by Lisa Oliver
“It wouldn’t.”
“It most definitely would,” Fergus said. “And I’d end up with your grumpy mood on top of my anger at my momma’s lack of legs. So, we’d spend the night, not talking, not loving on each other. I’d get a lousy night’s sleep, so by the time I got to the bakery the following morning, I’d barely be able to function. I’d still be in a shitty mood, to the point I would probably yell at Sensational Sarah. Then she would cry, and probably quit her job, then customers would be angry with me because I couldn’t serve and bake at the same time, and in the meantime, you and I are still at odds, so I am feeling heartsick too, which means I’d be yelling at everyone and anyone and what does that achieve? Nothing at all, except the ruination of my business, the negative impact on yours and worse, a rift between you and I which would be excruciating. And that’s all without factoring momma into the equation.”
“What’s momma got to do with all this?” Cam was still trying to make sense of the fiasco Fergus had described with Rocky and its subsequent knock on effect with other customers, and their relationship.
“You said it yourself. She’s got no legs, so every time I see her, I’m going to be reminded of what went down in that compound. And remember, I’m hanging onto my anger, tightly like a security blanket to the point I can’t feel anything else. So, every day I see momma that festering anger mass is going to get bigger, to the point my mood is ugly every single day. I won’t be able to talk to someone without complaining. I’d miss the beauty of my gorgeous tree in the back yard, because in my anger I wouldn’t even notice it. Instead of celebrating my momma’s life, and the fact I have a wonderful mate who loves me, I’d be bitter and horrible, and no one would want to be around me anymore.” Fergus huffed. “That’s what anger does to people. The anger consumes them so much, they forget to look for the positives that could make them smile.”
“I don’t think you’d be that bad,” Cam said, not quite sure how he’d lost control of the conversation.
“Anyone can behave that badly, including me.” Taking a step closer, Fergus rested his head on Cam’s chest. His voice was slightly muffled, but Cam could still hear him. “Anger is a choice, don’t you see? Yes, some anger stems from deep-felt pain so bad it just has no other way of coming out, but ultimately, how we react to any situation at all is a personal choice. The anger doesn’t happen to us, take us over and render us useless for anything else – a person chooses to take their anger out on others.”
“Anger can sometimes be a good thing,” Cam said, thinking of some of his military situations where anger was the only thing that had kept him alive.
“I’m sure you’ve had more experience with that, than I have,” Fergus agreed. “But anger isn’t sustainable, just like hate. If those two emotions are clung to, they blind a person to the good in the world. You know, the person I’m ultimately angry with is the fold leader. If he’d been a decent man, then momma would likely still have her legs and she wouldn’t be grieving for the loss of my two half-brothers, or the rest of her family. But he’s dead. My anger won’t touch him now, so there’s no point in it. I’m making a conscious decision to let it go, following my lovely momma’s example.”
Cam couldn’t help scoffing even as his arms slid around Fergus’s back. “You’ll be telling me next you forgive him or some such shit. The man was a monster. He could die a thousand terrible deaths and that wouldn’t make up for all the harm he’s caused.”
“There’s not a lot of point in forgiving a dead man either.” Fergus chuckled. “When people say they forgive someone, that is their way of acknowledging their hurt and anger, and letting those negative emotions go. Some people find that process comforting, and it allows them to move past a tragedy and go forward with their lives. That’s what momma and I have chosen to do – move forward with our lives.”
“And what about me and the anger you claim I’m carrying?” Cam deliberately rolled his hips into Fergus’s, loving the way Fergus’s cheeks flushed red. “You said yourself I hang onto my emotions tight. What do you recommend for me?”
Fergus’s head came up. “You start by smiling,” he said with a cheeky grin.
“Like this?” Cam stretched his mouth muscles into a grin, or it might have been a grimace, he wasn’t sure.
“More like this.” Fergus’s fingers tugged at the corner of Cam’s lips, trying to force them upwards. “There you go.”
“Really?” Cam worried his cheek muscles were going to crack. “Then what do I do?”
“Okay, you have tight shoulders.” Fergus leaned back and eyed him critically. “Probably comes from maintaining your macho image all the time. You have to shake them out.” He dropped his arms by his side and did an upper body shimmy. “Like this.”
“You do realize we’re still standing on the footpath, don’t you?” You do realize every rock of your body is rubbing on my dick.
“You were the one who wanted this chat before we got home. Now shake your shoulders out, like I did.”
Cam tried moving his shoulders in the same way as Fergus demonstrated. It didn’t work because his arms were still resting behind Fergus’s back.
“No, no, no.” Fergus stepped back, which meant Cam’s arms dropped. “Imagine moving like the agitator in one of those old washing machines. Shake your arms and shoulders out.”
He demonstrated again, but as they weren’t standing together anymore, Cam was now distracted by the sway of Fergus’s hips. “Maybe you should show me more of these techniques at home.” Without clothes blocking my view.
“Nope.” Fergus shook his head. “We do it now. Otherwise, you’re going to carry that anger into our house, where it will seep into the walls and ruin the positive vibes our lovely home has got.”
“We’ll go into the back yard. I won’t step foot in the house until we’re done.”
“We do it now. Shake babe. Shake the stresses out of those hunky shoulders of yours.”
Which is how Cam, reclusive and slightly arrogantly aloof bar owner and all round badass, found himself shaking his body, in the middle of the footpath, a block from their home. And of course, when the neighborhood children thought he and Fergus were dancing, they had to join in too. The things I do to see Fergus smile.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Someone is in our house. As soon as Cam was aware of it, he heard Fergus squeak and then seem to slump beside him. The dark room told him it was still the middle of the freaking night and someone was doing a piss poor job of trying to get Fergus off the bed. Intruders, Cam’s honey badger snarled. Intruders after our mate. Fucking Cannel and Brown – Cam could smell them. Without second guessing his actions, he let his animal side take over.
Shaking out his fur, Cam whipped around and snarled. He was bigger than the natural form of his kind, a lot bigger. Brown and Cannel, they had Fergus’s limp body between them and seemed to be doing their best to melt into the wall.
“Back off, Cam.” Cannel put his hand out as though that would stop him. “I mean it. Back off now, or the bull shifting dragon will get hurt.”
Stupid fucking council guards. Cam took two steps to the side of the bed, his mouth open, showing all his teeth. Fergus’s torso was being hugged close to Cannel’s chest, his mate’s arms limp, his face slack. Brown had hold of Fergus’s feet, his arms wrapped around his mate’s calves as though that would save him. Cam braced his feet against the mattress and Brown yelled.
“We’re going to bring him back. We won’t be long. It’s only a short acting drug. He has to talk, for our report. He has to…”
Cam heard ‘drug’ and didn’t care about anything else. Launching himself off the bed, he snapped at Brown’s legs first, catching the denim of the man’s jeans in his teeth, the ripping caused as Cam’s feet hit the ground. He roared then, a rattle roar, known only to his kind, furious at not hitting his mark. Cannel, left to handle Fergus’s dead weight on his own, was moving towards the door, and yes, wolves could move faster than honey badgers on open
ground, but a honey badger could speed over short distances if necessary. And as far as Cam was concerned, protecting Fergus came under the ‘necessary’ heading.
He baled the man up, in the corner of the room, his tail down, his four feet planted firmly on the carpet. He couldn’t attack Cannel, who was wearing Fergus’s body as a frontal shield. Not yet, anyway.
“You don’t want to do anything stupid, Cam.” Cannel’s eyes were wide as he cowered back. But Cam could hear the rustle of clothes behind him and knew Brown was creeping up on him. He took another two steps closer towards Cannel, and as the whisper of air behind him moved, he did too – bunting his stout nose under Fergus’s knees, lunging for Cannel’s waist.
In his panic, Cannel threw Fergus aside, which was exactly Cam’s intention. With Brown coming over him from the back, and Cannel blindly hitting out at his front, Cam turned to one side, snapping and snarling, tearing any flesh he could reach between the two men, his loose skin allowing him to twist out of any hands that managed to hold him, his claws making mincemeat of any skin that fell under them.
The pair were disorientated, many of their hits landing on each other instead of Cam. One of them, Cannel by the smell of him, landed on his back, trying a choke hold around his neck, but Cam shook, and his skin slipped and as Cam’s shifted head was a lot smaller than the bulk of his body, he twisted out easily. The scent of blood filled the air, and with Fergus still sprawled on the floor by the door, Cam was incensed. As soon as he was free, he turned and attacked again – up on two legs, using claws and teeth; even his scent glands came into play at one point, filling the room with a foul stench that was going to be difficult to clean out.
“Wait. Wait.” Brown backed off, gasping as he slid down the wall. Cannel was already lying on his side, groaning and clutching at a large scratch in his belly. “Shift man. For fuck’s sake, shift. Let’s talk about this like adults.”
Cam grunted, backing up so his body was between the council guards and his mate. He just stood there, glaring, his lips still up, showing his teeth, his back ramrod straight. He felt his posture said all he had to say.
“Fine man, don’t shift.” Brown ran his hands through his hair. It came away bloody. “Look, you have to understand, you and that fucking dragon of yours have made us look seriously bad with the higher ups. Gower had no right to promise we’d leave you alone, not after the shit you pulled.”
Gower. Now Cam remembered the name of the familiar face. Good man. I owe him a drink or three.
“Innocents died, man, don’t you get it? Women and children, not to mention every man in that fold. They all died. Someone has to answer for that.”
Cam didn’t move. The fold leader and the council guards were responsible for the deaths. He and Fergus had nothing to do with any of it.
“Gods, you’re a pain in the ass in that form, do you know that? I’m not going to be able to get the stench out of my nose for a month.”
You’re still talking. Count that as a win.
“The fact is, your mate and his mother are the only two people alive from that fold.” Cannel had managed to right himself, although he kept a torn piece of his shirt over his nose, muffling his words. “They need to be available to talk to the higher ups about all they know.”
Cam shook his head very slowly and deliberately.
“You can’t hide them both forever,” Brown yelled. “We’re being investigated now. Three of our men died as well. They’re making out we’re incompetent, that we didn’t factor in the leader chipping all his members.”
Ooh. Cam wasn’t going to let that go unchallenged. Shifting back to his human form in the space of a blink, he snarled with human teeth this time, his nudity not bothering him, although the stink his animal half left behind did – not that he’d let that show. “You didn’t factor that in, even though you were warned about it. You went in, all guns blazing – shit, I heard the gunfire start before I’d even got over the wall. Instead of sneaking in, catching the leader unaware, making sure he didn’t have access to that damn tablet you were waving about like a trophy, you dropped the ball. Those deaths are on your head and Fergus and Marybelle had nothing to do with any of it.”
“We have to have something to show for…”
“You have got something.” Cam flexed his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve got a tablet, you’ve got the chips, you’ve got solid proof nearly all of those innocent deaths weren’t caused by council guards. You’ve probably got records, sales of shifter children and the marks they went to. You’ve got enough to keep you going for a dozen lifetimes ironing out this mess.”
“Nearly all of those innocent deaths?” Brown looked puzzled.
“The guards on the raid were trigger happy. Expect to get reprimanded for that. Out of all the guards I saw by the front gate, only Gower had any experience at all. He actually looked like he knew what he was doing. You wanted a showy arrest – live bodies to drag in front of the council so they can pin a medal on your chest. Well, shit happens. Thanks to your stupidity dozens of innocents died. Man up and take responsibility.”
“You were there,” Cannel’s eyes narrowed. “We could take you in and question you all we damn well like. It’s not like your dragon will stop us this time.”
“Try it. In fact, go for it. I’m more than happy to stand in front of your superiors and tell them what I know. How you knew about the chips the fold leader was using but didn’t take the warnings that the fold members might have them implanted seriously. How guns were fired before anyone got to the leader’s house. How the guards chosen for the raid were still wet behind their ears and probably shot at the first thing that moved. How you tried to take an innocent woman, who had been a prisoner for god knows how long, into custody, for questioning when she’d been severely injured, something else you completely ignored. How you sneaked into my house, DRUGGED my mate and tried to take him by force, because you’re too chicken livered to face his shifted form.”
Cam lowered his voice as Fergus stirred. At least one thing the guards had said was true and the drug did appear to be short acting. “I’ll tell them all that and more. And do you know what else I will do? When I’ve told informed the council of your incompetence, explained every single detail of what you did wrong, I’ll make more calls and start talking to my friends in high places as well. I might be known in your circles as a fucking assassin, but I’ve spent a century making solid connections with people that matter. There’s not a higher up in the military, or the shifter and paranormal councils who doesn’t owe me a favor. Imagine what’s going to happen to your careers when I start talking. You’re lucky I shifted when you stole in here. If I’d stayed in this form, you’d both have broken necks. As it is, you’re only breathing because the taste of human flesh gives my animal side gas.”
Brown gagged and even Cannel’s face went green. Cam sneered. “Yeah, I’ve done a lot of things in my life, not all of which I’m proud of. But I’ve never hurt an innocent and I’ll be damned if I let any get hurt now. This is your final warning. Come near this town again, and you’ll be dead. Come within a hundred yards of my mate or his mother again and I’ll rip your throat out before you open your mouth. Now get out. Now!”
Brown pushed himself slowly to his feet. Cannel was having more trouble. “I’m injured man. Haven’t you got a doc somewhere around here?”
Stalking over, Cam reached down, grabbed Cannel under one armpit and hauled him to his feet. The man immediately tried to hunch over, protecting his gut. “The doc’s sleeping, much like everyone else in this town. He’s tired because he spent hours trying to save Marybelle’s legs, something he couldn’t do due to the extent of the injuries you ignored. Performing two amputations is a lengthy process and he needs his sleep. Now, unless you want me to start amputating your body from the neck down, move yourself. You can crawl your way out of town for all I care.”
Cam watched, waited, listened intently until he heard the front door slam and the soun
d of a car starting up. Only when he was sure the assholes had gone, did he consider the mess in the bedroom, and the prone body of his mate. Fergus’s eyes were open, and his mouth was moving as if he was trying to speak.
Kneeling down by Fergus’s head, Cam lifted it, resting it on his knee. “How are you feeling?”
Fergus tried to swallow. “You’re naked.” He grimaced and wrinkled his nose. “It stinks in here.”
“I know, babe, and I’m sorry. Let’s get you to my place for the rest of tonight. I’ll arrange a clean up here for the morning.”
Fergus looked as though he had a lot more to say, but he just moved his head – that was a sort of nod, and Cam would take it. Ignoring his need for clothes, Cam scooped Fergus into his arms, and headed out of the bedroom. Maybe I should have left a window open, he thought as he took his precious mate out of the house and started striding down the road. If Rocky or Mal are on duty tonight, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do, he thought with a sigh.
Chapter Twenty-Three
On the surface of things, life was good. Well, it had definitely settled down, but as Fergus wandered into his bakery, giving a smile to Sarah who was taking another custom cake order, nodding to Brutus as he went through to the kitchen to find his apron, Fergus knew something was niggling him. He just couldn’t work out what it was.
It’d been three weeks since momma had been rescued and Fergus had woken up after being drugged to find his house had been trashed – or at least his bedroom. The way the townspeople rallied around, cleaning, relining the bedroom walls, taking out the trash and installing fresh carpet was incredible. Cam bought all new bedroom furniture for them both, claiming it was his fault the mess occurred in the first place. Fergus didn’t argue against the sweet gesture.
