Just Like Cats and Dogs

by BA Tortuga

  It was insane.

  He’d done his job, though, and made an amazing amount of money doing it. Now all he had to do was clean, pack, and get a plane ticket.

  Funny, really, how he’d dreaded leaving the fucking city for years, and now… now he knew Gus was waiting, knew there was a place for him and he was going to make it. Going to go and leave all this craziness and worry behind.

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he opened his front door. Weird, because his building was secure, right? Safe? There was nothing below him, and he had security alarms.

  There was something—he wasn’t sure what, he wasn’t sure of anything, but….

  Something.

  He locked the door behind him, padded through the chaos toward the kitchen, dialing Gus. The phone rang and rang, finally going to voice mail. He waited through the greeting, then grinned, loving that he could tease Gus now, play with his mate. “Hey, you. Hope the moon was good to you. Everything’s finished up here, and I’m at loose ends. Who knows, maybe I’ll go on a long vacation. See the sights. Call me.”

  There. If that didn’t get him a phone call back, nothing would, right?

  He chuckled, shook his head, and tossed his phone at the sofa. He needed to pack a bag, the laptop, and a handful of other things. He grabbed Ma and Pop’s picture off the mantle, plus his copy of his first playbill, popped them in his briefcase.

  He’d dealt with the bank, transferred money around, done the stuff he….

  What was that?

  Sam spun around, growling deep in his chest, nostrils flaring. “Who’s there?”

  “Here kitty, kitty.” The voice was unfamiliar, low, and unmistakably feline.

  “Get out of my house.” He wrapped his hand around the fireplace poker.

  “Not a chance.” Now that voice, sliding in from behind him, he did recognize. Al, pussycat mobster wannabe extraordinaire. Jesus, this was so fucking trite. “You stink, traitor. We don’t let traitors live here.”

  “Not your building, Al. Trent owns it, and I’ve paid all I’m going to.” He’d paid in flesh, in cash, and in time. He was done. Getting out.

  “Trent’s no longer in business.” A phone was held up, a blessedly silent video playing that showed a jaguar screaming, both front paws gone, his teeth shattered.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Sam made himself stay loose, kept the poker in hand, no matter how badly he wanted to gag, to scream. Control. This was about control. “Too bad for him. Take the place, then. I’m moving out.”

  “Not with all that money you have in the bank, you aren’t.”

  Oh, no. That was his. His life. His and Gus’s, for as long as they needed it. “Fuck you, asshole.”

  He was tired of putting up with shit, damn it. Tired of this nonsense.

  He heard the motion behind him, and he struck out, the poker connecting with flesh, even in the dark. There was a satisfying cry as someone went down, and he swung again, body trying to decide whether he was more effective in his fur and claws or with the weapon.

  By the time he noticed the two felines leaping at him from up above, it was too late to decide.

  Too late for anything.

  Chapter Seventeen

  SAM HADN’T called.

  Or rather, he had, but he hadn’t called back after Gus had returned his call. In fact, Sam’s phone had gone straight to voice mail for days.

  Gus had been worried at first, calling around to see if Sam had let anyone know he was sick or out of touch or anything. As far as everyone knew, including Pete, Sam had been closing up his penthouse and finishing up his last job and all….

  Gus had to admit, it pissed him right off that Sam wasn’t answering his calls. If Puss had fucking second thoughts, the least he could do was call and let Gus know. He’d thought… well, he’d thought a lot of things.

  Now he was out of cell range anyway. Sam could have his long vacation alone, if that was what he wanted. Gus would go play in the dirt. As soon as he got back to the world, though, he was going to kick Sam’s ass. Then he’d love the man into a puddle and explain how he’d pretty much assumed they’d had a date.

  Maybe he just hadn’t made it clear. He’d said “I love you,” but had Sam believed it? Sam had been through a lot with the pack. Maybe he needed to be convinced to trust.

  Gus grumbled, the urge to wolf out and hunt strong. Instead, he lit a cigarette and headed back down into the mine. He’d have to provision soon, go to the trading post. For now, though, he’d get back to work.

  That was his kind of vacation, after all.

  He wondered what kind Sam liked to take.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “KITTY? DUDE? Man, you need to eat. If you don’t eat, you’ll die.”

  Sam whined softly, the room spinning, swimming around him. He groaned as he tried to change, muscles fighting to get into the form that would heal the fastest, be the most mobile.

  “I’m serious, man. You have to wake up. You can’t change. They’ve drugged you. You just need to eat.”

  “Gus.” Whoever that was smelled like wolf, like pack, and Sam was praying they knew Gus.

  “No. No, I don’t know a Gus. Come on, kitty. Please. If you don’t eat….” A soft hand touched his cheek. “They’ll kill both of us. I need you to open your mouth.”

  Everything hurt—his hands, his arms, his face, his…. He couldn’t feel his legs.

  His eyes popped open again. “My legs.”

  “They’re hurt, man, bad. I…. They had someone in to make you stop screaming.”

  No.

  No.

  No. He reached up, clawing at her, a wild yowl tearing from him, but the little blonde girl didn’t back away, just grabbed his hands and held on tight. His legs.

  “Listen to me.” She shook him as he fought, tearing at her clothes, her hair.

  His legs.

  He was a dancer.

  A dancer.

  No.

  “Listen to me, damn it!” She slapped him hard, and his head slammed into the wall behind him, making him see stars. “It’s reversible. I asked. I made sure. It’s reversible. You have to stick with me. I’m here to help you.”

  “You’re only a puppy.”

  She snorted. “I’m old enough, and I’m not chained up like you are, kitty. I’ll take it.”

  “Who…?” He shook his head, gagged. “Why?”

  She looked behind her, face pale. “Cedric took over. You’re an example.”

  “Why me?” He was harmless. Shit, he’d been leaving.

  “You’ve got cash, you’ve been there forever, and you smell like pack. You’re like a… species traitor or something, I guess.”

  “And what are you?” She was obviously lupine, not feline, but she smelled of tomcat.

  “Fucked. Deeply. But I haven’t given up. How about you?”

  “I have a mate.”

  “Okay.” She leaned down, stared him in the eyes, and it hit him, how young she was, really. “So eat and tell me about him, and I’ll figure something out.”

  Sam opened up, drank the broth, and tried to decide whether to believe.

  Chapter Nineteen

  GUS WANDERED around the trading post, which was a fairly recent addition to the reservoir area. He hated that the cities encroached almost everywhere, but Barret could still be pretty remote, which made him damned happy. There were two other people in the store, and they both worked there.

  It was awesome.

  He wandered, popping this and that into his bag. He didn’t need much—well, he’d done a number on his supplies during the moon, but he was going to finish this dig and then go get his Puss, damn it. The phone was still going right to voice mail, but Gus was sick of waiting. He had a big piece to pry out of the ground, and then Sam.

  The thought of Sam rushed over him in a wave, making him ache deep in his chest for a second. God, he missed the slinky son of a….

  “You bastard. What did you do to him?” The
voice hissing in his ear was fierce, furious, and the pressure against one kidney was undeniably a knife.

  His hands automatically went up, the can of tuna he’d picked up rolling away. “Who the fuck…?”

  “Don’t move.” That was Gray standing in front of him, white eyes eerie. “Helena is fierce, and she’ll let you bleed out, right here. Where is our brother?”

  “Which one?” What the hell were the blind one and the nonshifter doing off pack lands or out of the city? They could get themselves killed.

  “Which one? You fuck!” That blade dug in, piercing his shirt, Helena’s growl as lupine as any shifter’s. “We went there to help him, and his place…. Your scent is all over it!”

  “I stayed there when I got back to the States!” What the hell? What was going on? “What’s wrong with his place?”

  Gray growled. “Don’t. Don’t fuck with us. We know it’s bad. We saw. We just want to help him.”

  “Bad?” Panic started to grow in his chest. “Bad how?”

  Gray’s nostrils flared. “He doesn’t smell like he’s lying, Sister.”

  “He’s always hated Sam.” Helena snarled, the sound frustrated and angry.

  Gus backed off a step. “Sam… I have to…. Shit.” He turned and pelted out of the store, heading for his truck. If something was wrong with Sam and he’d just been ignoring it because he was pissy….

  He heard them following him, Gray’s blindness not slowing the big body in the slightest. He didn’t waste time trying to explain, though. He just slid behind the wheel, mind calculating the easiest way to get to Sam.

  “Don’t you run from us!” Helena’s hands slammed down on the hood of his truck, denting it.

  “Fuck you.” He growled it out, barking at her. “I need to get to Sam.”

  “Where is he? Is he here?” She looked frantic. “Goddamn it! What happened to him?”

  “I don’t know. You tell me.” He was going to run her down. “He was fine when I left. Supposed to call me. He never did.”

  Gray reached through the window, hand on his arm. “He e-mailed about having to work. He e-mailed us.”

  “What?” Gus had gotten that same damned e-mail. It had pissed him off enough not to call again. “He was supposed to be done. He called. Said he was taking a vacation. I thought he was joking.”

  “Yes, but he e-mailed us. Us. About work. He never does that. We see him in Chicago once a year. Together.”

  Helena nodded. “That’s why we went up. Because he obviously needed help.”

  “Fuck. Either get in the truck or get out of my way.” He was going to kill something.

  “Gray?” Helena asked, and Gray nodded.

  “In.”

  They piled into the truck with him, and Gus peeled out, fishtailing just enough to make Helena white-knuckled. “Tell me everything.”

  “He e-mailed, and it was weird—too weird, and things are so hard for him out there, so I talked to Gray and we went.” Helena’s fingers were tangled with Gray’s. “The apartment is destroyed. There’s blood everywhere, and your scent. We knew you two had… fought?”

  “Broken up,” Gray offered.

  “Whatever. So we came here.”

  “We didn’t fight.” Things were hard there? Sure, Sam had a bad neighborhood, and he didn’t go out much, but damn. How hard could it be if he stayed inside like he swore he did? “You couldn’t track him at all?”

  “Not outside, not in all that filth, and….” Helena shrugged. “There’s a lot more of them than us.”

  “Them?” He was going to go crazy, talking to these two. He should have left them. San Diego was closest. He’d go there, bully his way onto the first flight.

  “The cats? In the city?” Gray looked confused. “The ones that hurt him?”

  “What are you talking about?” Goddamn it, why hadn’t Sam told him? He’d been to Sam’s place only once, and he’d hated it…. Maybe Sam had tried. They’d talked a little about how Sam never did anything but work, but Gus had shrugged it off.

  “Jesus Christ, Gus, how stupid are you? Where do you think the fucking scars come from?” Helena could be a harpy. “Dancing isn’t usually an art form with claws.”

  “Oh, fuck off, bitch. I have scars from fighting with Pete that are that bad.” How the hell was he supposed to know? He had scars from digging, from being beaten in Afghanistan.

  “Wow. Good thing he hooked up with your family.” Helena growled back.

  Christ. He was so leaving her at the fucking airport. She was a harpy, and he didn’t have time for this shit.

  “Helena, you’re not helping.” Gray sighed. “He always had trouble with the felines. He smelled like pack, you know? Sam… sometimes I think it would have been easier for him if they’d left him to die as a cub. He doesn’t fit anywhere.”

  “I should have made him come with me.” He should have fucking insisted. He shouldn’t have doubted Sam for a minute. Guilt was a bitch.

  “He’s a dancer. He stayed because he loved it.”

  Gray growled at his sister. “He stayed because it was habit and he was fucking scared.”

  “Okay, stop fighting with each other and tell me about these cats.”

  “They run the city. Aren’t many wolves there. They didn’t like Sam.” Gray sighed. “There was a lot of trouble, a lot of payoffs. Then less trouble the longer Sam stayed.”

  “He means Sam got smarter, more careful.”

  “I mean that Sam was a stubborn fuckhead who wouldn’t come home!”

  “Like either of us stayed home, asshole,” Helena snapped. “You’re only there because you’re blind!”

  It sounded like a Broadway musical gone bad. Cats turned West Side Story. Bizarre. Gus knew where to look now, though.

  “Where are we going, exactly?” Gray asked. “I assume you have some idea where he is?”

  “I’m going to the airport. He never left town. I can bet on it. He called me, and he was coming to me, and then someone got to him.”

  Helena nodded, changing her tune a little on him being the bad guy. “We’re coming with you.”

  “You’ll slow me down.” Gus bit off the second sentence, which was He’s my mate.

  “Too fucking bad.” She growled at him. “He’s ours. Our brother. We have to help him.”

  Oh, Gus didn’t think so. “You’re gonna have to share, honey. We mated.”

  “What?” Helena stared, and Gray’s head popped up between them.

  “Did he just say….”

  Helena nodded. “Uh-huh.”

  “No fucking way.”

  “Get used to the idea, kiddies.” He needed to call Pete too, get some help mobilized at home. He couldn’t take Sam back to the pack lands to recover. That would just be a bad idea, but Pete could provision one of Gus’s bolt-holes.

  “You and Sam? But you’re one of us….”

  It made Gus a little sick, that even the sibs who loved Sam the best, were the closest to him, didn’t think of him as one of them. Hell, his family kind of felt that way about him. He guessed that made them perfect for each other. “Well, now he’s one of mine.”

  Helena shook her head. “Well, I…. Wow.”

  Gray chuffed softly. “Does that mean I get to bite you now? Since you’re family?”

  “Nope.” No biting. Lord. They hit the suburbs in record time, and Gus took the airport spur, his tires squealing a little.

  Helena had been fucking with her fancy phone. “I have us flights that leave in four hours. Should I get hotel rooms?”

  Such a city girl. “Yeah. Gray will have to be our command center, and he’ll need a place to hole up.”

  “I have medical supplies back in the rental car, which is, unfortunately, back there….” Gray’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t suppose Pete will come deal with it?”

  Helena snorted. “Tell him to bring Lizzie, and he’ll come. She’s his wife, after all.”

  “No shit?” Huh. They’d actually gotten married and Pete hadn
’t invited him…. “Pete will come.”

  “Find us a medical supply place in the city that will deliver, Sister.”

  Helena looked back at Gray, eyebrow arched like he could see it. “You mean we’re not going to hospitalize him?”

  “I thought we’d just kill him and put him out of his misery,” Gray shot back.

  Ah, siblings. Gus rolled his eyes. “Hospitals bad, kids.”

  Helena actually laughed, chuffing softly. The sound didn’t last long, though, before it faded. “He’s okay, right? You’d know if he was….”

  Gus tried not to rumble at her. “I’d like to think so, yeah. We didn’t get to spend much time bonding. And I’ve been grumpy at him.”

  “Are you sure? I mean, he’s a cat, Gus. Can we do that?” Gray looked utterly confused.

  “I’m sure.” That he knew, deep down. It was fucked-up, but it was his.

  “Well, good.”

  Helena looked at Gray, wide-eyed. “Good?”

  “Yes. Sam deserves a mate.”

  Jesus, Gray ran hot and cold. Of course, Sam’s whole family were weirdos, so why not have him be a strange one?

  Helena rolled her eyes. “Mom will be so pleased.”

  Gray nodded. “I think she will.”

  “Only if we manage to get him back.” He was ready to snarl. Maybe to ditch the truck and run across country….

  “We will. We have to.” Helena growled low. “We have to, Gus.”

  They did. He wouldn’t accept anything else. He just needed to get to the East Coast. Then he would track Sam down and never let the man go again.

  Chapter Twenty

  “SAMMY? SAMMY, open your eyes.”

  He growled softly, refusing to move. Gus was supposed to come, but it was taking so long.

  So long.

  He’d stopped trying to move, stopped fighting it.

  Marina came often—talking to him, cleaning him, feeding him. Sam wasn’t sure, but he thought that he’d stopped breathing a few times. The big males had stopped coming when he started stinking. It was a blessing, he thought.