A Growl, a Roar, and a Purr Page 15

“Don’t forget to take plenty of cash!” Horvan called out after Hashtag.

  “Oh, gee, why didn’t I think of that?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “Why cash?” Rael asked. “Put it all on a card.”

  “We never use credit cards on a mission. Too easily traced. And we want to stay under the radar. That goes for you too.” When Rael frowned, Horvan shook his head. “Think about it. You went to see Anson, and you paid a lot of attention to the tiger, didn’t you? Stands to reason Anson is gonna check you out, or at least check out your whereabouts. And he’s not gonna be able to find you. Which reminds me. I’ll give you a cell to use. You can’t use yours.”

  Rael sighed. “And this is how you live all the time? How do you cope?” He put his arms around Dellan’s neck and rubbed his face in the thick fur there.

  Horvan moved until he was kneeling beside them both. “It’s how I’ve lived up till now. But things change. Now I have two mates to think of. I guess that means taking a look at how I want my future to be.”

  The loud growl that shattered the peaceful moment came from Dellan’s stomach.

  Horvan got to his feet. “I think it’s time we all ate something, don’t you?” He scritched behind Dellan’s ears again. “And I know where there’s a big juicy steak or two with your name on them.”

  Dellan was out of the small bathroom in a heartbeat.

  “There’s nothing wrong with his hearing,” Rael commented.

  What raised Horvan’s spirits was the fact that Dellan was clearly understanding speech better than before.

  Maybe whatever they gave him is wearing off. Even through their link, Horvan caught the hopeful note in Rael’s voice.

  God, I hope so.

  HORVAN HAD to admit, Rael had done them proud. The cabin was perfect for their needs. The beds up in the loft rooms were a good size, and the ladders going up to them were a charming feature. A thick wooden beam ran across the ceiling from one side of the cabin to the other. The stove belted out a good deal of heat into the space that was both a living and dining room. Three couches filled up one end of the room, sitting on thick rugs. And the floor below was perfect for the boys, with lots of room.

  “They’re back,” Hashtag told them, looking up from his laptop screen.

  Horvan gazed at the image from the camera nearest to the property’s boundaries with the road and smiled. Hashtag’s defensive system included an alarm that would tell them if someone approached the cabin.

  They weren’t taking any chances.

  Dellan was investigating the cabin’s nooks and crannies, strolling around the floor and peering into every corner.

  Hashtag chuckled. “Looks like Dellan is checking out his defenses too.”

  Dellan paused at the foot of the ladder, staring up at the mezzanine where the bed was located. He crouched low, then sprang into the air, landing on the upper level with a thud. The floorboards beneath him creaked.

  Hashtag gasped. “That was some jump.” Dellan stared down at them from his new lofty height.

  Rael laughed. “When it comes to high jumps, tigers are the undisputed kings. They can easily jump over ten feet high. And you should see them spring vertically up a twenty-foot pole.”

  “Seriously?”

  Rael nodded. “In fact, no one knows how high a tiger can jump, because every time one sets a record, another tiger breaks it.”

  The door opened, and Roadkill and Crank entered the cabin, both carrying heavy-looking boxes. Hashtag went to help them. Crank put his burden on the countertop and glanced at Horvan.

  “I got something for Dellan from the store.” He walked out of the cabin.

  Horvan snickered. “Unless it’s a crate full of meat, I can’t see much impressing Dellan.”

  Crank came back into the room, carrying a large box.

  “What’s in there?” Horvan inquired.

  “Nothing. It’s empty.” Crank set it down on the floor and took a step back. “Cats love playing with empty boxes, right?”

  Horvan snorted. “Maybe house kitties do shit like that, but—”

  Dellan landed nimbly and ran over to the box. He jumped into it and sat there, staring at Crank.

  Horvan turned to Rael. “Did you know he’d like…?” His words died at the sight of Rael’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

  Rael glared at him. “I’m pissed, that’s what’s wrong. I was two seconds from shifting so I could play in it. Dellan beat me to it.”

  For a moment, no one said a word. Then all five men were laughing while Dellan got on with the serious business of playing in his box.

  Horvan had to hand it to Crank. He knew his kitties.

  HORVAN WOKE to an insistent nudging. He cracked his eye open and came face-to-face with Dellan’s large round striped head, visible in the light that filtered up from the floor below.

  “Hey, you need to go out?” he asked, then yawned. He had no idea of the time. They’d all headed for bed around nine.

  Then he realized Dellan had jumped up to the loft again.

  Sleep.

  “Okay, go to sleep, then.”

  It seemed all Dellan wanted was permission. Before Horvan could say anything, 440 pounds of tiger plopped on top of him. What the fuck?

  “Rael?” Horvan gave the sleeping Rael a nudge. “Goddamn it, Rael. Wake your ass up.” Dellan weighed a ton.

  “Whaaaat?” Rael was lying on his side facing the wall. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had a good sleep?” he whined. He rolled over, and even in the dim light, Horvan saw his eyes widen. “Holy shit,” he whispered.

  “And heavy shit at that,” Horvan agreed.

  Rael reached out and stroked Dellan’s paw. “Dellan? What’s going on?”

  No sleep without Dellan.

  The words were firm, insistent, and to Horvan’s mind, they showed the first signs of possessiveness. They also sent a pang of guilt through him.

  “You’re right. We shouldn’t be sleeping without you. How about if we all go into the living room and sleep together? Now that we’re a… family, it makes sense to be together, right?”

  Dellan got up, climbed off the bed, walked over to the top of the ladder, and leaped into the air, landing on his front paws with a soft thud. Rael rubbed his eyes and followed, climbing down the wooden ladder, Horvan behind him. When they reached the spot where they’d heaped blankets for Dellan, Rael sighed.

  “You know what? Let’s make him really comfortable.” He stepped out of his shorts, pulled his tee over his head, and shifted.

  Instantly, Dellan approached him, sniffing, and Rael flopped onto his back. Dellan studied him, brushing his head against Rael’s mane. Mate. My mate. Lion. Lion and human.

  Horvan watched them, his heart lighter than it had felt for days. When Dellan nuzzled Rael’s belly, moving lower toward his groin, Horvan had to smile.

  Yeah, you’re gonna have a lot of fun with that when you finally shift back.

  Then Rael rolled over and stood, facing Horvan. Dellan took a step toward Horvan, his head raised as he sniffed the air again. As if synchronized, they walked toward him.

  Horvan grinned. “Now I know why I’m a cat person.” He stripped off and shifted, standing still as Dellan approached him, his nose in the air as he drew Horvan’s scent into his nostrils.

  Bear. Beautiful bear. Dellan lowered himself to the floor, and Horvan buried his snout in that glorious striped fur, inhaling his mate’s aroma. He lay down on the blanket, and immediately Dellan moved to his side, rubbing against him. Rael went to Horvan’s other side, and suddenly Horvan was sandwiched between two purring big cats. They snuggled against his flanks, their three heads almost touching.

  Horvan smiled to himself. Big cats don’t purr. Yeah, right.

  He was asleep within seconds.

  HE KNEW exactly what had awoken him—Dellan was whimpering, as though in pain. His tail thrashed, hitting the floor. Horvan was instantly alert, checking the space around them for any threats. When he saw
they were alone, Horvan shifted, reaching for Dellan, laying gentle hands on him, sending out a flow of calm.

  What stopped him dead was the image in his head.

  It had to be the same memory as in Dellan’s previous nightmare, because there was the stranger again, standing beside Anson. Only this time, there was more than one image. It was as if Horvan was seeing the event through Dellan’s eyes.

  The stranger pointed something at Dellan, something Horvan couldn’t make out, and then pain seared through his neck.

  With a cry, Rael shifted before moving closer to Dellan, as though to protect him, and Horvan knew he’d shared the experience. Rael’s chest heaved, and his breathing was erratic. He drew in a deep breath before speaking.

  “He shot Dellan. Horvan, he shot him.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  RAEL WAS still shaking. Whatever had struck Dellan, he’d felt it as though it had lanced through his own body. Dellan had come out of the nightmare, and Horvan was curled around him as if he were shielding Dellan with his body. The physical connection seemed to do the trick. Dellan’s breathing grew less labored, and he lay quieter, Horvan’s hands moving over his flanks in a gentle, soothing motion.

  “It wasn’t a bullet,” Rael insisted. The pain had felt sharp, almost needlelike, and in the immediate aftermath, a burning sensation spread out from the point of entry. Rael shivered. “I think it was some kind of dart, or something very like it.”

  Horvan nodded. Rael was conscious of Horvan’s constant flow of calm thoughts directed toward Dellan.

  “Is everything okay up here?” Crank appeared in the doorway that led down to the lower floor. He wore a red flannel onesie.

  Despite the shock still jolting through him, Rael smiled. “Oh, that look is definitely you, Crank.”

  “Fuck off.” Crank came over and knelt beside them. “Is Dellan okay? It didn’t sound so good from downstairs.” He stretched out his hand to stroke Dellan, but hesitated. When Dellan raised his head, pushing against Crank’s palm, Rael sighed with relief. Crank let out a shuddering breath and slowly stroked Dellan’s sleek fur and velvet nose. “There now. It’s okay. Your mates are here.” He kept his voice low and calming.

  Rael was impressed, both by Crank’s gentle approach and Dellan’s reaction. “He likes you.”

  “That’s a relief. He’s obviously not thinking of me as dinner.” Crank met Horvan’s gaze. “Another nightmare?”

  Horvan nodded. “Only this time, we shared part of it.”

  Rael quickly told Crank what they’d seen and felt, and Crank’s face darkened. “That bastard. I don’t know who I hate more right now—the fucker who shot him or the fucker who let him. Because it’s obvious Anson was in on this. He was there, wasn’t he?”

  “What is this, a pajama party?” Roadkill emerged through the door, looking sleepy. He blinked when he caught sight of Rael and Horvan. “Oh. Apparently not. Is it one of those kinda parties? And if so, why wasn’t I invited?”

  Horvan rolled his eyes. “We shifted, doof.” He reached over for his clothing, shivering.

  Rael wasn’t sure that reaction was entirely to do with the temperature. He pulled on his own shorts and tee.

  Crank rose to his feet. “Well, seeing as we’re all awake, I’m gonna make hot chocolate. I’m freezing my ass off here.”

  Roadkill came over and crouched beside Dellan. “Yeah, good idea,” he said absently, stroking Dellan’s back. “You okay, Dellan?”

  Tears pricked Rael’s eyes when Dellan responded. “He said ‘good friend.’”

  Roadkill’s smile was huge. “I’ll take that.” He leaned in until his nose was inches from Dellan’s. “I’m gonna be your friend as long as you need me.” When Dellan’s nose touched his, Roadkill chuckled. “That tickles.” He straightened before rubbing his hand over Dellan’s ruff.

  “We think that guy shot him with a dart or something. Maybe that was the first time he was drugged,” Rael mused.

  Roadkill nodded. “And when Dellan finally shifts back, hopefully he can tell us what happened. If he remembers.”

  “What do you mean?” Horvan demanded.

  “I mean, this has obviously been a traumatic experience. I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t able to remember part of it. The brain does that. It’s like a safety mechanism to suppress things that might hurt us.” Roadkill’s eyes were focused on Dellan. “We need to be careful not to press him too much. Let him remember what he can.”

  Stay. Mates stay.

  Rael leaned over and rubbed his face in Dellan’s fur. We’re not going anywhere. And from now on, we sleep with you. Okay?

  Okay. There was a pause. No dreams.

  Rael’s throat tightened. He would give anything to make sure Dellan had no more nightmares, but unfortunately that was beyond him. He prayed that when Dellan was human once more, the dreams would end.

  He didn’t hold out much hope of that, however.

  Hashtag came into the room, rubbing his hand over his scalp and yawning. “Does that delicious aroma mean someone’s making hot chocolate?”

  Horvan laughed. “Looks like none of us are getting back to sleep anytime soon. What say we find a movie and get comfortable?”

  Rael thought that sounded like a great plan. He intended watching it from a pile of pillows on the floor next to Dellan.

  Horvan gave him a warm smile. That makes two of us.

  RAEL STARED out the window, watching for the car. “How old is the doc?”

  “In his late fifties maybe? He’s retired from the military now.” Horvan joined him on the couch. “He’s a good guy.”

  “What is he?” So far, Horvan hadn’t mentioned what kind of shifter the doc was.

  “I don’t know because I didn’t ask. I just knew he was a shifter.” Horvan chuckled. “A very big shifter. I don’t know about you, but it always struck me as kinda rude, demanding to know what someone shifted into. If they want to tell you, fine. Supposing they shift into something tiny, like a mouse? They might not wanna share that.”

  Rael totally got that. He glanced across to where Dellan was sitting on the floor, front paws crossed almost daintily, head erect, looking very regal. “I’ve told him we’re expecting a visitor, so it won’t be a shock.” He yawned.

  “I told you to grab some shut-eye before the doc arrives. You look tired.”

  Rael narrowed his gaze. “Gee, you think that’s maybe because we were all watching movies in the early hours when we should have been sleeping? And yes, I blame you. It was your idea.” Before Horvan could come back with a response, Rael sighed. “I’m sorry. I get cranky when I don’t get enough sleep.”

  Horvan bit his lip. “I’d never have guessed.”

  “We’ve got company,” Hashtag announced, walking into the room. “Roadkill’s back. I’ll tell Crank to get his ass in here.”

  “Crank’s outside?”

  “Sure. He’s bringing in wood for the stove. Of course, he’s bitching about it too.”

  The door banged open, and Crank staggered into the room, his arms full of logs. “Take these, one of you, before I drop them on my toes. Not that my toes would feel a thing because they’re fucking frostbitten.”

  Horvan and Hashtag relieved him of his burden and piled the logs in the basket next to the stove. Crank stamped his feet on the floorboards, the snow falling off his heavy boots. Moments later, the car pulled up outside and doors slammed.

  The doc knocked on the doorframe before entering. “Anyone home?” he said with a smile. In one hand he carried a black leather bag.

  Rael liked the look of him instantly. He had a kind face and blue eyes that held a twinkle. His hair was mostly gray, and there were lines around his eyes. Laughter lines.

  Crank helped the doc out of his thick coat before clasping hands with him. “Glad you’re here, Doc.”

  The doc peered at him. “You’ve put on weight. It suits you.” Crank raised his eyes heavenward. Roadkill and Hashtag took their turns greeting him, and Rae
l liked the way the doc shook their hands warmly.

  Horvan went over to him and gave him a hug. “Hey, Doc. Good to see you.”

  The doc patted his arm. “I swear you’re bigger than the last time I saw you.”

  “Sure, he’s bigger, but I’ve put on weight,” Crank flung out.

  The doc arched his eyebrows. “Have I touched a nerve?” His gaze flickered to Rael, and his smile intensified. “You must be Horvan’s partner. Hashtag didn’t tell me much, except that you existed.” He walked over, his hand extended, still smiling. “That was a shock in itself. Horvan Kojik settling down.”

  “Hey, why does everyone act like it’s such a surprise?” Horvan retorted.

  There was a moment’s pause before the doc, Hashtag, Roadkill, and Crank burst into laughter. Horvan muttered something about “so-called friends,” but no one was paying him any attention.

  Rael shook the proffered hand. “I’m Rael Parton, Dr. Tranter.”

  He waved his hand. “Please, call me Doc.” His gaze alighted on Dellan. “Oh my.” The room fell silent as he crossed the floor to where Dellan sat.

  Doc Tranter knelt gingerly beside him. “Hello, my friend,” he said quietly. “I am so very happy to see you here.” He held out a hand, and Dellan sniffed it before nudging it with his head. The doc stroked him, inhaling deeply.

  Horvan came over and joined them. “I know you’re more used to dealing with humans, but anything you can tell us would help.”

  Doc smiled. “I can tell you one thing. He smells healthy. That’s important.” He opened his bag and withdrew a stethoscope. “I’m not going to assume he knows what this is, so please communicate it to him.”

  Rael knelt beside Dellan, his hand resting on Dellan’s back. The doc is going to listen to your heart and lungs, to make sure you’re okay. He won’t hurt you.

  Dellan gave a little snort. Good man.

  “Yes, he is a good man,” Horvan agreed.

  The doc listened carefully to Dellan’s heart, his expression neutral. Then he listened to his lungs. He looked at Dellan’s eyes. “Beautiful,” he murmured. Finally he sat back on his haunches and put away the stethoscope.