by BA Tortuga
Connor leaned his head back and closed his eyes, sorting through all the threads he knew in the universe to find Lisle.
Where are you, little girl? Where did you slip off to…?
Slip.
She slipped.
She slipped down.
Connor pushed himself to see more, but he couldn’t. Damn it, if he could just visualize it, he could tell Sam.
“Kitty. Ragbone, honey. Your nose is bleeding pretty bad. Come on back.”
“Huh?” He blinked, his vision blurry as all get-out. He glanced out the window, where the mountains had given way to desert hills. “Where the hell are we?”
“Utah. We just hit the Nevada line. You’ve been out a long time.” Brock sounded worried. “There’s chocolate in the glove box, Kleenex too. I stopped real quick in Provo, but we’re making good time.”
“I’m sorry. I was looking.”
“I could tell. That’s hard work.”
“Sometimes, yes.” Sometimes it was easy as breathing. Like with Brock. He’d never even had to look. Connor had just arrived and there he was.
“Well, you didn’t get any calls. I plugged your phone in, just in case.”
“Thank you.” He reached for it, shocked to see his hands shaking like a leaf in an Elvis song. “I must have been searching a good long time.”
“Yes. Chocolate. Eat it.”
“Sorry.”
“No. No apologies. Just eating.”
“Right on. I need to find her. She’s scared.”
“But alive?” Brock asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, alive.”
“Okay. What else?” Brock asked after he had some chocolate.
“She slipped. She was playing—chasing something—and she slipped.”
“Do you have any idea where? Do you have steep slopes?”
“Not like that. I mean, if she was out in the open, I would see it. That’s why I can’t see her. I can only hear her, so to speak.”
“A cave, then, or a deep hole.”
“Yes. She’s trying to get out, but she’s real tired.”
“Call your people, huh? We won’t need to stop again, but we have two hours to go, even pushing ninety.”
“Good idea.” He called and got Sam, who was barely coherent, talking hard to his friend because she wasn’t gone, not gone from them. Not gonna happen, not while he was on the job. “Lost, yes, but not gone. She just needs finding. She slipped—a hole, a cave, somewhere down and dark, but she’s not gone, I swear to God.”
“In the ground? Oh God. Oh, poor baby.” Sam called out, “Gus! Gus, she’s in a hole or a cave!”
“I’ll tell everyone. Tell Connor to hurry up.”
“You hear that?” Sam asked.
“I heard him.” Connor glanced at Brock. “I have a good ride.”
“Excellent. Soon?”
“Couple hours. We’re flying.”
“Soon, Con. I’m losing it.”
“I won’t let you down.”
“I know. Bye.”
He clicked the Off button, and Brock reached over with one hand to squeeze his leg. “It’ll be fine.”
“It will. Thank you.” For everything. For this and being here and driving and all.
“Man, I bet she’ll be hungry. I know I am.” Brock was trying to make him smile, he could tell.
“Mona—that’s Sam’s mom—she’ll be cooking. Chili, maybe. She makes a good chili.”
“Does she? That’s high praise coming from a Texan.”
“She does. It’s got beans, but she’s got a pack to feed.” Sometimes practicality had to win over what was tradition.
“Only competition chili doesn’t these days, honey.”
“Really? Huh.” Go figure. “Do you like chili?”
“Oh, Ragbone, I’m from right on the Texas and Oklahoma border. What do you think?”
Connor frowned. “I think you don’t sound like it.”
“I know.” Brock snorted. “I had to get neutral when I went undercover years ago.”
“Neutral. Was it hard? How did you get the job?” They weren’t idle questions. He wanted to know. Needed to know all the weird little details that made up the most fascinating son of a bitch on earth.
“I was pretty young, so it was easy to mimic a newscaster, right? The job was hard, and that was why I went into Fish and Wildlife Services instead of something else.” Brock skipped around the question a bit, he noticed.
“That’s a nonanswer answer. I like it.”
“I don’t want to tell you how I got the job right now.” Brock grinned over. “I just need to drive. There are wet wipes too. In the console.”
“Am I stinky?”
“Your nose, honey. You’ve been bleeding. You may have popped something loose inside there.”
“Oh!” He pulled down the sunshade to look in the mirror. “Horror show.”
“Yeah. That happen a lot?”
“More than I want, less than I fear.” See? He could do nonanswer answers too.
“Mmm. Men of secrets we are.”
He made a sound—half shocked goose, half stepped-on catfish. Secrets. That was him. Secret boy.
Brock chuckled. “I love that sound.”
“I know, it’s pure-D class, isn’t it?”
“It so is.” The miles flashed by, and Brock fell silent again, the radio low enough to hear the sound of Brock’s belly rumbling.
“I brought snacks. Did you eat them all?”
“Nope. I had a Sprite and a weird corn dog at the truck stop when I got gas. I could use peanuts.”
“I’m on it. What was weird about it? The wiener?”
“Crumbly and dry. I mean, not a real corny dog, you know?”
“Ah. One of those places where you can’t tell the difference between the chicken and the fish. I do love me a corny dog. Hell, I’m pretty damn fond of meat on a stick.”
“Yes! I thought maybe the corny dog was recognizable.” Brock grimaced. “Not too much, but it was enough to tide me over.”
“Picky, picky.” He dug out a can of peanuts and a bag of jerky. “Here, see? Goodies.”
“Not salmon, right?”
“Bison.” He handed over a bite. “You pups are prejudiced against dried fish. The bears like it.”
“I guess they do. I like shrimp.” Brock munched through the words.
“What’s your position on crawdaddies?”
“I suck the heads.” Brock winked, and Connor laughed hard enough that he could almost believe it was all going to be all right. “It will be, Ragbone. You find things, remember?”
“I do. It’s built into me.”
He had no doubt he would find Lisle. He just hoped it was in time.
Chapter Nine
THEY MADE the twelve-and-a-half-hour drive in just over nine and a half. Brock pulled in where Connor told him to park, and people spilled out of the door of a large cabin.
“Connor? Connor, please.” A little girl came rushing out, green eyes bloodshot. “Please find her.”
“I got it, Bella. I got this.”
“I can’t find her. I can’t.” She glanced at Brock, her eyes wide.
“I’m here to help Connor,” Brock told her. “We’ll find your—”
“Sister.” She sniffled hard.
“We’ll find her, I promise.” Oh, never make promises you can’t keep. Brock knew better.
“Where is Sam, baby girl?”
“Right here. You came, brother.” A long, lean man who was the polar physical opposite of his Ragbone walked up, grabbed Connor. “Help me. Please. She’s my baby.”
“I’m on it.” Brock had to admit, Connor sounded confident, sure, like there was no question.
He knew better. Connor hadn’t zeroed in on an actual location, but Brock was there and more than willing to help with whatever he needed to do.
Connor smiled, and then, like breathing, there was a huge bobcat standing there. He gave a growl that sounded like it came out of an an
imal twenty times Connor’s size, and then those huge paws were moving.
Brock stared for a moment, but Sam was suddenly a damned jaguar, and two wolves shot past him. An older lady smiled at him before taking Bella back inside, and shit, he needed to run with the others.
Connor could flat-out move; Brock would give him that.
He chased the pack, hanging back because the kid wouldn’t know him. If they needed brute strength, he would step in.
Connor’s voice rang out over and over, settling across the mountains like a sheet, vibrating in his bones.
They would find her. They had to. Connor’d promised. A rock formation off to his left caught his eye, and his nose twitched. There could be caves out there. Maybe quarter of a mile.
He barked, reaching out to tell Connor, who was already heading for the rocks, climbing down with an alacrity that shocked the living hell out of him. This kitty was built for speed.
Brock shifted when he got to the base of the outcropping. He was a better, faster climber as a human, and Connor might need his opposable thumbs.
Connor kept calling, again and again, the sounds making Brock’s human ears ache.
He thought he heard an answering sound, but it was so weak it could have been a distant bark or a bird.
Sam screamed, though, pure joy ripping through the sound.
Connor disappeared like smoke, just gone like he’d never even been there.
Shit. He scrambled up where he’d seen Connor disappear. “Ragbone! Are you okay?”
“Uncle Connor? Uncle Connor, is that your kitty?”
Fuck yeah. “He’s found her!”
He heard a flurry of barks, and he peered over the edge of the cave lip. “Connor?”
“I’ve got her. I sure as shit don’t know how to get her up!”
“Okay. I need a hand here!” He needed humans. None of them had climbing gear, but they could see how far they could reach if a couple of the others held his ankles.
“I’m bringing rope, but you guys move fast!”
He wasn’t sure who that was, but it was a fully dressed human with a flashlight and ropes.
“Perfect. Let’s set up a belay so I can get down there,” Brock said.
“Here.” The guy handed him sweats. “I’m on it. Jason. I’m Helena’s coyote. Pleased. Connor? I’m sending down ropes!”
“Heard!” Connor shouted. He didn’t sound overly distressed, so Lisle must be in decent shape.
Brock slid into the pants. No rope burn on the peen. He nodded once Jason got the ropes in place, a couple of pitons pounded into a rock crevasse. “Nice. I’ll go down. I need you up here since you’re fully clothed and can call for help.”
“Works for me. Sam’s going to hold on to her and never let go once you fetch her up anyway.”
“I bet.” Brock tested the rope’s strength before slithering down into the hole. The walls of the cave were slick as snot.
There was a filthy, hysterical little girl in Connor’s arms, and he was singing to her, just like neither one of them had fallen down a hole.
“Hey.” There was barely enough light to see. “I’m Brock. I’m a friend of Connor’s. Your dad is waiting for you up there.”
She looked at Connor, who nodded. “He’s amazing, sweetie. A hero. He saves bears!”
“Bears?”
“Yep.” Brock grinned. “Can I carry you out and come back for Connor? I’m pretty strong.”
“Is Daddy Sam and Gussy up there?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Well, he hoped a Gus was there. He knew a Sam was.
“’Kay.” She came to him, arms held up. “I want to go home.”
“I bet you do.” He winked at Connor over her head. “Okay, hon. You have to hang on tight. Piggyback.”
“’Kay. Don’t stay down here, Uncle Connor. It’s yucky.”
“I’ll be up in no time at all, Lisle.”
He’d bet Connor’s cat could leap right out in a few bounds. If not, he could shimmy up the rope, assuming he could get his hands free from the slime that coated them.
He climbed up, keeping it steady and easy, making sure not to jostle her baby body. Brock had to use only the rope, because there was no foot traction on the wall, and his arms shook by the time several sets of hands reached to help him up into the open air.
Lisle was plucked off his back unceremoniously, the panther curling around her, nudging and licking her, hysterical sounds escaping the animal.
She seemed okay with that, and obviously her dad wasn’t gonna eat her, so Brock turned back to the cave. He nodded to Jason. “Steady belay, man. Thanks.”
“Anytime.” Jason peered down the hole. “Connor? You coming up, or are you sleeping down there?”
The low growl was a little grumpy and incredibly hoarse, and then tufted ears appeared.
Jason backed off, but Brock braced to help, tugging Connor the rest of the way up and out by the ruff. “There, Ragbone. Nice save.”
Ragbone growled softly, head-butting him good and hard.
Those ears fascinated him, and he stroked them before rubbing that furry back. Connor had almost as much fuzz as he did.
A huge man who screamed Alpha nodded to him. “Come on. You two must be tired and starving. I owe you both a beer and a hug.”
Connor rubbed against the big guy’s leg, then came to love on Brock again. Silly kit. “I would murder a beer and a piece of meat of some kind. Brock.” He held out a hand to shake.
“Gus. Pleased. Thanks for your help. We must have wandered past this a dozen times, but no one has a voice like Connor.”
“This was hidden so well too.”
Gus pulled a wry face. “I’m a freaking rock hound, man. I feel like an idiot for not seeing caves on my land.”
Jason the coyote snorted. “Your shoulders are too wide to fit in that hole, Alpha.”
Brock had to agree with that. “What are you, a dire wolf?”
Gus chuckled, moving him back toward the little compound of houses. “Nah. Just a recently chosen Alpha.”
“With a gigantic pack to defend.” Jason didn’t sound worried.
“Be good, Jason.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
Gus chuckled, though, the sound warm. “My pack grew super fast, you know? And we lack adult males. No offense, Jason.”
“None taken,” Jason said cheerfully. “I was in captivity a while. I don’t shift, and I get a little addled on the moon.”
“But he’s a great spouse and mine.” Lady wolf. Impressive.
“Hey, I’m not poaching.” Brock winked and laughed when Connor damned near knocked him over. “Easy, Ragbone.”
He reached down and stroked again, wincing as he felt the muck and mud covering Connor’s underbelly. “Oh, gross. You need a bath, Kitty.”
“Your feet aren’t much better,” Gus pointed out.
“I assume there’s a bathtub in one of the houses? Somewhere to get clean?”
“Yep. Connor has a loft in our house, but we have a guest cabin now too, if you’d rather.”
“Whatever makes y’all most comfortable. I know you don’t know me from Adam.”
“Well, we know you’re not a housecat,” Gus said.
Jason laughed out loud and Brock nodded. “Nope. Wolfy wolf. I do have a bobcat buddy, though.”
“You do. You two can use the bathroom at the main house and stay up in Connor’s room. I know he sleeps well up there.”
There was just this assumption that he’d been sleeping with Connor, that they didn’t mind.
Brock didn’t argue. Even if they just snuggled, he would be tickled to steal a little more time with Connor. And God knew, Connor had proven he was good at what he did. Brock had to admire that.
In fact he wanted to know how it worked, a little bit. He wanted to explore it—the sound, the finding, the whole thing. Well, maybe not the nosebleed. Still, he was intrigued. Starving too.
Connor made this hilarious chuffing noise, bouncing over a large rock. G
od, that was adorable.
“Kitties, huh? You just have to go with it.” The pleased resignation in Gus’s voice made him wonder.
“Yep.” The trip back to the house took longer, but it was easy, no longer fraught with fear.
The scent of meat hit him as they got to the clearing that held a half-dozen or more houses. His truck sat next to the biggest of them, another pickup there—a black diesel king cab a lot like his.
Connor yowled at him, leading him to a door and standing, tail twitching impatiently.
“Bathroom’s through that door to the left. Towels are in the press next to the toilet. I’ll leave sweats.”
Oh, Gus was a good man.
“Come on, Kitty. Let’s clean up and go meet the pack.” Had he just said that? Him? Shit. He didn’t do packs.
Still, he got rinsed off, the stinky mud sloughing away. Connor shook off his fur and started washing his hair without a word. It felt like heaven on earth, and if he hadn’t been starving and armed with the knowledge that a bunch of people were waiting to formally meet him, he might have just stayed there forever.
“They’re waiting for us,” Connor muttered. “No fair.”
“No. No, it isn’t. Still. Gus promised food.”
Connor leaned back against the tile, hands slapped over his heart dramatically. “Tossed over for snacks. I’m wounded!”
He swatted Connor’s hip, and then they tumbled out, playing and laughing, teasing and rubbing and drying each other off. Finally, though, they were clean and dry, and he was dressed in borrowed sweats and going to be social.
The older lady he’d seen at the cabin shot him a tired smile. “I hear we owe you. Mona Finn. I’m Sam, Helena, Gray, and Lizzie’s mom.”
“Nice to meet you.” He held out his hand again, but Mona waved it off to hug him, and he closed his eyes, the memory of his mom washing over him so strong.
“Thank you for coming, dear boy. Let me feed you. I have chili, burgers, and there’s cake.”
“Ragbone says you make amazing chili.” He smiled for her. Connor had disappeared but popped back up now, wearing… some sort of caftan, those wild dreads flying.
The whole thing made him grin. Easy access.
“I could eat a wolf, Momma Mona,” Connor said.
