Without Porpoise

by Tymber Dalton

  “What things? You insinuating I had something to do wit’ dis?”

  “No. Not that. I mean…things. Shifter stuff.”

  The alligator’s amber gaze was unreadable behind his sunglasses. “I know lots of stuff,” he said. “Family tradition, as it were.”

  “So are you like head of the alligators or something?”

  “Not exactly.” He smiled, without showing teeth or good humor. “You might say I decided to make my relocation to Florida permanent for more reasons than just the weather.” He glanced at Sean. “I’m not exactly on speaking terms with my father or my uncle.”

  “What did you do?” He winced when he asked it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Naw, I understand. Let’s just say I have a serious disagreement with the way things are done and thought it might be better for my health if I found a new place to live. Florida is sort of a destination for expatriated alligator shifters.”

  “Really?”

  “We get along and mind our own business. Weather’s good. Some of us hook up with other shifter groups.”

  “Like dolphins?”

  “Dolphins, wolves, any number of shifters.” He slowly nodded. “There’s not too many gators in this area. Gator shifters,” he clarified. “I made friends and adopted family here who I’m a lot more loyal and loving too than some people I’m related to by blood. Understand?”

  “Yeah. I’m glad you’re on our side.” He had a thought. “You ever think about going back to live there?”

  “Naw. I’m happy here.”

  He had an epiphany. “You’re like in line to take over or something, aren’t you?”

  “Mebbe. Don’t mean I necessarily want it. I’m happy here and with y’all.”

  “Do you think you’re safe here?”

  Wyatt shrugged again and went quiet, his focus returning to the shoreline. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so Sean let it drop.

  He eased the throttle forward as they entered the channel and headed south toward the Tom Adams Bridge. They were a small enough vessel they didn’t need to wait for it to open to pass under it. As they edged their way under it, Sean breathed another sigh of relief. Over a dozen boats still dotted the waters in the Ski Alley area, all of them fishing.

  “We won’t look outta place,” Wyatt observed.

  Sean nodded and steered out of the channel, closer to shore. He shifted into neutral. “Grab the anchor, would you? It’s in the locker up front.”

  Once Wyatt had it set, Sean shut off the engines and headed to the stern to grab a rod. The incoming current kept the bow facing south, with the key’s shore less than fifty yards to their starboard side.

  They listened.

  And listened.

  And listened.

  After thirty minutes, Sean reeled in his empty hook and headed for the console. “Pull it. We need to move. I don’t hear it.”

  Wyatt did, staying in the bow as Sean slowly nudged them back north, under the bridge, and to the west into a shallower channel leading through mangroves to another group of houses. They couldn’t anchor there, due to the shallow depth and narrow channel dimensions, but Sean shut the engines off anyway.

  After fifteen minutes they moved again. Back around, under the bridge, and to the south, parking themselves in a shallow cove formed by the riprap seawall of two condo buildings next to each other.

  Nothing.

  Fighting his frustration and losing a battle with daylight, Sean moved them again, around to the south and then back up into yet another small, natural channel leading into private canals.

  Watt waved at him from the bow. Sean shut down the engines and listened.

  Faintly, they heard a parrot squawk.

  Sean froze, barely breathing, poised to move.

  Wyatt kept his head cocked and listened intently. When they heard it again, he scrambled back to the stern and yanked his shirt off.

  “What are you doing?” Sean whispered, afraid to miss another sound.

  He emptied his pockets into Sean’s hands. “Gonna find that damn bird.” He stripped down to his boxers and jumped over the stern, not bothering to use the swim platform. He sailed his wet boxers over the transom, where they landed on the deck with a wet plop.

  “Anchor your ass here. Don’t move.”

  He sank beneath the water. A moment later, Sean spotted him, shifted into alligator form and quickly swimming toward the houses in the canal.

  Sean dumped Wyatt’s things onto the console and hurried up to the bow to anchor. After ensuring they were secure and out of the way of any boat traffic, he grabbed his phone and pulled up the maps feature.

  Pencil poised on the scratch pad his dad kept in the dash, Sean waited until he got a fix on the position before scribbling it down. He used the compass to get a fix on Wyatt’s heading.

  He started to punch Emery’s number into his phone, then stopped. What if they were wrong? What if they didn’t find them?

  As much as he wanted to get Joseph and his dad back safely, he knew Emery would go blasting in there with as many shifters as he could wrangle.

  That wouldn’t help anyone.

  The sun slowly arced lower across the sky, making its daily slide toward the western horizon as Sean waited fifteen minutes. Twenty.

  At the thirty minute mark he was about to pull anchor and go after Wyatt when he spotted an alligator quickly swimming his way. As Wyatt made it to the back of the boat, he ducked beneath the surface. Sean met him at the swim platform with a towel ready.

  “Did you find it?” he asked before Wyatt was even all the way out of the water.

  “Gimme my phone.”

  Sean grabbed it for him, watching as he swiped through screens to the map function. After zooming in and studying it for a minute, he slowly nodded. “I think mebbe.”

  “Then we need to call Em.”

  He shook his head, frowning as he studied the map. “No, not yet. I only found the bird, not your dads. Gimme your phone.”

  Sean handed it over. Wyatt stared at the map on his phone as he quickly punched in a number from memory on Sean’s and waited for someone to answer.

  “Yeah, it’s Wyatt. Listen, no questions. I need you and your yak right now…Meet us at Thatcher’s Marina in twenty minutes…Yeah, I mean right now…Don’t you give me no guff…One word—bail…Yeah, dat what I thought. You be there, hear me?” He hung up.

  “Who was that?”

  “My damn brother. Younger. Gus.” He grabbed his shorts and pulled them on, leaving his sodden boxers on the deck. “Let’s go.” He headed forward to pull anchor.

  “What was that about bail?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Momma don’t know he got his silly ass popped for a fight at a bar last Christmas. I bailed him out and promised not to tell her. He got probation.” He flashed another smile. “It’s a handy thing to have over his damn fool head.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  In less than an hour, they were losing daylight, but they were back in the canal. Gus Belaforte had been waiting for them at Thatcher’s when they pulled up to the dock. It took them less than five minutes to load the ten-foot kayak on board and head out again with the three of them.

  “What’s the plan?” Sean asked Wyatt. “And when do we call Emery?”

  “When I say and not a minute sooner, hear?”

  Sean nodded.

  They returned to the entrance of the canal, hidden from the houses on the other side by thick mangroves. Wyatt helped Gus slide the kayak into the water and get his brother into it.

  “Now what?” Sean asked.

  Wyatt glanced around and stooped low on the dive platform before pulling his shorts off and handing them to Sean. He slipped into the water before answering. “You wait here.” Then he sank, shifted, and headed up into the canal with Gus behind him in the kayak.

  Sean felt more than helpless. He grabbed one of the poles and pretended to fish, but none of the vessels still on the
water seemed to pay him any attention.

  That was when he saw the dolphin. A small one, swimming alone.

  Sean froze as he watched it exit the canal and slowly circle along the edge of the mangroves.

  Fuck.

  It seemed to be watching him, but from its size he knew it couldn’t be Erik.

  He couldn’t help but keep his eye on it, staring at it as it swam back and forth along the end of the mangroves before going down the canal again.

  No, he didn’t even know if it was a shifter or a bio-dolphin, but every instinct in him screamed shifter.

  He was about ready to crank the engines and head down the canal after the gators when he spotted Gus in the kayak, paddling fast and heading his way.

  “Where’s Wyatt?” he asked as he reached over the side and helped him pull close.

  “He coming.” He tipped his head back. “Don’t worry.”

  “Did you find the parrot?”

  He let out a snort. “Forget the parrot. We done better.”

  The small dolphin returned, this time heading for them. Gus seemed to interpret Sean’s trepidation and let out a laugh. “Calm down.”

  The dolphin dove under. A young, naked woman with long dark hair and green eyes appeared at his swim platform. She looked pale despite her slightly golden skin tone, as if she hadn’t spent any time outside. Before Sean could let out a squawk of fear, she pulled herself into the boat and ducked down, below the level of the gunwale, so no one outside the boat could see her, and cowered in the narrow area between the console and the side.

  “Who the fuck is she?” Sean demanded.

  “Well, hand her a damn towel, at least. Where your manners, you?”

  Sean grabbed the one Wyatt had used earlier and tossed it at her. She took it and pulled it over her, but didn’t speak.

  He wouldn’t claim to be an expert on all the dolphin shifters in the area, but he knew he’d never seen her before.

  Wyatt appeared as Sean was helping Gus load the kayak. He climbed up into the stern and grabbed his shorts, but tossed his shirt to the woman.

  She muttered something at Wyatt that Sean took to be gratitude, even though he didn’t quite catch what she said. She pulled the shirt on. It fell to her knees.

  “Okay,” Sean said, at the end of his nerves. “Who the hell is she?”

  Wyatt had an odd look on his face as he stared at her. The gator shifter stepped close to her and knelt down, extending a hand.

  Then it hit Sean. He knew that look. Knew it damn well.

  The woman stared up at Wyatt, her eyes wide. She sat up, ducking her head and avoiding Sean’s stare, but took Wyatt’s hand, hers engulfed by it, his ebony skin contrasting with hers.

  Wyatt let out a sigh. “We ain’t quite got past the particulars yet, like names, but I do believe you boys have just met my mate. And, coincidentally, she’s the sister of the fucker behind abducting Joseph and Sam. And she’s pointed us right to where they are. She said they still alive as of a few minutes ago.”

  The alligator pulled her into his lap. She stared at him as her arms encircled his neck.

  Then she rested her head against his chest and softly cried. Sean wasn’t so dense he couldn’t recognize relief when he heard it.

  Wyatt looked up at Sean. “Get us the fuck outta here, Sean,” he quietly said. “They’ll be after her here shortly and we need to get movin’ fast to get back to Emery.”

  * * * *

  Questions consumed Sean, but he knew they’d have to wait until they returned to the marina. There was enough light left he could easily make out channel markers and avoid shallows. They made it back to the marina just as the last light seeped out of the sky, cloaking the landscape in deep shadows.

  Sean helped Gus with his kayak while Wyatt scooped up the woman and carried her to Sean’s truck. She sat between them on the seat, but cowered away from Sean, clinging to Wyatt’s side, his arm protectively draped around her shoulders.

  “How am I supposed to explain this to Emery?” Sean asked him.

  “What?” Wyatt asked.

  “The sister of our dads’ abductor. How am I supposed to keep him from wanting to kill her?”

  “I can tell you where they are,” she softly said, so quietly Sean barely heard her. Her voice sounded thickly accented, Spanish, if he had to guess, although he wasn’t sure of her origin.

  Wyatt stared into her green eyes, an entranced expression on his face. “What’s your name, sugar?”

  “Marisela Esparza.”

  Sean struggled to focus on the road and not run into anyone. Wyatt cupped her cheek in his other hand and leaned in, kissing her.

  She let out a soft moan that stirred even Sean’s cock.

  If it wasn’t for the situation, he would have tackled Emery as soon as he walked in the door at home.

  Wyatt brushed his thumb across her chin. “Wyatt Belaforte.” He gently smiled. “I hope you don’t have anything against alligators.”

  She laid her hand over his, nuzzling him.

  “You want to tell me what the fuck, dude?” Sean snarked.

  Wyatt’s gaze never left her. “Gus and me, we were homing in on that damn bird. She went streaking past us in the water. Then she stopped and turned at the same time I did. She swam up to me and stared at me, and I just knew.” He looked up at Sean. “You and Emery. You know what I’m talking about.”

  “I didn’t know alligators have mates.”

  “We do. Not like you dolphins usually do, but she felt it immediately with me. Like Emery did with you.” He arched an eyebrow at Sean. “She started thinking at me and I’ll be damned I could understand her. I ordered her to the boat and me and Gus followed.”

  “How’d she know you speak Spanish?”

  “It wasn’t a language. It was just images. She showed me how she left. Her brother thinks she walked to the store. She ran to the water and got away that way, showed me mental pictures of Joseph and Sam, her brother, everything.”

  She looked at Sean. “Thank you,” she softly said.

  Sean’s grip tightened on the wheel. “They’re not gonna believe this.”

  “He’ll kill me if he finds me,” she said. “Hector and that Erik. They are…loco.”

  “Muy loco,” Sean mumbled.

  “We already knew Erik was crazier than a shithouse rat,” Wyatt said. “I think the time for niceties has passed. Good thing I already called in firepower this morning. They should be getting to Englewood real soon, if they ain’t here already.”

  “The sharks? I thought we weren’t calling them.”

  He let out a snort. “Hell, naw.” His gaze hardened. “I’m talking people who make the sharks look like guppies.”

  Sean wasn’t sure he wanted to know any more than that. The sharks were fucking scary enough. If there was something that could out-scary them, it had to be hellaciously wicked.

  “Don’t worry,” Wyatt added. “Dey friends of mine.”

  They’d reached Sean’s street. “First, Emery is in charge,” he told Wyatt. “Second, we need to move everyone somewhere Erik doesn’t know about. He may already know about our house. He knows where the Nadels live, and he might know where my parents and my business are.”

  “Laura has a friend here in Englewood,” Wyatt reminded him.

  Sean snapped his fingers. “Good.”

  They pulled into the driveway and Sean barely had the truck in park before Wyatt was climbing out, once again scooping Marisela into his arms and following Sean to the front door.

  Emery and the others stood when they entered.

  Unfortunately, Sean noticed someone had brought his mom to the house.

  “Who the hell is that?” Emery asked.

  Sean wanted to answer, but saw Wyatt was already heading to the back of the house. “Bathroom or bedroom?” Sean asked him.

  “No time for niceties, and we both need a shower anyway. Efficiency, my friend.”

  “Leave the door unlocked. I’ll bring stuff in for
you.”

  “Thanks, boss.”

  Sean turned, holding up his hands to stop Emery and Louise from following Wyatt down the hallway.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Emery asked.

  Sean peered around them to where his mom sat on the couch, looking shell shocked. “Just give me a minute, okay? It’s…complicated.”

  “Is she a dolphin?” Emery asked. “What’s she doing with Wyatt?”

  He didn’t dare drop his hands. Now the others were crowding close. “Laura, your friend in Englewood. She one of us?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, she’s in the pod. Why?”

  “Call her, right now. Is she about her size?” He hooked a thumb down the hallway behind him.

  “Um, taller, I think. Why? Sean, what the hell is going on?”

  “Perfect. Call her and tell her she’s got company coming in about half an hour. Secret. She’ll need something to wear.” He started down the hall but stopped and turned. “And she better have a spare bedroom ready. And maybe earplugs.”

  Sean headed down the hall to their bedroom. When Emery and Louise tried to follow, he turned again and held up his arms again. “Please, let me do this before they get too busy, okay? Just wait a minute.”

  Sean left them standing at the end of the hall and hurried into the master bedroom. He grabbed a T-shirt he suspected would be large on her, and a pair of running shorts. Then some extra towels.

  The water was already running in the shower in the guest bathroom. He cracked the door open enough he could stick his arm inside and drop the stuff onto the counter. “Towels and something for her to wear.”

  A chuffing, threatening growl sounded from inside. Sean yanked his arm back and pulled the door closed. “You’ve got ten minutes, Wyatt,” he yelled. “We need to move fast.”

  He turned and nearly let out a scream. Emery was standing right behind him.

  “All right, babe. What. The. Fuck?” Emery sounded strained to his very last nerve.

  He couldn’t blame him.

  Sean spun him around and marched him back into the living room, where he told everyone the abbreviated version of events.

  Emery’s face reddened, his expression growing hard and cold. “You mean to tell me Wyatt’s fucking her in our bathroom right now, instead of us questioning her to find out where Dad and Sam are? Sean, what the fuck is wrong with you?”