But failure had never stopped an Addison from exploration, which had brought Jack to the beautiful valleys of Bavaria. And a group of seven polyamorous gnomes, all eager to get a piece of him.
Technically, his job had been to subdue them, trap them, and bring them to justice at the local interspecies negotiator’s office, but when Jack had first read about their scandalous, obscene behaviors scaring away venators, he took a coach all the way from Berlin to try and get himself some action.
He let them entrap him and pin him to the ground with his own rope—naked—but what they didn’t know was that the rope had been created by Jack’s ingenious sister and would loosen if he pressed hard in a sequence only Jack knew. If he needed to, he could free himself from peril at any second.
One of the gnomes, a thick-limbed fellow with a salt-and-pepper beard and large feet, slapped his small hand against Jack’s face, leaving behind a sting, before barking something in German.
Jack moaned into the gag made of the tiniest of comforters and a gnome-sized bedsheet, and jerked his hips, aroused by the prospect of getting intimately acquainted with this depraved septet. Were he anyone else—he’d have been trapped for good.
Packe, the youngest of the gnomes, still beardless and with a high-pitched voice, was the only one to know English. He gleefully crawled up Jack’s chest on his hands and knees, offering a toothy smile. His teeth were so ungodly small in comparison to the size of his mouth!
“You will be sorry you walked into our territory, human,” Packe said, before rapidly unfastening his pants to present his cock, which already seemed unnaturally large for his size, and still growing.
The one with the annoying giggle rubbed a feather along Jack’s cheek, then all the way down his neck. He was saying something in German, but it sounded as if he were laughing at his own jokes. The glide of the feather down his body made Jack wriggle helplessly in the binds.
Another gnome pulled his cock out and had to use two of his tiny hands to stroke himself. No one would ever believe Jack if he told them about this.
Their cocks were small in comparison to that of an average human male’s, but those gnomes were known to play rough, and just thinking about them parting his buttocks, two, maybe even three pricks pushing into Jack’s hole at once, set his skin aflame and made him rock against the teasing touch.
That was exactly what he wanted—the kind of illicit experience most of his friends wouldn't have been able to get their heads around. He was about to get fucked into oblivion by seven gnomes, and do his actual job of bringing them to justice once he was satisfied. What a fantastic way of killing two birds with one stone!
Jack gasped when a rock fell to the side of his head. He hadn’t imagined they’d be playing that rough. But the gnomes seemed confused as well, and when Jack turned to look where the rock fell, he frowned at the smoke coming out of the round object.
He knew the scent—a Slumber Smoke Bomb! He writhed in his binds in panic.
No!
Not yet!
But Packe’s eyes closed, and he fell headfirst to Jack’s chest, still holding his engorged cock. Jack fought the sudden tiredness, but it was no use. Soon enough, he dozed off as well.
*
Jack woke with a herby aftertaste at the back of his tongue. The world still rocked when he opened his eyes, but the first thing he saw made him sit up so rapidly the blanket covering his chest pooled in his lap.
The seven gnomes reached toward him from between thick iron bars of a wheeled cage, their little faces red, and their voices reaching a pitch so high his ears were starting to hurt.
He froze when someone spoke behind him.
“At least you wouldn’t have gotten pregnant this time, Addison.”
Roux Chat-Bonnes. Jack would’ve recognized that French accent anywhere.
A hot flush spread over Jack’s face like wildfire, but there was no point hiding when Roux had already seen it all. At least he wasn’t aware Jack had allowed the gnomes to capture him on purpose.
“You win some, you lose some. These things happen,” Jack said, glancing over his shoulder at Roux, who watched him, while consuming dried fish and cream from a can.
He perched on a fallen tree trunk, and wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off the white streaks on his belly. “They happen to reckless venators.”
So typical. Jack and Roux hadn’t actually met in person in the six months since last Halloween, but a rivalry of sorts had still developed between them after Roux had reached Warsaw before Jack, ridding its people of the menacing basilisk that haunted the sewers. Jack had supposedly missed Roux by ten minutes, only to find the chat’s mocking letter by the headless basilisk body. The note said only, Got to it first.
The chat was such a vengeful, sexy creature.
“Not everyone can reach the roof of a small cottage in a single jump.”
Roux smirked and licked his paws once he was done eating. “Am I supposed to feel guilty over being good at my job?”
“You have an unfair advantage,” Jack said and stood, letting the blanket drop. Would Roux look at him? Was he a pussycat?
“Says the man with more gadgets than anyone else, a last name that opens doors, and no worries over money. You really want to talk about unfair advantages?”
He did glance at his body, Jack was sure he did. If it wasn’t for chats being such distrustful creatures, he would have banged one by now, but the opportunity just hadn’t arisen, and the only chats that he’d found offering favors for money in Paris were female.
Jack chewed on his lip and started pulling on his leather pants. So he wouldn’t exactly put it into words like Roux had, but the Addison name did make some things easier for Jack. But it wasn’t as if he’d chosen who his family were. Was he supposed to shed his identity in order to appease his rival? Anyone would have made use of connections and opportunities.
“You’re really blowing it out of proportion. None of the humans complain.”
“And you shouldn’t be complaining either, because if it wasn’t for me, your ‘not sleeping with creatures’ count would grow to minus two. Or eight, for that matter.” He got off the tree trunk and slicked his ear back with his paw. How was he both so cute and infuriating at the same time?
Something about his attitude and that mean way he was flicking his tail made Jack’s blood move faster. “Do you sleep with creatures?”
Roux’s ears popped right back up, and his pupils widened. “Excuse me? Aren’t we all creatures? Or do you go by the outdated definition that singles out humans and lumps the rest of us together?”
“He’s asking if you fuck other species, you dumb moggy!” Packe yelled from the behind the bars, waving his hand in frustration. “Just open this cage and I’ll show you how good it can be!”
Roux shook his head. “With that toothpick of yours? I don’t think so.”
“So narrow-minded! Wouldn’t want your spiky dick anyway!”
There it was—Jack’s new favorite topic. “Oh, is it really spiky?” he asked, slowly completing his look by putting on the white shirt.
Roux took a step back. Always so skittish when it came to things that mattered. “That is none of your business. We’re not just overgrown cats. Unless you are an overgrown baboon.”
Jack grinned. “My ass doesn’t look like a baboon’s, I can tell you that with no shame. And I bet you’ve seen my cock twice already.”—there, he’d put himself in a vulnerable position to entice the chat to speak—“Why don’t you just tell me about yours? It’s not like it’s some terrible secret.”
“It’s a private matter, so I don’t think it’s any of your business. For someone not wanting to sleep with creatures, you are awfully interested in my genitalia.” Roux walked past Jack and grabbed the rope with which he would pull the wheeled cage full of gnomes. At least he wasn’t making a dig at Jack’s cock, so maybe he did like it. Jack certainly did like Roux’s tail. It was so soft and flexible. He wondered if chats used them for jerking off, an
d if that felt like being touched by someone else.
Like when you used your left hand.
“You know my family has academic traditions. I’m a curious man,” Jack said and watched Roux send a pink flare into the air, to signal his position to the local authorities.
Jack ignored Packe’s swearing and all the German curse words the rest of the gnomes were undoubtedly throwing their way.
“I have more important things to do than satisfy your curiosity, Addison.”
Jack snorted. “So far, you’ve been wasting time deflecting my questions, Chat-Bonnes. Might be easier and faster if you revealed your secrets,” he said, approaching Roux with his gaze focused on the soft-looking fur at the back of his neck. He was on the verge of burying his face in it but didn’t want to cause a scene when the local negotiator could appear at any moment.
And if they were caught in the act, Roux would surely have no qualms about telling everyone that Jack Addison was, in fact, interested in touching creatures. Scandalous information like this would inevitably reach Jack’s father all the way in New York, and Jack’s adventures would be cut short. Jack didn’t need more conflict in his life. He wasn’t doing himself any favors by lusting for his enemy. Was Roux his enemy, though? Did Jack actually lust for him or was it just curiosity? He hadn’t been with a furry creature yet, and perhaps Roux seemed available enough to draw Jack’s interest.
Roux opened his mouth, but then meowed loudly, spinning around while all the hair on his body bristled. “Leave it! Leave it!” He hissed at Packe, who grinned at them with Roux’s tail between his teeth.
As if on cue, the other gnomes grabbed at the vulnerable tail, and when they pulled Roux barely kept himself upright.
Jack hurried to the cart and twisted Packe’s nose so hard the cartilage inside it might have been permanently deformed. He then grabbed Roux’s tail at the base, to stabilize him, and proceeded to punch the sneaky creatures with his fist. “Let him go!”
Packe screamed, but at least he let go, and Roux managed to pull the tail to himself protectively. The fur was damp and stained red where Packe had bitten him.
“Always the easy target, huh?” He glanced at Jack with his green big-pupiled eyes. “Humans once attacked my dad and hurt his tail so bad most of it needed to be amputated.”
Jack stilled, staring at him in horror. That had escalated quickly.
“I—I’m sorry, that’s horrible. Let me take a look at that.”
Roux stilled, as if assessing whether he wasn’t in any danger, but he eventually extended the tail to Jack. “Cuts can be hard to deal with, too. Whenever I need stitches, they shave off some fur, and then I’ve got this stupid bald patch,” he groaned. This had to be the first time Jack heard him open up about a problem.
He led an unresisting Roux to his backpack. “For moments like that, do you have like... toupees?” he asked, but his mind was already somewhere else. The tail felt so alive in his hand—warm, slim, and kind of bony under all that pretty fluff.
Roux shook his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. A chat wears his scars proudly.”
Jack spilled some of his water over the nasty bite before drying it with one of his spare undershirts. “Nobody knows about it, because you chats act so standoffish.”
Roux’s ears flattened, and he grabbed Jack’s arm when Jack touched the bite. For an experienced venator, he seemed really sensitive. “Well, now you know.”
Jack shrugged and took out his special wound and abrasion salve. The stuff was incredibly expensive due to some of its ingredients being so rare, like the pricy ambergris, but it was so effective the investment definitely paid for itself. He applied a generous amount to the wound. “Why don’t we just forget our past arguments and start with a clean slate, huh? It’s much more practical than leaving each other passive-aggressive notes.”
Roux took a deep breath and looked up at Jack. “I suppose I was following you back at the Nessie hunt to try and get an advantage.”
“Kuss, kuss, kuss!” the gnomes started chanting, and Roux instantly backed away, hissing at the cage.
Jack massaged the hurt tail, scowling at the pesky gnomes. He needed to rope Roux back in and see for himself how it felt to kiss a chat. Would the whiskers be a nuisance or arouse him by gently tickling his skin? Were chat lips even suitable for the kind of kissing Jack was used to?
“I know, and I forgive you. If you were straightforward about it, then maybe we could have hunted it down together,” he said, even though there was not a chance Nessie could have fucked them both. If Roux had been with Jack that past October, he wouldn’t have had that life-changing experience.
“I work alone,” Roux said, slipping his tail out of Jack’s reach.
Several voices approached them from the nearby path through the woods, so Jack gave up on the flirting... for now.
“Over here!” he yelled, and soon enough, the negotiator arrived with four men to help her escort the gnomes back to their own dimension. The locals knew where the crack between worlds was, but thanks to the negotiator insisting on not killing the gnomes, it had been left open. Guards had been put next to it, but it was far better to get rid of sentient creatures this way instead of killing them, or leaving them orphaned in a new dimension.
Roux stood on his toes, most likely to seem taller than he actually was, and held his paw out for the reward money. Jack joined him immediately, even though he preferred to remain subtle about payments, and usually waited for the officer of law to broach the subject.
The negotiator, a tall woman with hair wrapped around her head in a neat braid crown, frowned as she approached on a graceful horse. In heavily accented English, she spoke, not even touching the purse resting against her hip. “Monsieur Chat-Bonnes? Mr. Addison, I presume?”
They must have been the only venators who registered for this hunt, then. This, or the negotiator had seen a picture of Jack in a newspaper. His face was not one to be forgotten.
Roux made a courteous bow. “Roux Chat-Bonnes, at your service, Frau Gauch. I report successfully apprehending the gnomes.”
“We’ve done it together,” Jack said, offering Gauch his best smile.
Roux turned to him. “Excuse me? If anything, I saved you from molestation.”
One of the women in the negotiator’s party snorted.
Jack frowned, already cooking on the inside. He would not be mocked! “I don’t know what you mean. I set a trap and was just about to apprehend them when you showed up to reap the rewards.”
Gauch raised her eyebrows at Roux, who clenched his fists. “I refuse to argue about this. The reward is mine.”
“I can’t really process this claim, but I’m happy for the two of you to share the reward. After all, half is better than nothing.”
Jack smiled at the negotiator, before turning toward Roux with a proud smile. “It was a special rope. I could have freed myself at any time. I can demonstrate this to you, so why don’t we share and celebrate the bounty with some nice German beer?”
Roux’s whiskers twitched, but he agreed, despite shaking his head, so it was hard to say where he stood.
“There’s another urgent job if you two are up for it,” Gauch said as she paid them both. “It’s a matter of some discretion as well, so we haven’t advertised it nationally. The last thing we want is more bad press for werewolves.”
One of the men who’d accompanied her shook his head. “Maybe they should get what they deserve for breaking the laws and breaching their borders.”
Gauch snarled but ignored her entourage and spoke directly to Jack and Roux. “Most werewolves are ordinary citizens who live their lives among us. They shouldn’t all be punished for the crimes of the few.”
Jack licked his lips. This was juicy. Central Europe had a large werewolf population. Most of the creatures lived on reservations created as means to offer them lots of land to roam while not encroaching on the rights of the human population. But some of the larger cities in the area also boasted werewo
lf districts, where people like Jack could sample their culture, and where illegal wolf pheromones were readily available if one knew who to ask.
Jack had been very excited to visit Prague, purchase a bottle, and meet some werewolves.
“Yes,” he said, without much thinking.
Gauch blinked at him. “I haven’t even said what the job was yet.”
Jack smiled. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
Roux’s ears twitched. “Me neither.”
Chapter 2
The little vial of werewolf pheromones was hot in Jack’s chest pocket, and he kept touching it as he watched the monumental landscape pass by. He was alone in the train compartment, so he rested his feet on the seat opposite and ate warm pastries from a basket brought in by the on-board service. But while the sweet, flaky crust melted on his tongue, he kept thinking about the metal bottle that held the key to this hunt.
The werewolf district of Prague had been a bit of a disappointment, since the only fur he’d spotted there had been already stripped off the animal that had originally worn it. A helpful barman in one of the local inns whose forearms were covered by a thick pelt of fur, and whose teeth seemed rather sharp and large for a human, told Jack that city werewolves didn’t want to stand out too much. Most of them only shifted away from human settlements, and Jack was too let down to look for werewolf fun in that place.
He wanted something authentic.
That reminded him of the letter he’d picked up from the local venator office before boarding, and he pulled it out of his coat pocket. A smile stretched his lips when he recognized Drake Nguyen’s tidy cursive on the envelope, and he extracted the single piece of paper.
Dear Friend,
How are things on the Continent? Ruslana Ratayeva recently visited London on her way to Ireland, and she told me you two briefly met in Berlin. Good job with that bear shifter!
You’ll want to know that Chad is growing fast. I inquired at my old college, and if he is indeed a male, he shouldn’t grow to such enormous proportions as the female you encountered. He is very trainable, but it’s not commands like sit and fetch that I’m talking about! The little bugger can count to ten, and I’m happy to tell you that we won’t be alone in the exciting endeavor of raising him any longer.
Jack Addison vs. a Whole World of Hot Trouble - The Complete Series Page 7
