by Julia Talbot
“Dark. Great. That’s anywhere. Dammit.”
“No, there was…. We need to keep north.”
“North.” Tyrone nodded. “I’m on it.”
“I know.” Now he was the one who worried he was going to barf.
“We’ll find him. He has a connection to you now. That takes more sedative.”
“Good.” Jaxon closed his eyes. In through his nose, out through his mouth. Come on, mate. Reach for me. Reach out.
Jax… help.
Bingo. I am. I’m coming. I swear. I need your help. Where are you?
It’s cold. Dark. Hard. Concrete, not dirt.
What do you smell? Drugged or no, their strongest wolf sense was scent.
Gasoline. Grass. Old grass.
Gasoline. Old grass. What the hell? Talk to me, babe. Anything will help.
There’s wind, a rattle. It’s cold.
“Industrial area, maybe. He smells gas and old grass, he says.”
“Or a shed. That may be why they keep him drugged. He could bust out of a shed.”
“He could. But where?” Jaxon swallowed hard, scanning the side of the road. Would he be a homing device for his lover now?
“There’s an industrial area. You have any idea how big the place is? At all?”
Does it echo inside the building?
He swore he could hear a soft bark. Echoes.
“It’s big enough to echo. That means a high ceiling too.”
“Industrial. Tractors?” Tyrone was trying to help.
“Gas and old grass. Maybe. Maybe a hay storage?”
Alan shook his head. “He’s allergic to hay. He would be hysterical.”
“Seriously?” Wolfy allergies? Whoa.
“Yep. I mean, he would be sneezing.”
“Lawn mower repair?” Ty said.
“Maybe.” That actually made a weird kind of sense. “Let me see what we got.” Jaxon tugged out his phone.
“Landscapers, maybe. I can see someone that’s hibernating storing shit for the winter.” Alan was a smart puppy.
“That’s a good one,” Ty agreed.
Jaxon’s fingers flew. “Garden supply. Feed store. Wait! Stone Lion Landscapers….”
“Oh? That’s got promise….”
“Exit in two exits, Ty.” He could feel it; this was the right one.
Coming for you, Sebastian.
Sebastian’s thoughts were fuzzy, soft, dazed. Jaxon thought there was an affirmative in there, but the drugs were doing their thing.
He was going to rip someone’s head off and shit down their neck. Then he would dance on the severed head. Maybe let Alan use it to play soccer.
Oh, that was a pleasant fucking thought.
“There!” He pointed at a cluster of industrial buildings, his heart beginning to race.
Tyrone took the corner like a bat out of hell, slush spraying as the tires squealed. Alan grunted, but he was bracing to jump out of the car, just like Jaxon was.
The paint job on the car was beat to hell when they hit the gate, but there was no way the chain was holding at their speed. The whole thing crumpled in, and they shot into the dock area, then rocked to a stop, Tyrone bellowing.
“I can smell him!” Jaxon bolted out of the vehicle, his need to find his mate overwhelming.
“Jaxon! What if it’s a trap?” Alan rushed out behind him, hand brushing his shirt, fingers missing a grip.
He had to take the chance. He had no choice.
Jaxon skidded to a stop at the big bay doors, staring at the lock and chain. Okay. He had a firearm, and that would work. Tyrone came up, another deep bellow escaping his chest. Those huge hands grabbed at the chains and yanked.
The chain gave way, and Jaxon took maybe a second to admire the strength that took before ducking between the doors as they swung open. Gun drawn, he checked his danger areas before moving on.
The place was filled with tools, equipment, oil, and grease. Not a place for his fastidious wolf.
He glanced around, his shoulders slumping when he realized he could see the whole damn place. Sebastian wasn’t there.
“Where is he?” Alan’s eyes were wild.
“I don’t know. He was here. Just here. I can smell him.”
Alan growled, eyes flashing gold. “So can I.”
“I’ll search. You two use your damn noses.” Tyrone began turning things over, making these wild sounds.
Jaxon moved, knowing Sebastian was gone and they were just looking for clues now. Mate? Where?
The scent was fresh enough to burn his nostrils—cat and wolf and the fearful smell of marmot. Marmot. That must be the lawn guy….
“Find that marmot!”
Alan’s eyes flashed gold, then he was moving, fuzzy and feral, nose to the ground. Hopefully the owner was still alive and could tell them where they’d taken Alan.
Jaxon followed Alan, trusting in the wolf’s nose to lead them.
Alan led the way to a door almost hidden by a big sheet of corrugated metal. The office. He pushed it open, and a small, round man came into view, lying on the floor.
“Dammit!” He rushed the guy, heading to shake him, see if he was awake.
He was tied and gagged. Oh crap. Jaxon gently eased the cloth out of his mouth. “Where did they take him? When did they leave?”
“Just. They broke in around noon, locked me back here.”
“Did you hear where they were headed?” He worked at the knots on the guy’s wrists.
“They were trying to figure out why the drugs stopped working.”
“So this was just a pit stop?” Jaxon helped the guy sit up. “Do you have someone we can call?”
“They seemed like they were trying to scare someone. They kept putting him under, huh? You can’t get information from someone that’s under.”
“Yeah.” That was both good and bad. “Ty, help him up, see what else he knows?” Jaxon moved on, looking for any other clues. “When you say ‘they,’ how many?”
“Four. Four cats—three bobs and a mountain lion.”
Bobcats? With a cougar? How frickin’ weird. He sniffed hard, his inner foxtail twitching. “Are you sure? They aren’t social.”
“I’m sure. I thought they were going to eat me.”
Yeah, that made things pretty damn sure, didn’t it? All those teeth.
A sharp bark from Alan drew him over, and there was a syringe on the floor. He snagged it up. They might need it to figure out what they were dosing Sebastian with.
Alan nodded, his ears twitching.
Jaxon resisted the urge to call him Good boy.
“Anything else, man? Anything you can find?” Anything at all?
Alan put his nose to the floor again, and it only took about ten seconds for him to set up a howl. Jaxon found a scrap of cloth, something torn away from a shirt, maybe. Not from Sebastian or the marmot.
“Fucking-A.” There was blood on the scrap, and it didn’t smell like his mate. Sebastian was fighting back.
He grinned. Drugs could be tricky. What worked for a cat would metabolize differently for a wolf. Very. And he was sending his mate all he had.
Everything he could spare.
Alan came to him and nudged his leg.
“Yeah. We have to get moving.” He didn’t know where, but they had to figure this shit out. He would find a place to FedEx the blood sample and the syringe to someone who could process them. He knew some people. A raven shifter named Horace in Cali….
“Dammit! Sebastian! Where are you?” Jaxon slammed his hand against the wall. He needed to find his mate, and he needed to do it soon.
This was all too damn much to take in.
Chapter Twelve
SEBASTIAN FELT a buzz in the back of his head, and he wasn’t sure if it was a motor or a hum or Jaxon.
He was hoping for Jaxon.
Just in time, he remembered not to open his eyes. No stiffening up, no tells that he was awake.
Okay. Okay. He was… he was fairly sure he
was moving. So that meant a car.
He thought about Jaxon, about the dark red hair and bright green eyes.
The response was immediate. Mate?
Jaxon. Yes. Yes, that was what he needed.
I found where they stopped. Are you still moving?
Yes. Moving. I’m not in a trunk, though, so SUV.
Okay. What can you hear? Jaxon was so calm. So smart.
He made himself relax and focus, but they were going fast and he couldn’t sense anything. No bumps.
Okay. Can you smell?
Cats. They smell like sickness.
He could hear Jaxon’s racing thoughts. Where the hell are they taking you?
I don’t know. They’re not talking. I can smell them. He was scared to try and see. If they saw him awake, they would drug him again. Wait…. I smell rain.
Rain?
Yes. Rain. It’s raining.
Excellent. Perfect. You’re fucking brilliant.
If he’d been brilliant, he wouldn’t have been trapped.
Stop it. Save your energy for the stunning rescue I’m about to mount. Jaxon was laughing at him.
I will beat you. Maybe. Tomorrow.
Promises promises. Keep your head down. We’re coming.
You’d better.
He didn’t want to be knocked out again.
I am. I think I know where you are. We just have to catch you. Now that mental voice was full of determination.
I’ll bite them. Hard. You be careful. You are only little.
I have an elk and a wolf with me.
He let one eye crack open, praying no one was looking, needing to see the animals that wanted to kill. All he could see was vague shapes. Three of them.
There had been four, hadn’t there?
He squinted, trying to remember. Surely he knew that.
Maybe not. Maybe there’d just been three.
He resisted the urge to shake his head and clear his mind. No movement that would trigger more action.
Besides, if he moved his head, he might fucking explode. He couldn’t tell right now if he was fuzzy or not, to be honest. He probably was; he healed better in animal form, and his body did it automatically.
“We gotta stop, man. I need to pee, and we need food.” The voice jolted him, and he managed not to move, but he was vibrating, hoping for a clue.
“You always need food. We’ve been on the road, what? An hour?”
“Do you have prostate issues, man?”
“Fuck both of you. We didn’t eat or piss on our last stop.” The guy who’d started it all snarled the words. “I want a Coke and a Slim Jim. We’re a long way from bum fuck Wyoming.”
Wyoming. We’re heading to Wyoming.
Is it still raining? Or have you run out of it?
Sebastian strained his ears and nose. Just drizzling now.
Good. That’s good. We’re gaining on you.
Oh, that suited him. I’m fucked-up. It’s hard to move.
Just stay put. No heroics. They’ll drug you again.
The car began to slow, and he felt the right drift that told him they were getting off the highway.
They’re stopping. They’re stopping, mate. A dull panic filled him, the wolf rushing to the fore. He had to get out. He could take a bobcat. He could and then he could run.
No. No, you’re not well, babe. Please. I’m so close.
A growl began to build inside him, a deep vibration as he waited for the car to stop. He couldn’t just sit and wait. He flexed his muscles, testing his readiness. They’d leave him with a guard, he had no doubt, but one was fair game. As long as they didn’t leave him with the mountain lion. That was… wrong. Sick. Dangerous.
Insane.
The smell made him want to sneeze.
The car stopped, and he could feel the scrutiny from the group of cats. Sebastian kept his breathing slow and even, daring his heart to beat faster.
Shh. Shh, now. You’re asleep. You’re deep.
“He’s still out. Wylie, you got this?”
Score. The voice was the big cat’s, so he had to be going in.
“Sure, boss. No problem. Bring me a bag of pork rinds?”
“Ugh.”
“I’ll get them, Wye.” The car doors opened and closed, and he cracked one eye a slit, trying to see anything.
The cat was playing on his phone, back to him, the light highlighting his face. He rolled over, careful to move slow and sure. This had to come as a complete surprise. He eyed the door opening mechanism. Yep. SUV.
He attacked with a single leap, pounding the cat’s head against the car window with a flurry of hard beats before hamstringing the beast and hitting the back door, using the remainder of his energy to streak across the parking lot and into the darkness.
Sebastian stopped for just a moment when no one sounded the alarm, head down, panting. Jaxon. Please. I’m coming.
Where are you? Shit. Be careful.
Free. He groaned and forced himself to start moving again, slinking across the ground, knowing that the cats relied on sight way more than scent.
A truck stop. An old one. It has a kettle on the sign.
He found a ditch and started crawling on his belly, staying low. Ty could drive like the wind, and Alan knew this area. They would find him.
He had faith.
“A KETTLE, Alan. A truck stop with a kettle.”
“Shit, I know that,” Tyrone said, foot going to the floor.
“He’s free and on the run. He thinks they haven’t figured it yet.”
“I’ll get you there.” They flew up the highway, and it couldn’t have been two minutes before Ty was sliding off the interstate on an off ramp.
“Do we go for Seb or the cats?”
“Sebastian. The cats will come back. They want Sebastian alive.”
“So do we,” snarled Ty. “Get him.”
Jaxon nodded, and he was out of the car and in fox form before Ty could stop the engine. Alan was close behind, and he saw Ty and a shotgun in the headlights of their car.
Sebastian! Mate, I’m here! They’d stopped a ways down the road, not at the truck stop, so maybe they’d get away unscathed.
Here. Sebastian felt exhausted, heavy in his mind.
I’m coming. They were close enough now he could feel Sebastian, could tell what direction to run.
Here. Here. So tired.
I see you! Joy flared in his chest, and he yipped for Alan to follow. He could just make out Sebastian’s silhouette.
Alan was on point, eyes searching the landscape for hunters.
Sebastian limped toward them, and Jaxon wanted to bark, to leap, but he didn’t want to alert any cats who were searching.
Hurry. Hurry, mate, he encouraged. They needed to get back to the car before they were found.
Staggering, Sebastian came to him, and they met halfway, rubbing muzzles together.
Alan snapped at Sebastian’s tail, driving him forward, relentless. When his lover stumbled, Jaxon jammed himself under one shoulder, supporting Sebastian so he could run.
Go. Go. Go. He could hear Sebastian chanting, driving his paws forward.
Tyrone saw them coming, and the big guy hopped back in the car, getting it running for them.
Sebastian stumbled, muzzle hitting the dirt, but he righted himself and kept going.
Alan shifted the moment they made the car. He yanked open the door before lifting Sebastian in. “In, Jax. Now.”
He leaped in and Alan tossed Sebastian in, diving in behind them as gunfire started. Ty gunned it, peeling out down the highway like a bat out of hell.
Sebastian lay still on the seat, but his ribs heaved with effort. Jaxon licked his face, praising.
“Toward Ron or home?” Ty growled.
“Ron,” Alan said. “He has more security, and I think he has some questions to answer.”
Listen to that beta growl.
“On it, boss.”
Sebastian groaned, the sound soft, pained.
<
br /> He groomed Sebastian, knowing he would have to shift back to human soon enough, but wanting to offer comfort.
You found me. The thought was pure, strong, focused.
I always will.
Sebastian pushed into him, muzzle hot and dry.
Poor baby. He shifted, holding Sebastian close to him. “Tyrone, do we have water?”
“In the far back. There’s always bottled water back there.”
“Thanks.” He needed to find some clothes, but he grabbed water for Sebastian and dribbled some water into his mouth. His mate began to lap the water up, begging for more.
“Slowly, babe. You’ll get sick.” He stroked Sebastian’s muzzle, nice and easy. “I have you. I have you now.”
Sebastian whined, the sound low and pained. God, he wanted to hurt someone for this. He wanted someone to pay. Now.
Tyrone got them on the highway, moving back toward Boulder. “So far no one’s with us.”
“They won’t try for the main house. No way.” Alan growled. “I’ll have a doctor meet us there.”
“Okay. Good.” Jaxon was less sure about how the pack worked than Alan, so he would let Alan take the lead there.
“There’s safety in numbers too. We got this.”
“Thank God we finally got something,” Tyrone muttered.
“We got Sebastian.” That was what was important.
“We did.” He grinned at Alan but held Sebastian close, stroking his ears after he set the water bottle aside.
Mate. Sebastian’s voice was barely there, so tired.
“You’re safe now, love. I promise. Rest. You’ll feel better soon.” Ron had to have people who could see what drug was used. If not, Jaxon would figure it out. “All you need is sleep.”
And you.
I’m right here. He made sure Sebastian could feel his touch.
“We’re going to be there in about an hour. Alan, call and have them meet us, drive us in.” Ty was a brilliant son of a bitch.
“You got it.” Alan grabbed the phone Tyrone passed back, calling in reinforcements.
Jaxon wouldn’t relax until they were at Ron’s stronghold, but he could breathe now.
He had his mate, and he intended to keep Sebastian. Alive and safe. With him.
Chapter Thirteen
