“Dru”—the low voice held a warning tone—“he’s helping.”
A moment of silence on the woman’s end. Dylan grinned, imagining her wrangling her temper back into control.
“All right. So just understand, he’s our brother.”
“Understood.” Beside him Travis twisted restlessly. He could probably hear both sides of the conversation. “He’s safe with me. I’ve given our location to your brother. You can come pick him up as soon as the roads are cleared.”
“Thank you.” She sounded a bit misty. “Back to his care. He needs fluids. Water. Juice. In the morning, go easy on breakfast. It should pass by then.”
The line went silent except for the sound of the two shifters breathing. They had more to ask.
“Did he—”
“Was he—”
“They tried. There were two men. I interrupted them before it went too far. I…convinced a young man named David to go into the bar and wait for the police. The other ran. His name is Scott James. If you wish, I have the plate numbers to his truck.”
“Thank you. For everything.” The man’s voice sounded a bit harsh; some people sounded angry when they were upset. “Tell Travis I’ll call his mother and let her know he’s safe. We’ll tell her more when he’s home.”
Dylan glanced down and saw the grateful expression on Travis’s face. “He appreciates the gesture.” Another round of reassurances and gratitude was expressed, and then Dylan ended the call. He set the phone next to the bed.
“Well, Travis, I believe your family is rather worried about you.”
“Those were just…brother and sis.” His voice barely rose above a whisper. “Wait’ll alpha…Father gets home.” He started to rise, then slumped back against the pillow. Dylan retrieved a bottle of water from the little refrigerator, opened it, then held it to his patient’s parched lips.
“Dane’s gonna kick my ass.”
“You seem better.” A human would still be dead to the world.
“Still fucked up.” He looked away from Dylan. “Gotta piss.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. “Ah, the joy of bodily functions. Now just so you know, I’m not the one who stripped off your bottoms. Do you want…?”
“Never mind.” Travis forced himself upright again, fumbling with the leather jacket he still wore. “Too hot for clothes.” He winked lewdly at Dylan. “More ways than one.”
“Lovely. I’m glad to see your self-esteem is intact.” Dylan helped the shifter to his feet and guided him to the bathroom. “You should sit.”
“I’ll stand.” Travis swayed alarmingly, so Dylan held him, supporting him from behind. He glanced at Dylan over his shoulder. “God, you’re such a romantic.”
“And you’re an easy target.”
“Want to hold it while I piss?” He grinned and looked away.
“Cock-tease.” Dylan suppressed a smile.
“Perv.”
Travis fumbled at the toilet and flushed, then staggered to the sink. He washed his hands, then gazed at himself in the mirror and winced.
“Oh, wonderful. Just beautiful.”
He scooped water to his face, alternately drinking and soaking himself. He headed back to the bed, shaking off Dylan’s assistance. Once he hit the mattress, he stripped off the wet T-shirt and let it drop to the floor. Dylan scooped it up and draped it over the table to dry. Travis crawled into bed, buck naked and ridiculously appealing. He was completely without modesty. He curled up on his side and pulled only the sheet over his hips.
“So did you hear what your sister said? You might hallucinate as well as run a fever.”
“Yeah. I figured it couldn’t be real when I saw you glowing different colors earlier.”
Dylan went still. Being outed wouldn’t be a catastrophe, not among these people. But it would complicate his life.
“I was glowing? In color?” He grinned and shook his head.
“The alligators slithering out of your pockets were the kicker.” He looked disturbed. “I was afraid to look at my skin. Didn’t want to see bugs crawling on me or any of that shit.” He shuddered, which sent him into a case of the chills. He pulled up the blanket and wrapped it around his body.
“What can I do to make it better?”
The look Travis gave him was haunted. “Just tell me it didn’t happen.”
“They didn’t rape you, Travis.” He sat in the chair and hesitantly reached over to take the young man’s hand. Travis clenched his jaw and nodded. He stared down at their clasped hands, and Dylan wondered if his aversion to touch was that obvious. He calmed himself, shivering at the blissful sensation of warmth and roughened skin against his. He ignored the loneliness that welled up…the bittersweet memories of another life.
“When I start seeing shit again, just keep telling me it’s not real.” He gripped Dylan’s hand tightly. “Just keep telling me what’s real, and I’ll believe you.”
“I’ll do that, lad.” He let loose of the kid’s hand. The touch, the connection was too much. Even during sex Dylan avoided touch. He’d pick a partner, do it, and leave. Tonight, though, even if he wanted to leave, he couldn’t.
He got up and looked out the window. The snow was nearing whiteout stage; the parking lot vanished as the snow piled higher. He mentally inventoried his food; they were good through the next day, if necessary.
A small moan broke the silence, and he turned. Travis was tossing on the bed, his eyes tracking invisible movement in the air above him. Dylan returned to the chair and took the shifter’s hand again.
“Listen to me, Travis. Are you listening?” Whatever he was seeing had Travis wrapped in panic. He wasn’t listening. “Travis. You will listen to me now.” He pitched his voice low and quiet, demanding obedience. It worked. “Travis, you are hallucinating. You are in a bed in a room. I am sitting next to you. There is nothing in the air and nothing on the walls.”
“But…I see…”
“I know. But it isn’t real.” He scooted the chair closer and linked their fingers. The sensation overwhelmed him, made his heart ache. “You don’t need to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen.”
Chapter 5
“Jesus Christ!”
Travis shot upright in the bed, eyes wide in terror. His rational mind told him there couldn’t possibly be a snaggletoothed Studebaker on the ceiling, but there it was, heading straight for the bed. He leaped—and ended up tangling himself in the covers, then rolling onto the floor.
“Hey now, easy there.” The voice was low, soothing, and somehow he knew the owner of it would make everything all right. Strong hands wrapped around his wrists and held him in place.
Dylan. It’s Dylan.
The pressure and immobility drained the panic from his overwrought brain, and immediately his heart slowed and his breathing steadied. He glanced at the ceiling, and the car was gone.
“Better?”
Travis nodded, and Dylan let his hands loose. He slowly climbed back onto the bed, shaky and now as cold as ice. To his shame he hadn’t been this frightened since he was a kid. He trembled; his sweat smelled like fear, like a victim’s.
Dylan pulled the covers up over him and sat down in the stiff armchair. He looked tired. He still looked damn good.
“You’re cold.”
Travis realized his teeth were chattering. “K wreaks havoc with us. I mean…” Oh hell. He should just shut up before he confessed everything to a virtual stranger. “Don’t turn up the heat. I’ll probably fever soon.”
“What can I do to help?”
He choked on a laugh. Strip naked and crawl under the covers with me. Hold me so I can’t move.
“You want me to do that?” Dylan arched a dark brow.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, you did.” Dylan smiled, and it was a genuine smile, no hidden meaning behind it. He looked young and happy. He looked magical. As Travis watched, he stood and stripped from his shirt and trousers but left his underwear on. He folded the clothes ca
refully before lifting a corner of the cover and sliding into the bed. He was big and warm, and when he wrapped his arms around Travis, he felt surprisingly strong.
“Travis, I know you aren’t human.”
The words were so unexpected, he almost missed them.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I have secrets of my own.”
Did he have an erection back there? Travis contemplated throwing a fit but was too tired to make the effort. Too tired to keep up the lie. Dylan’s stiffy was pressed up against his ass, and not only did Travis not care; he had a pretty good hard-on himself. Not that he was in any shape to assuage his curiosity. Not at the moment.
“Secrets…like…why I was seeing you in Technicolor?”
“I imagine the combination of your…species and the drug allowed you to see my aura for a few minutes. Some people have that gift. It might be something you can investigate later.”
“Or it might be that you’re a lot less human than you pretend to be.” The shared body heat and a big hand resting low on his belly kept him from digging into the puzzle as he normally would. He was too distracted by skin and warmth and the odd, calm connection he felt with Dylan. But in the end, he couldn’t let it go.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Dylan went still and then chuckled. “I already know you’re a shifter. What sort is still the mystery.”
“Wolf.” Travis stared in rapture at the multicolored sparkles floating past his vision. He held out his hand and watched as the lights scattered at his touch. This was much better than snarling cars. “My dad is the big bad wolf, and my brother is the heir apparent. That was him on the phone.”
Good God, what was happening to his mouth? He couldn’t turn it off! Travis bit his tongue, grinning at the idea of what he must look like with that appendage wedged between his teeth.
“How’d he know you were in trouble? The woman seemed to know as well.”
“Sister. And the stronger the wolf, the more tied in they are to the pack. The alpha would have found me by the time I passed out.”
“Impressive.”
“Your turn.” He angled his head slightly, trying to look back at Dylan.
“I didn’t agree to your proposal, Travis.”
He sighed. “Is that your way of admitting you aren’t human?”
“I’m not admitting anything.”
His accent was a bit more pronounced, and in the darkness it was slow and sexy. Travis twisted from his arms and turned to face him. “Come on. I just put everything on the line!” They lay side by side, facing each other, and the tone of the conversation changed. Dylan’s eyes went hooded, and he gazed directly at Travis, making his skin prickle with heat. Suddenly Travis was hot—too hot. He shoved his feet out from under the covers. The air in the room was frigid, and it felt wonderful on his bare skin.
“I might tell you, but you have to pay a fee.” He continued to gaze at Travis, looking at his mouth, then up into his eyes. “I might tell you for a kiss.”
“You might, eh?” Dylan’s smile was wicked, and Travis couldn’t help but smile back. “That doesn’t sound like much of a guarantee.”
“Well, it’ll depend on how good the kiss is.”
“You know I don’t do guys.”
“I know that’s what you say.”
At that, Travis went silent. He rolled to his back and blinked at the new hallucination: flowers were growing, blossoming up the walls and across the ceiling. Hell, Dylan had him pegged.
“Dylan, it’s not easy being a man in my position. I’m the son of an alpha. I’m expected to be stronger. Everyone hopes I’ll be weaker. As it is, I fight all the time. Doesn’t seem like a week goes by when some kid doesn’t try to cut his teeth on me or a tougher wolf decides to take me down.
“And you think liking men makes you weaker? Less of a man?” Dylan put a hand up behind his head. In the dim light, his arm was pale and muscular.
“I’m not gay. But my brother is. Other than my dad, he’s the strongest wolf I’ve ever met. And he kept it hidden all his life. Me, it’s like I’ve got a target on my back. I’m smaller, and my mother, she’s the pack omega. I don’t look that much like my dad. I look like her.”
“Then she must be beautiful.”
Travis blushed.
“Looks aren’t the point; perception is. My packmates see me as an obstacle to climb over or an omega to put into his place. Being gay isn’t a liability for Lukas, but if he wasn’t such a big, powerful motherfucker, he could have been run out of the pack—or even killed. They’ve got no choice but to accept him.”
“One would think his precedent would make things easier for other pack members.”
Travis shrugged one shoulder. “One of my dad’s betas is out, but again, no one’s gonna mess with her.” Well, except Travis. He winced, remembering her attack on his mother. “For most of the pack, no one’s gonna give them grief regardless of who they screw around with, as long as it’s casual. Things are different for me. I gotta watch every step every day. So I take my shit out of town.”
“You say you don’t do men, but you’re certainly a cock-tease. And you’re more than a little tempted by my offer.”
The floor began to gently undulate, and Travis gasped. Snakes rose and writhed in the air. He pushed up onto his arm and watched as they climbed up the foot of the bed. A firm hand clasped his chin. “Travis, whatever you’re seeing is not real.”
He held his breath, nodding. Not real. Dylan said it’s not real.
“They can’t hurt you. Think of something peaceful.”
Peaceful. The snakes melted away, leaving behind thick vines that wound up to the ceiling, creating a bower around the bed. Flowers and vines. He watched a hummingbird dart from blossom to blossom. The breeze from its beating wings wafted against his overheated skin.
Dylan’s hand was still on his chin. He turned to look at the pale hair, the deep green eyes. Oddly he could see their color in the darkness. Following the urging of that hand, he moved closer, letting his eyes drop closed. Their lips met, brushed, and parted. It felt good…nice.
“Never kissed a man before.” Travis leaned forward without opening his eyes and pressed into a firmer kiss. When he parted his lips, Dylan slipped his tongue into his mouth and teased him softly. The stranger tasted of pine and cool water. Intrigued, Travis pursued the kiss and gently probed the other man’s mouth. When he withdrew, he nipped Dylan’s lips and then his chin. He lay back, still not opening his eyes.
“Okay, so I’m bi, not gay.”
Dylan laughed lightly. “So hung up on labels. You’ve adopted the human habit of trying to neatly define and order that which should simply…be. You like men.”
“I like women too. Older, younger, wolf, human, vamp. Guess maybe I’m pansexual. Or just oversexed.” He looked up at the ceiling of the crummy little motel room, bemused by the scent of the imaginary blossoms masking its drab walls.
“You’re young. And your erection is pitching a tent in the bed.”
He inhaled, savoring the rich fragrance of Dylan’s arousal. “Yours is running a flag up the pole.”
They laughed for a moment, and Travis blinked as the vision faded away. He was a bit disappointed that the indoor garden had vanished. His body was weary, his mind fatigued.
“So you gonna tell me?” He looked over at Dylan, who was still observing him, an intense expression on his face.
“I’m old, Travis. Older than this town, older than most cities. I’m old, and I’m lost. I’m afraid and alone. I’m powerful, and yet I’m shamefully weak.”
“Fae?”
Dylan didn’t answer. Instead he rolled to his side and pulled the covers over Travis’s shoulders. “You are tired. The drug is still working at your body, but I think the worst has passed. Now it’s time for you to rest.”
“But—”
“Rest, Travis.”
That compelling voice again, ordering him around. He should get pissy; he d
id every time anyone else tried to tell him what to do. But when Dylan commanded, his will grew dangerously weak. He huddled down into the covers, his eyes heavy.
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t.”
Strange that Dylan’s voice came from behind him instead of from the bed. He reached out, pulled the extra pillow close to his body, and succumbed to sleep.
EVEN FULLY DRESSED and with his coat on, the room was cold. The chair hadn’t been comfortable to start with, but after an hour, his ass felt like a block of wood. Dylan stretched, letting himself retreat from the dream. Or hallucination. Whatever it was. Travis had a vivid imagination, building and manipulating the elements of his drug-enhanced visions. He’d nearly taken a few bad turns, what with snakes and such, but managed to restructure his own altered state. That was a skill few people possessed. The young man was a problem solver and possibly a creative genius. This bright flame was living in a small town, keeping himself entertained by instigating bar fights. What a waste.
Dylan rose and paced a bit, loosening his tight muscles, ignoring his lingering erection. That kiss! He pushed the memory aside and focused on work. The information he got from Travis was interesting, intriguing, but not really helpful for getting him into Arcada. And yet there’d been images…faces and names, people beyond the pack that made up the young wolf’s sphere of existence. There were so many…elderly and infirm, people the pack sheltered under their collective wing. And there were others…friends and townspeople. Travis might be on the fringes of his pack, but he lived a rich life, committing a surprising amount of time to service.
Dylan glanced at the young man on the bed. He slept now, his lids betraying the flicker that told Dylan dreams were now settling in. He could dream hunt again, though it might not be such a good idea. Eventually he’d make a misstep and alert Travis to his presence. But he could observe instead of interact, just to see what was on Travis’s busy mind. With a sigh Dylan settled back in the chair and looked longingly at the bed. The temperature in this room was unpredictable at best. He’d set the thermostat at a tolerable level, but the heat wasn’t coming on often enough to maintain it. He shivered, rose, and went to the closet to pull down a spare blanket and pillow. He returned to the chair, where he wrapped up, and looked at the floor in consideration.
Silver-Steel Page 5
