The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set

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The Manx Cat Guardians Boxed Set Page 74

by J P Sayle


  Now that the fates had stepped in again, millennia later, Aaden’s friend Joe needed their help, making it nigh on impossible to avoid returning home when Joe had moved to the Isle of Mann several weeks earlier.

  Max plonked his head down on his gleaming white paws, the weight of his guilt spreading like butter on hot toast. His mind was distracted for a second by the thoughts of food, and he sighed when he couldn’t avoid the question that had nagged at him since he’d known they would be coming here.

  How am I going to explain to Aaden about the past?

  The bits Max had purposefully held back now seemed to mock his fear of changing the destiny of their fates. He’d learnt the hard way over the many years he’d searched that you couldn’t mess with the future, not unless you wanted an arse whooping. Max brushed his paw down his backside. Yep, his arse had most definitely been whooped.

  That, however, was not going to help him out of his current predicament. He recalled all the times he’d changed the subject when Aaden got too close to asking questions Max wouldn’t answer. Instead he’d regaled him with parts of history not found in their textbooks. He knew it was bad not to tell him, but for some reason, he felt it necessary not to tell him everything.

  Now with these urges and needs pulsing through him, he worried he might have made a mistake not telling Aaden the full story. His solid reasoning at the time now was holier than one of Joe’s jumpers, and that was saying something. Wasn’t it the reason he’d teleported back to the island in the first place to check out their new home, but also to check how he would feel being home at the scene of his crime.

  His mind quickly reminded him he’d gotten more than he bargained for. Burying his head in his paws, he prayed it wouldn’t be much longer before they could get off and allow him out of his cage.

  There was also the pressing need of his full bladder being relieved. His eyes drifted shut, and he tried hard to concentrate on something that wasn’t his lower regions, only to spring open as the loud horn blasted through the ship. His cage shook when a discombobulated voice roared into the van announcing their arrival.

  The slight bump as the boat docked had him firing forward into the door of his cage, desperate to escape as he felt Magnus’s soul lurch inside him in a way it had never done in all the years he’d carried it.

  Alarmed, he clawed at the cage door. Releasing the fragile lock, he pushed out into the back of the van, pacing impatiently, waiting for Aaden to return. The sound of clattering feet rose as people moved around the steel ship, making him antsy to escape. The door flung open, letting in the smell of oil and grease. Not giving Aaden a chance, he dived on to the cold metal floor, heading to the side, cocking his leg, relieving himself.

  Aaden chuckled behind him.

  A small crease formed on Max’s brow as he scowled up at Aaden. Turning away, he ignored the answering grin Aaden gave him and carried on peeing up the metal wall.

  “Come on, Max, hurry up. We have to make a move. Joe is waiting for me, along with his boyfriend.”

  The slight edge to Aaden’s voice as he spoke of Joe’s partner had him rolling his eyes.

  Goddess Freyja, give me patience.

  “How many times have I told you? Joe is not your soulmate. Yours is out there, somewhere, waiting for you. Though God knows who would have the patience to tolerate you. And yes, you have been patient, and as I say, I have been patient a lot longer. Now shut up and drive.”

  Max jumped back into the van just as Aaden sat in the driver’s seat and started the engine. Exhaust fumes filled the van as Aaden followed the slow-moving vehicles exiting the boat hull. Max coughed as his eyes watered for a second. He shook his head while Aaden moved the van down the ramp on to the road.

  Max gawped as he got his first glimpse of home in nearly eight hundred years. He was pleasantly surprised by the lushness of the surrounding greenery and swaying palm trees. His eyes tried to take it all in at once, checking out the new scenery they passed.

  Too busy nosing, he hardly had time to register what was happening to him when his body bowed back. Feeling a sudden ripping inside his chest, Max panted through the pain as Magnus’s soul released its long-term hold over him, floating out of his body for the first time in over eight hundred years.

  Mesmerised, Max watched the air move around him with a multitude of colours. He cast a quick glance at Aaden, grateful he was too busy looking for a parking spot to notice anything out of the ordinary. Max flopped back in relief into the leather seat. The lingering pain had him forcibly trying to calm his panting breath.

  The essence spread out, dissipating. It moved from inside the vehicle out into the light evening air. The rainbow patterns danced on the wind as if scenting the air before moving away and up into the pale blue sky, disappearing from his sight.

  What the hell was that?

  In all his years of giving up Óláfr’s soul to the rightful recipients, it had never felt like that before, more like a slight sting that the bees gave him when he chased and caught them.

  Maybe it is because it had always been my choice to free the soul, but then I’ve never released Magnus’s before.

  Why the hell hadn’t I thought about this before?

  Is this why I’ve failed so many times in the past?

  Oh, this didn’t bode well!

  His worried eyes searched the quay for Joe, looking for a distraction; anything from the fear that was swelling in his chest. His tumbling thoughts bashed into each other like dodgem cars at a fair. Uncertainty had him eyeing Joe before turning to Aaden. His paws twitched.

  Aaden’s thunderous dark eyes met his for a moment, making Max wonder if he’d sensed the inner turmoil he was feeling. Max tried to aim for a reassuring grin, failing miserably when it came out more like a grimace. Aaden shifted his gaze away but not before giving him a “what the fuck is up with you” look. Max ignored the silent question, shutting out Aaden before letting his suspicions surface.

  He felt this change of events was somehow going to affect them all, especially him and Aaden, though he wasn’t sure how. He gave a deep sigh when Aaden pulled up and exited the van, leaving him sitting, watching out the window.

  Max’s breath caught when the breeze rose, catching hold of Aaden’s dark hair. It blew around his shoulders as he strode towards Joe. The memory of Óláfr moving purposefully had Max shifting in fright, forcing himself to look away. The hard question pushing for an answer had him giving a disgruntled snort.

  Had this been the plan all along? That Óláfr’s soulmate would be here, where it all began?

  Aaden

  Aaden jumped out of the van, spotting Joe and what he assumed was his boyfriend. His eyes narrowed as the blond-haired hunk with Joe got in Joe’s face. Hurrying his pace, his heart pounding, he ignored the other milling passengers moving around him. His eyes never left both men who didn’t notice his approach, so caught up in their discussion. Aaden slowed his stride when he caught the scent of sexual tension drifting off the pair of them. Pausing a few feet away, he watched with hooded eyes as Stuart ravaged Joe’s mouth.

  Aaden tried not to squirm under their lust-filled interaction. He ignored the heat spreading and tightening in his groin from watching his friend being dominated.

  “I hope I’m not interrupting?” Aaden’s raised brow and sardonic, husky voice implying something else completely as he stared at Joe who was wrapped around the blond-haired hunk almost humping his long, lean leg.

  Two pairs of startled eyes turned towards him both with distinct different expressions. Aaden concentrated on the one that was welcoming, Joe. He ignored the wave of annoyance aimed at him by Joe’s boyfriend, Stuart.

  He kept his face blank when Stuart’s forehead scrunched up, his brows disappearing under his fringe when steel-grey eyes dulled in disappointment when they roamed his large frame. Coughing into his hand he hid his smirk at Stuart’s obvious disconcert at the size of him. He’d known Stuart had caught sight of him when he’d been standing on the de
ck. He hadn’t been able to make out his expression, but his body language spoke volumes.

  He let his gaze roam over both men, and pleasure coursed through him at seeing how happy his friend seemed. His hand moved to his stomach without thought. The clutch of jealousy surprised him when he genuinely was happy for his friend.

  The look of total adoration on Stuart’s face as he looked at Joe had the want, the need that was ever present, increasing. It didn’t matter how many times Max said his soulmate was waiting out there somewhere for him. He was fed up being on his own. The loneliness seemed to be as heavy as a JCB truck riding over his body. Not that he knew what that felt like, but he could guess, and that shit was heavy.

  Giving himself a mental slap for his own maudlin thoughts, he forced himself to focus instead on how exultant Joe was, and that he’d seemed to have finally gotten over the dickhead, Joel. The nagging voice at the back of his head that said it was a pity Joe hadn’t dealt with his issues earlier went unheeded. Who could blame him though? Melted chocolate eyes, beautiful smile, and firm lithe body, what was not to want?

  It was just a pity that his visit was because of Joe’s arsehole ex and that he had a bad feeling things were not going to end amiably between them all.

  Aaden’s thoughts halted when he watched Stuart pull Joe closer to his chest. The ‘he belongs to me’ glare Stuart gave him pinned him to the spot for a second. He already knew it was more than just sex between them. Christ, you could almost feel the love surrounding the pair of them.

  Aaden couldn’t resist winding him up just a little, so he gave Stuart a small smirk. Aaden clasped his lips together, stopping the grin that wanted to escape and giving the game away. Stuart’s eyes went flinty hard, glinting like steel in the evening sun. Only then did Aaden give in, nodding in acquis. He understood possessive urges, even when he had no one to be possessive over.

  Shrugging off the thought, he let his attention be diverted. His body, he noticed, even with all the tension floating between him and Stuart, relaxed. The unsettled feelings that were his constant companions unravelled inside his gut as he let his gaze roam.

  He was somewhat pleased to see the island was a lot lovelier than he’d thought it would be. The fading sky and setting sun reflected off the large expanse of sea to his right. The white waves rushed into the long stretch of golden sandy beach. The billowing palm trees situated along the long promenade seemed out of context on an island that wasn’t in the Caribbean. The hotels that lined the other side of the promenade gave the place a holiday feel. Even in October there appeared to be a lot of activity. Cars, vans, and bikes poured of the boat moving into the island’s traffic, yet there didn’t appear to be any of the congestion you found in many cities, worldwide.

  The pace seemed to slow down almost as if life moved in slow motion. It gave him an odd sense of belonging. Rubbing at the prickling at the back of his neck, he was a little surprised to feel contentment spread through him. Wow.

  Joe’s small muscular arms pulled him in for a hug, diverting his mind.

  Aaden chuckled when Joe barely reached the middle of his massive chest. How could I have forgotten how small he is?

  “It’s good to see you, man. I’d like to introduce you officially to Stuart.”

  Aaden turned, giving Stuart his full attention. He could sense instantly that Stuart wasn’t happy with Joe hanging off his body. Joe’s beaming face seemed to be completely oblivious to the shit storm he was stoking when his hands roamed over Aaden’s chest. His earlier arousal pushed to escape, and moving a fraction away, Aaden hoped Joe hadn’t noticed.

  Stuart’s tight voice penetrated past the haze of lust clouding Aaden’s mind.

  “Hi, it’s nice to meet any of Joe’s friends.” The statement seemed to convey an unspoken question that Aaden chose to overlook. Instead he took the offered hand, shaking it firmly. His attention was caught by the slight fragrance of lemongrass clinging to Stuart’s suit jacket. Aaden moved before his mind could catch up. Stepping closer to Stuart, he dragged Joe with him.

  The scent teased Aaden’s senses. It was familiar, yet it didn’t appear to belong on this man. Stuart’s underlying woodsy scent was more masculine and so different from the effeminate smell clinging to his clothes. A sense of urgency and the sudden hardening in his jeans had him pulling on his other senses.

  He took a few seconds to pull up Stuart’s recent memories. There, Aaden felt the sparks ignite as he captured the memory that went with the smell. Aaden pulled his hand back, feeling out of sorts but not entirely sure why the memory of the red-headed man unnerved him.

  Stuart’s shocked expression and the hand frantically rubbing against the grey suit trouser leg let Aaden know he had not pulled out of his mind quick enough.

  He sighed, trying to remember some people were more sensitive than others to his probing. Max’s warnings seemed to have flown out the window when his need to know overrode all common sense.

  Aaden watched Stuart step away from him not so subtly, avoiding any more body contact with him.

  Joe interrupted the moment by speaking. “We should probably head home so you can get settled.”

  Stuart grabbed Joe’s hand, pulling him away from Aaden. Aaden bit his lip to stop the chuckle from escaping when Joe glared at Stuart’s attempts to separate them. Aaden lowered his arm. He hadn’t even realised he was still holding Joe.

  “Where’s your car?” Joe’s question to Stuart sounded more like an accusation to Aaden. When Stuart gave Joe a small smirk, it confirmed his suspicions.

  “I left it parked in my work’s car park. I thought I could catch a lift with you.”

  His confident smile dropped a notch when Joe squelched that idea. Joe pointed at Stuart, then gave Aaden a look that brooked no argument. Aaden arched his brow at Joe’s “don’t you dare say anything” look.

  “That’s all right because you can go in Aaden’s van with him, so he doesn’t get lost.”

  Joe’s confident smirk at Stuart seemed to make the other man deflate, sagging into his coat and suit jacket when Aaden accepted without putting up the fight.

  Aaden was sure that the satnav would have gotten him there just as easy, but it appeared Joe had a game plan he wasn’t sharing with Aaden.

  He shrugged it off.

  If Joe, for whatever reason, wanted to punish Stuart by forcing him to travel with him, then who was he to question it. It would give him a chance to interrogate the other man. The tutting Max did when his thoughts strayed to more than interrogating Stuart had him struggle not to hunch.

  He growled at Stuart to follow him. It’s only going to be a short journey. What could possibly go wrong in twenty minutes?

  Aaden’s teeth locked together, and his lips tightened while his jaw ached with the restraint it took to say nothing to Max and Stuart. He had a feeling a visit to the dentist may be the first port of call, after the last twenty minutes of teeth grinding.

  His normally controlled temper pulled at the tight leash he kept it on, but for some reason, Max and Stuart decided today was the day to try and snap it, and for why, he couldn’t understand.

  His fingers flexed on the steering wheel as he pulled the van up to the curb outside the drab, grey house that was to be his new home.

  How much could one man sneeze, and what the fuck is wrong with you, Max? What’s with the hissing and growling the whole fucking time?

  Not getting a response from Max, Aaden jumped out of the van the minute it came to a standstill, trying to escape the strange atmosphere in the van. He barely held his temper in check as he let Max out to stretch his legs, hoping that Max’s mood would improve out of the confines of the van.

  A loud squealing, followed by hissing had Aaden springing around in time to witness a flying, little black cat launch at Max’s big white body, claws digging deep before it sprang back on its hind legs, clawing.

  What on earth?

  He was unsure why Max had frozen, staying and not moving a muscle. Aaden saw blood s
eep through his thick, white fur. Dashing forward, he scooped up his baby while pushing the spitting black cat out of the way. He ignored the commotion around him and searched to see what damage there was.

  The chaos grew as Joe grabbed for the hissing, small black cat, Stuart sneezed and yelled at what he assumed was the little black cat, called Princess.

  Great, this looks like it’s going to be fun.

  He couldn’t for the life of him grasp what the fuck was wrong with this place, but there was definitely something!

  He watched the retreating back of Joe as he took the hissing cat away with Stuart running behind him sneezing. He gave Max a gentle stroke over his back before turning away from Joe and focusing on getting the keys out of his pocket so he could check Max’s wounds.

  He was never more grateful to the estate agent for having sent the keys by courier as the lateness of his arrival meant their office would have been closed, and he hadn’t wanted to spend his first night at Joe’s. It seemed his thinking had been fortuitous now that the cat Joe had had taken a picking into Max for no good reason that he could see.

  Scowling back at Joe’s home, he felt the tension gather at the back of his neck. He absently rubbed at it as turned, walking towards the drab grey house, clutching a silent Max to him. The reassuring weight comforting even if the silent treatment had him wanting to heave a sigh.

  It wasn’t my bloody fault that cat was nuts, is it?

  “Shut up, Aaden.” Max’s angry growl had Aaden pause just as he was about to push the key in the lock.

  “What! Hey, you can’t blame me for that bloody cat attacking you. Come on, I need to check you’re all right. Can’t have you bleeding all over the carpets in here.” His aim at humour fell short as the stench of hate hit them both as the door opened into a world of what could only be described as shit brown.

  I’d thought the drab grey outside was bad. Well, who knew I’d be so fucking wrong!

 

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