What the Cat Dragged in (Sanctuary Book 2)

by BA Tortuga

  “Mmm.” Connor’s purr was deep, vibrating through him like a buzz saw.

  He stroked Connor’s back, unable to stop touching. “Thank you for supper, Ragbone.”

  “You’re welcome. I was hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry.”

  “But I was even more hungry than hungry.” Connor patted him absently. “Shh.”

  “Did you just shush me?”

  “Totally.” Connor cracked open the blue eye. “No worrying, no babbling to cover up what you’re thinking. You have me. I found you. I promise to let you find me too.”

  What did that even mean?

  Brock shrugged it off. He wasn’t in a place for deep thought. Connor was right. They could just bask.

  14

  Connor watched Brock watch the Fish and Game guy, Darius, pace. Darius was growling into a satellite phone about regulations and coordinates and heaven knew what else.

  Brock glanced at Connor and rolled his eyes. “Red tape.”

  “Oh. He needs to get laid in the worst way.” Frustration was written like script on the big guy’s face.

  “Right? I mean, in the short term, we just need to find the bear and release it.”

  They’d arrived on Grand Mesa at a ranger station and met up with Darius, who gave them a dossier two inches thick. There was a ring of poachers actually trapping bears for the black market of their organs. Connor wasn’t sure he’d believed someone would do that until he saw the pictures. Assholes.

  Darius was furious right now because he’d intercepted a radio message about a bear that was still alive but about to be transported. Now he had to wait for clearance to save it. Blah blah blah. These folks had altogether too many goddamn rules.

  “Can’t we just go get it, Brock? I’m real good with locks.”

  Brock gave him another sideways glance. “Well, I’m not even a contractor for Fish and Game right now. They haven’t approved me yet.” Brock winked, but Connor could see the seriousness under it. Time was not on their side.

  And if they weren’t approved by the time they left, they should just go and get the bear.

  “Come on, honey. Let’s just, you know, get the truck ready.”

  “Okay. Sure. I can totally do that.” Did that mean sneak away and save the bear? That sounded like fun. He had jerky.

  Brock led him back to their truck, the frequent glances at Darius telling him Brock was ready to run.

  He swung up into the passenger seat, easy as pie. They were going bear hunting for the best reasons.

  They tore out of the parking area, Brock grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  Sometimes rules just got in the way.

  He loved that Brock knew that.

  “Okay, here are the coordinates we have.” Brock rattled them off.

  Connor tapped them into his phone, feeling techy as all get-out. “On it.”

  “Good deal.” Brock was cooking with oil, burning up the road.

  “Is there a plan, or are we just going to go fetch her? Him?”

  “We’re not sure of the gender. We’re just going to try to go in low and fast and save it.”

  “Okay. Are we transporting it?”

  “Depends on the cage situation. Ideally we’ll call in Darius. If it’s trapped, they’ve probably tranqed it.”

  Connor could hear Brock running probabilities in his head.

  “Okay. So what if the bad guys are there? Do we bite them?” He wasn’t opposed to biting someone in a pinch. “I brought my .45.”

  “You did what?”

  “Brought my pistol. It’s in the toolbox.” There was no reason to travel unarmed.

  “Shit, honey. Just don’t shoot me.” Brock shook his head. “I mean, I got nothing against firearms. Truly.”

  “I don’t intend to shoot anyone that I don’t have to.” Sometimes he thought Brock believed he was a bit of a Pollyanna. He wanted to be able to be, that was for sure, but that wasn’t the world they lived in, not even a bit.

  Connor knew about the nasty shit that lived in the dark corners; he had no illusions about the greater outside world. Dwelling on it didn’t help at all, though, did it?

  Sometimes you had to be the bigger bad guy to end up being the good guy in the end.

  Damn, that was convoluted as fuck, wasn’t it? No wonder he didn’t spend a lot of time philosophizing.

  Brock turned where Connor indicated, slowing to make the dirt road. Then Brock began to coast a bit, clearly not wanting to alert anyone they were coming. “We on the right track?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, the road is going to peter out here soon.”

  “Okay. We might be on foot, at least for reconnaissance.”

  “You’re so sexy when you go all military.” Connor chuckled when Brock flipped him off. “It’s true.”

  “You’re pushing it, Ragbone.”

  “You’re all camo and fangs. It’s sexy.”

  “I am going to thump you.” Brock was snorting, though, his eyes scanning the road. “This looks like a good spot to pull off.”

  “Works for me. We have about a mile and a half to walk, so we should be able to handle that.” They could go for miles, honestly, but they needed to be quiet-quiet, just in case.

  “You want your weapon?” Brock pulled off the rough track into a small clearing. He turned them around so the truck faced out, which was a smart move.

  “Do I need it?” It seemed a reasonable question.

  “Well, if we have to go fuzzy, it will get lost.”

  “And then someone might find it.” He prided himself on being responsible and shit, didn’t he? He almost looked up to see if lightning was fixin’ to strike, but that seemed to be tempting fate, just a bit.

  “Right. Better to leave it locked in the toolbox.” Brock slipped out of the truck, and the only thing they took with them was a water bottle.

  They stopped chattering then, covering some ground while keeping their ears and noses open for company.

  Brock stopped after about a mile, raising a hand, and Connor nodded. He heard it too. The sound of raised voices. Brock pulled out his cell phone and turned the sound off. Oh, good man.

  Connor slipped deeper into the trees, letting his cat whisper to him. He wanted higher ground somehow, some way to see. Brock was moving slow, head tilting, nose working. Hunting like a wolf.

  He counted on finding a perch and then waiting, but Brock hunted in a pack, and he thought he’d be Brock’s pack now.

  So, he would do it Brock’s way until he couldn’t. He followed, flanking Brock, waiting for his cue.

  The voices grew louder, and the trees thinned, a glistening lake coming into view. For a moment, all Connor wanted to do was admire the pristine water. Cold. It looked cold.

  There was a very unhappy bear in a too-small cage, and a trio of men who seemed to be ramping up to eat each other’s faces.

  Maybe they would all shoot each other. That would kill two poaching birds with one stone.

  Brock was thinking how the bear wasn’t sedated, and there was no way they were going to get that cage in the truck without losing an arm or two. So, they had to neutralize the men.

  What do you want me to do, mate?

  Brock frowned over at him, eyebrows lowered. Connor stared back, not willing to back down.

  When Brock finally glanced away, Connor didn’t feel any triumph. In fact, he was a little sad Brock was so determined to deny what was between them. Patience was a virtue, though, right? Right.

  Need a distraction. The words came as though from a radio with lots of static.

  I’m on it.

  Connor stood up, crashing through the trees, bouncing off the aspens and making enough noise to wake the dead. He had a feeling Brock would yell at him later, but two of the poachers tore off after him; he heard them shouting. That left one man with the bear.

  “Oh my God! You found me! I’ve been wandering around for hours. Do either of you have a phone?”

  The two guys skidded to a halt. “W
hat?”

  “I was hiking.” He remembered a name he’d seen on Brock’s map. “I was looking for Ward Lake.”

  “Dude, this lake isn’t even mapped. Just go back the way you came.”

  “I thought I was. I have been walking for hours.” Hours. Right. He made a pitiful face. “Look, I left my phone in the truck. Can’t you try a call for me?”

  “No signal.” They gave him stone-faced expressions, not an ounce of sympathy in them.

  “Dammit. I tell you what, y’all, this sucks. I’m totally going back to Dallas and tell everyone this place is insane.”

  “You do that, buddy. Go right back to Texas.” One of the men sneered, and Connor knew he’d hit on just the right tack. Everyone hated a Texan.

  Brock burst out of the trees behind the men, dealing one a stunning blow to the back of the head.

  “How fun!” Connor caught the other underneath the chin, letting the sheer strength of his animal self shine.

  Both assholes dropped like stones in water, plopping down as if they were going to have a wee nap.

  Connor hooted, holding up a hand for a high five.

  Brock laughed and slapped his hand. “The other one is unconscious too. I used my belt on his hands, but we’ll need to secure them all so I can call Darius.”

  He pulled zip ties out of one of his cargo pockets, chuckling at the look on Brock’s face.

  “Who are you?” Brock just hooted after that and grabbed one set of ties to bind the closest man’s hands and feet.

  “Connor Ragbone, Fuzzy.” He bowed dramatically, with the prerequisite waving and wiggling of hands. “Silly man, forgetting me so soon. A man might get himself a complex.”

  “Uh-huh. You sure you’re not a kitty version of some TV hero?” Brock watched him bind the other man. “Come help me with number three.”

  “You got it.” He just listened to what he was told, that was all.

  The bear was definitely not tranqed. Angry. Whoa, she-bear. He hoped she didn’t have cubs. “Can we let her go, honey? This experience will teach her not to mess with folks, and if your friend Darius gets ahold of her, she’ll either be tagged and relocated or put down, and I’d sure hate that.”

  “And what am I going to tell Darius?” Brock asked, eyeing him curiously. Curious was good. Way better than dismissive.

  “That she was fixin’ to hurt herself? We could put the assholes in the cage, let them hang out there. You can take bear in cage pictures for proof?”

  Brock shook his head. “That’s half an idea. We just say these guys had a bear, but they lost her before they could get her cage secure. Who’s gonna know what’s fresh and what’s not? I’m not keen on seeing her killed or moved. It’s damned isolated up here.”

  “Okay. I’ll let her go. You should probably stand back.” So far his not getting killed by a bear percentage was very good.

  “Okay, but we need to steer her away from the poachers. If she mauls them, we’re screwed.” Brock slid easily around behind the bear cage.

  “Are we?” Connor thought it sounded like poetic justice, but he could be flexible and shit. He was very Zen that way. He climbed up onto the top of the cage, dancing around the furious claws. “Be nice, Mamma Bear. I’m going to set you free and then… do something impressive that will get me laid.”

  “On three, Ragbone. I’m ready to get you out of there if it goes bad.”

  “One. I have beef jerky, bear. I’ll share. Two.”

  She sniffed hard, her grumbles loud and pissed off. She was just a wee black bear, though. If he had to go kitty, she would run. He hoped.

  “Three!” Brock shouted, and Connor hoped bears couldn’t count.

  He threw the cage open, and she barreled out, furious and foaming, huge head rocking back and forth as she roared.

  Connor put the cage between them, Brock yanking him back as he slid off in the opposite direction of the one she took. He didn’t really want to have to try to be big and scary enough to run her off.

  Really, he was on the fun-sized scale, if he was honest.

  She began to run, not even worrying about them, and suddenly he heard them. Little voices answering her.

  Fuck-a-doodle-goddamn-do.

  “Looks like you did a good deed, Ragbone. They’d die without her, and I know Darius would have tried to relocate her, not kill her, but sometimes the laws get weird.” Brock clapped him on the back. “Now I’ll call in the law. There’s plenty of evidence that they were engaging in illegal trapping. They have a shitload of paraphernalia in their truck.”

  “Rock on. Call away.” He sort of wanted to boogie. “That was fun.”

  Brock mock glared at him. “You can say that, but my ass will get chewed. It’s totally worth it.”

  “I’ll bite him. If anyone chews your ass, it’s me.”

  “Oh, baby.” Brock batted his eyelashes before tugging out his phone. No signal his ass.

  “That’s what they get for lying and being shitty people.”

  “It is. You’ve earned a shot at my ass.”

  He bounced. “Excellent news. Can we have tacos too?”

  “We totally can. We’ll run down into Delta and provision. There’s a TacoTime there.”

  “TacoTime.” He loved it. “Wonderful!”

  “Yeah. Better than the Taco Bell by a long shot, but there’s one of those too.” Brock grinned and dialed his phone. “Hey, Dar. I know, I know. Nope. No bear in the cage. Got the guys, though, and there’s plenty of evidence of what they were doing. Okay. You have half an hour before I leave on a taco run. Bye.”

  This was surprisingly satisfying—to play with Brock, to save bears. Lisle would be impressed with him. She was fascinated by bears; she wanted to go to Alaska and work with polar bears….

  Brave girl.

  He loved his life.

  They waited for Darius, but Connor sensed a subtle change in Brock. Less patience for red tape all of a sudden.

  He walked over, nuzzled Brock’s ear.

  “Mmm. Hey, Ragbone. Nice job, if a bit unorthodox.” Brock slid a hand around his waist, tugging him closer.

  “Was it? You’ll have to be more clear on the rules.”

  “I worried way less about the rules this time. I blame you.” A barrage of curses came from the one man who lay prone by the lake, the other two still up in the trees. Brock dropped a casual kiss on Connor’s lips before walking over to stare down at the guy. “Problem?”

  “Let me go, motherfucker! I’ll fucking kill you!”

  “Is that an and or an or? It’s an important distinction?” Brock nudged the guy with the toe of his boot. Taunting. Connor kinda liked it.

  It sorta made for a pleasant distraction, if you thought about it.

  Not only that, Brock was hot when he was being all alpha and shit.

  “You miserable fuck! You let my bear loose.”

  Brock studied the guy as if he was a bug. “Maybe you ought to rethink statements like that, buddy. It will go better for you in court.”

  “Court? What the fuck are you talking about, asshole? You attacked me!”

  “Nope. I didn’t. You tripped and hit your head while trying to catch a bear. I simply restrained you. Right, Ragbone?”

  “Yes, sir. Totally. You might have hurt yourself.”

  “I swear to God, I will kill both of you.” The guy struggled, but zip ties only got tighter when you pulled.

  The crunch of tires over rock sounded, a Fish and Game vehicle pushing through the rough track to the lake. Darius parked and hopped out, shaking his head at the scene. “This the only one?”

  “Two more that were by the water. They’re about ten yards up in the trees.” Brock’s voice was mostly all growl.

  “What’s the official line for my report?” Darius asked.

  Brock bared his teeth, and Connor ducked his head to hide a grin. “They were in the process of trying to bait a black bear into the cage. They lost her, and that was when we moved in to keep them from pursuing it.�
��

  Connor nodded eagerly, corroborating happily. “That’s exactly what happened, y’all. Go us!”

  “They attacked me!”

  “Don’t lie now, you son of a bitch.” He stared down at the poacher, let his cat show, just a little.

  The man fell silent, staring at him with his mouth hanging open. So attractive.

  “You’re willing to sign an affidavit?”

  Brock nodded. “I am.”

  “Good. Now, I have backup coming, so I suggest you skedaddle.” Darius could really glare. “We’ll chat in a few days.”

  Brock just grinned, looking unrepentant. “Taco time.”

  “Woo! Let’s hasta!” Connor bounced off up the track, feeling Tiggerish. Adrenaline made him hungry and horny.

  Brock followed, laughing softly. Silly wolf.

  “So do you think they have churros? I love churros.”

  “They have cinnamon doolies and empanadas.”

  Connor loved that Brock knew his taco joint menus by heart. It proved the man knew what was important in life.

  “That works for me.” He was more into the crunchy goodness than not.

  “Cool.” They jogged back to the truck, both of them feeling the urgency to get out of the area. The she-bear had to be long gone by now. Brock grabbed him once they both sat in the cab and dragged him across the console for a hard kiss.

  Looked like he wasn’t the only one who got horny after a fistfight.

  Brock pulled back, panting. “Damn, honey. That was fun as hell. You are a truly bad influence.”

  “I’m an angel, you know that. Innocent. Sweet. Harmless.” Pointed on all sides.

  “Isn’t that a snowflake?” Brock chuckled before getting them moving. “Here, look up cabin rentals, will you? We’ll grab tacos and a couple of days’ worth of food, but I want your ass in a place I can make you scream.”

  Connor’s cheeks went white-hot from pleasure, and he took the phone, clicking fast. “Grand Mesa Lodge is listed as Cedaredge. That’s on this side, isn’t it?” The signs seemed to say so.

  “That works for me.” Brock shot him a look that was pure magma.

  “We need to get the tacos to go. We can always run back into town for groceries later.”