Horvan’s back, his dick hardening against Horvan’s belly.
“Fuck… we said we….” Rael moaned softly, and Horvan nuzzled into his neck, losing himself in Rael’s scent, the feel of warm skin, a lean body, and the hard heat that Horvan longed to take into his mouth.
Fuck, Horvan, I want that too, but we can’t….
Then Horvan stilled when an image flitted through his mind. Dellan in his cage, pacing.
Waiting.
With a supreme effort, he rolled off Rael, curled around his back, and wrapped his arms around Rael’s waist. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Nothing to apologize for,” Rael replied instantly. He covered Horvan’s hands with his own. “In fact… it gives me something to look forward to.”
Horvan kissed his shoulder. You and me both. His thoughts returned to Dellan.
It is going to work, isn’t it? We can pull this off?
If Horvan believed in anything, it was his friends. Yeah. We can do this.
They had to. Three lives were depending on it.
THEY WALKED slowly along Nineteenth Street, heading for home, carrying their purchases. Rael had been quiet for the last fifteen minutes, and Horvan had caught quick flashes of thought, nothing more.
“You’re trying to shield your mind from me, aren’t you?”
Rael jerked his head in Horvan’s direction. “How do you know?”
He chuckled. “Because it’s the only explanation for why I haven’t been able to read your thoughts.” Horvan couldn’t deny feeling a little hurt that Rael would want to do that, but he could understand it. Although the mind link had been a shock initially, Horvan had quickly adjusted to this proof that he and Rael were mates.
“It’s not easy,” Rael admitted. “In fact, it feels… wrong.” He put his hand on Horvan’s arm. “And yes, I can feel your hurt. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t need to apologize out loud. Horvan could almost feel the knots in Rael’s belly, the heaviness in his chest. “Want to tell me what you were trying so hard not to share?” Horvan already had a theory about that. When Rael didn’t reply, he pressed ahead. “Have you had any more dreams?”
Rael’s sharp intake of breath was answer enough to tell him he’d nailed it. “No. And that scares me.”
“Have you tried reaching out to Dellan?” Horvan asked gently.
“Yeah. I can’t reach him. That’s what is haunting me—what if we rescue him and it’s too late? What do we do if he’s forgotten what it means to be human, or worse, if he’s forgotten how to shift back?”
Horvan had been plagued by the same fear. “We’ll get him out, and then we’ll get help for him. Shifter help. Plus we’ll have space so he can go outside, within reason. We don’t really want too many people to see him. I don’t think they’d buy the explanation that he’s a pet.”
“So we just… wait?”
Horvan shook his head. “We work with him to remind him what being human is.”
Rael said nothing for a moment. Then he announced, “We’ll need a car. We can’t drive around Salmon in an RV. It’ll be too conspicuous.”
Horvan agreed. “When we pick up the motor home in Gary, Roadkill
will transfer to a car. He’ll be right behind us.”
Rael stared at him. “You’re not planning on driving the whole way on your own, are you?”
Horvan laughed. “No, sweetheart. We’ll take it in turns so some can grab a few hours’ sleep. Like I said, it’ll take at least a day to reach Salmon.”
Rael’s breathing became more even. “Okay. I spoke to the owner of the cabin this morning. He wants to meet me there Thursday to explain things. Not that there’ll be a lot to explain, I imagine. ‘Here’s the kitchen, here are the beds, don’t block the toilets, put out the trash.’” Rael grinned. “Or not, depending on whether there are any bears around.”
“Funny.” Horvan liked that Rael had relaxed a little. “We’ll be waiting to move in as soon as you give the word.” A thought occurred to him. “This latest assignment of yours… the article you’re writing… who is it for, and when do they expect to see it?”
“It’s for The Economist, and the deadline is in three months’ time. So no need to panic yet.” Rael drew in a long breath. “Hopefully by then my life will be looking a little more normal.”
Horvan leaned in and said in a low voice, “I hate to break this to you, but with two mates—and not forgetting the people I work with—your life will never be normal.”
Rael gave a shaky laugh. “Yeah, you’re right.”
They reached the steps down to Horvan’s apartment. Before he opened the door, he turned to Rael. “Try not to be scared, okay?” Rael nodded. Horvan pulled him into a hug. “I can’t wait to hold him, you know?” he whispered. “Even as a tiger.”
Rael turned his face up to look at him, his eyes shining. “In my dream, his fur was so soft.” His gaze flickered to the keys in Horvan’s hand. “Let’s get inside. It’s cold out here.”
“And besides, Roadkill is cooking lunch for us.”
Rael frowned. “Can he cook?”
Horvan grinned. “You’re about to find out why we really call him Roadkill.”
“OKAY, WHO am I talking to?” Doc Tranter’s voice came through the speaker.
“Hey, Doc. Horvan Kojik here. I’m with Crank, Roadkill, and Hashtag. Plus another.” That explanation could wait.
“And you want to talk about sedating a tiger that you’re going to rescue.” The doc’s tone was dry. “This doesn’t sound like one of your usual exploits. Okay. What do you need to know?”
Horvan gave Hashtag a nod.
“Doc? Hashtag here. First thing… how long would it take to sedate a tiger enough for it to be handled?”
“If the purpose is to do it with as little risk to the tiger as possible, then you’ll need to use the least amount of sedative possible. With a tiger, that could take up to a half hour.”
“And how much would that be?”
“The sedative is like general anesthetic. It’s a mix, and it works the same way as heroin. Too much, and the animal overdoses. Too little, and it may get just sleepy enough for you to get within biting range. You have to get the balance right. What does the tiger weigh?”
Hashtag peered at Rael’s notes. “We estimate about four hundred fifty pounds, maybe less.”
“Doc?” Horvan interrupted. “I should say at this point that the tranquilizer dart is a last resort. We’re hoping to get the tiger out without it.”
Silence.
“Doc?”
“May I ask how you plan on doing that? What are you going to do—ask it nicely?” The doctor chuckled.
“Well, that’s kinda the plan.” Hashtag cleared his throat. “We’re hoping the tiger’s… mate can communicate with him.”
More silence.
“It’s okay, Doc. You’re among friends,” Horvan told him.
Doc Tranter coughed. “When you say mate… you’re not talking about the British variety, are you?”
Horvan laughed softly. “No, Doc. In fact, this tiger has two mates. And you’re talking to one of them.” His heartbeat sped up.
“Dear Lord.” A pause. “Where are you planning on taking it—him? Once you’ve got him out?”
Horvan chuckled. “Relax, Doc. You’ll get to meet him. Roadkill will fetch you once he’s safe. Be ready to move after Thursday.”
“Oh, I most certainly will. I’ll email Hashtag with the dart requirements and where to procure them. And then I’ll pray you won’t need them. Men? I wish you every success with your mission. You’ll be in my prayers.” The call disconnected.
“I think we gave Doc Tranter a slight heart attack,” Roadkill murmured.
“There we have it,” Hashtag said at last. “If we have to sedate Dellan, we could be talking half an hour before we can call for the chopper.”
“Not a good situation to be in,” Horvan had to admit. “Your idea of crowds looks like the best bet.”
Anything to cause pandemonium and buy them more time. Because they were going to need every minute.
Chapter Twelve
“CHRIST, CRANK, put some clothes on,” Horvan muttered as he entered the living room the following morning. “You’re making the place look untidy.”
“Fuck you,” Crank replied good-naturedly before helping himself to more coffee. “You said, ‘Make yourselves comfortable.’ Well, this is me, comfortable.” He swung his dick from side to side, slapping it against his upper thighs.
Horvan had more important things on his mind. “Where’s Hashtag? Has he gone someplace?” Hashtag had made no mention the previous night of not being around, which was kind of surprising the day before a mission. He was usually up with the birds, checking equipment over and over.
“Beats me,” Roadkill replied with a shrug, his eyes focused on his phone. “He was gone when I woke up, and that was at six.” He peeked at Horvan. “Speaking of which… what time do you call this? It’s eight o’clock already. I was beginning to think you two were planning on staying in bed all day.” He smirked. “Some of us have already had breakfast.”
“Wherever Hashtag is, he apparently doesn’t need his laptop.” Crank pointed to it on the coffee table.
One look at Rael’s face was enough to tell Horvan his mate was concerned by Hashtag’s absence. Horvan stroked down his back. “Don’t stress. He’ll be back. And in the meantime, we have plenty of jobs to be getting on with. You can help Roadkill assemble the headgear.”
Roadkill smiled. “Yeah, that’d be great. Me and my fat fingers can use all the help we can get.” He put down his phone.
“Have we run out of coffee?” Crank ran one hand over his buzz cut while scratching his ball sac with the other. “’Cause it’s flowing like mud around here.”
Horvan rolled his eyes. “I’ll make some more, Your Majesty, while you put some clothes on. Some of us have delicate stomachs, and the sight of your dick swinging around first thing in the morning is more than we can take.”
Crank grinned, grabbed his cock, and waved it at Horvan before reaching into his bag for a pair of sweats and a hoodie.
Horvan went into the kitchen area, Rael close behind.
“Where do you think he’s gone? I thought we had all the equipment.”
Horvan cupped Rael’s face. “Whatever he’s doing, you can bet it’s for the mission. And probably important. We’ll find out when he gets back, okay?” He noted the dark smudges under Rael’s eyes. “You’re not sleeping well.”
“How can I? I close my eyes, and all I can see is Dellan.” Even Rael’s voice sounded exhausted.
Horvan pulled him closer until Rael’s face was buried in his neck. Horvan stroked his unruly hair. “Tomorrow morning, sweetheart. Twenty-four hours from now, we’ll have him out of there.” Barring any unforeseen circumstances, and Horvan was praying there were none. He gently lifted Rael’s chin with his fingers and looked into those tired blue eyes. “Next time you can’t sleep, wake me.”
“Why, so we can be insomniacs together?” The flicker of a smile lifted Horvan’s spirits a little.
He chuckled. “No, so I can hold you, rub your back, do anything to he
lp you get back to sleep.” He inclined his head toward the living room. “Now go grab the mugs, and we’ll see if we can top up Crank’s caffeine levels.”
Rael nodded and disengaged himself from Horvan’s embrace. Horvan waited until he was out of sight before leaning against the countertop.
Where are you, Hashtag?
Too late, he remembered his and Rael’s link.
So I’m not the only one worrying, huh?
Horvan had to smile. Christmas is gonna be a bitch. I can see it now. How the hell am I supposed to surprise you when you can see every damn thing in my mind?
Rael’s response was swift. He laughed.
“That doesn’t help!” Horvan yelled. It didn’t stop him smiling, though.
BY MIDDAY, the living room floor was a picture of ordered chaos. The tranquilizer gun and the small box containing the sedatives sat there, along with the assembled headgear, each with an earpiece and tiny camera. The poles for carrying the sling—if required—were made up of small sections that could be screwed together, enabling them to fit inside a bag. The sling was folded up neatly and stuffed into the bag, along with the poles. Horvan had no idea where Roadkill had found it, but it was perfect for the job. Now all he had to do was hope they didn’t need it.
Roadkill was on his laptop, checking the details for picking up the motor home in Gary. Their friend Danno knew where to collect it and have it waiting for them. The plan was to land the chopper in Wheeler, just off the 130. There was a flying club in the vicinity, so a helicopter wouldn’t be an uncommon sight. Roadkill had picked a spot away from buildings, isolated enough not to attract attention. He’d arranged for another buddy, Wes, to have a car ready for them at the rendezvous point. Roadkill would drive that.
Horvan knew he could rely on his team. The guys worked well together, and he’d trust them with his life.
Now he was trusting them with his mates’ lives too.
“You got the route all worked out?” Horvan asked Roadkill.
He laughed. “Ever the overachiever, I’ve worked out two. The longer, more circuitous route takes about twenty-seven hours and the shortest, twenty-four hours, door to door. I’m thinking the longer route, simply because we have the time and we’re not in any hurry. But seeing as there’ll be five guys to share the driving, we can pretty much travel nonstop. I’ll schedule breaks along the way so we can swap between the motor home and the car. We can take turns to grab some shut-eye.” He smiled. “Of course, I’ve never traveled this far with a tiger before.”