Bite Me, Too [sHarmony Shifters 2] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Jana Downs

  “Likewise,” Jude said warmly.

  Orion trailed in a second later lugging a backpack. Logan glanced at him. “You better sit your little ass over in a corner and chill ’til we get ready to go.”

  “I got it,” Orion drawled, rolling his eyes in typical teenage defiance. He raised his eyes and looked at Quinn. A weird scent instantly permeated the air, and Logan’s head snapped to Orion.

  “Aw shit,” he rumbled. “Out in the hall, man.”

  Evan’s eyes shot wide. “Why? He didn’t do anything.”

  Logan actually had to pull Orion from the room as the teen tried to step around him in an effort to get further inside. “What is going on?” Evan repeated, looking at Jude.

  “I should perhaps answer that,” Quinn murmured. Evan looked back to his bed. “That boy is my mate.”

  Shock made Evan’s mouth drop open. “Um, just that quick, huh?”

  “Seems that way.” Quinn looked at the door. “Just my luck that I have to wait until my mate grows up. How old is he?”

  “Seventeen I think.”

  “Well, that’s some compensation. Four or five years isn’t a terribly long time to wait.” Quinn started coughing and reached out for his big cup of water that sat just out of reach. Evan immediately went over and got it for him, offering it up to him, straw first. The shifter took a grateful sip.

  “You really going to wait until he’s twenty-one?” Jude asked, a puzzled expression on his face. “I thought shifters couldn’t control their attraction to their mate.”

  Quinn shrugged. “He needs to have some time to grow up, mature. Go to college. I’m not going to wait until he turns eighteen and then drag him to the nearest hotel.”

  It was more likely that Orion would be the one doing the dragging. Evan knew Orion reasonably well. The kid had been around enough. He was stubborn.

  “I’m sure Logan will appreciate that,” Jude said, looking intensely relieved. “He really wants Orion to go to school.”

  “He should,” Quinn said. If possible, he was looking a little paler than when he’d first come in.

  Evan glanced at Jude. “Why don’t you take Logan and Orion to grab something to eat? I’ll be fine taking care of Quinn for a little while.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely. If something changes with the situation downstairs, I’ve got my cell phone. They can let me know.”

  Jude slowly nodded. “Okay. That’ll be good. I’ll probably need to calm Logan down a little bit before he either kills Orion or locks a chastity belt around the kid’s waist.” He lowered his voice to a softer tone. “Do you feel up to meeting Orion later? I know you two aren’t going to be acting on the mating yet, but I imagine he really wants to see you.”

  Quinn inclined his head. “If your mate says that it’s appropriate.” He smoothed a hand through his dirt smudged hair. “Though I wish I was a little more put together to meet him.” He sighed, and Evan could’ve sworn the guy muttered, “Figures it would happen like this,” under his breath.

  “You look great,” Evan said. He would’ve wanted someone to say the same to him if he’d been in a similar position.

  “Thanks for that.”

  Jude excused himself, leaving the two of them alone once more. “I could help you wash up if you want me to,” Evan offered, needing to do something. “I mean, it can’t be much, but I can put some water in that plastic thing on the sink and help you wash your hair and face off.”

  Quinn looked like he was ready to burst into tears. “Would you? I’m sorry to be such a pain.”

  “Not a problem. Brandon considers you family, and since we’re mates, that makes you my family, too,” Evan said, feeling the truth of the words in his gut. Though it was killing him to be away from his lover, Brandon had someone watching over him. Quinn had no one. He was much more useful taking care of Quinn and helping Brandon that way than he was pacing the halls outside a guarded room upstairs. He just prayed that his lover woke up soon and got in contact with him. Then he could relax a fraction of an inch instead of worrying himself sick about it.

  “Thank you. I wouldn’t ask, but the nurses are so swamped…”

  “Don’t worry about it, suga,” Evan commanded. “You just need to worry about healing up. You guys heal faster than us. How long do they think you’ll be in here?” He walked over to the sink and began filling the ugly tan container with warm water. Once he filled that, he searched in the drawers until he found a couple of washcloths and the travel soaps. It wasn’t exactly shampoo, but it would do in a pinch.

  “The doctor I talked to said he would reassess my breaks at the end of the week. The president of sHarmony came by and told me that everything was being covered by the company. We’ll still be getting our salaries while we’re out of work, which will be great for the people who rely on the income.”

  “It seems like a great place to work,” Evan said, making conversation. “Maybe after Jude and the others get back I can hop over to the store and get you some proper hospital supplies. If you’ll be here a week, you’ll need some more than a tube of soap and some washcloths.”

  Quinn’s tired eyes met Evan’s. “I can see why you two are mates. You’re a lot alike.” His eyes shut. “I’m so tired. But, I can’t get comfortable. I can’t sleep.”

  “Maybe after you’re semiclean, you’ll be able to sleep better,” Evan murmured, stroking Quinn’s hair out of his face. “We’ll get you all smexy for you to meet your future mate, and then you can grab a nap. I’ll go by the nurses’ station on the way out and see if I can’t prod them along to get you some pain meds.”

  “Thank you for doing this,” Quinn said. “You don’t have to, but thank you.”

  “It’s what Brandon would want. You don’t need to thank me for anything. To be honest, I was going stir crazy not being able to do anything.”

  Quinn smiled softly. “Not a lot of men would be able to do anything productive with their mate in danger. You’re a gem, Evan. Give yourself more credit.” He shifted, winced. “Okay let’s do this bathing thing.”

  “You got it.”

  As Evan tended his Quinn, he couldn’t help but wonder if someone was doing the same to Brandon, if they were making sure that his hair was clean and if he as getting enough pain medicine to deal with the pain of his injuries. More than anything, he wanted to be that person. He deliberately started making more small talk. He needed to distract himself before he worked himself up into a panic attack. For the first time in a very long time, he prayed.

  Chapter Eight

  Brandon woke up with a pounding fucking headache. Something was beeping over his left shoulder and the soft murmur of conversation might as well have been an anvil being struck with a mallet. He opened his mouth to tell them to shut the hell up but found his mouth as dry as a cotton ball.

  “Brandon? Brandon, son, you awake?”

  That couldn’t be who he thought it was.

  “Brandon, it’s Dad.”

  Oh fuck. Of course it was.

  “Brandon, if you can hear me open your eyes.”

  That was hard. He tried to pry them open, but it was too hard. He didn’t want to see the prick anyway. His mind started drifting, and he started heading back into the inky blackness he’d just emerged from.

  “Brandon, I need you to wake up.”

  That voice was the last thing he wanted to wake up to. He opened his mouth to tell his dad to go fuck off, but only air came out in a soft whoosh.

  “Brandon?”

  He swallowed, couldn’t. “Water.” There. He was really proud of that word.

  “Get him some water!” He really wished his dad wouldn’t shout. It hurt his head like an SOB.

  “Evan?” He really wanted his mate right this second. He needed to know he was all right. The last thing he remembered was going to check on Quinn after the building started rocking and then nothing. He couldn’t recall whether Evan had been coming to the sHarmony office or not. They were supposed to grab s
upper together.

  Water splashed against his chin as someone with more enthusiasm than sense pushed a hard cup against his lip and sloshed it down his front. Still, he took a deep sip, grateful to have something in his mouth that would provide some moisture. He swallowed again and again.

  “Go tell the nurse that he’s awake. I want a doctor in here in ten minutes,” his dad said, no doubt ordering some underling to do his bidding.

  “Where’s Evan?” he asked, finally managing to pry open his eyelids. He was grateful the light was dim as he took in his surroundings. He was lying in a hospital bed from the looks of it, a glass panel that passed for a wall/door on his left side where the annoying beeping machine was making an irritating noise. He glanced down at his arms and saw numerous tubes going off of them in both directions. He must’ve been in bad shape for this many central lines.

  “Don’t worry about him, son,” his dad said, drawing his notice for the first time. An older version of Brandon stood by his bedside, looking a bit more haggard than usual, his blue eyes tired and the light lines around his eyes and mouth more pronounced.

  “He’s my mate. Where is he?”

  “You just came out of major surgery, son. You don’t need to worry about that skinny little boy you’ve been dating.”

  Irritation flickered. “He’s my mate.” He glared at his dad. “Where is my motherfucking mate?” The growl he put on the end of the question sapped the last of his energy. He glared, silently protesting his weakness.

  His dad paled. “I had hoped he was exaggerating your bond.”

  Brandon resisted the urge to roll his eyes only because he was too tired to fiddle with it. “Where is he?”

  “I asked him to leave.”

  If Brandon would’ve had the energy, he would’ve exploded right out of the bed and beat his dad to a bloody pulp. “What?” His dad might have been a closeted shifter, but he was still a shifter whether or not he would admit to his constituents. He knew how a mate bond operated. He had no excuse.

  His dad shifted, clearly uncomfortable. “You could have been dying. This is a place only family belongs, not some kid you’ve been fooling around with.”

  Brandon growled. “All the more reason for him to be with me. He isn’t some random hookup. He’s mine, Dad.” He glanced at the three other men in the room, all of them part of his dad’s campaign team. “Family, Dad? Then who the fuck are they?”

  “I needed them with me.”

  “And Evan needed to be here with me,” Brandon snapped, wincing as he breathed too hard and his entire right side screamed in fiery agony.

  It was only then that his father had the gumption to look guilty. “I’ll see Albert down to the lobby to see if he’s still hanging around. He was making life difficult for a little while.”

  Poor Evan was probably worried sick. As a newly turned shifter, he imagined that he was even more sensitive to being separated from him than most people. “How long have I been here?”

  “Little over a week. You’ve woken up a couple times, but you’ve never been this lucid.” His dad took a deep breath. “If I allow you to bring this boy in here, will you please keep your condition from any media that might be in the building? I don’t want them to suspect you do more than work security for sHarmony.”

  Ah. There was the self-serving reason that Brandon had known was there somewhere. His dad had broken ties a long time ago, sending Brandon a stipend like hush money because he felt guilty while he lived with his plastic wife and three shiny human kids in Atlanta. “I’m not telling them you’re my dad. If they find out what I am, I’m not going to deny it. I’m not interested in hiding who I am.”

  “But you won’t mention anything about me?”

  “No, Dad. I won’t.” A familiar resentment welled up. The elder Mr. Payne was so very preoccupied with image and his voter approval numbers that he would do anything short of having Brandon killed to keep his past a secret. Brandon’s mother had been his lover for years before leaving his ass despite the pain. They hadn’t been true mates, but that hadn’t stopped them from making Brandon and dragging him into a world of their bullshit. “I want my mate.”

  “I’ll find him,” his dad promised. “I just want to hear the doctor say you’ll be all right, and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

  Aka, now that I know you’re not dying and you won’t share my big, fat secret, I’ll get out of your hair. “Fine.” He tried not to let that knowledge sting him too much. He might’ve accepted his dad’s incredible selfishness a long time ago, but it still felt like a punch in the gut sometimes. He closed his eyes, the pain and the emotional stimulation getting to be too much. His dad asked him a question, but before he could respond, he was sound asleep.

  * * * *

  “Please, be careful,” Orion begged as Quinn moved up his sidewalk on his crutches. The young man worried ceaselessly about Quinn’s health and had only left the hospital when Jude or Logan dragged him from the room. Between the two of them, he and Evan had taken care of Quinn during his stint in the hospital.

  “Looking good, Quinn,” Evan complimented as his friend got to the front steps without difficulty. He tried not to show that his skin was crawling and that the chills he’d been experiencing had grown so frequent he was convinced that a cold sweat felt like an every second occurrence for him. Sleeping in Brandon’s bed had helped last night, but it was nothing like the real thing. He ached to be by his mate’s side. He knew that Brandon had been taken to surgery a couple of days ago but had no idea how it had gone. Only Quinn’s calm reassurances that he would know if Brandon wasn’t here anymore kept him from freaking out.

  “Lemme carry you up the steps,” Orion said, bending down to do just that.

  Quinn made a sound of protest a second before Logan intervened. “Let the man walk, Oreo. Jesus. He’s broken, not dead.”

  Orion huffed but did as Logan commanded.

  Slowly, Quinn managed to scale the six steps to his front door. Evan and the rest of their group followed him up. Panting, he inserted his key. “I did it.”

  “Yeah you did, sexy,” Orion purred. Logan smacked the back of his head. “I’ll come help you with stuff after school.” The poor kid was so anxious to be near Quinn. It was cute.

  “Only if you have a chaperone,” Logan interjected.

  Quinn pushed open the door with a crutch. “You know I won’t touch him, Logan,” he said, sounding a little hurt.

  “It’s not you that I don’t trust,” Logan drawled, throwing a pointed look in his younger brother’s direction. They all shared a chuckle for that at Orion’s immediate protest of innocence.

  Evan helped Quinn into the living room and arranged him onto the plush sectional he had set up in front of the giant seventy-two-inch flat screen.

  “I’m dying of thirst. Can you grab me a water out of the fridge?” Quinn asked. Evan nodded, but Orion was quicker than he was. He was beelining in the direction that Evan hoped was the kitchen before Evan could even turn in that direction.

  “Gotta love the speed of service,” Jude said, taking a seat on the opposite end of the sectional. Over the past few days, they’d all become much closer friends.

  “Wish I could get him to move that fast when I ask him to clean his room,” Logan added.

  “The novelty will fade,” Quinn said. He’d paled out again.

  “You don’t need to push yourself anymore, Q,” Evan admonished, turning on the TV for him before passing him both remotes. “I’m going to get you some more pillows and set you up in here unless you want to move into your bedroom.”

  “My room is good. Just give me a minute,” Quinn mumbled. The guy looked downright exhausted. The car ride from the hospital had worn him out.

  He flipped the channel from the news channel it had been on. They were still running the story about how human extremists from two different hate groups Humans’ First and Right Life had decided to send a message to all the shifters in the world by blowing up shifter-run busin
esses with homemade explosives. The FBI was still rounding up suspects and conducting an official investigation, but at least they knew that much. Evan hoped they caught the bastards soon and tortured them all in some offshore prison somewhere. Or better yet, sent them to the big shifter prison out in Colorado and released them into general population.

  “I’m so sick of seeing our building blown to bits on the news. Every time they air it, it gets more sensational,” Quinn griped.

  “They just want to keep the hype going,” Evan said, his heart developing the sickening rhythm it did when he thought of Brandon being trapped in the crumbled, burnt-out wreckage that was the remains of sHarmony’s downtown headquarters. “They don’t give a shit what it does to the families of those people hurt in the process.” Some of the images from the bombing had haunted him.

  Orion returned with the bottle of water and what looked like a plate of cheese and crackers. “You need to take some food with your medicine,” he lectured, handing both to Quinn who sat them on the side table beside him. He looked at Evan. “Where is his bag of meds?”

  Evan pointed to the gray duffle that he’d put down by the doorway. Orion immediately crossed over to the bag and started rummaging inside while Quinn nibbled on a cracker. “He’ll make a good mate when he grows up a little bit,” Logan said, pride lacing his words.

  Evan agreed. The kid had really stepped up and helped big time with the whole taking care of Quinn thing. He turned his attention back to the television as Quinn left it on Bridezillas. He hadn’t struck him as a reality TV junkie, but it was mindless entertainment and that was all Evan really wanted at the moment.

  Because he and Brandon hadn’t been officially registered as a mated couple, which he’d learned no mated couple actually did because it cost over a thousand dollars for the license, or legally married by human license, which they weren’t technically supposed to do because they were shifters, the motion to allow Evan access to Brandon had been denied. He wasn’t the only one either. There were half a dozen other families that had been torn apart by the incident. He sighed, trying to think of something else. When Brandon gets better, we’re going to go get the power of attorney. It was the only measure that had hope of standing up to the scrutiny of what the hospital had to recognize. He hadn’t realized that a relationship he considered damn near sacred could be disregarded without a thought by those in power.