Keller

by Lynn Hagen

  Keller didn’t plan on going far and knew Hayward would keep an eye on him while he ran. “Listen out for Horace?”

  Nash and Quinn nodded. “I’ll holler for you if he needs you,” Quinn said.

  “I’m heading to my room.” Nash stretched. “It’s been a long night at the pub, and I want to get upstairs to my guys.”

  Keller blew out a slow breath with the knowledge that he was about to be a father. Soon there would be a house filled with children’s laughter and the sound of their tiny feet running around. Beatrice would’ve been thrilled with having babies around, and that made him only miss her even more.

  “Did you guys know Beatrice was sick for a few years before she passed?”

  From the expressions on their faces, they hadn’t.

  “Where’d you hear that?” Quinn asked.

  “Hayward.” Not willing to talk about the guilt he felt, Keller headed for the back door. “I won’t be long.”

  When he stepped into the backyard, Keller stripped and set his clothes on one of the lawn chairs. He shifted and took off, racing for the woods. Instead of running on the ground, Keller took to the trees, climbing along the thick branches.

  The night air smelled wonderful, the sound of the light breeze giving him a sense of peace. He’d felt that way since he’d gotten home, and Keller was sure his subconscious had decided not to return to California before he’d come to that conclusion himself.

  Kendall, Georgia, was magical, holding sway over him like no other place. It was where Keller felt most at home, where he wanted to raise his kids and spend the rest of his life.

  He also loved the fact that he and his brothers were back together. Keller might not know them as well as he should, but he planned on changing that. If they were to live together again, he wanted them all to be close.

  His ears perked up when he heard the slightest footsteps beneath him. His panther stopped swishing his tail and went on high alert as he looked toward the ground. Keller half expected to see Hayward, but instead, he spotted a large gray wolf standing there as it looked around.

  Keller wasn’t sure if the creature had scented him yet. He was high above, and the wind had settled. Gray wolves weren’t indigenous to these parts, so it had to be the demon.

  But why did it keep coming back around? What did it want? Keller didn’t move a muscle as he watched the wolf, studying it as it studied the house.

  A chill raced through him. The demon wasn’t there by accident. After reading Beatrice’s journals, Keller had remembered something he’d forgotten in the oral stories she’d told them as children.

  That a cythraul could be summoned for an act of revenge. That might not be the case, but Keller was mentally poring over the journals, trying to figure out why it was here.

  He wished he could alert his brothers, but Keller didn’t want the wolf to know he was right above it. He wanted time to observe the creature, to watch its moves.

  The wolf looked to its left then moved backward, as if trying to blend into the darkness. Keller gazed at where it had been looking and saw a black panther inching toward them.

  Hayward.

  His brother must’ve scented the demon. Hayward moved slowly, methodically, as he approached. Keller stood, ready to pounce if the demon attacked.

  He just had to be careful of the wolf’s sharp teeth. One bite from a demon could possibly kill him. The journal had accounts of people living through a bite. It was extremely rare, but it happened, although the survivors were left forever wounded. Since Keller didn’t want to lose function in any of his body parts, he needed to be careful.

  Hayward looked up at Keller. Keller looked down at the wolf. The cythraul’s eyes glowed red as it stared up at him. It knew Keller was there.

  Hayward lunged at the wolf. The two locked in battle as Keller made his way down the tree. He shifted and shouted for Nash and Quinn as Hayward tried to clamp his jaws on the wolf’s throat. The wolf jerked to the side, escaping the deathly crush.

  Nash and Quinn rushed from the back of the house as Keller shifted back into his panther and attacked the wolf’s hindquarters, trying to wound it enough to give Hayward half a chance of winning.

  The wolf spun and snapped at Keller’s front leg. Keller jumped out of the way but felt searing pain as he went down.

  Nash and Quinn shifted mid-run, closing the distance. The wolf took off, Quinn and Hayward giving chase as Keller lay there panting through the pain.

  Nash shifted. “Fuck, Keller. Shift for me.”

  He should’ve stayed in the goddamn tree. Keller jerked uncontrollably, his muscles locking up on him. As hard as he tried to shift, his body wouldn’t listen to him. He needed to tell Nash to look in the journals for some kind of home remedy for his bite, but he couldn’t relay that message in his panther form.

  “Just hang on.” Nash scooped Keller from the ground and raced to the house.

  Keller remembered his brother reaching the kitchen, but he blacked out before he could shift and tell Nash what to do.

  * * * *

  Horace felt a bit queasy when he woke up, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. His entire body ached as he climbed out of bed, squinting at the bright sun filtering into the room. He looked at the empty bed and wondered where Keller was.

  If he never felt that heat again he would be a happy man. Horace loved sex, but being fucked nearly twenty-four hours straight hadn’t been fun. It had been a dang chore.

  His backside was sore as he made his way to the ensuite bathroom and took a shower. The hot water felt good pelting against his tired bones. Horace was also starving. Keller had tried to feed him yesterday, but Horace hadn’t had an appetite. At least not for food.

  He looked around for Buttercup but didn’t see his dog anywhere. Horace prayed Buttercup wasn’t gnawing on someone’s shoe or destroying a throw pillow.

  After he dressed he went downstairs to look for his mate and dog. The O’Brien men were standing around the dining room table arguing. Even Nomad was there.

  But Keller wasn’t.

  Layne came out of the kitchen, Connor strapped to his chest with some kind of cloth sling. He hurried over to Horace. “We need to talk.”

  “Where’s Keller?” Horace looked around but didn’t see him anywhere. “Where’d he go? Have you seen Buttercup? I know he needs to go outside.”

  Maybe Keller had taken Buttercup for a walk, but Horace seriously doubted that. He knew the two hated each other.

  Layne took Horace’s hands in his. “Last night something happened.”

  “What?”

  “First off, Quinn took Buttercup to Stanton. The dog was all over the place, barking at everyone, and he peed on the kitchen floor.”

  Horace groaned. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Stevie cleaned it up.”

  Horace let Layne lead him to the couch. When they sat, Layne told him about something called a cythraul and how it had attacked Keller. Horace already had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that panthers existed, and now Layne was telling him demons were real, too?

  “Where’s Keller?” Horace shot to his feet. “How badly was he hurt?”

  His heart thumped wildly, and his stomach cramped. Horace was barely able to stand on his own two feet. Dizziness overwhelmed him until he sat back down.

  Layne took his hands again, and Horace didn’t pull away. “From what the brothers told me, a demon bite can be fatal.”

  Horace’s entire world spun. Fatal? Did that mean Keller would die? Tears leaked from his eyes as he thought of being in this world without Keller. The guy had been rude and a jerk when they’d first met, but now Horace couldn’t imagine his life without Keller in it.

  And Horace was no longer in heat, which, if he was correct, meant he was pregnant. Horace didn’t want to raise the baby on his own. “Damn it, Layne. Where’s Keller?”

  “In here,” Nash said from the entryway to the dining room.

  Horace got up and hurrie
d toward Nash. No matter how fast he walked, it felt as though the dining room was farther and farther away. He grabbed the wall to steady himself.

  “Careful.” Nash laid a tentative hand on Horace’s shoulder. “I know it’s not an easy thing to do, but I need you to pull yourself together. Deep, even breaths, Horace.”

  Horace nodded, sucked in a lungful, and blew out slowly from his mouth. Nash led him into the dining room, and Horace now saw why the brothers had been gathered around the table.

  A large black panther lay on it, his breathing fast and unsteady. This was Keller. Horace just knew it. The panther’s eyes were closed, and there was a slow-bleeding wound on one of his front legs.

  “He was bitten,” Nash said. “It’s a good sign that he’s still alive. That means he just might pull through.”

  Horace blinked back tears as he spotted a stack of leather-bound books next to the panther’s head. Nash tapped the pile.

  “We’re brewing something in the kitchen that might help him. Luckily Layne mentioned seeing Keller in my aunt’s bedroom reading these. Layne’s the one who went in there and found the journals.”

  Stevie came from the kitchen, sweat lining his brow. “I think it’s almost ready. The soup, or whatever it is, has thickened up enough. Does someone want to check it for me?”

  Stevie met Horace’s gaze. He ran around the table and pulled Horace into a tight hug. “You have to be strong. We’re doing everything we can to help your mate.”

  Mate. His partner for life. The man he was starting a family with and someone who’d come to mean something to Horace. He burst out crying, unable to help himself. Stevie soothed his hand down Horace’s back, shushing him.

  Horace allowed his emotions to overwhelm him for a moment, allowed that release of fear and anguish, then pulled himself together and took a step back.

  He squared his shoulders and looked right at Nash. “Tell me what I need to do to save him.”

  Horace was willing to do anything.

  “We have to use the concoction and spread it over the bite,” Nash said. “It’s supposed to draw the poison out.”

  “Then give me the stuff,” Horace said. “I’ll bath Keller in it.”

  Quinn touched Horace’s hand. “He might not have full use of his arm, even if we manage to save him.”

  “I don’t care.” Horace wiped at his eyes. “I would prefer him one hundred percent better, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  He shelved the thought of a demon. Horace needed to focus, not freak out. Keller needed him, and Horace would be there for…his mate. His mate. Horace gave a quick nod, accepting what Keller was to him. He also accepted the fact that he could have a baby inside him.

  Keller needed Horace’s full support, and that was what Horace would give him.

  Stevie went into the kitchen and came back with a pot with something green inside of it. The mixture bubbled and smelled like they’d brewed grass.

  “It’s a lot of herbs,” Nash explained. “Some I had to run to the market for. We need to let it cool off first.”

  If this worked, Horace would owe Layne a debt he would never be able to repay. It was Layne’s quick thinking that just might save Keller’s life.

  “Can’t we throw some ice cubes in it to help it cool off faster?” Horace asked.

  “We need it to remain the consistency of paste,” Quinn said. “Ice might water it down.”

  Waiting was torturous. Horace looked around the room and noticed that Nomad had retreated to a corner, watching them with intense blue eyes.

  When Nomad noticed Horace staring at him, the guy looked away.

  “I think we should take a chance,” Stevie said.

  Horace pulled his attention back to Stevie, who had his finger stuck in the glop. “It’s still warm, but I don’t think it’ll burn him.”

  Horace moved around the table and scooped a handful of the herbs. It was warm to the touch, almost too warm, so he blew on it before he smeared it over the wound.

  He repeated the process until Keller’s leg was covered in the green stuff. “Now what?”

  “We wait for the concoction to do its job,” Quinn said.

  “How long is that?” Horace accepted the hand towel Stevie gave him and wiped off his hand.

  Quinn and Nash shrugged. “The journal didn’t say,” Quinn said.

  Layne brought Horace a glass of orange juice and a plate of buttered toast. “You’ll need your energy.”

  Horace stared at the sleeping babe tucked close to Layne. His chest tightened as he thought of his own child. None of this felt real, as if he were walking through some sort of dream. He’d been so quick to decide that he wanted a child, but now he was terrified. What if Keller died? The two still had a lot to work out between them, but Horace couldn’t deny that he was starting to have real feelings for his mate.

  He took a seat and rested his hand on Keller’s dark fur, praying the herbs worked.

  “Eat,” Layne insisted.

  Horace took a small bite of his toast and a sip of his juice. He didn’t have an appetite, but Layne was right. He would need his energy, especially if this would take a while.

  Stevie went to the kitchen and returned with a large bowl of cheese puffs. “You already know snacking helps me deal with stress. You should try it.”

  Stevie grabbed a handful and laid them on Horace’s plate. A few tumbled to the table, and some were soaked in the butter from his toast. They looked unappealing, and Horace wasn’t going to eat them. Now his toast was ruined, too.

  They all jumped when Keller started shaking and released a loud yelp. Horace shot to his feet, horrified at the black ooze bubbling up from the wound.

  He looked at Nash and Quinn. “What’s happening? Why does he look like he’s in pain?”

  “The poison is leaving his body,” Quinn said. “I’m gonna get a wet towel to get that black crap off him.”

  Stevie covered his mouth. “Sorry, but that smell is making me want to throw up. I’m gonna go to my room for fresh air.”

  “I don’t think my son should be around this.” Layne hurried behind Stevie as the two left the room.

  “If you need emotional support, you know where to find me,” Stevie called out.

  Horace ignored them as he watched Quinn clean the wound. The guy had even put on some latex gloves, the thick yellow ones used for washing dishes. Horace didn’t blame Quinn. He wouldn’t want that stuff touching him, either.

  When Quinn had wiped it all away, he took the gloves off and applied more of the green glop. Keller settled but still shook slightly. Horace went around to the back of his mate and laid his head on Keller’s body.

  He wasn’t sure if Keller knew he was there, but if there was a chance he did, Horace wanted his mate to know he wasn’t leaving his side.

  Chapter Eight

  Keller slowly came to. The sunshine was blinding as he opened his eyes. He was lying in his bed, in his human form, buck-naked. Keller drew in a breath and gritted his teeth as pain lashed through his left arm. He closed his eyes and tried to center the pain, using the technique he learned when he’d started meditating years ago.

  He drew from his core, and the throbbing lessened but not enough to give him any kind of relief. How had he survived the bite? He thought for sure he would die after the attack.

  “Keller? Are you awake?”

  He exhaled at Horace’s soft welcoming voice. It soothed him in ways he never thought possible as a sense of peace washed over him. If Keller had had any doubts before about being with Horace, that feeling was gone. His little human was exactly what Keller needed, wanted, and craved. Not just sexually, either.

  He’d been a fool before but not anymore. Keller wasn’t screwing up his chance with Horace. The guy deserved to be cherished, and that was exactly what Keller was going to do.

  He opened his eyes and stared into his mate’s green ones. “I’m awake, sweetheart.”

  Horace’s breath caught, his eyes shined with tears,
and his chin wobbled. He slid his arms around Keller, holding him, and that was what Keller needed. His mate softly cried against his shoulder. Keller curled his right arm around him, holding him close, inhaling his scent, thankful that fate had given him Horace.

  “I’m okay, sweetheart.” He kissed Horace’s temple. “I’m okay.”

  “I thought I lost you.” Horace pulled away and used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. “That made me realize that I don’t care if you’re a jerk or a panther or if you rearranged my insides to carry your baby. I don’t care about any of that, just as long as I didn’t lose you.”

  Keller grinned. “It takes more than a demon bite to put me down.” He kissed Horace again, hating to see his mate in such distress. “How long have I been out?”

  Horace curled next to him, as if trying to bury himself under Keller. “Almost three days.” His mate looked up at him, and Keller brushed his dark strands from his forehead. “Why did you go after it? Why did you have to fight it?”

  “To protect you.” He cupped Horace’s cheek and then slid his hand to his mate’s flat stomach. “To protect both of you. I couldn’t let it get near the house.”

  “But you almost died!” Horace slammed the side of his fist against Keller’s chest. “You can’t take those risks.”

  Keller circled his hand around his mate’s and drew them close to his lips. “I’ll take whatever risks I have to in order to make sure you two are always safe.”

  “It’s not fair.” Horace looked away. “You’re just as important as I am.”

  He simply held his mate. Keller wasn’t going to win this round. There was no use arguing about it. He didn’t want to argue. Keller just wanted to soak in Horace’s scent, the feel of his mate in his arms, and breathe out a relieved breath that he hadn’t left his mate or unborn child behind.

  But that fucking demon was going back to Hell. Keller would make sure of it. The demon had tried to take him away from the most important person in his life, and for that, there was no room in his heart for forgiveness.

  “Can you send Hayward in here?” He couldn’t stop kissing Horace’s temple. “I need a moment with him.”