by Jools Louise
Ethan raced after his brother, telling his friends that Douglas had gone AWOL. He had waited a good ten minutes after watching his sibling leave, and despite his instinct to follow right away, he hadn’t wanted to crowd the man. Douglas needed time to himself sometimes, but Ethan also knew that when Douglas got depressed, sometimes his reasoning was skewed. He didn’t know where Douglas had gone but he followed his nose, wasting precious minutes tracing the man’s scent among so many others.
Once he was on track, he shifted quickly and took off after his brother, hoping Douglas wasn’t about to do something stupid.
* * * *
A loud wail reached Douglas’s ears as he loped through the trees, aiming for the water hole he’d been to once before, when’d he run from the swimming pool earlier. He could feel the sun’s rays waning, and the direction of its heat told him it was getting close to sunset. The cry he heard had him turning his feet in that direction, following the alarmed noise that sounded suspiciously like that of a small child.
He was glad that he’d thought to take his backpack, having grabbed it when he raced for the bathroom, and then decided to forego the hassle and get some peace and quiet. All the noise had become too much. Shifting to human form, he dressed rapidly and kept his ears alert for more sounds. The cry came again, closer now. Douglas frowned and walked carefully forward.
“Candy?” he shouted suddenly, thinking he knew who the little escape artist might be. The little girl was good at losing her minders.
“Dougie?” she shouted back, sounding tearful. “I can’t get down,” she wailed and sobbed in terror. “I climbed up and now I’m stuck.” She sounded frustrated as well as scared. Douglas did a mental eye roll. Who the fuck was supposed to be watching her? She was going to get really hurt if they didn’t teach her not to keep running off.
“I’m coming,” he yelled. “Keep talking to me, so I can follow your voice.”
She began to talk, telling him all about the pretty butterfly that had told her to chase it. “It was so beautiful,” she said. “Blue with little specks of white on its wings. It kept telling me to follow it, so I did. Naughty butterfly for making me climb this tree.”
He didn’t even want to know how it was possible for her to describe a butterfly so perfectly, since her sight had been fading steadily, according to Cody. Perhaps she’d created the creature from memory. Douglas groaned inwardly. “How big is the tree, Candy?”
“Huge,” she replied helpfully. “It’s this big.” He imagined that she was showing him with her arms stretched wide, not much use in his sightless state, really.
“Is it as big as you are?” he asked teasingly, moving closer and closer.
She giggled. “No, silly, it’s as big as…a house,” she said. “Only skinnier.”
“Did you tell anyone where you were going?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nope,” she replied cheerfully. “I was chasing the butterfly, and he told me not to say anything to anyone.” She whispered loudly. “It was supposed to be a secret.”
“Who were you not going to tell?” he asked, wincing at the confused question. She understood perfectly.
“Rob and Kyle,” she replied, throwing them both under the bus without a qualm. “They didn’t want to watch the football and volunteered for critter watch,” she added. Douglas grinned suddenly. Critter watch? Perfect description for the miniature fuzz butts.
“Where are they, do you think?” he asked dryly, and yelped as he walked straight into a hard, knobbly wall. He reached out and fingered the wall, feeling rough bark. He’d literally walked into the tree.
“Going spare, I should think,” she replied, giggling again. He bit back a laugh, thinking that she was picking up some fairly adult idioms. He had to agree though. Her sitters were probably going crazy trying to find her. Her voice was high above him, and he peered upward.
“Do you think you can describe how far up you are?” he asked, not expecting much.
“Really high,” she said, and her voice trembled again, her fear returning. “Can you come up and get me? I’m scared.”
Not thinking twice, Douglas shifted and leapt upward, his sharp claws digging into the bark as he heaved his bulk higher. His shoulders ached from the effort, but he figured four paws were safer than two sets of spindly fingers when trying to climb a tree that he couldn’t see. He heard Candy’s breathing and sobbing gently, so quietly he could barely hear her. He followed the sound and gingerly made his way up to the branch she was clinging to. Just as he maneuvered onto it, he felt her little arms wrap around his neck, pulling him off balance. With a yell, he lost his grip and tumbled, with her clinging like a limpet to his back, and landed with a hard jolt on the ground below, all four paws outstretched to break his fall.
“Dougie?” Candy said, a few minutes later, stroking his head gently. He shook his head to clear the buzzing in his ears. The jolt had dazed him for a moment, stunning his senses.
He chuffed at her, butting her gently with his massive heard, and she cuddled him gently, kissing his nose.
“It’s getting dark, Dougie,” she whispered fearfully. “Can we go home, now? I don’t like being in the dark.”
He chuffed again, urging her to get on his back. She complied quickly and jumped aboard, lying down and gripping his short fur tightly. “Giddy up,” she giggled, kicking his flanks with her little feet.
He snorted, got his bearings, and decided he hadn’t got a clue how to get to the ranch’s creche, so he began to retrace his steps back to the sports complex. There should be enough people around there who could get Candy back home safely.
“Thank you, Dougie,” Candy said sweetly. “I thought I’d have to stay up there all night.” She gave a relieved sigh, and he chuckled to himself. That would have been the least of her worries if she’d fallen. He wondered if all fuzz butts had the same taste for adventure, or if he was just lucky enough to have befriended Houdini’s daughter.
It occurred to him that he’d just managed to save a little girl, albeit clumsily. Maybe he wasn’t so useless as he thought he was. His nose twitched, scenting a fox in the distance, and then he heard the raucous cry of a crow overhead. He felt Candy slump a little, and her breathing evened out. She was asleep. The little minx might just be in time-out for the rest of her life after this little episode. He wondered how John and Murphy managed with their brood. They had a mix of younger and older kids, but still, all kids could be a handful.
A new scent reached his nostrils, one that was unfamiliar to him. He smelled unwashed human, but nobody he knew. Sniffing, he flicked an ear warily, feeling uneasy for some reason. He’d never felt like that out here. This was Two Shifter ranch territory, safe as any place on earth. He was confused as to why he felt tense.
“Well, now, what do we have here?” a gruff voice asked, gravelly and full of malice, the words slightly slurred, as though the guy had been drinking. “Looks like one of those mangy shifters I’ve heard so much about.” Douglas snarled softly. The speaker was dead ahead. He halted, waiting, not wanting to scare Candy, so he kept his growl low.
“Dougie? Who’s that man?”
Douglas groaned silently. He chuffed lightly, trying to soothe her.
“His name’s Dougie is it?” the intruder asked, somewhat irrelevantly. Obviously not the brightest spark in the box. “Well, I think Dougie is just a freak, isn’t he? God created animals and humans, separate, like. Whatever Dougie is, he sure ain’t one of God’s creatures, is he? He’s a freak of nature. So I guess that makes him fair game, don’t it?” There was an ominous click, as though a gun had just been armed and made ready to fire.
“My friend Dougie just saved my life,” Candy said fiercely. “Why are you being mean to him?”
Douglas froze, not knowing what to do next. If he attacked, Candy could be hurt. If he didn’t attack, they could both be shot. This guy didn’t sound as though he was playing with a full deck. And he was drunk to boot. It was anyone’s guess how he wo
uld behave. There was a small but vocal group of humans who were angry that shifters had apparently taken over the world. The human protestors claimed that shifters had taken their jobs and were a blight on the economy. The same shitty argument that people who had probably never worked a day in their lives used and had been using for decades. The funny thing was, if a job came available, these bozos were last in line to apply. The same people who were unemployable, but expected that when they did decide the day had come to get their carcasses into a job, they’d just walk into a highly paid career, no questions asked.
Candy suddenly jumped off Douglas’s back, giving him a heart attack as she hugged him tightly, her arms clutching his neck, and her face buried in his fur. “He stinks,” she whispered. “I don’t think he’s had a bath in a while.”
Douglas chuffed with amusement, despite himself.
“Little girl, you get away from that creature, you hear?” the man ordered. Douglas heard another ominous click, as though the guy had just released the safety on the gun. It sounded loud, and he imagined the guy held a long rifle or possibly a shotgun.
“You’re not gonna hurt my friend Dougie,” she retorted, then stepped in front of him and sounded as though she stamped her foot on the ground angrily. “You’re not supposed to be here. This is Two Spirit ranch, and you don’t live here.”
“Move, girlie,” the man warned, his tone more menacing now.
“No,” she retorted stubbornly.
Not waiting any longer, Douglas shoved Candy behind him and leapt for the guy, aiming for what he imagined was the center of his chest to push him to the ground.
The man screamed in terror, the gun discharging right by Douglas’s ear, blasting like a cannon as buckshot peppered Douglas’s shoulder and ribs. He snarled in pain, his momentum keeping him going forward, and landed on the man’s prone form. The guy kept screaming, shoving at Douglas, trying to get away as Douglas roared angrily, the scent of fresh urine emanating soon after. Douglas had literally made the guy pee his pants. He roared again, louder still, and then shoved his snout to the man’s throat warningly.
“Douglas!” came a loud yell, sounding far away. It sounded like Ethan.
Seconds later, a confusion of noise surrounded him as a bunch of familiar figures gathered around. Cracker and Ryder, John and Cody and Joe, as well as Ethan and his wolverine mates, all four of them. The posse had arrived.
“Candy,” Douglas said faintly, shifting to human form.
“She’s fine,” Cracker said, close to his ear. Douglas felt himself lifted, in a pair of strong arms that were as familiar as his mate’s scent.
“Come on, tiger,” Ryder said, sounding winded, as though he’d been running for hours. “Let’s get these wounds seen to.”
“Douglas, please, don’t run off again,” Cody pleaded hoarsely. “I’m only forty-eight, and I’d like to live a long and happy life with my husband, if you don’t mind. You’re taking years off my life.”
Douglas tried to smile, but felt his consciousness fading fast.
“Pussy,” he mumbled, then slumped in his lover’s arms.
Chapter Seven
Cracker walked into the clinic, his arm linked with Ryder’s. Their beloved, buckshot mate was inside, causing chaos after an overnight stay for observation. Leo had called fifteen minutes ago, begging them to come and retrieve Douglas, otherwise he would not be responsible for the consequences.
The noise that hit them like a wall had then looking at each other, laughing heartily. Yep! Douglas was on form today. They opened the door to the main ward cautiously to see five wheelchair-bound patients bouncing a basketball around, laughing and jostling one another as they each fought for the ball. A temporary hoop had been hooked up above the far door, with Douglas and Alfie shouting encouragement from the sidelines. All the beds had been shoved out of the way, and the remaining patients were cheering their friends on, whooping and hollering encouragingly.
“Wheelchair basketball?” Ryder asked drolly, tilting his head to view the lively game with interest.
“Looks like fun,” Cracker enthused, slapping Ryder’s ass smartly. Ryder responded by wrapping his thickly muscled forearm around Cracker’s neck and dragging him in for a noogie, which had Cracker laughing heartily, fending him off with a hand down the back of Ryder’s pants and a sneaky hole in one with his index finger. Yelping, Ryder let go, and they kissed sensuously.
“Whatcha doing?” a little voice asked curiously. The pair sprang apart as though tasered. Cracker eyed the tiny pipsqueak otherwise known as Candy, feeling a tinge of relief that she wasn’t able to see what he’d just done to his lover. Then he gave himself a mental slap. She was clinically blind, with only a vague knowledge of light and dark. There was no way he should feel it was a good thing that she couldn’t see.
“Er, we’re just roughhousing,” Cracker admitted, staring into her sightless green eyes. Her lips were a bright blue and she had a small paper cup in her hands, sucking blue Kool-Aid through a straw. He smiled at the picture she made.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with John at the cafe?” Ryder asked, and she grinned at him, a slightly naughty look on her face.
“John said that I wasn’t supposed to go wandering off, in case somebody I didn’t know tried to hurt me again,” she explained carefully. “But he didn’t say anything about going somewhere that I knew everyone.” She shrugged, as if that was enough to keep her out of trouble. Cracker exchanged a look with his lover, part amusement and part alarm. Candy was going to make them all prematurely gray, the little minx.
John came running in, pale-faced, then slid to a stop when he saw Candy there. Cracker heard him take a deep breath, close his eyes, and his lips moved as though counting.
“You really do need to be more specific in your instructions,” Ryder drawled with a wide grin, obviously enjoying John’s near heart attack and his attempts to refrain from swearing. “Candy here’s just told us that since she knows everyone here, she didn’t think it would be a problem to come and visit.”
John let out a low, frustrated growl, hastily stemmed at a hard look from Cracker.
“Candy, sweetheart, please tell me or any of the grown-ups who are in your group where you’re going,” he said, surprisingly gently, given the gleam in his eyes.
Candy nodded sweetly. “Yes, Uncle John,” she agreed, and went to hug him. Lifting her into his arms, he kissed her cheek and sent Cracker and Ryder a rueful grin.
“My old army buddies are in town, causing havoc at the café with the wolverines,” he said, rolling his eyes. “They’re trying to set up a friendly soccer match against the Sage team. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, they’re all shifters, too. Who knew?”
Cracker laughed at that. “Not you, obviously,” he retorted. Then he looked at the wheelchair basketball game in progress and shot John a look. “Apparently Douglas seems to be the instigator in this rather brutal-looking sport,” he said. “He said he once saw the sport at the Paralympic Games in London. Apparently there’s something called wheelchair rugby, too. I don’t know about you, but it does look like fun. What do you say to getting a team together from your crew? I’m sure there are other disabled shifters who would love to play.”
John peered into the ward, laughing softly. “Jay and Mason are competing in a team already,” he said. “They’ve got Ethan and two of the wolf shifters roped in, as well.”
Ryder’s eyes widened comically. “Okay, I didn’t see that one coming,” he said.
“It’s as much about stamina and speed and balance as it is accuracy,” John replied, smiling when Candy’s head drooped against his shoulder, the cup balancing precariously. Grabbing the drink, he turned to leave. “I hear you and Misty are opening a sweets shop,” he said. “When are you planning on opening?”
Cracker grinned like a big kid. “Just as soon as I can convince Douglas to volunteer for duty,” he said. “Misty’s over there now, with Max and Harley, helping to get set up at the new mini mall that�
�s just opening up. Kaden, Sherman’s brother, is just viewing a couple of the units for the hair salon.
Before Cracker had finished speaking, Alfie and Douglas were in motion, avoiding the wheelchairs, looking excited as they ran over. “The salon is going ahead?” Alfie squealed, jumping around like a live catfish on a hot griddle.
“Yep!” Cracker responded drolly. “Kaden may have mentioned how he’s thinking of renting two units, so that he can have a nail bar and beauty treatment spa thingy next door to the hair place.”
“Spa thingy?” Douglas drawled, grinning.
“Do you think Kaden would mind if I headed over there?” Alfie asked hopefully. “He did mention about the salon and all, but I thought perhaps he’d forgotten, since I haven’t seen him around town for a week or so.”
“He had to run a little errand for me in New York,” Ryder interjected, casting a look to Cracker, whose eyes sharpened visibly.
“New York?” Cracker asked gruffly. “Have you found something out?” he asked.
“We have, my love,” Ryder said gently, kissing Cracker on the lips lovingly. “Right now I can’t disclose too much, but the second things start to go down, you’ll be in the loop fully.”
Cracker sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping. “It’s because I went berserk, isn’t it? The reason that you’re not telling me stuff is because I may fly off the handle.”
Douglas moved closer, hugging the big lion shifter. “Darling, you do tend to explode quite quickly,” he said, kissing Cracker and then Ryder. “The guy in New York is living free, but he’s on borrowed time. The net is closing around him.”
“Did I hear you mention that there is a hair and beauty spa opening in town?” a voice asked behind them. They all turned to see one of the cheetah shifters who had been rescued from Colorado, tortured and nearly beaten to death by Sherman’s stepfather and his cronies. The man was tall, and he had the gangly grace of a giraffe, a slightly haughty expression on his face.
