Pursuit of Excellence [Spirit of Sage 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove)

by Jools Louise

  The twins flipped him off, smiling, and gave him a hug.

  “Quit slacking you three, we have customers to serve,” John told them, smirking at Chester and his mate Elijah, who had just wandered in.

  “Yeah, quit slacking,” Elijah drawled.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kevin replied cheekily, rolling his eyes and huffing as though he was being asked to do something far outside his abilities. “Quit bitching. The A-team is back in business.”

  “A-team?” Chester asked with a hearty laugh. “More like the three stooges.” He grinned at the twins and Ethan, who immediately took offense at his sally. “It’s comedy gold, for sure, but I’m not sure you’re quite up there when it comes to great customer service.” He tapped his watch in a mocking show of impatience. “I’ve been standing here all of two minutes and neither one of you has the coffee machine going. Maybe I should head over to MJ’s. At least Mick and Jamie know how to make a hot beverage.”

  There were howls of laughter from John and his crew at this obvious insult. Mick and Jamie had opened a restaurant on the site of the old diner. With Jamie’s father, Jack—the third partner—the three of them operated a pretty slick place, complete with a bar, event room, and a small nightclub in the basement. Mick was also one of John’s very good friends and an ex-army buddy, so the pair wound each other up constantly by insulting each other’s business practices.

  Elijah was laughing, as well, his arm around Chester’s waist as he listened to the banter.

  “If it’s not too much trouble, I can see how busy you all are,” Elijah said with a pointed glance around the virtually empty café. “We’ll take two cappuccinos and two pecan slices,” he concluded, shaking his head, his mint green eyes gleaming with mirth.

  “Coming right up.” Ethan grinned, heading around the other side of the counter to get the pastries.

  Kevin smirked and went to take care of the coffee machine, with Kieran cashing out the order.

  “So, how’s things with you two?” John asked, tilting his head as he studied Chester and Elijah. “How’s the house renovations coming along?”

  The two men were revamping an old house on the outskirts of town, getting it prepared to take on the demands of several youngsters from the ranch. Ten kids, who had all been born as a result of a lab experiment, and who were all shifters, were going to start living in town as soon as the house was up to scratch.

  “We’re nearly ready,” Chester replied excitedly. “Sim and Curt are helping to decorate now that the bulk of the main work is done. You should come over, see what you think.”

  “Yeah, we’d like some input about what kid stuff we should get for each of the rooms,” Elijah added.

  “I could bring my tribe over if you like, but it’d be a good idea to invite the kids who’ll be living there, as well. The little guys tend to do well talking to each other. Sometimes they find it difficult communicating with us adults.” John looked a little sad for just an instant.

  John and his husband Cameron had adopted several kids who had been rescued from a facility in Idaho, where a mixture of youngsters had been incarcerated. Some were victims of kidnapping, like John’s older kids Kristoff and Olivia who were now sixteen. Many had been bred in test tubes as part of some macabre experimentation into shifter DNA. Oscar, Ruby, Murray, and Primrose were all conceived in that way and had only known the cult’s brutal regime. They hadn’t even had names, but numbers and letters, coded like items in a supermarket to be picked out when a suitable buyer could be found…or eliminated when they proved useless to the cult’s plans.

  “I remember being in the labs in Idaho,” Chester said quietly. “I was taken there to help with some of the little ones, but I didn’t follow orders too well.” He shrugged, looking grim. “I’d had enough of being beaten, and with all the tests they did on me, my testosterone levels were off the charts. I was aggressive and too difficult to handle, so they put me in the bunker below the main site.” He looked at John with some sympathy. “I don’t imagine your children have told you everything that happened.”

  “No,” John replied, his tone troubled, looking frustrated. “I can’t fix things for them if I don’t know what happened.”

  “You’re fixing things just by being you,” Chester said seriously. “They’re thriving in a family unit, learning about what it is to be loved and cared for.”

  “Why won’t they tell me?” John asked.

  “Maybe because they’re afraid that if they do, you won’t want them anymore,” Chester replied. John jerked, looking horrified at the suggestion.

  “I would never not want them,” he said, eyes wide. “Is that really the reason?”

  Chester shrugged. “It’s how I felt when I was first rescued. I didn’t want people to know what the cult did to me because then I might be sent somewhere else. Some of the lab kids were used for all sorts of nasty purposes. Freddy will tell you if you ask him.”

  John looked sick. “Oscar talked about the camera room. He said he had to ‘dance,’ naked, in front of a bunch of cameras. He doesn’t really remember when. I know the Will and the Word were involved in all kinds of criminal activities—exploiting children for the adult movie industry and pedophile rings was just the start.”

  Chester moved to give John a hug. “Then you know what happened to some of them, and I would bet your imagination is good enough that you can think of worst case scenarios…and you’d be right. Snuff movies, pedophile groups, exotic dancing…we all went through it. Plus, all the experiments on our shifter animals.” He pulled back from John, who stood like a statue, his face pale and his green eyes dark with shock. “Don’t push them for information. You’ll do more harm than good, believe me. When they’re ready, if they want to and when they feel comfortable, they may tell you stuff. Murphy and his psyche team have done a lot of good work, helping with PTSD and stuff. If you try to get any of them to remember things that they just aren’t able to deal with, you could do irreparable harm.”

  “I knew this wouldn’t be a smooth ride, for any of us. I just want them to know that Cameron and I wouldn’t ever send them away. And I’ll kill the first person who tries to take them.” John added the last sentence in a feral snarl, a vicious look in his eyes.

  “Any one of us would help you,” Elijah said, the same glint in his green gaze.

  “Before any of you fulfill any homicidal fantasies, bearing in mind your urgency when you first came in, may I just say this…” Kevin said, eyeing the two big shifters warily. They both looked at him.

  “What?” Elijah asked, frowning.

  “Your coffee’s ready,” Kevin retorted, nodding at the counter where two steaming cappuccinos sat waiting.

  Elijah blinked, then looked down, and blinked again and grinned at Kevin wryly.

  “I’d say you’re doing a fantastic job with your kids,” Ethan said quietly, clasping John’s broad shoulder. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, ‘cos it seems to be working just fine.”

  John sent him a grateful look, then shook off his somber mood.

  “Let me know when you want the kids to come over, and we’ll help you get your place sorted,” he told Chester. “It would be great to get the kids from the ranch over, too. It’ll make it feel more like their home if they’re part of decorating it and choosing stuff for their rooms.”

  Chester nodded, and then he and Elijah grabbed their pastries and went to an empty table near the window.

  “We can finish up here if you want to go,” Ethan told John softly, seeing the unhappy look on the big Brit’s face.

  John shook his head and gave Ethan a hug and a weak smile. “No, love, that’s okay. It just got very real again, you know? Cameron’s taken the kids over to Murphy and Aiden’s for movie and snack-until-you’re-sick-night.” His smile widened and amusement lit his eyes. “I’ll stay here until the threat of vomit has decreased.”

  Ethan snorted, grinning. “Coward!” he retorted and left the counter to go wipe down tables again.


  “Not at all,” John replied, smirking. “I just wouldn’t want you three reprobates to feel as though I was taking advantage, that’s all.”

  Kevin and Kieran both began to tease John at that, the atmosphere in the café relaxing again to its usual laid-back style.

  Ethan smiled to himself, shaking his head, and his thoughts turned to seven-thirty that evening, when he would see his sexy wolverines again. His cat, which had been silent for so long during his incarceration, yowled in excitement. He couldn’t say he blamed it. The thought of taking on four bad boys was certainly making him giddy.

  Roll on clocking-out time.

  Chapter Two

  Lash rarely felt nervous, but after eight changes of clothing, two showers, and half a packet of breath mints, he had to acknowledge he may just be a little more anxious than usual. He tugged at his warrior’s tail, which he’d dyed a fiery orange with slashes of red. It was a habit he’d developed during times of stress. Tonight, if he’d gotten the signals right, was the night he and his brethren would mate with Ethan…a man they’d been courting for months.

  Staring at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, he frowned, wondering if he should shave off the tiny goatee he’d been growing. He flinched in surprise when a hand gripped his shoulder, whirling him around in a heartbeat, ready to throw down.

  “Whoa!” Slug yelped, backing off fast, eyeing Lash’s claws warily.

  “Shit!” Lash said, his shoulders slumping. “I’m sorry, bro.”

  Slug grabbed his lover and kissed him soundly. “Don’t sweat it,” he replied with a grin. “We’re all feeling a little edgy.”

  “I don’t want to screw this up,” Lash said, groaning at how lame he sounded.

  Slug kissed him again, pulling him closer and cupping his butt as he ground their cocks together. Lash moaned into Slug’s mouth, savoring the familiar taste of his mate and long-time friend.

  “Baby, the only thing we’ll be screwing, if this night goes the way we want it to, is our sweet little Ethan,” Slug drawled as he released Lash, who was now panting heavily, looking dazed.

  “Such an eloquent way of speaking,” Rage chuckled as he entered the bathroom, his iridescent blue Mohawk quivering as he moved. He slapped Slug’s ass teasingly. Pecking both men on the cheek, he went to relieve himself, then washed his hands.

  “Time to go, lads,” Charm called from the bedroom. “We need to stop by the florist’s before it closes, remember?”

  The three in the bathroom exchanged alarmed glances, then hurried out. Lash forgot about his goatee as he began to panic that they would be too late for the florist’s and the big bouquet of flowers they’d ordered would end up being a wilted mess by the time they got to it the next morning.

  * * * *

  Café Anglais’s clock must be going backward, Ethan decided, refusing to look at it again. He was sure it had been showing the same time each time he glanced at it. It was infuriating.

  “Okay, Ethan, get your glad rags on,” John said cheerfully, standing directly behind, laughing when Ethan jumped. “Relax, mate, it’s just a date.”

  Ethan sent him a droll look, getting a knowing wink in return. John had been teasing him all week, since the wolverines had first asked Ethan out. Both knew it was more than time for Ethan to cement the growing bond between the four tattooists. It didn’t take a genius to figure that with Cody out of town, it would be a good time to get a little closer.

  “I’ll get my backpack,” Ethan said, rolling his eyes at his unrepentant boss. He began to head into the back, to the tiny office area that John used to do his ordering.

  “Oh, dude?” Kevin said suddenly, as he went to lock the door to the street. “I took it downstairs, to our staff area. Do you want me to get it for you? I was going to bring it back up, but I forgot. Lash handed it to me earlier, just before they left to get changed.”

  Ethan stared at the stairs leading downstairs to the basement, feeling sick. Then he squared his shoulders and shook his head. “No, it’s okay,” he said. “I need to do this.”

  He walked slowly to the top of the stairs, flipping on the lights to illuminate the way. Bracing himself, aware that there was dead silence in the café, and also aware that everyone was watching him, he made himself take the first step. Halfway down, as he turned the corner, he felt bile rise up in his throat. Panic began to tear through him, and he hyperventilated, struggling to breathe. His vision blurred, and he was back in the tunnel, the walls made of dirt and a little slimy from rainwater soaking down from above. He screamed as he heard a noise behind him, and then screamed again as strong arms wrapped around him, carrying him upstairs again.

  “There you go, Ethan, it’s okay, you’re safe.” Ethan vaguely heard John’s voice speaking to him, as though from a great distance, but his mind was fracturing. He was unable to control the tremors that shuddered through him, nor the tears streaming down his face.

  A paper bag appeared in front of his face, and he breathed into it. It calmed his breathing a little, and he felt a strong hand stroking hypnotically, soothingly, down his back.

  “You’re safe, love,” John repeated calmly, his tone as gentle as Ethan had ever heard, as though Ethan was one of his children. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay, but you’d already started to relapse.”

  Ethan shuddered and began to sob violently, angrily, gradually returning from his flashback. “I’m just so stupid,” he raged, resting his head against John’s shoulder as he was cradled in the big shifter’s lap. He hadn’t even noticed that John had sat down at one of the tables, he’d been so lost in his terrified thoughts.

  “You’re not stupid,” Kevin said sympathetically as he walked up. He carried a tray containing mugs of hot chocolate smothered in whipped cream, which he placed on the table, and then sat down, Kieran joining them. Ethan realized he’d been trapped in his head for several minutes, which frightened him even more.

  “I can’t even imagine how scared you must have been, trapped in those tunnels,” Kieran said, tears in his light green eyes. “You suffered years of abuse, and the mental torture from your mom, then they shoved you in a hole in the ground with a group of guys who weren’t exactly sociable at the time.” Ethan smiled a little at the description of his wolverine mates. “Unsociable” was an understatement.

  “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone,” John said quietly, stroking Ethan’s hair. Ethan wondered why John was so worried that he wasn’t a good father to his kids. From where Ethan was sitting, he was doing a fantastic job in place of Ethan’s dad, Cody. “When you’re ready, then you can go down there on your own. The first time, though, you probably should go with somebody else, like Jamie did with Mick.”

  Ethan gave a short laugh, sniffing back his tears. He’d heard about Mick and Jamie’s solution, which had involved making love on every available surface in the nightclub below the restaurant MJ’s. Jamie, Mick’s mate, had been attacked in the old diner, then severely beaten up by the cult’s thugs, causing nasty injuries and long-term mental trauma. From what Ethan had been told, after Mick had cajoled Jamie downstairs for the first time, Jamie now found any excuse to head downstairs.

  “Okay now?” John asked, and Ethan nodded, jumping a little when there was a hard rapping sound at the front door. He looked over and saw his mates standing there, looking gorgeous, with Lash clutching a large bouquet of flowers. All of them looked alarmed to see him sitting in John’s lap. He grimaced, thinking he must look a sight, with a dirty apron on, his hair greasy from cooking doughnuts earlier, and his face streaked with tears.

  Kieran went to unlock the door, standing aside as the four wolverines all piled in, rushing toward Ethan, who flushed with embarrassment, wiping his face on his apron.

  “What happened?” Lash asked, lifting Ethan from John’s lap and holding him close, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks.

  “I went downstairs to get my backpack,” Ethan said, breathing in the seductive s
cent of Lash’s body. He reveled in the concern and caring as all his mates gathered around, stroking him or kissing him or holding his hand.

  “Downstairs? To the basement?” Slug asked, sounding horrified.

  Ethan nodded, his lower lip trembling as tears threatened again.

  “He’s tired of being afraid,” Rage said, holding Ethan’s hand and stroking his thumb along the soft skin of Ethan’s palm.

  “Why don’t you take him home?” John said. “I think he needs to be with you four tonight, not in a crowded movie theater.”

  Charm nodded, then paused for a moment. “What about the backpack?” he asked. “I’d go myself, but…it’s the basement. I haven’t been able to go down there either.”

  Ethan sent him a startled look. He hadn’t forgotten about the wolverines’ experience, and knew they’d had it nearly as bad as him. He just thought they must be far stronger than he was. They never showed fear.

  “None of us have been in the basement,” Slug admitted, flushing a little as Ethan turned in Lash’s arms to stare at each of them. “We have our demons to face, too,” he added with a wry smile.

  “Here,” John said, clutching Ethan’s bag after heading downstairs to get it while everyone was talking. “Go home, talk, have fun and frolic, and don’t bother coming in tomorrow. We’ll tell people you’re taking the day off,” he said to the wolverines. Then he shooed them all out of the café and locked the door behind them, grinning wickedly, although his eyes showed kindness.

  “My place or yours?” Ethan asked suddenly, as they all stood outside the café, looking at each other nervously.

  Rage grabbed Ethan’s hand and smiled a sexy smile. “Ours is closer,” he said and tugged Ethan along, the others following closely behind.

  * * * *

  Ethan’s senses were filled with the scent and sound and touch of his four wolverine bad boys. Letting themselves into the bed and breakfast by the side entrance, they escorted him down a short hallway, past a communal living area that was presently empty, and through into another corridor.