Handful of Mate

by April Dinh

  He kept his gun trained in front of him, moving cautiously toward the living room. He grimaced when a floorboard creaked. Pyke stilled and listened. The voices had gone silent.

  The smell of humans grew stronger as he entered the living room. No one was there. He turned, sniffing the air then narrowing his eyes as he crept toward the kitchen.

  A shadow appeared, too late for Pyke to react. A single gunshot sounded, echoing in the room, making Pyke’s ears ring as he went down, his chest on fire and his gun flying out of his hand.

  Two men came from the kitchen, smirking evilly at him. “We’re here for Nester, so I guess you’re just collateral damage,” the one with a patch over his left eye said.

  “Stop talking and finish him off,” the other, oversized, man said. “I’ll go find our target.”

  Pyke snarled, rolling to his side. Eyepatch shot him again, in the gut. Pyke shouted, the pain almost too much to bear as he still tried to get up. He had to save his mate.

  Pyke’s heart gave out when he saw Nester racing down the hallway. He dropped, skidding on the hardwood floors like he was sliding into home base at a baseball game, ducking under the pudgy man, who tried to grab him.

  “No!” Pyke gritted his teeth, the pain shooting through his chest.

  Nester grabbed Pyke’s gun, aimed, and fired repeatedly. Pyke wasn’t even sure Nester was hitting his target, until the burly man dropped. Nester spun, firing at Eyepatch, who ran for the door and was gone.

  Nester dropped to his knees, his hand hovering over Pyke. “I’ll call an ambulance.”

  “No need.” Pyke hissed. “I just need to shift to heal. Call the sheriff before I pass out.”

  “But you’re losing a lot of blood!” Nester set the gun on the floor next to him. “Shift, damn it!”

  “Call Copache. Now, Rambo.” Despite his injuries, Pyke grinned. “You didn’t tell me you could shoot.”

  “That’s because I didn’t know I could.” Nester got up, ran down the hallway, and returned with his phone. “See, I’m calling. Now shift.” Nester squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe I murdered another guy.”

  “Again, self-defense.” Pyke panted, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold onto consciousness much longer.

  “I don’t know the sheriff’s personal number.” Nester looked at him as if Pyke knew it by heart.

  “Get my phone from the room. He’s listed under Grayson.” Oh fuck. Pyke’s stomach felt as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer that had been on fire. “Hurry.”

  Nester returned a moment later, and Pyke used his thumb to unlock his phone.

  “Sheriff Copache? This is Nester. There was a shootout at Pyke’s house. Intruders. One guy dead. I need you here right away. Oh, and Pyke is gonna be a bear, so don’t bring anyone who isn’t supposed to see that.”

  Could Pyke have asked for a better mate? He was proud that Nester knew to warn Grayson, though the guys on the police force were either nonhuman or knew about them.

  “Okay, I did what you asked,” Nester set Pyke’s phone aside. “Now you do as I asked. Shift, Pyke. There’s so much blood.”

  Tears welled in Nester’s eyes, and as much as Pyke wanted to reassure him, his energy was slipping. He closed his eyes but not before grabbing Nester’s hand.

  “Don’t go anywhere. Do you understand me? And ask Grayson to have someone here while I heal.”

  There was more Pyke wanted to say, but he slipped into darkness.

  * * * *

  Nester knew this was all his fault. He’d brought trouble to Pyke’s doorstep, and now his mate was shot…twice. Nester backed away when Pyke’s bear emerged but was still worried by the bear’s labored breathing.

  What if shifting didn’t fix him? What if Pyke died? Nester jumped to his feet and paced in front of the window, for once praying the cops got there quickly.

  Oh hell. What if the sheriff decided to throw the book at him? Nester had already been cleared of one murder, and now he had another one on his hands.

  None of that mattered to him as he looked over his shoulder and stared at the large bear. He walked over to him, lowering himself as he tucked his legs beneath him. Pyke’s fur looked so soft that Nester had to touch it, to caress him, and to also make sure he was breathing.

  Relief overwhelmed Nester when he felt the rise and fall of the bear’s chest, moving up and down as his breath came out fast and low. Was that normal? Nester had no idea, but now he didn’t want to leave his mate’s side, worried something might go wrong.

  The fur was soft as Nester glided his hand through it. Pyke’s bear was humungous. Nester felt like a snack next to him, like Pyke would wake up and gobble him whole just for being a shit and bringing this chaos to his doorstep.

  “I’m so sorry,” Nester whispered as hot tears stung his eyes. “I never meant for this to happen to you.”

  His throat grew tight, and he felt like he’d lose it if Pyke didn’t pull through. Pyke was a good man, a decent guy, far more than Nester deserved, and he prayed his mate forgave him.

  Now Nester wished his dad was still alive, because he needed so desperately to talk to him, to have his dad help him figure all this out. Nester was still puzzled about his mother talking to Dublin in the gas station, and he wanted answers, but they would have to wait.

  Right now Nester wanted Pyke to get better and for the dead guy to be removed. He felt the intruder at his back, as if the guy would rise at any moment and make him pay for killing him.

  It messed with the mind, knowing there was a dead body not ten feet away, and Nester was too afraid to look, too afraid to see his handiwork, because he feared what he’d become.

  Like killing had become way too easy for him now.

  His thoughts were interrupted when the doorbell rang. Nester wiped at his eyes, and gave the bear a hug before getting to his feet, walking to the door as if he were walking to his doom.

  At the last second, Nester decided to look out the window. It was Sheriff Copache in his brown uniform, looking official as he stood there waiting for Nester to answer.

  And Nester did. He opened the door, but said nothing about the body. There was only one thing on his mind. “Please tell me Pyke will live.”

  Then the floodgates opened, and Nester burst out crying.

  Chapter Nine

  “Two shots to the torso,” Sheriff Grayson said into his shoulder mic. “One perp down and the other fled the scene.”

  “He had an eyepatch.” Nester touched his right eye, ignoring the wetness from his tears. “If that helps.”

  The sheriff gave him a warm, pleasant smile. “Every little detail helps, son.” He repeated what Nester said into his mic.

  “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but could we get the dead body out of here? I’m already freaked out enough without having to look at what I’ve done.”

  “Coroner is on his way,” the sheriff said. “And some of my men are en route. We’re going to keep an eye on things until Pyke recovers.”

  Nester looked over his shoulder at his sleeping bear. Pyke’s breathing had finally evened out, and the sheriff had reassured him that Pyke would recover, regardless of Nester’s fears.

  “We need to get the perp’s fingerprints,” Sheriff Copache went on, as Nester’s gaze kept sweeping toward the dead body. “We need to see if he’s in the system, and if he is, we can identify him. Hopefully that ties him to Dublin McLeay, helping to hammer another nail in the son of a bitch’s coffin.”

  Nester only half heard what Copache was saying. His gaze bounced between the hefty man and the bear. He still couldn’t believe he’d jumped into action, no thought to his own safety. All he knew was that Pyke was in trouble, and if Nester hadn’t risked his own life, his mate would have been killed.

  Still, Nester had taken yet another life.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” Copache touched Nester’s shoulder. “You not only look tired but like you’re going to fall over at any second.”

  “I-I haven�
�t had much sleep lately.” When was the last time Nester had slept? When was the last time he’d eaten? He couldn’t honestly remember. But Nester wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew Pyke was back on his feet, one hundred percent whole again.

  Nester sat, then the sheriff brought him a glass of water. With a shaky hand, Nester accepted it and took a tiny sip.

  The sheriff hunkered down in front of him. “Have you been able to get ahold of your mom?”

  “No, but I left her a voice mail.” Nester pulled his cell phone from his pocket and checked it, though he knew she hadn’t called him back. He took another sip of water and then set the glass aside before calling her.

  Still no answer.

  “We’ll figure this out.” Copache answered the door when a knock sounded on it.

  To Nester’s surprise, the waiter at the diner walked in.

  “What’re you doing here?” Did the guy do police work in his spare time? Why would he show up at Pyke’s?

  “Nester, this is my mate, John Zitelli, but everyone calls him Moose. He’s a bear shifter, like your mate.”

  “I dabble in detective work.” Moose grinned. “But my real talent is putting away food.” He patted his rigid abdomen. “I can eat you out of house and home and still be hungry.”

  Nester knew Moose was trying to lighten the mood, and he could just imagine the guy eating a ton of carbs. He was that big. “How tall are you?”

  Moose chuckled. “Six foot nine, but I’m still a growing boy.”

  Nester wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. “I’m not sure what kind of detecting you can do. They guys broke in, tried to kill us, and I took one of them down first. The guy with the eye patch got away. You should be out looking for him instead of trying to figure out what happened here.”

  “Son, we’re doing our jobs,” Copache said. “The only thing I want you to think about is Pyke.”

  Nester got up and curled his hand around his phone. “That’s easy for you to say. My mate is a bear healing from gunshot wounds that should have been fatal, and I have an Irish criminal after me because of my asshole ex-boyfriend.”

  He vibrated with rage as he stood there toe to toe with the sheriff—a guy who towered over him and was thick with muscles. Nester didn’t give a damn. He wanted Dublin caught and for Pyke to wake up. The sheriff telling him that he didn’t have to worry about the trouble on his heels pissed him off.

  “Hey now,” Moose said. “Yell at me, not my mate.”

  Copache held up a hand. “I can handle it. He’s just worried.”

  Soon Dr. Bjord was there, along with his assistant, bagging the body and taking it away, but not before a deputy got the dead guy’s fingerprints.

  “I’ll run these through the system,” Deputy Roy Benton said. He gave Nester a smile and a nod and then squeezed his arm. “It’ll be okay. You’ve got the best working on this.”

  As angry as Nester was, he couldn’t be mean to Roy. The guy was just too dang nice. “Thanks.”

  The house emptied of the newcomers, and it was just Copache and Moose again. Nester sat and drank half the glass of water, feeling the exhaustion finally kick in.

  He lay down on the couch, tucked his legs close, and fought to keep his eyes open. It was a battle, but he wanted to be awake when Pyke woke up.

  Nester lost that battle and soon fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Pyke woke to the smell of bacon, the scent making his stomach rumble. He was sore but no worse for wear. Then he thought about Nester and jackknifed in bed.

  Bed? How had he gotten there? There was no way Nester had carried his bear. His mate just didn’t have the strength. Pyke tossed the covers back and dressed before he made his way down the hallway, hearing voices as he approached the kitchen.

  “How much longer will he be out?” Nester asked as Pyke heard dishes clacking.

  Now he could smell pancakes and eggs. His stomach rumbled even louder as he stood just outside the kitchen entryway, just out of sight.

  “Every shifter is different.”

  Wait, was that Moose? Pyke recognized his voice and wondered what Moose was doing there.

  “He took two bullets, and that takes time to repair,” Moose continued. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate how much you worried about him, even to the point you yelled at the sheriff.”

  Moose had to know Pyke was in the hallway. He probably smelled Pyke as soon as he stepped from his bedroom.

  “I’m not looking for brownie points,” Nester said. “I genuinely care about Pyke, and why am I telling you this?”

  “You got anyone to talk to?” Moose asked.

  “Not really.”

  “Then that’s why,” Moose said. “Humans, and nonhumans, are social creatures. We need to interact with each other. We’re looking for validation and someone to connect with. Show me anyone going it alone and I’ll show you someone who’s miserable, though they might not admit it.”

  Moose was right. Pyke had been living his life, but he’d been lonely as fuck, even when he’d been dating Payton.

  “I have Pyke,” Nester argued.

  “We also need friends,” Moose argued right back. “I don’t tell Grayson everything, and you won’t tell Pyke everything, either. That’s what friends are for, and if you’ll allow me, I’ll be your friend. I could always use more.”

  Nester chuckled, the sound going straight to Pyke’s heart. Nester had risked his own life to save him, and Pyke would forever be in the guy’s debt. He was still shocked that Nester had come out firing, uncaring that Eyepatch had a weapon of his own.

  Nester just kept giving Pyke reasons to be proud of his mate.

  “Just as long as you don’t eat everything in the house,” Nester teased.

  “I can’t promise that,” Moose replied. “But now it’s official. We’re friends, so we’ll exchange phone numbers and call each other late at night when our men are getting on our last nerve. I’m one hell of a gossip, too.”

  “I like you, Moose,” Nester said. “And why are you setting a third plate? Is your mate coming over for breakfast?”

  “No, he’s setting it because I’m joining you.” Pyke entered the kitchen and barely had time to brace himself before Nester launched himself into his arms.

  He held Nester close, inhaling his scent, glad his mate was okay. Pyke looked over at Moose who was grabbing glasses from the cupboard. “Thanks for looking out for my mate while I was unconscious.”

  “We’re best buddies.” Moose winked. “Anytime Nester needs me, all he has to do is call me.”

  “How do you feel?” Nester asked when he pulled back. “Are you healed?”

  Pyke released his mate and lifted his shirt. “No scars. I’m all good.”

  Nester ran the tips of his fingers over Pyke’s chest, sending goose bumps all over Pyke’s body. He was instantly hard as he took a seat at the table.

  As badly as he wanted Nester, Pyke knew he needed to eat first. Hs body had used a lot of energy in the healing process, and Pyke needed to replace it.

  “We’ve prepared a masterpiece for you.” Moose brought over the cast-iron skillet and scooped scrambled eggs onto Pyke’s plate.

  Nester got up and returned with the platter of pancakes and bacon.

  “I’d leave and let you two have the time you need together, but I slaved over the stove and I’m going to eat my prize before I go.” Moose stacked six pancakes onto his plate, and for a moment, Pyke thought he would hog all the bacon, too.

  “God forbid you miss a meal,” Pyke teased as he felt Nester’s gaze on him.

  “I’d wither away and die.” Moose shoved a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. “And you know you’d miss me,” he said while chewing.

  “Your mate must have a huge house.” Nester smiled. “He’d need to have one to accommodate your ego.”

  “Nah.” Moose pointed his fork at Nester. “I’m actually quite sweet.”

  “For an ex-mercenary,” Pyke said.

  Nester
’s brows shot up.

  “Correction. I used to work for Lacross Omega Security. I wasn’t a mercenary. I was a specialist. I quit when I found my mate and started working at the diner when Grayson wouldn’t hire me as a deputy.”

  “Why wouldn’t he hire you?” Nester asked.

  “I think he didn’t want us working and living together. Couples need time apart to miss each other.”

  “That doesn’t stop you from getting nosy in police cases.” Pyke rolled his eyes at the soft, fluffy eggs. Fuck, they were even better than his.

  “It’s a side hobby.” Moose polished off his food and stacked more pancakes onto his plate. He looked between Pyke and Nester. “Are you guys gonna eat any more of that bacon?”

  Nester smiled. “Help yourself.”

  Pyke was a bear shifter, but he didn’t eat anywhere near as much as Moose did. He was surprised the guy didn’t weight five hundred pounds. But Moose was solidly built, not an ounce of fat on him.

  “Welp.” Moose patted his stomach after he finished his second plate. “Now that you’re awake, I can head out. Deputy Christopher is sitting in a patrol car just outside the house if trouble arises.”

  Moose took his plate to the sink and washed it, along with his glass and utensils, setting them in the drying rack. “I cooked, so you guys have to wash the pans I used.”

  “Fair enough.” Pyke nodded.

  As soon as Moose left, Nester curled onto Pyke’s lap. He held his arms out and waited for his mate to settle before curling his arms around Nester.

  “I was so worried about you.” Nester rested his head against Pyke’s chest. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  “It’s not like I did it on purpose, sweetheart. They got the drop on me, and if I remember correctly, you got the drop on them.”

  Nester groaned. “Don’t remind me. I’m turning into a bona fide killer, Pyke, and I don’t like that. It actually makes me sick just thinking about what I did.”

  Pyke tightened his arms around Nester. “That’s the difference between you and the bad guys. You have a conscience and life matters to you, even if that life belongs to criminals.” He kissed the top of Nester’s head as he rubbed his mate’s back. “For the record, thank you for saving my life.”