Flyers Fuzzbutts and Fisticuffs

by Jools Louise

Alastair bared a set of canine fangs, smirking at John. “Right through to my little furry feet,” he answered.

  “Petrovsky threatened my family,” John said, frowning fiercely. “And he had a young boy shot. That’s someone who puts no value on life.”

  “He has a lot of people working for him,” Ryder added grimly. “We already know there’s a connection between Flashpoint and Fortress. It’s not too big a stretch to figure Flashpoint are acting as D’Arcy’s eyes and ears. We should have known he wouldn’t be out of the loop for too long.”

  “I need to get back to the café,” John said, glancing at his watch. “Why don’t we take Alastair over there, and we can have a chat?”

  Ryder nodded, looking over at the ticket booth where John’s daughter, Olivia, was watching them avidly.

  “Are you going to be okay, Olivia?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, guys, for coming so quickly. It got a little scary.”

  “Sorry we frightened you,” Alastair said, flushing a little. “That usually isn’t my thing.”

  “That’s okay,” she said casually. “If it happens again, Daddy John will just rip you apart. You won’t get a second chance.” She shrugged and lifted a magazine to read, since there was a lull until the next show started in about half an hour.

  Alastair grinned at her and met John’s cool stare. “I believe her,” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again.”

  “Come on,” John said briskly. “Let’s talk.”

  He watched Alastair’s face, saw the relief. “Thanks. I really am telling the truth.”

  Mick led the way out into the snowstorm, with Alastair following. John looked at Ryder. “Well? You must have checked him out by now via your super-duper secret agent network.”

  Ryder sent him a wry look, then grinned. “Of course I did,” he said. “My team were already checking out his story, the second they heard his name.” He tapped the small camera hidden in his button hole.

  “And?”

  “And he’s legit,” Ryder said simply. “He left the military after being injured out in Kenya, then was recruited by Goran while working for a private security firm in England. He’s been there ever since. Goran Moriakovsky is well respected. He’s a self-made oligarch, after finding massive oil reserves on his farm, decades ago. His grandson, as Alastair told us, is an asshole.” He lowered his voice, leaning closer to John. “What isn’t widely known is the younger Moriakovsky’s affiliation to a certain organized crime group we all love to hate.”

  “Fortress? Flashpoint?”

  “Fortress for sure, although they have their own name for it. Nothing yet about Flashpoint, but since D’Arcy’s in the frame, I don’t imagine it will be long before all three groups hook up. Strength in numbers. And a whole shit load more money.”

  “What’s the Russian unit called?”

  “Крепость. The translation means stronghold. So, Stronghold.”

  “Catchy and somehow familiar.” John’s snark was out in full force.

  Ryder grinned at his friend, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, there is a certain similarity.”

  “They have issues, obviously,” John drawled as they walked toward the exit.

  “Once I send my Warriors out there, they’ll have more than issues,” Ryder retorted fiercely. “Ralph is linked to several shifter murders. Now that Ice has finished interrogating the Commander, he’s on a flight to the Ukraine to see what’s up.”

  “Is Ralph human?”

  “Yeah, and has little man syndrome. The guy is short, pissy, and has delusions of grandeur. His four brothers were recently incarcerated, and the rumor is that Ralph is behind it. They all inherited the family fortune, allegedly,” Ryder murmured. “Unfortunately, Ralph doesn’t seem to be a sharing, caring kind of a guy.”

  “Getting rid of the competition?”

  “Apparently. They’re at a notorious prison. Krasnoyarsk in Siberia, sentenced to ten years hard labor.”

  “When can we get a team out there?” John asked. “I’ve heard of it. It’s where they send hardened criminals. What did his brothers do to deserve that punishment? It’s pretty much a death sentence.”

  “They’re related to Ralph,” Ryder said dryly. He slid a sideways glance toward Alastair. “I believe you’re well aware of Krasnoyarsk,” he said knowingly. Alastair flinched.

  “I was sent there for two years,” he replied starkly. “Ralph trumped up some charges against me. I served my time and spent some time in Kiev afterwards. It’s why I came to America. I needed to get out of Russia.”

  With nothing further to say, they walked silently through town, each lost in their own thoughts. John considered the warning delivered by Petrovsky, and since the man had connections to D’Arcy, it was a warning he took seriously. He felt a sick sense of impending danger. His children, adopted though they were, had all been through enough—and he would do anything to prevent them being harmed again.

  This town definitely attracted trouble. He couldn’t help but think that D’Arcy was just nasty enough to deliver a message to Sage. He didn’t appear to be a man who liked to be thwarted. As he entered Café Anglais, John went straight to the table where his brood were seated, sharing steaming cups of chocolate and some treats.

  “Hi.” Cameron, John’s husband, greeted him with a smile and a kiss, then looked more closely at John’s expression. “What’s wrong?”

  John gathered his soul mate closer, nuzzling into his fragrant Afro hair. “I’ll explain later,” he murmured, resting his forehead against Cameron’s.

  “You’re trembling,” Cam said worriedly, stroking his back. He glanced over at the newcomer, Alastair, who was seated with Ryder and Mick. “Is he part of the reason?”

  “Later,” John insisted, kissing his mate hungrily, desperate to rid himself of the doomsday premonition.

  “Daddy? Are we still grounded?”

  John looked at his son, Murray, and smiled. “What day is it?”

  Murray grinned back, showing off the gap in his teeth from a lost baby tooth. “We did our month’s hard graft,” he said with a giggle. “And Daddy Cam did let us go to the movie.”

  “Cameron? Are they still grounded?” John asked, knowing who wore the pants when it came to discipline.

  “Self-defense classes are a go,” Cameron murmured against John’s lips, and they laughed together when the kids erupted into loud cheers. That had been part of their reward for good behavior, taking self-defense lessons at the local gym.

  “I’m gonna kick butt,” Blue shrieked at the top of his vocal range.

  “You’re such a dweeb,” Honey said haughtily, flicking her hair.

  “I’m a dweeb who’s gonna kick butt,” Blue retorted, smirking at her.

  “Hmmph!” she scoffed.

  “You’re mean,” Little Moe piped up from the end of the table.

  Honey looked upset for a brief second, before tilting her chin at a stubborn angle. “You’re stupid,” she shot back. “At least my dad isn’t in prison for trying to kill me.”

  There was a shocked gasp around the table, and Moe looked devastated at the harsh comment. Moe’s father, Daniel, had used his own sons as pawns to control their mother, Kathleen, and they’d very nearly died at his hands. Moe got up from his seat and ran right out of the café. Drew, his eldest brother, glared at Honey and ran after his brother, who was crying.

  Honey looked smug as she took a sip of her chocolate.

  “I think it’s time you went home, young lady,” John said sharply, taking the cup from her hands. “That was just a nasty thing to say.”

  “She’s a bitch,” Flint said, glaring at the little diva.

  Her lip trembled as she looked at everyone, the entire café now staring at her with disapproval.

  “Flint, there’s no need for that kind of language,” Kathleen said with a sharp look at her son, rising to go after her boys. “Honey that was a horrible thing to say to Moe.”

  “I didn’t tell
a lie,” she retorted snippily. “Your husband is in prison, isn’t he? I’m glad my daddies aren’t criminals.”

  “Up!” John said sharply, and she looked at him in shock. John rarely used that tone with any of the kids. “I just phoned your Daddy Aiden, Honey, and he isn’t very pleased that you’re being so vicious about Moe. I heard what happened last month, and your attitude toward Flint. That is not acceptable, either. Now go and sit on the naughty step, for eight minutes.”

  “You’re not my daddy,” she said mutinously, scowling furiously. “I don’t hafta do anything you tell me.”

  He handed her his phone, and she paled, then turned bright red as she listened. A moment later, after a brief conversation with the other caller, she went silently to sit on the naughty step, her eyes filled with tears and her lower lip trembling.

  John sent a chiding look Flint’s way when he began slow-clapping.

  “That’s enough,” he said authoritatively. “Unless you’d like to join Honey in a time-out?”

  The clapping stopped instantly.

  “Good job, Daddy John,” Cameron murmured, kissing his ear. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  John smirked. “It’s a gift.”

  Chapter Four

  Cullen followed Louis and Doyle along the street, which by now had a two-inch covering of snow. Irina and Mika walked between the bear shifters, not to Cullen’s apartment, but in the direction of the bears’ residence. The guys lived in a ranch-style home on the road that led to Two Spirit Ranch, with an acre or two of land around it.

  “Are you warm enough, Mika?” he asked the young boy, who was shivering.

  Mika nodded, but Cullen wasn’t convinced. Neither Irina nor Mika had any luggage, merely a small tote bag between them. They certainly knew how to travel light. “Why don’t we stop at the clothing store?” he said. “I need a new winter coat anyway, and they sell little guy sizes, too. This chilly spell has caught us by surprise.”

  Mika smiled at him, then looked at his mother, who hesitated, looking embarrassed. “On me,” Cullen said casually. “I can’t have my cousin getting frostbite, can I? Once we get you situated, I’ll take you out to the ranch, where they have a bunch of stuff, donated by our allies, which you can take a look at. It’s available for those who need help getting a new start.”

  She smiled back. “Thank you, Cullen. I am sorry that we are putting you to so much trouble. We had to ditch a lot of stuff when Nikolai found us in Madrid. The helicopter you sent for us got us out of Russia, but Petrovsky has a lot of friends, so we had to lie low for a while, before managing to get our next transport to America. We headed south, to Spain, and I waited tables at a Tapas bar in one of the resort towns along the Costa Blanca. We got some money together, finally, so we could fly here. That’s why it took so long to get here.”

  “You aren’t any trouble,” he replied firmly. “You’re family. That’s not trouble. You’ve both had to leave everything behind. It’s the least I can do. I’m sorry you’ve had such a terrible time. When you contacted me, I had no idea what was going on, only that you needed to leave your home. I’m just glad I was able to help in some way.”

  They walked toward an outdoor clothing store, owned by one of John’s ex-Special Forces friends, Madison Clarke.

  “Hey, Cullen,” Madison greeted, looking up. “Late to be shopping. We’re about to close.”

  Cullen glanced at his watch. It was nearly eight thirty. “Sorry, Madison. I need a winter coat, and my friends here, too. I wasn’t expecting so much snow this early in the season.”

  “No problem,” Madison replied amiably. “I just got some new stock in. This early snowfall surprised us all.”

  Cullen exchanged pleasantries, keeping an eye on Louis and Doyle, who were acting as bodyguards, watching the outside carefully.

  “Anything I need to worry about?” Madison asked, eyeing the two big shifters.

  “We had a lovely visit from some of Flashpoint’s employees,” Louis said. “They’re after our two new friends, here. I don’t trust that they didn’t have a Plan B, or other friends in the vicinity.”

  “I’ll let you know if anyone comes asking,” Madison said, cashing up the sales. Madison was an enforcer for the town, and also helped get intel on newcomers. With Flashpoint so prolific at finding weaknesses, they needed all the help they could get. Nodding, Louis stepped outside, and they continued on their way.

  “Oh, this is beautiful,” Irina said, as soon as they reached the house. “It reminds me of home, with the mountains in the background. I was brought up in a house just like this one.”

  “We built it ourselves,” Doyle said proudly.

  “What’s that?” Mika asked, pointing to something hanging from a tree.

  Cullen gasped, tugging the boy toward him. “C’mere, sweetie,” he said, turning Mika’s face away from the sight of the body in the tree, a noose around its neck. From this angle, Cullen couldn’t tell who it was. It may not even be a body, but a macabre prank. Halloween wasn’t too far away, after all.

  “Oh, god,” Louis said, sounding distraught. Cullen stared as the body swung around slightly, and he blanched, feeling sick.

  He grabbed for Irina and Mika, turning them away from the scene. “We need to call this in,” Cullen said, swallowing hard as he palmed his cell phone. “And with Flashpoint on the loose, plus our new players, I don’t want us to split up in case.” He made the call to the sheriff’s office.

  “Humdrum,” Doyle whispered, taking a step forward. “This is going to devastate the wolverines. He was still recovering from what Crash did to him and his friends.”

  “No, don’t touch him,” Cullen said urgently. “It could be a trap. We need to call Pace, get an explosives expert here to check the house.” He sniffed, trying to detect any sign of explosives. “I don’t smell anything, but still…”

  Doyle sniffed, as well, his nostrils quivering as he crouched low. “There’s a trail, more than one scent,” he announced quietly. “I don’t think he was hit here. Someone planted his body here.” The corpse turned slowly in the noose. “Look. There’s something attached to his chest.”

  Cullen felt the sickness rise up in his throat. A large sign was pinned, with a nail, to Humdrum’s thin chest. Humdrum was a wolverine shifter mated to Mystery, and had only recently been out and about in town, after his mate had been badly beaten by a sociopath named Crash. Humdrum and Mystery had both been victims of the evil Crash, and Humdrum had blamed himself for what had happened. After long counseling sessions with the town’s resident psychotherapist, Murphy, however, Humdrum had been doing okay. This was a kick in the guts.

  “Get him down,” Irina whispered. “Please, get him down.”

  Cullen tensed as he heard sirens, and shortly after, Pace and Lex appeared. Cody was there, too. Cody was one of the original Two Spirit crew and had military experience. Lex was Sage’s doctor and a first responder. Cody had been deputized recently, to help the sheriff, since the town was growing, and the threats didn’t seem to be diminishing. Cody had the know-how when dealing with explosives.

  “Geez,” Pace said, getting out of his vehicle. “What the hell is this? Step back, everyone, let Cody work to make the scene safe.”

  Cullen closed his eyes, cuddling Mika close, and felt Irina’s arm on his waist. Doyle and Louis stood guard, keeping an eye on their surroundings. The house wasn’t completely out of town, but had woods behind it, so was a little more secluded. “This is too much,” he whispered, devastated for his friends. Louis and Doyle had spent months in a mine with Humdrum, Mystery, and a lot of others, after being tricked into working there, by Daniel, a Flashpoint ally. They looked cut up at seeing their friend like this. Whoever had done this was truly despicable.

  He focused on Doyle and Louis, seeing the grief beneath their stoic expressions. He could see this was affecting them deeply. They would have to tell Mystery and the other wolverines, who had been friends since childhood.

  “Clear,�
� Cody said gruffly.

  “Get him down,” Pace ordered urgently, stepping forward to help.

  “I’ll check the house,” Cody said gruffly, once Humdrum was safely down. “Just in case.”

  Louis cursed. “You think this is aimed at us?”

  “I think someone seized a vulnerable individual to make a statement,” Pace said slowly. Cullen saw him staring at the gruesome sign on Humdrum’s bare chest. “Why this house? Who knows? There are no tracks in the snow,” he added distractedly, studying the ground.

  “Three days or no one will be safe. S”

  “What does this mean, I wonder?” Pace said, frowning. They laid Humdrum’s naked body gently on the icy ground, the corpse stiff as rigor mortis was already setting in, and the chill of the night air acted like a deep freeze.

  Cullen related what had occurred earlier, at the cinema. Pace stared at him. “Why wasn’t I informed?” he asked sharply.

  “Ryder dealt with it,” Louis said.

  “Of course,” Pace said roughly, looking irritated. “What time did it happen?”

  “The movie started at about six fifteen,” Cullen replied. “I was a little late, as I was working, but I stopped for a coffee at the café.” He thought for a moment. “It’s about an hour and a half long, so we finished just before eight.” He mentioned that Olivia had called her father as soon as the three Flashpoint guys had arrived.

  “Humdrum’s been dead for about two hours,” Lex said, checking the time.

  Pace looked grimly at Humdrum’s corpse, closing his eyes.

  “I need to tell his mate,” he murmured.

  “Let me at least cover him,” Cullen said, removing his new coat.

  “No, let me,” Louis said, and stepped forward, using his own thick fleecy jacket to provide Humdrum with some dignity.

  “I’m so sorry,” Cullen said brokenly. “I know you were friends. I didn’t know him that well, but he seemed a decent guy.”

  “He never stood a chance,” Doyle said, staring down at the dead shifter. Humdrum’s neck was tilted at an odd angle. Broken. There were ligatures around his neck, as well, and evidence of broken bones.