BA Tortuga Just Like Cats and Dogs

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Just Like Cats & Dogs - 1

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living
or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of
either the author or the publisher.

Just Like Cats & Dogs
TOP SHELF
An imprint of Torquere Press Publishers
PO Box 2545
Round Rock, TX 78680
Copyright 2011 by BA Tortuga
Cover illustration by Alessia Brio
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-560-7
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to
reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form
whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright
Law. For information address Torquere Press. Inc., PO
Box 2545, Round Rock, TX 78680.
First Torquere Press Printing: September 2011
Printed in the USA

Just Like Cats & Dogs - 2

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Just Like Cats and Dogs

BA Tortuga

Chapter One

"Julianne, I swear by all you hold holy, if you don't

hold your arms up through the end of the phrase, I will
tear your hair out!"

Sam snarled softly, baring his teeth at the girl until

she nodded. He had three more days with this show --
just three, and then he had a well-deserved sabbatical.
Three months with nothing to do but nap and eat,
possibly travel. Have Ma and Pop out to the city for a
long weekend. No pouty dancers, no bitchy directors, no
issues with injuries or costumes or lighting.

Just him and the world.
Luscious.
"No, Ben. Not like that. On three, do you understand?

This is not brain surgery. You've been performing it
right for eight weeks, why stop now?"

Assholes.
"Sam? I'm sorry to interrupt." The director's second

assistant, Flavio, knew him well, knew he hated to be
thrown off. "You have a call. Family emergency."

"Yeah? Okay. Work through the next few bars,

people. I'll be right back. "

Family emergency? Shit. Had to be one of the ones

he liked, to know he never turned his cell on at work.

He stalked to the phone in the office, grabbed it up.

"Hello?"

"Samuel?" His mother. She sounded... Well, she was

crying, which never happened. "I need you to come
home, sweetie."

"Okay, Ma. What happened?" He grabbed his iPhone,

started searching. Flights. Car.

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"Pop... He's. He. Oh, God, Samuel. He died this

morning."

The world stopped, going gray around the edges.

"No."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I -- there was no time to get

everyone here. It just happened so fast..." She gulped.

"What happened?" His pop? Gone? The man was the

center of the world to his mom and all of their widely
varied kids. He found a flight into El Paso leaving in
two hours and booked it, then started texting people.

"Doc thinks it was a stroke. A really big one. He

never even felt it." He heard someone murmuring in the
background, the voice a low rumble. His baby brother,
Ben, he'd bet. "Oh, God. Your sisters are already wailing
and gnashing, Sam."

"I'll be there by early morning. My flight gets in at

midnight. I'll take care of it." He headed for his satchel,
then hit the door, not even bothering to say goodbye in
person.

"I know you will, sweetie. I'm so sorry. That I had to

call like this, I mean."

"Don't be. I'll be there soon. I love you, yeah?" No

matter what other weirdness there was, there was always
that.

"I love you, Samuel. I'll see you soon."
That was his mom. Solid, steady, even when she was

hysterical. Now it was just her.

Well, her, him and his twelve sisters and five

brothers.

God.
He flagged down a cab. He had to get home, grab

clothes, then get to the airport.

Now.
His mom needed him.

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Chapter Two

Gus watched his mom and brother packing up

casseroles and soup bones and all manner of shit to take
over to Mona's. Jesus, he couldn't believe that Pop Finn
was dead. The man was a fucking fixture in their neck of
the woods, and everyone loved the guy, even if they
disagreed with him.

"Are you coming, Gus?" His mom pushed her crazy

red hair behind one ear. She was that way as a wolf, too,
with a deep, reddish coat and one floppy ear. Pete was
just the same way, and it used to pissed Gus off, when
they were kids, that he looked like Dad, all shaggy and
brown and shit.

"I'm not sure, Mom." He smiled wryly. "I didn't

always get on with all the Finns."

"You don't say." Her lips twisted in a half grin. "It's

been fifteen years. You're coming."

"Yeah." He shook his head. This wasn't about his

issues. Pop Finn had been a good man, a solid man.
Hell, that family had adopted every fucking stray that
came across their land for the last forty years, up to and
including a bunch of rowdy pups who just needed a
place to blow off steam. He wasn't sure turkey casserole
was an adequate expression of how they all felt, but he
guessed it would do. He helped his mom carry
everything out to the truck, getting it packed so it
wouldn't slide around and spill.

"I'll take my truck, too, in case one of us needs to stay

or something." Right, because baby brother Pete had a
serious hard on for Lizzie -- the second to the youngest
of Finn girls.

"Asshole." He grinned when Pete flipped him off.

Gus did love fucking with people when he was home.

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"You two behave or I'll beat you both." Mom hopped

into the truck. "Get your ass in here, son."

Gus climbed into the driver's seat, bumping off

toward the Finn's place.

"I want you to be nice to that boy while we're there."
"What boy?" All of the Finn kids were too old to be

boys and girls.

"Augustus..."
"What?" He grinned. "Oh, you mean the pussy."
"Augustus Fieri, I will beat your heinie!"
"Yeah, yeah. I'll be good." He would. Unless pussy

boy was an ass. In which case, he'd kick the lanky little
fuck into next week. Yeah, the beating sounded like a
good plan. He grinned, which made his mom pop him
on the arm. "Ow!"

"Stop it. You have evil in your eyes. That poor boy

was Pete's best friend, even if he was different."

"You know, I want to know why everyone assumes it

was my fault we didn't get along." It was offensive.
Really.

She just looked at him. A lot. With her eyes.
Okay, so he'd bitten Sam. Chased him. Growled.

Treed the little fuck once. They'd been boys. Boys did
that. Just like Sam had scratched his leg so bad once that
he'd had to get stitches. Had shredded Gus' favorite
jacket in high school.

And that didn't even count the time someone who'd

never been caught had put Nair in his conditioner.

God, he didn't want to do this. He hated funerals and

gatherings for funerals and planning shit like that. He
could be in a tourmaline mine somewhere...

"Thank you for coming out with me. I can't believe

Michael died during the gathering."

"Yeah." Gus rolled his eyes. The gathering. It made it

sound like a movie. They all got together during the

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harvest moon, once a year. It wasn't sinister or anything;
it was a damned family reunion kind of thing.

"Do you... You and Petey, you'd be okay without me,

right?"

"Don't even think it, Mom." He wasn't going to

ponder it too hard.

"It's going to happen sometime, son."
"I know, Mom, but I could just as easily get

smooshed in a cave-in." He shrugged. "We'd survive,
but I won't lie and say it would be easy."

She vocalized softly, petting his arm. "Well, I hope

not. You ought to miss me a little."

"Stop it." Gus couldn't help but growl some. It had

been him and Petey and Mom against the world for a
long time. He'd miss her like a lost limb.

"I think we should go to Burger King after we pay

our respects."

"I think that's a great idea." Meat. Ketchup. Yum. He

even liked fried potatoes.

"Me, too. Pete will be busy sniffing after that pretty

little girl, so we can duck out." Mom winked at him.

"There you go." He patted her leg, knowing she

needed contact as much as he did. "I'd miss the hell out
of you, Mom."

She nodded, sighed softly. "Poor Mona."
"She has all those kids, huh?" What, eighteen? Lord.
"Yeah. Sam sends money home to her, so do Gray

and Helena."

"She'll make it." She had to. The greater pack really

wouldn't know what to do without Mona Finn.

They pulled into the drive, the place filled with trucks

and cars and SUVs. Everyone had turned out. Gus felt a
little queasy, but Petey was right there in front of them,
and he came to help their mom out of the truck. "I'll be
along in a minute, okay?"

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"Sure, honey. I'll be inside with Mona."
He walked around the side of the house, needing

some air, something. He turned the corner and ran
smack dab into someone, the two of them crashing
together.

"Shit!" He stumbled, but instinctively tried to catch

whoever it was. Gus knew he was big. He could do
some damage. "Sorry."

"No problem." The voice was soft, slinky, pure sex

somehow, making his hair stand up on end.

He stepped back to look at the man, because it was

definitely a male, and his eyes widened. "Pussy boy?"

One black eyebrow arched impossibly over a bottle

green eye, then he was flying, back hitting the ground
before his fucking chin started hurting from the kick it
had received.

Shiny black boots appeared by his head, only for a

second. "Indeed."

Then they were gone.
Holy fuck. Gus sure didn't know where Sam Finn had

learned to kick like that, but damn. That was something.

Kinda hot, too.
Somehow, the whole funeral thing had just gotten a

lot more interesting.

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Chapter Three

Sam headed inside, finding a smile for his mom as he

saw her.

"You okay, son?" She was sitting, holding Hallie

Fieri's hand, eyes wet.

"Fine. Nice to see you, Hallie. Is Pete around?"
"He went to find Lizzie, I think. He doesn't know

you're here, honey." Hallie nodded, giving him a fond
look.

"If you see him, let him know to say hello."
Pete had been his best friend the entire time he was

growing up. Goofy, dorky, and the world's biggest
puppy -- the man had been a hoot. Too bad his older
brother was a blithering moron with the class of a
toothless hillbilly. Sam had really hoped not to see Gus.
Or, if he had to, that he'd discover Gus had become a
balding, paunchy, one-eyebrowed Neanderthal knuckle
dragger.

Too bad neither one had happened.
"Oh, he's here somewhere." She waved her free hand

and went back to talking to Ma.

Sam wandered, pondering how unfair it was that Gus

was a stud. Just the short glimpse he'd had before trying
to kick the man's teeth in had proved that -- stacked,
dark and hot as hell.

The kick had felt pretty damned good, though, really.

Almost as good as the shock on Fuzzy's face.

His sister Helena grabbed his arm, blue eyes wide.

"Sam, all these men are sniffing around me. I thought
everyone knew I don't change."

He wrapped one arm around his sister, bared his teeth

at the pup at her heels. "They're opportunists, lovely.
I've got you."

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"Thanks." She nuzzled in, scenting him. "It's good to

see you, Sam."

"Same here, lovely. How's Chicago treating you?"

They were the closest in age -- him and Helena, with
Gray immediately following -- and one of Sam's fondest
memories was Pop bringing Helena in for the first time,
a tiny, red headed girl holding his finger.

"Good. Good. The newspaper is going more and

more electronic, so I'm all the rage now." Helena did
something very complicated with information
technology. Sam was incredibly proud in that I don't
understand a bit of it way. "How's the show coming?"

"Exceptional. The director's wailing and gnashing his

teeth, but I'd done my work. I'm about to take a three
month sabbatical." A long vacation away from the
drama and the fighting and the city. He sighed, the
sound purely internal. Who was he kidding? He was
planning to lock himself up in his apartment and watch
hours of television -- he thought he'd start with Mad
Men, then Criminal Minds, ending with a long marathon
of True Blood. The idea of Southern vampires made him
smile.

"Well, that's good. You have some time." She leaned

and sighed, watching people mill about.

"Yeah." The twins were still in full wailing and

gnashing of teeth mode, and both still furious at them --
them being him, Helena, and Gray, the only logical,
rational children out of eighteen.

Then there were all the strangers. Pop just had to die

during full gathering.

"Sam!" His best friend detached from a group that

did not include Lizzie. "How's it hanging, man?"

"Petey!" He braced himself for the pounce, the hugs.

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He got them, Pete still like an overgrown puppy that

way. Otherwise, he was all man now, as broad and
brawny as his asshole brother.

Sam slapped Pete on the back, chuckling softly.

"How's it going, asshole?"

"Good. I mean, it was. I'm sorry, man. About your

dad."

"Yeah." He wasn't going to get into it, not here, not

now.

"How's the big city?" Pete asked.
"Big. Bright. You should come visit me."
"I should come see a show." Pete had come to New

York once, back when Sam was a starving artist living
in a garret. He'd never come back.

"Any time, man. You still working at the mine?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I've actually taken over operations here.

Gus has itchy feet."

"And a bruised chin." And didn't that make him

happy?

"Huh?" Pete raised a brow.
He grinned, tickled down to his bones. "Nothing.

You married yet?"

"Huh?" Had Pete forgotten how to say anything but

'huh'? "God, no. I mean, I'm working on it."

"Good for you." He met Helena's eyes. God, he really

needed to get out of here. Really.

"Why don't you go see if Ma needs anyone to run to

the store?" Helena smiled, pushing him a bit toward the
kitchen again.

"Yeah. See you, Pete." He headed out for his rental

car; he'd call Mom from the store.

He almost ran someone down again, the acrid smell

of cigarette smoke stinging his eyes. Gus again. His
growl was deep, immediate, but he stopped it as soon as
he could. Just get to the truck.

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"I'm sorry about your dad." The words stopped him

in his tracks. They were probably the most sincere Gus
had ever said to him.

A yowl built up inside him, but he didn't let it out. He

wouldn't. Not here. Not yet. Sam nodded, swallowing
hard so that he could speak. "Thank you."

"You need anything? I was gonna head out, go to the

store. Mom wants Puffs and waterproof mascara."

"I'll get some. Ma has a list." He couldn't do this.
"I could go with you."
The offer left him staring, his mouth hanging open a

bit. "Why would you want to?"

"Because I hate this shit."
"Yeah." He didn't say more than that; he just walked

to the driveway and tried to remember which rental car
was his.

The Lexus, the Infiniti, or the... Well, the SUV was

definitely Helena's.

Gus followed. "My truck's just over here."
"Yeah? Okay." Weird, but okay.
Gus didn't say much, which he was grateful for. The

man just drove. The cab of the truck smelled strongly of
man and wolf, gamey and yet not offensive. All he
needed to do was sit, keep his mouth shut, and not have
a meltdown. Easy.

"So, you look different, man." That was the

understatement of the year.

He sighed. "I grew up."
"You did." Gus shrugged, not looking at him. "Good

on you."

"I was hoping you'd gone bald." Gotten warts, lost his

teeth…

That seemed to surprise Gus, but in a good way. The

man laughed right out loud. "Sorry to disappoint."

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He chuckled softly, hand rubbing the back of his

neck. Shit, he was tired.

"Pete's after your sister, you know."
"I have twelve of them. Three of them have fucked

the man. I'm not surprised."

"My brother, the skanky ho." Gus chuckled some

more, and Sam had a feeling he'd just handed over a
goodly bit of brotherly ammunition.

"You married?" He grabbed his phone, texted Helena

for his grocery list.

"Hell, no. I'm queer, man. I always have been."
"Oh." Huh. No wonder the man had been such a

fucker. It was tough to be so manly and growly and be
queer, right?

"Yeah. I figured you knew. You were the gayest

thing in the world."

"You don't know that I don't have a wife and ten

kids." Asshole.

Now Gus did glance over, the look one of complete

disbelief. "Oh, right."

"Are you suggesting I'm not the paragon of manly

virtue?" This was almost fun.

"No, I'm saying you had a mouth made to suck cock

even then."

Sam stared. Well, what the fuck was he supposed to

say to that?

Gus snorted. "I was the one in denial, Puss."
"Well, good for you. I would have thought you'd be

shooting for alpha."

"Shit, no. I'm never here, really."
They were out on the highway now, and Gus still

drove too fast. He found himself tensing; he didn't even
own a fucking car in the city.

"You okay?" Asshole knew how tense he was.

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"Fine." His nails were digging into the palms of his

hands.

"Cool." Gus took the big curve on the way into town

on two wheels, and a low, scared snarl started growing
inside him. Was the crazy son of a bitch trying to get
him killed?

They hit the straightaway, and Gus was grinning like

a fool.

Sam focused on calm. Breathing.
Not committing murder.
Fucker.
"So, are you gonna call and get a list or hold your

phone all day?"

"I'm going to hold my fucking phone."
Asshole.
Fuckhead.
Dickmonkey.
"'Kay." That grin got wider. Now he knew why Gus

had wanted to drive him into town. Too bad for Gus he
wasn't a teenager anymore.

Helena sent him a list of random shit, and he forced

himself to text her back, ignore Gus altogether. He could
do this.

They made it to the Wal-Mart without anyone dying,

so that seemed good.

Sam slipped out of the truck as soon as it swung into

the space, stalked into the store, teeth bared at the little
greeter. He was not in the mood.

"Hey, Barbara Ann."
"Hey, Gus. Wasn't that Finn's weird one?"
Sam spun around, his growl tearing out of him, and

he backed the wee pup up three steps. "Indeed. Is there a
problem?" If there was, he could just tear her throat out
now and deal with it.

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"No, honey. You just didn't say hi, so I wasn't sure."

The old lady smiled at him before her face slipped into
sympathy mode. "I'm sorry about your daddy."

"Everyone is."
Potatoes. Tissues. Toilet paper. Chips. Doritos,

olives, and chocolate for a quiet, private stoner party
with Helena and Gray late tonight.

Gus didn't chastise him, which surprised him. The

man just followed, putting stuff in a separate basket.

He did his shopping without a word. No one spoke to

him, either. No surprise, really. He thought he'd spent
eighteen years in town without any of these fuckers
acknowledging him. Gus everyone spoke to. Gus mostly
growled in return. Looked like Mr. Perfect wasn't so
socially adept.

Sam paid for the groceries, his hackles raised, his

teeth actually pushing at his lips.

"Come on." Gus yanked him out of the store. "You

live in a city?"

"Yes." And he needed to go back where he was just

another dark haired asshole.

"If folks make you that mad, how do you do it?"
He looked over, confused. "Do what?"
"Live around all of them? I mean, you obviously hate

people."

About a dozen answers tried to claw their way up his

throat, but he clawed them back. "No. I just have a
problem with close-minded, prejudicial asshole fucks so
lost in the pack structure that they can't manage an
original thought."

"Well, don't hold back, Puss. Tell me how you really

feel." Gus was laughing at him. Laughing.

He placed the bags in the back of Gus' truck,

carefully, the animal in him desperately close, in true

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agony that went beyond any physical pain he'd ever felt.
How he really felt?

"I miss my father, you classless piece of shit."
The change took him hard, and he let it, leaving Gus,

the Wal-Mart, his clothes.

Everything.
He just let the beast have him, and he ran.

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Chapter Four

"He'll be back, Mom." Gus had shown up at the Finn

house with all of the groceries and Sam's clothes, but no
Sam. He was being roundly chastised for it.

Helena snapped restlessly. "I swear, Gus, if I find out

you thrashed his ass again, I'll have your balls, no
offense, ma'am."

"I didn't touch the little fuck." He'd wanted to. Oh, he

had wanted to, just before the little shit had gone feral.
God, Sam had grown up so fucking fine. He'd just
stared.

Now he was paying the price. If one more woman

shook the naughty boy finger at him, he might just run
off howling himself.

"He'll be fine. Y'all just leave him alone." Gray

walked in, the dark glasses hiding the man's white eyes.
"Helena, go let the twins out of the storm cellar and tell
them the wailing stops now."

"Sure." Helena headed out, and the other women

drifted off, save his mom.

Gus rolled his head on his neck. "I didn't touch him."
Gray grunted. "He's not a child, Gus. At this point, I'd

bet against you in a fight, and I'd stake my life on the
fact that you'd have more than the bruise Helena tells me
you have on your chin if you did tie it up with him."

Gus grinned a little. "You haven't seen how well I

grew up, Gray." Sam was good, he'd grant that. Fast.

"Don't worry about him. He'll come home, and me

and Helena will have his back."

"I know that." Gus sighed. "Tell Petey he has to drive

my mom home, will you? I'm going to the mine."

"Sure. If he can't, someone will."
"Thanks." He turned on his heel and left. Gus knew

that the truth was that he was the one who didn't like

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people. They didn't particularly like him, either. He was
much better at digging up pretty rocks.

He headed out, growling at the misfits who thanked

him for coming. Jesus, why couldn't they have adopted
normal cubs? Eighteen of them and not a whole, normal
one in the bunch. Even Lizzie changed on the new moon
as well as the full.

He climbed into his truck for the umpteenth time that

day, needing to be gone. Alone.

Until he saw a black figure streak through the

underbrush, moving faster than his eyes could really see.
Hello, kitty. Gus sat and watched, waiting to see if a
human Sam appeared. It would be worth it to see the
fool naked again.

He heard the low yowl, the sound tearing through the

air. A mourning call. The urge to howl in return rose in
him, and Gus gripped the steering wheel, fighting it. It
wasn't his family.

Howls filled the air, though. Dozens of them.
Yeah. Yeah, it was the whole pack's loss, wasn't it?

Gus stepped out of his truck, tipping his head up and
joining the song. He let the change take him with it.

Suddenly his pack -- all of them -- surrounded him,

mourning and howling, crying out. In the doorway of
Mona's house there were her human children, her pups
caught between wolf and man. All of them surrounding
their mother. All of them but Sam.

Gus scented the air, which was hard as surrounded as

he was. Still, a cat would stand out.

Sam was there, down-wind, out of sight of the others.
How much did it suck for the man to not even feel at

home with his own family?

Gus left the truck for his mom, left his clothes, and

went past Sam like a shot. He barked an invitation on
the way. Run. Run with me.

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He didn't hear anything following him, but his

instincts insisted he was being hunted, followed, chased.
Letting his tongue loll, he put on a burst of speed,
veering off into the scrub brush and desert, leaping an
arroyo. He heard the wild screech behind him, the sound
echoing deep in his spine.

Gus knew how it felt to lose someone, even if no one

in the pack really knew it. He knew that sometimes the
only way to beat back the rage was to run it out of your
body. He also knew that Sam was the eldest child, the
first, and that the man had loved his father. Adored him.

So they ran.
They ran, Gus changing directions and heading to the

mine. He had food there. Water. Blankets. Sam followed
him, claws digging into the earth as they moved
together. It felt amazing to stretch his legs. Most of the
pack couldn't keep up with him, couldn't understand
why he didn't challenge the alpha. Like he wanted that
load on him.

Sam could keep up, though, the black, sleek form

moving like the wind itself.

Gus barked his joy, leaping over rocks and small

mesquite, the dry air starting to take its toll. The mine
was only a few more miles. The feline scent was
intriguing, so mixed with canine, with pack, that it
smelled right.

He put on a final burst of speed, daring Sam to be as

good at this as he was, to try to best him once. Or once
more, when he thought about his chin. When the shadow
running with him passed him by, he wanted to howl.
Look at that tail...

Sam leapt atop some rocks, snarl splitting the air,

triumphant.

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Gus rose up on his hind legs and barked,

acknowledging the feat. Then he turned and headed for
the mine. Meat. Water.

Sam followed him, carefully, staying out of range of

his muzzle.

He led the way into the small bolthole entrance to the

mine, not wanting to take a chance on running into
someone.

Sam got to the entrance, sniffed, stared at him.
He barked, encouraging. He'd share.
Sam followed, cautious, slinking into the darkness.
He led the way, knowing Sam would be able to

follow easily. He had a little place set aside in the mine,
a little bit of only him. He led Sam to his den, the place
good-smelling, home. There were blankets on the floor,
cushions, a cot for when he was a man. There was water.
Food.

Sam stretched, long and sleek and black.
Gus resisted the urge to go and have a sniff. He didn't

figure that would go over well.

Sam's nose twitched, green eyes heavy on him. There

were clothes. He wondered if maybe he should go
human, let Sam see he was ready to eat. Sam stepped
closer, whiskers tickling him.

He yawned, the sound loud and surprising. Well, at

least he hadn't sneezed. Sam chuffed softly, then
plopped to the ground, tail over his nose.

Well, that answered that. Gus gave Sam a lupine grin

before going to one of the piles of blankets to curl up. A
nap sounded good.

Sam's purrs sounded, filling the air as he fell asleep.
Maybe the guy could get some rest.
Gus snorted, wrapping his tail over his nose, just like

Sam had. If he found it ironic that he was the one to help

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Puss out, well, there was no one there to notice but
them. That was okay with him.

And he knew Sam. The man could keep a secret.

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Chapter Five

He woke up suddenly, shivering and bare, bitterly

cold. Fuck. Fuck. He hadn't gone feral in years.

Sam changed, sure. Like clockwork. In the comfort

and glory and safety of his apartment. His apartment
was a playground for a werekitty.

Not like this.
The place was underground, only a tiny light

glowing. It smelled like wolf, but it wasn't offensive. He
rubbed his skin, trying to warm up. Man, he needed his
fur back.

"There's blankets. You want a drink of water?" He

almost jumped out of his skin; he'd forgotten about Gus.

"Yeah. Yeah, sorry. Please." His teeth were

chattering. "Where are we?"

"In the mine. We came in the back way." Gus

wrapped a blanket around him, then handed over a bottle
of water.

"Thanks." He drank deep, belly so empty he could

hear the liquid hitting his stomach. A mine. Cool.

"No problem. There's some snacks, too, when you're

ready."

"I think I probably could eat an entire deer." Whole.

Raw.

"Yeah? We could hunt, but that would take awhile."

A lamp got turned up, throwing light on Gus, who wore
sweats and a long-sleeved t-shirt. "I have a bunch of
cold chicken, though, and some turkey casserole stuff
my mom made."

"Sounds good." It was a little unnerving, Gus being

nice to him.

"You run really well." That sounded a little grudging,

making him smile.

"I weigh less than you and have bigger paws."

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"Yeah, yeah. I have more stamina, though." Gus

winked, the expression so friendly it almost knocked
Sam over.

"You all do." He'd not been allowed to run with the

pack, of course. "But I have the leaping thing."

"True." Gus grinned, the expression pure evil. "You'd

get the jump on me, for sure."

He finished off the water, stretching out a little. "I

would." He still wasn't exactly sure how he'd ended up
here.

"Here." He got a hunk of meat handed over, cold

chicken, but it tasted like heaven. The cat surged up in
him again, surprising him, and he pushed it back. Easy.
Easy.

One of Gus' heavy brows climbed on his forehead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I just... I'm cool." Cucumber cool.
"Well, I'm not picky. If you want to play feed the

kitty, let 'er rip."

He shook his head, focused on the food, feeling his

tail swish, deep inside him.

"Here, man." Gus gave him a whole plate of meat,

along with some casserole, and he wolfed it down. So to
speak.

God, that was good. Damn. He caught himself

purring again, the sound pouring out of him.

"Mmm." Gus was munching away, too, licking

crumbs from the casserole off his lips.

He licked his fingers clean, getting every bit.
"Damn, that was pretty good." Gus nodded,

stretching, the sweats riding low on his hips.

"It was." His voice had gone all raspy.
"You want a beer now that you're feeling human?"

Gus was looking at him again, this time with no smile,
no frown. There was just this... Heat.

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"Yeah. Do you know what time it is?"
"No clue." Gus shrugged. "I doubt anyone will be

looking for you. That was a dramatic exit."

"No. No one will. They know I can take care of

myself."

"Yeah." Gus rubbed his jaw. "I know."
He chuckled softly. "That was fun."
"Fuck you, Puss. It hurt like a son-of-a-bitch."
"Good." Sam let himself smile.
"Asshat." Gus came over with a beer, flopping almost

as bonelessly as a cat next to him.

"Fucker." He sucked the beer down.
"Occasionally. When I get to town."
Wait. What? He couldn't help his stare.
"What? A bigger town I mean. I don't advertise,

man." Gus shrugged, like that was perfectly reasonable.

"Advertise?" He wasn't following.
"In the pack. That I like dick." Gus smiled. "They

want me to alpha up."

"I can see that. You could have a couple of babies

and then do as you wanted." It was the path of least
resistance, that was for sure.

"I could. I'm just not good at doing what they want.

Babies mean staying around."

"True." Not that he knew anything about that.
Gus nudged him. "Not that you care, huh?"
"Care about what? Babies?" He blinked. "Not my

thing."

"No, about what I do, Puss. I think this might be the

longest conversation we've ever had."

"It's definitely the longest one without you hitting

me."

"Or vice versa." Gus rolled an eye in his direction.

"Are you really a dancer?"

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He chuffed softly. "I'm a choreographer now. My...

talents were beginning to show." People had started
asking questions, becoming suspicious, so he faked an
injury and changed directions.

"Leaping kitty." Gus seemed to think that was

hilarious.

"Don't make me bite you." He snapped the air.
"Oh, I might like that." One heavy brow went up and

down again. "Cats have way more bacteria, though."

"Uh-huh. Spiked penises, too." Not that he had one,

but it was fun to tease.

Gus turned his head slowly and stared at Sam. "No

shit?"

"Yeah. I mean, you guys have that... knot thing."
Gus blinked, then laughed. "One more reason not to

date girls."

He let an eyebrow arch higher. "I would think that's

more challenging for a guy. I mean, maybe it's like
fisting, but..."

Now Gus was all but rolling, howling with it. "I've

never fucked a guy furry, Puss."

"Amateur." He let himself grin, chuckle.
"Uh-huh. Cautious."
Somehow cautious and Gus seemed mutually

exclusive. It really wasn't his place to say, though.

"Do you have a mate here? Ma and Pop never said."

He brought them to the city at least once a year for a
long visit. It was one of his favorite... Had been.... Shit.

"No." The word came out flat and hard.
"Sorry." He really wasn't. It wasn't like he had one.

The others of his kind shunned him; he smelled of dog,
no matter how long he lived away, and he wouldn't deny
the wolves that raised him, loved him.

Gus sucked down the last of the beer. "I have Hostess

cupcakes."

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"Go for it." He couldn't taste sweet. It was a feline

thing.

"You don't like cupcakes? Dude." Gus shook his

head. "You want more casserole?"

"Thanks." He took the meat, the salt and spice good,

the rice filling. Dogs.

"No problem." Two cupcakes disappeared in short

order.

God, Gus was pretty. No. Studly. Big and broad and

toothy and strong. Lickable. Whoa. Where did that come
from? No licking.

"You're staring at me."
"Sorry. I'm a little wild eyed."
"Yeah. I get that." Licking his fingers, Gus moaned a

little. "Your loss."

He shook his head. "Not really."
"No? Is this like a cat deal?" Gus ate one more

cupcake. The man could put away the food.

"Yes. We can't taste sweet."
Gus raised a brow. "The human thing doesn't

override it?"

"Nope. I mean, I can tell it tastes different than spicy,

but I don't get sweet."

"Weird. That sucks."
Sam chuckled. Actually, it helped in the sucking

arena. He had a thing for salty and bitter.

"What?" Gus was the one staring now.
"Hmm? I was just thinking about sucking." Wait.
"Yeah? Do tell." Now Gus was staring at his mouth.
"Now, now. You are too much of a pup for that

information."

"A pup?" Gus snorted. "Bullshit. I been all over

town, Puss."

He chuffed softly. Like this town was a challenge.

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"I don't mean our town." Slapping his back, Gus rose

and stretched. Uhn. Pretty.

Sam stood himself, spine popping as he arched.
"You about ready to head back?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd better. Mom will need me." He

sighed. "I don't suppose there are any clothes I can
borrow?"

"Yeah. I got some. They'll be a little big." Gus looked

him over with a surprisingly expert eye.

"That's okay. I can handle that." He tried not to preen.
"I bet." There were some sweats and a t-shirt, and

Gus handed them over.

He only hoped there was transport.

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Chapter Six

Gus grabbed the keys from the office, leading Puss

out to one of the old trucks they used to haul shit around
the mine area. He was kind of amazed that he and Sam
had gotten along for the whole time they'd been
together. Sam had to be stunned by grief. That was the
only explanation.

He'd never actually seen Sam furry before.
Naked? Sure. They'd stripped the man down and

tossed him in the pond a lot when they were teenagers.
Sam would just yowl, hissing and spitting and cussing
them. Cats hated water, after all. At least, sudden
immersion water.

He'd have to try it again one day. Maybe. Oh, damn,

that would be fun. Naked Sam, lots of sunshine... Shit,
when did naked Sam become a good thing and not
something to be mocked?

Sam curled into the truck, so lean, so fine. Gus shook

his head. No thinking of the kitty as fine. No.

"What?"
"Huh? Nothing. Back to your mom's place, huh?" He

started up the truck, easing out on the dirt road.

"Yeah. The service is tomorrow night during your

Gathering."

"Okay. Did I say I was sorry?" He was. Really.
"You did. He was a good man."
"He was." Well, that used up all of his conversational

skills that went beyond 'suck me.'

They headed back to the farm, and Sam's eyes got

bigger and bigger as they drove. Gus kept glancing at
the man, finally unable to hold it in. "What? I'm driving
good this time."

"Huh?" Sam jumped, looked at him. "Oh. No. You're

fine. It's just... we went so far."

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"We did?" Maybe he was used to roaming. The mine

was a run he made a few times a week, honestly. At
least when he was home.

"I did."
"Oh. Oh, okay." Yeah, he guessed he got that. Of all

of them, Sam was the homebody, sorta. Then there was
the whole thing where Puss lived in the city. Really,
what did he do during the moon? Did the kitty just crate
himself? "How do you deal with it? The change? I
mean, in the city?" Whoa, way to blurt it out.

Sam chuckled. "Just like I always have. I just have a

much bigger space. I have a lovely loft, tons of room
and places to jump and climb."

"Ah. Like a kitty tower."
"Yeah. Safe, comfortable." Sam chuckled softly.

"Incredibly expensive."

"No shit. I can't see how you do it. The smells must

drive you crazy."

"Sometimes. Yesterday was wild."
"You need to get out more." He winked over.
Something flashed in Sam's eyes -- something fast

and angry and ugly and pained -- but it went quick and
then it was good. "Moon's coming tomorrow. No one
will have a choice then."

"True." Gus tilted his head. "You need someone to

run with, you holler. I can keep the pack straight."

"Thanks."
They pulled into the driveway and parked, the place

mostly empty. Gray was on the porch, strumming a
guitar, with a half dozen puppies milling around him.

"No problem. Look, it looks like my people went on

home, so I guess I'll head out." He didn't want to get
snarled at by the brother again.

"Thanks for the ride, man. I appreciate it."

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"No problem." What was he supposed to say? Call

me? Gus watched Sam get out of the truck and go to
stand next to his brother on the porch.

Then he peeled out of the Finn's drive in a

spectacular cloud of dust, like only a rebel would.

He had a reputation to live up to, after all.

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Chapter Seven

The Pack was coming as soon as the moon came, so

Sam went to the barn, rested his hand on the coffin. The
wolves would mourn Pop tonight, bury him tomorrow
before the moon turned again. He needed his minute to
say goodbye.

"Gonna miss you, Poppy. You and Ma are the best of

your kind, and you raised some good pups."

"Some shitty ones, too." Helena's hand landed on his

back. "I hate the full moon."

He nodded. "Me too."
"I can't believe he's gone."
He nodded again, his head hurting so badly. "Me,

either."

She rested her forehead against his shoulder, sniffling

a little bit, and they stood there. Sam wasn't surprised at
all when Gray wandered in, slow and careful.

"Knew I'd find you together."
Sam smiled. "Knew you'd come find us."
Gray's arms wrapped around them both, the man

huge, strong, and so gentle. "Where else would I go?
You're my sibs."

Helena sobbed once, then stomped her foot, refusing,

as always, to show weakness. "I need a beer, boys, in the
worst way."

Sam nodded. "Let's do it, then, before the sun sets.

They'll all expect you to be out there with them."

Gray growled under his breath, teeth baring. "You're

his oldest son. You, Sam. Not me. You're the first. You
should have always been allowed to be there."

It was an ancient argument, one that had left Gray

bleeding from a bite more than once.

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"I'm not, though, and you know it." Not with the

Pack, not with his own kind. Three nights a month, he
was an outcast. He was used to it. Mostly.

"This is not getting me a beer." Helena sniffed again,

but this time it was more of a snort.

"Picky old bitch." They laughed together, and he kept

one arm around each of his sibs, sparing one last look at
the coffin.

Gonna miss you, Poppy. Tons.
Then they headed inside.

***

The pack Gathered at the Finn place, all of them

silently padding into the clearing behind the house, the
moon shining down on them like the mother she was.
Gus tucked his ears a little, curling his lip at a big male
he'd hated since they were pups. He didn't want any one
sniffing around tonight. He was feeling uncomfortable
in his fur.

The family was standing around the coffin, wolves

and humans and some caught in-between, mourning.
Gus stayed back, making his own peace with it, saying
goodbye to the wind instead of the corpse.

The Alpha went to Mona, touched her muzzle, then

touched Gray's, acknowledging the male as the head of
the family. Gray's muzzle turned away from James,
toward the house, toward where Sam was locked away.

Gus almost howled. The urge surprised the hell out of

him.

Gray did howl, the sound sharp, angry, fierce. Gus

answered, drawing surprised stares. He got it. Sam was
the oldest son. It wasn't fair.

The Alpha growled, and Gray bristled, his family

surrounding them. It was Helena that snapped, her still-

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human voice flashing out. "Stop it. Right now. You're
hurting Mom's feelings."

Everyone backed down, Gray still bristling but going

to put his muzzle against his mother's. Gus couldn't
handle any more. He wandered off around the back of
the house.

He could smell Sam, on the porch, on the door,

everywhere. His nose vibrated, and Gus started to follow
the smell, just wandering. Inside, through the kitchen, up
the stairs. He wandered deeper into the old house, paws
padding on the floor. In the back, down a long hall.
There. A door.

A heavy, scratched door.
He'd never been up here. Unlike Pete, he'd never

been in the charmed circle of the Finn oddball kids. He'd
always been the bully. The scent of Sam was strong,
sunk deep into the wood, and he heard a low, warning
growl.

Gus gave an answering bark, not aggressive, just a

greeting. The sound of claws on the door hit him, then
Sam's voice, calling to him.

They'd locked him in. Or maybe they'd locked

themselves out. Didn't matter. Puss shouldn't have to be
alone.

A heavy, heavy black paw pushed under the door,

claws stretching.

Tongue lolling, Gus laughed a lupine laugh. There

was no way he was going to be able to change back right
now, not during the Gathering. He could surprise the
kitty, though. He pounced on that paw a little, growling
playfully. The paw disappeared, the wild, rolling purr
making him bounce. His butt went up, his head went
down, and he wagged, waiting for the paw to reappear.
Gus saw the shadow of the motion before the paw itself.
Oh. Playing. He loved playing.

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Barking like mad, he bounced some more, then

nibbled at the offered paw. Fun!

Sam yowled, claws scrabbling on the floor, reaching

for him. He slammed against the door without thinking
about it. He wanted to chase that tail. The door trembled
on its hinges, and Sam yowled again, paws slapping the
inside. Gus threw himself against the door again, just
howling. The wood was going, he could hear it ripping.
Sam was yowling, making these guttural, amazing
sounds. He could hear those big paws battering at the
other side.

Out! Out! Play!
He hit again, and the door splintered, the huge, sleek

cat standing there, covered in wood bits.

Gus chuffed out a wolfy laugh before pouncing Sam's

head. Bam. The sleek body twisted under him, then
disappeared, appearing again on his back. Oof.

Gus shook, sending Sam flying. Then he took off,

tearing into the room that had just opened up to him.
The feline smell was everywhere, and he ran around,
sticking his nose in corners, jumping on the big bed.

Ew.
Dust.
Sneeze.
He barked, looking back beyond his tail to see where

Sam had gone. He heard Sam's yowl just a heartbeat
before the huge, black flash jumped him.

Oh! Oh, too fun. They rolled off the bed, banging

into the wall. Gus nipped at that lashing tail before
taking off. He heard Sam's pads chasing him around the
room, then there was a huge thump on the tall wardrobe.
Gus blinked, turning to look, hoping Sam hadn't run into
it and hurt himself.

Where was he? He sniffed, frowned, searched for

Sam. The scent was too strong everywhere. Gus couldn't

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figure it. He caught the flicking tail in the corner of his
eye.

Up. The bastard had gone up. Gus backed up, his butt

right against the wardrobe. The angle would be bad that
way to jump him.

He looked up into a wedge shaped face peering

down. "Rowl."

Gus barked, taunting a little, his tail waving like a

flag. Those eyes latched on to his tail, watching it. Gus
turned in a full circle, letting Sam get a three-sixty view.
Silly Puss.

He saw those muscles tense, felt the buzz on the back

of his neck that meant that he was being hunted. Gus
wiggled, pushing the limit of any cat's patience. The
sounds Sam made were amazing -- wild and huge and
fierce.

He finally sprang out of the shadow of the cupboard,

giving kitty a target no one could resist, and Sam hit him
square on, slamming into his flank and taking him
down. A yelp slid from his throat before he could hold it
back, and his butt hit the floor with a thud. He tried to
get up, but someone was gnawing on him.

It was more meditative than aggressive, Sam's huge

paws wrapped around him.

If he was his human self, he would probably like it.
He wasn't, though, so he spun and pounced, growling

happily as he nibbled on Sam's soft belly fur. Pretty
kitty. Tasty, too.

Heavy paws swatted his ears, batting at him, playing.

They spilled back out into the hall, both of them rolling
to their feet.

A sharp warning bark sounded, two of the big males

standing there in the hallway, bristling. Sam went still,
staring, a low, eerie sound filling the air. Gus' hackles
rose, and he pushed his way in between Sam and the two

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wolves, growling low. Sam was allowed to fucking play
in his own family house.

He heard Sam's momma howling, heard Gray's big

voice answering her. This was fucked up.

Terrance bared his teeth, eyes intent on Sam. Another

growl came from behind, then a yowl and a screech as
someone attacked Sam from the opposite side of the
hall.

Shit. Shit. Gus set up a howl, calling for the family,

before he laid into the one who had Sam in his teeth.

Fur was flying, teeth and claws and howls, the entire

pack in an uproar. The Alpha waded in, along with Gray
and the others, and suddenly Sam leapt, settling on the
top of the wardrobe. Terrance yowled when the Alpha
took him down, and silence fell on them like a ton of
bricks. Everyone but their Alpha went deathly quiet.

Bright green eyes stared down, and Sam screamed,

the sound making his hackles raise.

Goddamn, but it was ugly until Sam's momma

walked into the room, human as anything, wearing her
bathrobe, cheeks streaked with tears. "Out. All of you
who are not my children. I want you out."

Helena was right there, a shotgun in her hand,

cocking it. "You heard her. You assholes go away."

One by one, herded by James, they all left. Gus didn't

want to go; he wanted to make sure Sam was okay.

He went to the wardrobe, yipping. Come down, now.

Sam looked at him, mewling softly. Gus barked sharply,
his tail wagging.

"Samuel, you come down. Gus? You need to let

Helena patch your side." God, Mona was fierce.

Gus turned to look at his side, and sure enough he

was bleeding. Huh.

Sam hopped down, a bite on the black face, another

on the shoulder.

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"Oh, son." Mona came to Sam, vocalizing softly.
Gus had to fight the urge to growl at her a little. He

wanted to go clean Sam's wounds, which was silly.
Okay, ow. Helena was a sucktastic nurse.

Sam danced away when Mona came at him with the

peroxide, and Helena chuckled. "No biting, puppy."

Puppy? Gus snorted, nudging her hard with his

shoulder. Silly girl. Just like her brother.

Helena rubbed his ears. "Thanks for taking up for

Sam."

Oh. Oh, that felt good. His eyes crossed, his back leg

lifting to thump on the floor.

"Oh, right there." Helena chuffed softly, kept petting

him.

Yeah. Yeah, there. A sharp bite to his tail had him

yelping, and he turned whip fast to stare at Sam, who
looked like a smug kitty. Sam chuffed softly, one huge
paw brushing over the flattened nose.

Gus let his tongue loll. Asshole. Pretty damned cat.

No wonder Pete liked him so much.

"I'm going to have to stitch your side up, son. I'll

leave your face for the morning."

Ouch. Gus let Helena have at him, finally, figuring he

was lucky he didn't need stitches. He hated those.

Sam sighed and slumped down, idly mouthing his

tail. Gus rolled to his good side and let Helena work on
him, his nose on the floor next to Sam's face. Those eyes
were so big. Sam was talking to him, too, but he didn't
get it. How bad did that suck? To grow up where no one
could get you?

Gus just went with it, murmuring in wolf in return.

Poor guy was grumpy. A pink, rough tongue swiped
over his muzzle. Gus chuffed, nipping at one bent
whisker. He could make today easier, and that was

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something, right? It was the first time in their whole
history together than Gus felt some kinship with the guy.

"Okay. Pain pills for both of you, and napping. I've

got to help Gray and the rest." Mona popped a horsepill
in his mouth, held his muzzle closed, and rubbed his
throat.

He swallowed, his eyes crossing at the hugeness of

the pill. Luckily, Mona gave Sam a whole different med.

A blanket fell over him, and Sam was given a huge

pillow. Puss rowled softly. Gus felt his eyelids drop, his
vision going cloudy. Tired. He was so tired. Sam
scooted closer, purring so loud that it was all he could
hear.

Gus snuggled with his brother's best pussy friend and

decided not to think on it too hard. Tomorrow they
might go back to kicking each other in the face, but
today they were warm and safe and it was all good.

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Chapter Eight

He woke up sore as a boil, but at least he wasn't cold.
Sam moved off the floor, making sure Gus was

covered up, and padded to his wardrobe. He didn't
remember much about last night, but he remembered
enough to know he had to leave. Now. Before anyone
else got hurt, including him. He found a pair of sweats
that had to be from when he was a teenager, pulled them
on, and went to do his business. He met Gray in the
hallway, the man bruised and bitten; Helena dressed to
go.

"It's time, huh?"
Helena nodded. "Yeah. We don't belong here."
"None of us ever have, but I have to stay." Gray

pulled him close. Sam hadn't seen Gray in human form
so much. Ever. "Brother."

Sam nuzzled Gray's jaw. "Brother."
They all stood for a few moments, hugging tight, a

close circle of outcasts. Then Helena pulled away. "I'll
go first. Say goodbye to Mom." She touched his cheek.
"You're going to scar."

Sam shrugged. "It'll make me look rakish."
"It'll make you wear pancake make-up on stage."

Gray was such a bastard.

"I don't perform anymore, you know that." People

started noticing things. Like, oh, fuzzing out on the late
performances. Unnatural flexibility. That sort of thing.

"I know." Gray rubbed noses with him. "Be safe."
"You, too. Don't bite at James." He rubbed cheeks

with Helena. "Love you."

"Hate you." Helena winked, kissed him.
"Bitch." He smacked her butt. "Go on. I'll go last,

huh?"

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"We'll both come, soon." Gray headed for the door,

Helena for Mom's bedroom. He finally got to the
bathroom, washed the blood off his face. God, it was
going to be a good scar.

He was on his way out when he met a naked Gus on

the way into the bathroom, all wild hair and nut-
scratching goodness.

"Bathroom's open." He offered Gus a half-smile, a

nod.

"Thanks." Gus smiled, too, brushing against him.
Oh. Warm. That made him purr. Gus vibrated a little,

but went in and closed the door. When did that man turn
into a hottie?

He went to get his suitcase packed, his side

screaming at him, the stitches pulling.

Gus came back out a few minutes later, wrapped in a

towel. "You heading out?"

"I think it's safest for Ma, yeah. Helena is going, too;

Gray will go for a long run."

"That sucks." Gus was looking all earnest and shit.

That would never do.

He chuffed softly, shook his head. "It's the way the

pack is."

"I know. Doesn't mean I like it." Gus grinned, those

sharp canines bright. "Even if I've done just the same."

Sam grinned. "Tell Pete I said goodbye, huh?"
"I will. He really likes your sister."
"She really likes him. They'll make pretty cubs."
"Yeah." Gus raised a brow. "Not worried what the

pack will say?"

Why would he be? He wasn't Pack. He never would

be. "She's one of you. She changes." A lot.

"Yeah." Gus shrugged, looking so uncomfortable it

was funny. "You think there are any clothes around that
might fit me?"

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"I bet." It was sort of sad, really. He needed to go.

Now. He found some of Gray's old clothes, handed them
over.

"Thanks." Gus glanced up, met his eyes. "You know

Pete and Mom will look after your mother. Go on. Go."

He nodded, leaned over, nuzzled Gus once, quickly.
"Goodbye, Sam." Gus touched his cheek before

turning away, and that was that.

It was time to go.

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Chapter Nine

Jesus, the traffic in LA was a bitch. A lot of people

loved it, saying it got their adrenaline pumping. Gus
thought it was like hitting himself over the head with a
big stick. Repeatedly. Still, he'd gotten a damned fine
price for his double-terminated tourmaline at the gem
show, which would keep him traveling for at least six
months. That worked for him.

He had no desire to go home unless it was for the

mandatory gathering.

Sighing, he rolled his head on his neck and headed

for the In-N-Out Burger on foot. He was starving.

There was a tall, lean man in the line in front of him,

earphones in, body moving. Pretty.

Gus watched for a bit, grinning at his body's

predictable response. Yeah, it had been a long while,
even longer thanks to Sam. Gus had thought a lot about
that pretty puss, to the point where getting his one-night-
stand on had been hard.

The man's nose twitched, almost scenting the air,

then bright green eyes met his, a distinctive scar
crossing the man's face. Sam.

"Hey, Puss. I was just thinking about you." It was the

truth, after all.

Sam grinned at him, chuffing softly. "Gus. It is you. I

thought I knew that scent."

"Am I stinky?" He might be. He was sporting wood.
"No. You smell like home." Sam's cheeks went red

hot, and the kitty looked away, moved up in line. "What
the fuck are you doing in California?"

Gus smiled, moving up a little closer than he should,

maybe, feeling Sam's body heat. "Gem show. You?"

"Choreographing a television special." Edible. The

man was maddening.

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"Cool. Imagine that, huh?" He used to have the urge

to kick this man's ass. Now he wanted entirely different
things.

"Yeah. You here long?"
"I'm a free agent. I can stay if I need to. How long are

you here?"

"Another ten days."
"No shit?" He moved up when Sam ordered, smiling

at the girl behind the counter. "I've got his, too."

He thought he felt Sam purr. This was the weirdest

situation since... well, since Sam's dad's funeral. What
was it about this kitty that turned his world upside
down?

"I'd like a triple burger, no fries."
"Low-carbing it?" Gus had to chuckle at that. He was

going to get two of the biggest burgers himself.

"Just hungry." Sam nodded. "Tired of salads."
"I bet. LA has to be harsh in your business."
Sam grabbed a Styrofoam cup of coffee as he

nodded. "A gem show, huh?"

"Yeah. I was meeting up with a collector.

Tourmaline."

"That's a blue one or a green one?"
"Pink and green. The one that goes from one color to

another?" They sat, both of them breathing in the scent
of burger.

"Oh, that's cool. The collector -- are they making

something from it?" He could see Sam's nose twitching,
reacting to the mouth-watering smell.

"I don't know. It was a big piece. They'll probably put

it in a vault or something." Gus was a digger. He didn't
really care what people did with them once he delivered
and sold, he just liked to haul rocks out of the dirt.

"How weird."

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"It's worth a chunk of change, huh? If they want to

squirrel it away, why not?" He dug into his food; why
stand on ceremony?

"I just don't get putting pretty things away where you

can't play with them."

Ah. The kitty was showing. "I bet you have lots of

sparkly shit."

"You know it. I'm a huge fan."
He could just see that long, black kitty rolling around

in a pile of pillows, batting at stuff dangling from the
ceiling. It made him laugh.

Sam's eyes twinkled for a second, then the big burger

was engulfed. Chomp. Hungry kitty.

"You want another one?" He waited to ask until Sam

was done licking his fingers, which made Gus' eyes
cross.

"Nope. That was perfect."
Gus loved how Sam said that word. Like Eartha Kitt

in Batman. Rowr.

Then there's the way Sam scented him, like he was a

drug. Maybe he was. He wondered what Sam would do
if he put catnip in his aftershave.

"You're having evil thoughts."
"Am I? How can you tell?" He grinned at Sam

hugely.

"You're awake?" Sam snorted, laughing at him.
"Oh, you shit." It was probably true, but still.
"Now, now, no claws, Puppy."
"You're the one with the claws, Puss." He glanced

down and all the food was gone. "You wanna go
somewhere?"

"I do. I have a one of those long-term hotel suites. I

walked over."

"Wanna show it to me?" He wanted Sam. Crazy as it

was, Gus wanted Sam right now.

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"Let's go." Sam stood up, and he followed, like there

was a leash tugging his cock. Gus hummed a little, a
happy wolf sound. Yeah. Damn. Sam moved like a
dream, ass moving side to side, leading him down the
street. Gus wanted to howl like one of those cartoon
wolves. That was a fucking stunning sight. How the
fuck did goofy, gangly Pussy Boy turn into that?

Gus figured he should just be thankful right now. He

could ponder the whole universe thing after. Maybe. He
was not much of a ponderer.

"We're on the third floor."
Sam unlocked the door with his key card, started

moving up the stairs. Gus trotted up behind, eyes never
leaving that fine ass. Thank God he was sure-footed. It
took fucking forever and no time at all to get into the
room, the scent of Sam fucking everywhere.

His whole body shook with the control it took just to

reach for the man and not throw him down.

Sam turned to him, nose twitching. "You smell like

sex. Are you going to growl if I pounce?"

"No." His hands flexed. "Please do."
He didn't even see Sam move, but suddenly his arms

were full of man, his lips covered in a wild, knee-
buckling kiss. His back smacked against the door, his
breath leaving him in a rush. He held Sam up, lifting a
little so they could rub together.

Fuck. Fuck, he'd never been kissed like he was being

devoured. Not until now. Gus held on for all he was
worth, letting Sam have him, tasting what Sam had to
offer. Yummy.

Sam was all arms and legs, wrapped around him,

clinging to him. Gus broke to breathe, but didn't bother
to say anything. He just pulled Sam back in for another
kiss, as scorching as the first, and Sam's tongue flicked
inside his lips, moving quickly, fucking his mouth as

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Gus' hips started to move, his cock so hard he was
starting to ache.

Sam's body was like liquid sex, matching his

movements, so frigging flexible.

"Fuck. Could eat you alive." Oh. Yum. He tossed

Sam toward the bed.

Sam landed gracefully, sprawled out for him, and

Gus ate the man up with his eyes, as promised, then
moved to start on the clothes. Sam stripped down easy,
letting him see the long, lean, scarred body. Gus
frowned a little. Scarred. He traced one across Sam's
belly.

Sam arched, purred.
"Pretty kitty." Just for shits and giggles, he bent and

licked along the same path.

"Rowl." Oh. Oh, that was a hot little sound. Hungry.
He blew a stream of air across Sam's belly button. He

watched those muscles quiver. He wanted to know if
Sam would buck if he scratched the small of the man's
back. Damn. He couldn't wait to find out. He flipped
Sam like a cheese omelet and got his fingers down under
the waistband of Sam's jeans. And he scratched.

"Gus!" Sam's ass went up, back arching impossibly,

and the man's fingers clawed the bed.

Hot spot. Woo and hoo. Gus scratched harder,

watching the gyrations with glee.

"Fuck. Fuck..." The scent of pure, male need hit his

nose, made him want to howl.

"You. God. Sam." His cock jerked, his balls drawing

right up, and he wasn't even naked yet.

"Yes..." Sam twisted, that mouth landing on his again

while those hands tore at his clothes.

"Shit." He ended up on his back on the bed without

any clue how it had happened so fast. Sam had his cock

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out of his fucking jeans, that tongue lapping at him, just
a little too hard to be comfortable.

"Sam." The single word came out broken, Gus' breath

hitching.

Too-green for color TV eyes sparkled for him, then

his cock was engulfed in blazing wet heat, and Gus
shouted, his hips jerking before Sam grabbed them to
keep them still. He tangled his fingers in Sam's hair,
panting. Everything about Sam was 'too' -- too hot, too
rough, too good, too much. Good thing Gus could be a
man of excess. Damn. He fucked Sam's mouth, that
sandpaper tongue making him dance.

Sam took every fucking inch of him, lips wrapped

around the base and pulling hard. Gus pushed up and up,
his belly like a board, his cock like stone. He was just
gonna blow.

One hand palmed his nuts, pushed them, rolled them,

and that was all she wrote. Gus heard his growl ring
through the whole room and hoped to hell no one called
animal control. Hotels could be dicey when he was
having the kind of night he was now.

Sam's deep purr was lower, softer, but it vibrated all

around his cock.

"Oh, God. Sam. Puss. What do you need?" He

stroked the soft, dark hair, his fingers moving idly.

"Touch me. More." Sam nuzzled and licked his way

up.

"Yeah. I can do that." He could so do that. He stroked

Sam's skin, learning its texture, the heat of it.

The sounds Puss made were fucking amazing, almost

as good as watching Sam writhe. There was something
amazing about the way Sam moved, about how starved
he was for touch. Poor kitty. The man was covered in
scars -- old ones, new ones, scratches, bite marks -- not
that Sam let him explore any one for long, the way Sam

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moved. Gus let his hands follow them, though, like
connect the dots. God. Smooth where there were no
scars. There was a tiny line of silky hair above the long,
curved cock.

His fingers felt damned rough in return, his calluses

catching on the tiny hairs. Fuck. Look at Sam move.

"Mmmhmm." Sam vibrated with purrs.
Gus finally wrapped his hand around Sam's cock,

jacking it a little, feeling the length and width of it.
Fucking A. Pretty.

"Oh. Good hands. So good." Sam's hips moved like

the man was hearing music. Dancing. That was cool.
Gus watched, tightening his grip a little, moving from
tip to base and back again.

Those muscles rippled, jerked and danced as Sam

fucked his fingers.

"I -- Jesus." He pushed down with his free hand,

pressing his palm up against Sam's balls.

Sam bucked, heat shooting up between them. Puss

was wild, lost in pleasure, eyes wide, and Gus couldn't
imagine how anyone on earth could resist this man. Gus
moaned, bending to taste Sam's come, just to see how
different it might be.

Spicy. Sam was wild, spicy. Fucking hot.
Gus groaned, his cock already recovered, the smell of

Sam making him need, making him ache, and he pressed
down for a full body rub. Sam hummed, nuzzled into
him, and started grooming him, tongue sliding over his
chin, his jaw.

"Hey, now." That felt good, but Gus had to admit he

needed more.

"Hmm?" Sam rolled him, mouth on his belly. Gus

stiffened for a moment, but there was no malice in it, no
intent he could find beyond pleasure. The purring got
louder, Sam's body rubbing against his.

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"I need, man. I need you to touch me." He took Sam's

hand, putting it where he wanted it.

"Still needing?" Sam's hand was sure, the touch firm

and so fucking warm.

"Yes." He bucked a little, the feeling huge, amazing.

He thought he might just explode.

"Smells so good." Sam's hand worked him, tugging

all along his prick.

"Want. I... wow." The word didn't begin to describe

it. Sam was focused, curious, exploring him thoroughly,
and Sam nodded, kept up that steady, slow pressure.

Gus couldn't keep his eyes open. He squeezed them

closed, his jaw hard, his teeth gritting. Sam's free hand
slid over his thigh, spreading him a little wider. His
belly sucked in, his cock jumping, and Gus let Sam
touch him in places where no one else had in a very long
time.

"Good." Sam bent low, nose tracing his abs, almost

tickling him.

He shook a little, both with laughter and need. "Don't

tease the savage wolf, Sam."

"Teasing assumes I won't blow your mind, Gus."
"I'm ready to be blown." Wait. Had they done that

already?

"Good." That was a satisfied little smile, Sam's

tongue finding the tip of his cock again, licking almost
meditatively, and Gus chuffed, remembering Puss'
fascination with gnawing his tail just so.

"You make me feel that way, yeah." Sure, he'd

always been able to go at a moment's notice, but this
was special.

"Won't hurt you." Sam touched him, so light that his

body ached for more.

"I know. I know, man. I'm just --" Not used to it? A

wolf?

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The touch moved away, and Sam focused on his cock

again, fingers pressing him down into the mattress. He
made this noise that was half growl, half whine. He
couldn't ever remember needing like this. Sam's fucking
tongue was going to make him lose his mind, make him
lose his humanity. He curled up around Sam's head,
panting, holding on by a string. When that lightning
quick tongue slapped the tip of his cock, it burned all the
way down.

Gus shouted, his body buzzing like he'd touched a

live wire, and he shot over Sam's face, as uncontrolled
as a kid.

"You're damned good at that, you little tease." Gus

felt like a million bucks.

God, those eyes were dancing. Laughing at him.
"How do you feel about snuggling, puss?" He was a

fan, and he was ready.

"I'm a cat. I nap like a master."
"I bet you do." Gus pulled Sam up, wrapping both

arms around the man. "Let's catch some zees then."

Sam purred softly, nuzzled his collarbone, then went

boneless, melting against him. He stroked Sam's spine,
listening to what sounded like purrs. Weirdly hot.

Everything about this man was weirdly hot.
If he was smart, he'd run.
Too bad he wasn't real bright. Not real bright at all.

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Chapter Ten

Sam woke up wrapped around a warm, naked, bare

body.

God.
Gus.
He'd lost his fucking mind. Good lord.
He chuffed softly, nose buried against Gus' skin.
"Mmm. Tickly."
The man smelled good. Better than tuna. That was

something. He liked tuna a lot.

"Hey. Good..." He peered at the clock. Three a.m.

"...morning."

"Hey. It is good." Gus stretched a little, and it was

like floating on a bumpy raft.

"Mmmhmm. You have to leave early? It's my day

off."

"No, I'm good. I can stay a good while."
"Good." He cuddled in, purring as Gus' arms

wrapped around hm.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Gus sounded amused, maybe a

little surprised. Those hands headed down his spine,
toward the small of his back, toward that hot spot. The
man was obsessed. It was glorious. Those fingers got
closer, and his toes curled, his breath caught in his chest.

"Love that." Gus chuckled. "Love what that makes

you do."

"Not fair." Those fingers were right there.
"No? Wait until you get a chance to scratch my ears,

man." Gus' laughter felt good on his skin,

He brought one hand up, rubbing Gus' earlobe,

teasing it, tugging it.

"Stop it." The words held no weight, though, and it

caused Gus to rub on him. He pinched this time. All was
fair, right? "Fuck!" Gus jerked hard. "God."

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"Mmm." Gus had forgotten to touch. Cool. Sam

leaned down and bit.

"You're evil." Gus finally remembered, scratching his

back hard enough to make him yowl, and he bit down,
hips rolling as his back arched.

"Good thing I like evil." Gus rolled them, pinning

him to the bed,

"Good..." Yummy. He rocked up, sliding their bodies

together.

"Yes. So good."
Sam nodded, humming to a song in his head.
"You paying attention, babe?" Gus pressed that spot,

massaging.

"Yes..." His eyes crossed, his body shivering.
"Just making sure. Wouldn't want to lose your

attention."

No. No, that wouldn't happen. He opened his mouth

to retort, but he couldn't. That touch was huge.

"God, that's hot." Gus kissed him, distracting him

even more. Oh. Oh.

He was caught between that hand and that mouth. So

not fair. It was hard to get to an ear with his whole body
shaking like it was. Gus was the big bad wolf, eating
him up. His heart was slamming, his body beginning to
buck and yowl.

"Sam." Gus' growl went all the way to his toes.
"Please." He needed more. He needed.
"Yeah. Yeah." Gus rocked against him, covering him,

kissing him like crazy. His lips swelled, threatened to
split under the pressure of the kisses. "God." Gus finally
got them lined up, got their cocks rubbing together. Sam
nodded, teeth sinking into his own bottom lip as they
moved.

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They rocked harder and harder, both of them gasping,

and Gus pulled up, yanking him up on the heavy thighs.
That way they could rub and Gus could get to that spot.

"Fuck!" Smart pup. So good.
"Uh-huh. Smell you. Jesus." Gus' eyes were rolling,

that body bucking for him.

Gus' teeth grabbed his lip, tugged it, and that little

sting was all he needed to shoot his brains out the tip of
his cock.

"Fuck!" The smell of Gus' spunk was sharp, a little

bitter. The feel of it was hot and wet.

He was going to smell like Gus for days. The thought

wasn't bad at all.

Gus slumped down against him, kissing his throat.

"Gonna kill me, Puss."

"Only..." He gulped in air. "Only if you ask nicely."
"Oh, man." Gus laughed, deep and low and happy-

sounding.

He traced the man's collarbone with his nose,

chuffing softly.

"So, what's the plan for food, man?"
"Hmm. There's twenty-four hour room service. I

want tuna."

"Mmm. I want steak." Gus' stomach growled.
"Two steaks. Two orders of tuna. Four big glasses of

milk." He nodded, purred happily. "Anything else?"

"Mmm. Something chocolate. Something salty for

you. Like fries."

Mmm. Crispy potatoes. He nodded and rolled up off

the bed and grabbed the phone to order, adding coffee
with extra cream to the order. Gus stretched out on the
bed behind him, the sheets rustling. God, the smell was
all hot male. He could feel Gus' eyes on him, and his
body started moving, swaying to the music of his mind.

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Gus growled a little, the sound tiptoeing up Sam's spine.
It was like percussion.

He approved. After the order was made, he turned on

the iPod, bass filling the room.

"You gonna dance for me, Puss?"
He danced, always. It was what he was. "You like to

dance?"

"I'm kind of bad at it." Gus grinned. "I like to watch,

though."

He nodded and turned to a playlist from his newest

show -- something sensual and feral and filled with bass.
Then he started to dance. His body knew exactly what to
do, how to connect with the music. Having Gus there
was as good as, if not better than, hundreds of people in
an audience. He could actually feel Gus watching him.
That awareness lasted for a few bars, then Sam lost
himself in the sounds. He danced, the whole room
disappearing. Oh, that beat... right there. The cat purred
all along his spine, vibrating his entire body.

"No getting fuzzy, Puss. Food's coming, and you

have to sign."

"I won't. I don't, normally, if the moon's not full." He

only had few times, and those had been full-on drastic
situations.

"No shit?" Gus sat up, elbows on knees. "And if the

moon is full?"

"Then I change." He winked. "I don't remember it,

though, not much. It's like a dream."

"Huh." Gus chewed a thumbnail. "I'm actually pretty

much the same either way. More sniffy, maybe."

He nodded. He'd noticed that with his sibs. Then

again, he wasn't ever encouraged to change.

"You were looking a little like you might go." Gus

snorted. "It was hot."

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Sam chuckled. "I could feel it, crawling on my spine.

Crazy."

"I like your spine." It was weird, how easy it was for

them to get along.

"I like the way you smell."
"Yeah? I don't smell all weird?"
"You smell like home." Jesus. Shut up, Sam. Don't be

any more of an idiot than you have to.

"Oh." It didn't seem to bother Gus. The man beamed

at him, looking pleased and proud.

The food came, and he grabbed a robe, heading for

the door. Gus watched, covering up with a sheet. He
signed, tipped, brought the table in. Oh, so good. The
tuna smelled so good.

"Mmm. Yeah, that's the ticket." Gus moved over to

look at the steak.

He took his tuna and leapt to the bed with it, purring

happily. Tuna, then milk.

"Such a kitty." Gus was all but drooling on the steak,

though, wasn't he?

"Rowr." Of course he was. Pup.
"Your whiskers might be twitching."
He chuffed softly, nibbling the firm, red flesh of the

tuna. Yummy.

"You're going to have fish breath." Gus bounced

when he landed on the bed, before handing over a
French fry.

He 'accidentally' nipped Gus' fingertips.
Gus hooted. "That almost hurt. Good deal."
"You know, you're much more fun than I thought

you'd be."

"You mean when I'm not a self-righteous prig?" Gus

licked the salt off a fry. "Yeah, I can be a laugh."

He snorted. "You were a puppy; I was an easy

target."

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"I had to see how bad it was..." Gus trailed off.

"Besides, it was totally hot when you kicked me."

"You deserved that." And it had felt so fucking good

to let Gus have all the years of pent-up frustration.

"Yeah. I know." Well, that was decent of Gus, really.
He stole another French fry. "How's Ma doing? Have

you seen her?" Sam talked to her three times a week, but
it was hard to tell over the phone.

"Mom says she's good. I haven't seen her, but you

know they're close." Gus fed him another fry. Not the
one Gus had licked.

"I do. Your brother still hunting my baby sister?"
"He is."
"Maybe he'll catch her. They’ll be good together."
"They would." Gus tilted his head. "You want your

milk?"

"Uh-huh." Just the thought made him purr.
"Cool." Gus rolled off the bed and grabbed his milk

for him. God, it smelled amazing.

He took the glass, dipped one finger in, and cleaned it

off, while Gus watched him, standing right there, naked
as a jaybird. He leaned over, trickled the cream on Gus'
belly, then licked it off.

"Mmm." Muscles jumped for him, Gus' cock rising.
"Mmmhmm." He did it again, purring over Gus' skin

as goosepimples rose.

"Fuck." Gus bucked a little, breathing hard.
"Maybe. I like that." He dribbled and lapped,

vibrating with the pleasure.

"Yeah?" Gus whined a little, a sound of pure need.
"Yes." He nuzzled one nipple, sucked a bit. Yummy.
"Feels so good." Gus knelt back on the bed, staying

upright so he could reach.

A couple of drips of cream fell on Gus' cock, and he

swooped down, sucked it off.

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"Oh." Time stopped a little, and he would swear his

ears popped.

"Yum." He sat up, licked his lips.
"Hell, yes. More." Gus grabbed him and kissed him

hard, then bent him back, fucking his lips. It felt so
good, and tasted better than tuna. Sam moaned happily,
opening up and letting Gus play Alpha. Gus moved,
pressing him down. One of Gus' fingers pushed beneath
him, teasing his hole.

"Hot. God, you're hot." That finger pressed, circled.

He yowled softly, his body rippling. Gus didn't know
how hot he could get. "Pretty, too. The way you move.
I'll dream about it."

"That's good, yeah?" He leaned up, bit Gus' chin.
"Fuck, yes. I just..." One finger slid inside him,

pushing gently.

"Mmm." He purred, from bone-deep, inside-out.
"Want you." He could feel Gus' heat, right there,

ready for him.

"I'm right here." He licked again, nuzzled and nibbled

Gus' jaw. "Right fucking here."

"Good. Oh, God." Gus pushed him back, mouth

slipping down over his prick, surprising the living shit
out of him. He arched, cock sinking in deep. "Fuck!"

"Mmm." That noise echoed right down to his balls.
Gus' fingers kept prepping him, stretching him. The

man was a wolfy machine, really working him over.
That mouth. Oh, fuck, it felt good.

"More." He twisted, touched, ground his body down

on those fingers.

"I got more for you, babe." Gus gave him another

finger, a hint of teeth.

"Uhn." Yes. Yes. He grunted, nodded. Moaned. Gus

worked him until he wanted to scream, wanted to just

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scratch and yowl and hump. Then Gus was on him,
pushing inside him.

His entire fucking world hiccupped for a second,

stopped as he let himself feel.

"Oh." Panting, Gus stopped when those lean hips met

Sam's ass.

His teeth sank into his bottom lip, and he nodded,

moaned. Yes.

Gus began to move, starting to rock into him. He

could feel it all along his spine. He felt every fucking
inch, every motion, every pulse of that fat cock. Gus was
wild now, slamming into him. The man never stopped
looking at him, into him. Fuck. Fuck, yes. Sam growled,
happy to the bone.

Gus bent to kiss him, taking his mouth as surely as

the man took his body. It felt like he was going to split
apart, like his body was on the verge of explosion. It
was like the moon was here, like he could change. The
feeling had him soaring, his mouth open on a wild cry.

His entire body rippled, jerking on Gus' cock as he

shot all he had.

"Fuck!" That had to be Gus' favorite word, because it

came out three or four more times when Gus came
inside him.

He leaned up, licking and tasting and purring hard,

the cat so close to the surface. Gus stroked his back,
finding every bump along his spine. His eyes crossed,
toes clenching and releasing, over and over.

"Beautiful kitty."
He nuzzled Gus, licked lazily, purring full-body.
"Were we eating?" Gus sounded sleepy more than

hungry.

"Mmmhmm. It'll keep." He curled around Gus, warm

and melted and all kitty.

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"It will. Sleep." Gus held him, arms strong and good,

making sure he wouldn't slip right off the bed in a
puddle.

His purr was his only answer.

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Chapter Eleven

Gus liked Sam a little. Maybe a lot. It was damned

surprising. They'd finally decided to leave the hotel
room, both of them needing to stretch their legs, and
man, they'd been goofy. Tourists. Disneyland was
fascinating to a shifter. All those smells. It was kind of
like catnip to Sam. The guy was a little high, and it was
hilarious. To Gus, anyway.

He watched Sam climb things, explore, look at

everything. Touch everything.

"Don't you live in the city, man?"
"I do. Not this one." Sam's green eyes were alight,

pleasure and curiosity bright in them.

"Uh-huh." Gus had to admit it was a little

overwhelming to him. Sam just seemed to get more and
more energized. It was dizzying, really. Made him want
to snap, bite. Maybe hump a little. Hell, it made him
want to hump a lot. Bang-bang.

At some point, Sam was chasing a flock of birds, at

least with his eyes, body vibrating next to him. Gus
wanted to bark and run and scare the birds into full
flight, just to see what Sam would do. Instead, he let one
hand slide down Sam's spine, scratching a long line,
watching Sam shiver and growl. That was so fucking
cool. That whole hot spot thing just made Gus want to
go back to the hotel and do things no one was allowed to
do in an amusement park.

There was nothing quite like this sexy, limber, eager

man.

Gus hated to admit it, but he might be smitten. A

whole lot of smitten. It wasn't natural, damn it. Not at
all.

"Huh?" Sam's elbow knocked him out of his

thoughts, jamming into his ribs.

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"You want to eat? Ride? Go?"
"I'm easy, man." He could go, take Sam back to the

hotel. Or he could just hang out.

"Then come on. Space Mountain."
"Oh." Space Mountain rocked, and they were there

early enough in the day -- and the season -- that the line
wasn't awful.

"Uh-huh. Like being high, but legal."
"Yeah." Not that he was overly concerned with legal.

He wasn't a city mouse like Sam. He tended to go where
the rocks were.

They headed to the line, Sam bouncing and purring

all the way. Gus grinned, hiding it by tipping his head
down. He couldn't wait to grope the man on their ride.
Every so often someone would look at Sam, at the long-
limbed looseness of his puss, and Gus had to resist the
urge to growl. His kitty. His, damn it.

They stood in line, and if Sam had been changed

those whiskers would have been twitching. It was
bizarre to him that Sam didn't just change at will more
often. The man obviously liked being a kitty.

"You smell good." The words were rumbled softly.
"Huh?" He glanced over to find Sam looking at him

like he was a leg of zebra or something. Yum. The
desire was right there, out in the open. Rowl.

They were halfway through the line, so Gus figured

he could wait until after Space Mountain. Then he was
taking Sam somewhere and tearing that ass up. He could
see the barest bite mark on the nape of Sam's neck from
last night.

His cock went woo-hoo, all up against his zipper.

Ow.

They managed to get on the ride without humping or

biting or clawing anything. Gus found that a sign of

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success. They settled in the same car on the ride, scoring
the front row. Sam was vibrating, purring loudly.

"You been on Space Mountain before?" Gus never

had. He'd been on some amazing roller coaster rides, but
never a Disney one until today.

"In Florida, yeah. I was in college, spring break."
"Cool. I tended to go on trips to Turkey and shit."
"I've never been there. Turkey. I..." The ride started

to move.

The thing accelerated pretty quick, and soon it looked

like they were in space. It was a little nauseating, but
Sam just kept making this ooooo noise. Up and down,
they zoomed around, Sam's hand sneaking over to cup
his balls.

"Shit!" He yelped, his body pressing up against the

bar.

"Sorry!" Sam pulled away, eyes visible in the

darkness.

"No, you're not. Just don't make me jump out or

anything, huh?"

"You can't jump out. You're not that flexible."
"You are." He groped a little, too.
"I am." Sam wasn't worried at all, the man spread like

butter. Gus figured he didn't have the element of
surprise. Maybe Sam wasn't a little seasick. Did cats
even get seasick? Carsick? Whatever. Wolves sure did.
Man, every family trip they'd made, Pete had barfed all
over. Whoa. No barfing.

"You okay?" Sam grabbed his hand.
"Uh-huh." He was, really, as long as he didn't think

about it. He held on, though.

"Watch my eyes."
"You'll miss the ride." They'd waited in line...

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"Watch my eyes, Pup. I'll be your spotter." Those

bright eyes were like lasers, holding his attention, giving
him something to focus on.

"'Kay." He could do that. He held Sam's hand and

watched those glow in the dark eyes, ignoring the stream
of blurred stars around them.

"There. That's better."
If it hadn't been so much better, he'd have popped

Sam for that smug tone.

"Fucker." He grinned a little, then grinned harder

because Sam squeezed his hands.

"Almost done. Keep watching."
"I am." Sam was stunning. Just fucking mesmerizing.
One of Sam's hands cupped his cheek, just as all the

lights went out, and all he saw were green eyes. Gus
stared into them until the ride ended, sliding to a stop on
the platform.

"Let's go." Sam slipped out, moving like liquid sex.
Gus took a few moments to right himself before

following, stalking that fine ass. That had been... damn
near as intense as sex. Gus shook his head. You just
never knew about kitties.

Sam was waiting for him, perched on a railing.
"You want to do anything else here at the park,

Puss?"

One eyebrow raised. "Pardon me, Pup?"
"Any other rides? Shows?" He wanted to go back to

the hotel. Now.

"No. I want to ride something infinitely hotter."
Well, okay then. That worked for him. He grabbed

Sam's arm and started tugging. Sam's laugh tickled his
ear. Kind of made him want to beat the man bloody. Or
fuck him blind. Or both. Uhn.

They hurried to the car, Sam slipping into the

passenger seat, almost vibrating next to him. Gus pushed

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in behind the wheel, glancing around. The parking lot
was huge and no one was paying him any mind, so he
took a kiss. He chuffed at the surprised little sound he
got. It wasn't often you shocked Puss. Hot damn. The
kiss went hot for a moment, almost turning into
something no one should do under a big, childlike
mouse sign.

"Hotel. Bed. Now, Pup." That snarl was pure sex.
"Yeah. Now." Thank God traffic was moving once

they got out on the highway.

"I love LA. It's got such a different vibe from New

York."

"I bet it's less crazy than New York. More room to

run, too." Gus loved to run when the wolf was on him,
and he'd seen Sam go and go when they'd played chase.

"I bet. I haven't noticed many shifters here."
"No?" Gus hadn't even paid a bit of attention. "Are

there a lot in New York?"

"Yes." The word was clipped, short.
That sounded ominous. Gus got off the interstate and

headed toward their hotel. "Is that bad?"

Sam chuckled softly. "I can think of a thousand

things that are better."

"Huh." He let it go, not wanting to spoil the mood

completely. His cock was telling him there was still a
mood. The way Sam's fingers traced the inseam of his
jeans proved he wasn't the only one, either.

"Don't crash us now, man. We're almost there."
"I wouldn't do that. Focus." Those fingers kept right

on touching.

"Huh?" Oh, right. Look, there was the hotel.
"Pay attention, Puppy." Fingertips brushed his balls.
His legs drew up, his foot slipping on the pedal a

little. Gus got it together long enough to park, though.

"Very nice."

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He was going to beat Sam's ass. "I'm going to tear

you up, babe."

"Promises, promises."
"You know it. I've always made good on my

promises." Okay, so he used to promise to kick Sam's
ass, not do naughty things to it. Still, a promise was a
promise.

Grinning, Gus hopped out of the car, chasing Sam

when he popped up and headed out at a run. The slinky
little fucker was quick, sliding up the stairs at light
speed. Gus bounded after, all but panting. He could
damned near see Sam's tail. The only reason he caught
up to Sam was because the man fumbled with the card
key at the door. They tumbled into the room, hands on
each other. Gus pulled Sam around and kissed him.

Hands cupped his head, tugged him in to that wild,

needy mouth, Sam sucking up his growl, and Gus
humped a little, needing so bad, his body wild with it.
Sam's cock was as hard as his; he could feel it, rubbing
against him. Gus hummed, moaned, maybe whimpered
like a puppy. Sam made him want to wallow a little.

"Come catch me." Sam leapt onto the bed, the motion

surprising, powerful. Gus wanted to howl, but he gave
chase instead. He bounded on the bed, reaching for Sam.
Their chests slapped together, Sam's legs twining with
his, locking them together.

Gus grunted, kissing Sam until he couldn't breathe.

God. Yes.

They rocked together like beasts, rutting, growling

into one anothers’ lips. Gus touched Sam wherever he
could, just wanting skin. He bit at Sam's neck, leaving a
mark.

That got him a low yowl, the lean body rippling for

him.

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"Mmm." He hummed, growled, wiggling and

panting.

"Toothy pup." Sam purred softly, cheek sliding on

his.

"Uh-huh. You like it." Someone was scenting him. It

was stunningly hot.

"I do." That too-rough tongue slid over his ear.
His nipples pulled up, his hips rocking. "Do what?"

He was losing the thread.

"Like it. When you bite." Fingers pinched his nipple.
"Oh, good." He bit down on Sam's shoulder, his skin

alive with shivers. The low rowl split the air, and he
chuffed softly, shook Sam a little, making sure to leave a
mark.

He needed to mark that fine skin for some reason.

Needed to make Sam his, even for a little while. Sam
whimpered softly, the sound pure sex, pure need, hands
holding him there. His lips moved over dozens of scars,
other bite marks, scratches.

He filed that away to ask about later. Right now

connect the dots was more fun. Sam's cock was like a
brand, leaking against his thigh. He reached for it,
pressing the heel of his hand against it. God, that felt
good.

"Mmm." Sam nuzzled him, claws digging into his

shoulders.

"Sweet kitty." He grinned, thinking how Sam might

have tried to claw his eyes out for this not long ago.
Now he was squeezing Sam's cock, ready to go off like a
bottle rocket.

"Puppy." Sam panted, tongue rough on his skin.
"You make me feel like one, for sure." He rocked,

hips moving.

"Want you." Sam caught his earlobe in sharp teeth

and tugged.

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"You want to ride me, Puss?" Gus wanted it bad

enough that his balls ached, his teeth gritting.

"More than I fucking want my next breath. Get

naked."

He started stripping off, even though he had to let go

to do it. Sam wasn't running, though. Sam bared that
long, lean body for him, cock full, heavy. Gus reached
out, pulling the man back in, needing contact. Sex was a
full body sport. His hands were fascinated by Sam's
body, and his skin ached where that rough tongue
dragged over him.

They twisted and turned, touching, tasting, and he

finally got a good hold on Sam's body, sliding down. He
needed to get the man ready to go.

"Where are you going?" Sam reached for him, eyes

heated, shining.

"You'll see." He kissed one sharp hipbone, then the

tip of Sam's cock, before he turned the man around.

Sam's ass was tight, pale as milk, and so fine. Gus bit

one asscheek, wanting Sam to feel the sting. Sam
yelped, stilled for a second, then pushed back against
him. Gus rubbed his cheek against the smooth skin,
breathing deep. His hands spread Sam wide, opening the
tight hole.

He loved the way Sam shivered and rolled, muscles

fucking amazing. Gus licked a hot line down from Sam's
tailbone, starting to get the man wet. Lean thighs spread,
Sam arching for him, begging for it, so Gus closed his
eyes and went to work, pushing his tongue in. He
needed that hot little hole good and wet.

Sam let him in and in, rocking back with every

fucking lick. Sensual man. Hot, hot, hot. Sam was
burning up inside. He heard the sheets rip as Sam
arched, pushed back against him. Gus chuckled, licking,
holding those lean hips. He wanted more than

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movement; he wanted Sam crazy. He wanted Sam mad
for him, begging for his cock. Gus licked and bit and
really opened the man up, two fingers sliding in and out
of Sam's hole. Fuck...

Sam slammed back against him, took him to the

second knuckle.

"Fuck. Fuck, Sam." He panted against that sweet

skin. "More."

"Fuck me. Fuck me, Gus. Now. Hard."
"Yeah. Yeah." He stood, pushing Sam face down,

using a little more spit to prepare the way, and Sam took
him in when he lined up, body hot and tight as fuck
around his prick.

His eyes rolled. Oh, fuck. That was like -- damn.
"Yes. Deeper. Fuck." Sam yowled.
"Yeah. Yeah, babe." Oh, man. He wasn't gonna last

long. Gus grabbed Sam's hips, fingers digging in as he
slammed in, giving Sam every fucking inch. His body
shuddered, his breath coming hard and fast. Sam felt
like the best thing he'd ever known. Like home. He
leaned forward, bit Sam's nape, the act imprinted in his
soul. Sam yowled for him again, and they'd be fucking
lucky if no one called and complained about noise.

He felt Sam's orgasm, the man's body rippling around

him, and Gus shouted, his hips jerking madly back and
forth. He came so hard his teeth rattled. They settled
down on the mattress together, panting heavily. Sam's
body kept working his cock, muscles jerking restlessly.

"Gonna kill me, Puss." He patted one asscheek.
"Nah. You're too fun to do that."
"Better than Space Mountain, even."

"Much, much better." He almost gagged, just thinking of
it. He pinched Sam instead, laughing as Sam hissed

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softly, spine curling. "Mmm. Did we bring any food, or
is my turn to get room service?"

"Pick up the phone and dial, Pup."
"'Kay." Gus got room service and made what he was

starting to think of as their order. Tuna. Steak. Milk.
Sweets.

Sam cleaned them up, purrs rumbling in the lean

chest. Gus could get to like this. It was a dangerous
thought. An unnatural thought, really. Sam was a city
dweller, a feline. Not someone to mate with. Gus hated
it when reality intruded. He sighed, rolling his head on
his neck.

"You cool?"
He swore he could see Sam's whiskers twitching.

"Huh? Yeah. What are you doing this full moon?"

"Hiding in my apartment."
"Hiding..." Hell, Sam could do that back at their old

homestead. "Come run with me. I'm going to Mexico."

"Mexico? What's in Mexico?"
"Lots of room to run. Some Mexican fire opals just

waiting for me." He tickled Sam's belly, trying to reduce
the tension.

"Mmm. I haven't been to Mexico during the moon."
"So come with me. There's not a lot out there." It was

important, somehow.

Sam nodded. "If I don't have any gigs. I have to

check my schedule."

How could the man work during the moon? "You

work? Dude. I would go crazy."

"Only during the day. I spend the nights at home."
"Why?" Oh, he knew it was stupid to push, but it was

unnatural, and he knew there was something there, some
secret, like a stone wanting to be unburied.

"Why what?"
"Why hide? I mean, you should run."

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He got an incredulous look. "I've lost enough skin,

enough time. You can't trust us."

"Us?" What the hell did that mean?
"Shifters." Sam backed away a little.
"You mean you can't trust me? Shit, Puss, I know I

was crap when we were kids, but we've had some
laughs." They'd done good together.

"No. No, that's not what I mean." Sam shook his

head. "You're not in the city."

"No. I'm not." He couldn't see how Sam could do it,

either. "I like it a bit more natural, Puss."

"There's not a whole lot natural about me."
"No. No, I guess not." Gus figured he was an

anomaly, too, but he wasn't going to say that to Sam.

Sam tensed, found some sweats to pull on, which was

good. He was getting too attached to that ass. His kind
didn't hook up with Sam's kind. He knew that. Sam
knew that.

Gus hunted down a pair of boxer briefs and pulled

them on. "You gonna get all pissy on me, Puss? You
know we're oil and water."

"What does that mean?" Sam ran his hands through

his hair, the dark mass standing straight up.

"It means this is all good and well, but it's not like

you're ever going to come hang with me in Mexico."

"Like you'd welcome me there." Sam met his eyes,

challenging him. "What are you going to tell your wolfy
friends? I'm your pet pussy? Your friend? Your mate?"

"Wolves don't mate with cats." Jesus. It was hard

enough to be queer in his world. But to mate with Sam
would be a disaster.

"No, they don't." Sam's fingers traced a heavy set of

scars on his chest, his cheek, then a t-shirt got tugged on.
"Good thing we fuck pretty well, though. Either that or
you're really good at faking it."

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"I don't fake it. Hell, Puss, I like you." He shook his

head. "It's not natural, but I do."

"Don't worry. I promise not to tell Pete. You'd never

live it down."

"Oh, fuck off. You gonna take me to your next

premiere? Show off the wolfy arm candy?"

"I don't go to premieres."
Uh-huh. Right. At least he was fucking honest. "No,

you're just a hypocrite." Gus shook his head. "I need a
shower."

"You're right. Get the smell of me off of you. It sinks

in, did you know? If you don't get it off you? It'll mark
you forever."

Gus glanced over his shoulder, raising a brow. "No,

I'm just crusty. You want to be bitchy, though, you just
go right ahead, Puss. Makes it easier to say goodbye
when you go back to your own city."

"Go shower, Puppy. The food will be here soon."

Sam looked at him, and suddenly the man seemed old
and tired.

Gus wavered, wanting to go back and grab Sam in a

hug and tell him it would all be okay. It wouldn't,
though, so he slipped into the bathroom and closed the
door.

He pretended he didn't hear it when Sam left the hotel

room. Someone wasn't sticking around for their tuna.

Gus tried to tell himself it was for the best.

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Chapter Twelve

"I called a friend to meet us for lunch. I hope that's

okay." Pete grinned at Gus, and Gus kinda wanted to
whack his brother over the head with a pick-axe. Hard.
After two long days of making nice at a gem and
mineral trade show in the fucking city, he had no desire
to be social.

"What friend?" Gus growled, his hands clenching and

unclenching.

"Sam Finn. His mom has a bunch of stuff for him,

things of his dad's. That's one reason I could meet you
out here, huh?" There was wickedness in Pete's eyes.

Shit. Shit, shit. "So, you go meet him for lunch, man.

I'll finish shipping the stuff I need to ship."

"Dude, don't be rude! I need you there to plead my

damn case."

There was no way. No way he wanted to see Sam

with Pete there. What if Pete scented something?
Noticed something off?

Not to mention that he might not be able to control

his body's reactions. Pete would be sure to see that, if
Gus started getting physical.

"Your case for what? Everyone knows you're

boinking his sister."

"Yeah, but he's like the oldest brother and shit, and I

need him to say it's cool that Lizzie and I get married."
Pete looked suddenly like he did when the man was a
boy, all eyes and whining.

"Married, huh? Pups on the way?" He wanted Pete to

buck up; insulting the man generally worked.

Pete turned red. "Shut up."
Oh, man.

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"Shit. I hate it when I'm right." He grinned a little.

Pete really would need him to be there. Sam would eat
his head.

"She's it, man. I swear. I won't do her wrong, but

Mona's mourning and Gray's wolfy and... Sam's my bud,
bro, but I need backup."

"Okay. When is lunch?" Maybe he'd have time to

jack off until he was raw. Then his cock would stay
down.

"We're supposed to meet near his place around

eleven."

"Okay." Gus had no idea where Sam even lived.

Weird.

"Thanks, bro." He got a wink, a half smile. "Sam

lives in a crazy scary place. I don't get it."

Who the hell got anything about Puss? Ever? The cat

was just maddening. He would look at the blue sky and
tell you it was purple.

"So, no time to go clean up, huh?" Gus sighed. That

sucked.

"He's sending a car deal, so yeah. Go ahead."
"Oh, cool. Thanks." Gus ducked into bathroom to try

to take care of his cock while he took a shower.

There was no way he was going to be able to handle

this. No fucking way. There was something about Sam
that made him fucking stupid, made him do ridiculous
things. He'd say something to make Sam kick him in the
face, or Gus would try to jump the man and bite him...

Something.
Biting Sam sounded like a fabulous idea. Biting and

listening to that yowl.

Oh, God. He ducked under the water in the hotel

shower and got busy, gripping his cock a little too hard.
He needed it to behave.

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Still, it was Sam he thought about when he stroked.

The way Sam arched under his touch, the way the scar
on the man's cheek tasted. He thought about that long,
lean body and how strong those pretty legs were. Then
he thought about Sam sucking his dick and he came like
a teenager, so fast it made his balls ache.

He slumped against the shower tile, little lights

dancing before his eyes. Fuck.

The pounding on the door almost made him slip and

kill himself. "Are you done, man? Car's five minutes
out."

"I'll be right there. Shit. Keep your fucking shirt on!"
"Get your ass in gear!"
Man, Pete would only pull that shit when was Gus

wet and naked and behind a locked door.

He hopped out, slip-sliding across the fucking

bathroom floor like a drunken bear, slamming into the
sink and banging the fuck out of himself. Goddamn it.
He cursed viciously, his mood souring even more.

"Are you murdering someone in there?"
"No! I'm trying to get my teeth brushed so they're

minty fresh when I rip your throat out."

"Don't be a jerk! We're going to be late." Pete was

just fixin' to die. "You know, you need to put your jeans
on, man."

"I am, I am." He skinned on his jeans, wincing when

the lack of underwear made for a little pulling and
chafing.

His t-shirt was tossed over, Pete holding a big box of

stuff in one arm that smelled like home. "Slow poke."

"I was busy." He knew he was snarling. Good thing

his brother knew him well.

"Bitch. We're having Italian."

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Good thing his t-shirt was black, just in case someone

chucked a plate at him. "It's not fancy, is it?" Gus asked,
finally ready to head out.

"Sam wouldn't do that. He's not a prick. Besides, Sam

isn't the fancy food type."

Like Pete knew. He'd spent a fabulous fucking night

in bed with Sam eating three hundred dollars worth of
steaks and fries, licking aioli off those long fingers. He
wouldn't even go into Sam spending fifty dollars on a
single piece of tuna.

"Let's go." He rolled his head on his shoulders. Jesus

Christ. He was so ready to get the fuck out of Dodge.

Pete clapped him on the back, and they left the hotel.

The car was nice, the driver this big dude, and the side
of town they headed toward rough. Damn.

He looked at Pete, eyebrow raised. "He lives here?"
"Somewhere, yeah. He says the restaurant is really

good." Pete sounded unconcerned, which emphasized
how not city he was.

"Good." This wasn't just dirty, this was dangerous.

Maybe it was just that Sam wasn't home much, so he
didn't care. Surely he could afford more.

The car pulled over, idled. "Mister Finn says he'll be

here in just a few moments. We'll just wait."

Gus stared out the window, wondering if one of these

buildings was Sam's. He sure hoped not.

Why in the hell would anyone want to live here?

***

"What are you doing out and about, you little bitch?"

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Sam heard the words, but refused to look, refused to

act like he heard. The assholes were getting bolder,
beginning to come up town, harass him. He stayed
away. He had his flat, his place, he didn't engage.

Not after the last time he'd fought back, that had left

him flat on his back with Helena coming in from
Chicago, saving him from bleeding out on his own
balcony.

"You smell like dog cunt, little bitch, like one of

those stupid fucking pups."

Just keep walking, Samuel. They're assholes. They

don't have the sense of a goldfish.

Pete was waiting for him so they could go to

Pastori's, with a box of some of the things Ma wanted
him to have. Silly pup didn't offer to stay with him this
time. Dork.

A bottle crashed at his heels and he did hurry, out

into the sunlight, out where he could see Chris, the car,
and wave.

Leave me alone. Just leave me be.
The others faded back when he reached the car,

disappearing. When he slid inside, Pete was there, as
was Gus. Great.

"Hey. You didn't tell me you had company, Pete."

This was going to get him killed.

"Didn't I? I hope the restaurant is cool with three."

His oldest friend was terrible at appearing innocent. Gus
was terrible at appearing pleased. He looked like he'd
swallowed a troll.

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"Don't be a dork, Pete. They don't care. How's the

jewel digging business, Pup?"

Gus raised a brow. "Lucrative, this weekend. How's

kicks, Puss?"

"Good. Choreographing a TV special filming next

week. Fun stuff." He winked, going for casual. God, this
sucked. "How about you, Pete? What are you up to?"

"I came with Gus to help deliver shit for his show."

Pete grinned brightly, his eyes so much more green than
Gus' gold-ish ones. "I need to talk to you, too."

"Is she pregnant?" Ma had called two days ago.
"Christ, does everyone know?" Pete rolled his eyes.

"I -- I need your blessing, Sam. With your dad gone and
all."

"She loves you. You love her." He shrugged. "Go for

it, man. Be good to her."

"Thanks." Pete grinned hugely, elbowing Gus. "Did

you hear that? You guys will be related."

Gus snorted. "Oh, goodie."
"Make sure he's your best man at the wedding." This

was hell on Earth, sitting here and not looking, not
touching. Fucking hell on Earth.

He'd thought Gus was completely unaffected, that the

man didn't care, but now he could see the tapping of
Gus' fingers, the slight bulge growing under the zipper
of Gus' jeans.

Pete was, as always, oblivious. "I brought a bunch of

stuff from your mom. She says she misses you."

He nodded. It was too dangerous for her to come, at

least right now. Ever since LA, it was just too much.

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Too wolfy for the asshats to deal with.
"We're here, sir." The car pulled up in front of the

restaurant, thank God.

"Thank you, Chris. Pick us up in an hour and a half."

He left the box from Ma without looking at it. "Come
on, guys."

Pete climbed out of the car first, but Gus waited for

him. He could swear he felt Gus' hand on his ass as he
stepped out to the street.

Sam didn't look around, didn't check to see if they

were being watched. He just kept walking, leading them
into the restaurant. "How long are you guys in town?"

"I leave tonight," Pete said, standing aside so Sam

could talk to the host. "Gus leaves tomorrow. He has to
ship stuff."

"Ah. Cool." Sam smiled at Gianni. "Gianni, my dear

friend. Tell me there's a table for me."

"Of course, signore. This way, si?" Gianni was a

sixty-ish Italian immigrant with a terrible comb-over and
a penchant for dance shows.

They got the best seat, a quiet booth in the back, Sam

settling in easily. A part -- a huge part -- of him was
interested if Gus might be interested in a quickie, just
for shits and giggles.

Gus' nose was working overtime. "Smells good in

here."

"The food is amazing. I've been coming here for

years." Almost since the beginning. Almost.

"I'm starving. Gus made me work like a slave." Pete

managed pathetic way better than he did innocent.

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"Try the chicken parm. It's huge." He chuckled softly.

"Did the big puppy make you carry boxes, Petey?"

"Oh, man, you have no idea how much of a bastard

he can be." Pete rolled his eyes when Gus growled.

The sound sent a shiver down Sam's spine.
"I can imagine." He met Gus' eyes. "I bet he's a

taskmaster."

Gus' lips curled in a tiny smile. "A regular slave

driver."

They actually grinned at each other, at least until Pete

made a weird little noise and shifted and Gus looked
away.

Right.
No smiling.
Not where anyone could see. Especially someone

who knew them as well as Pete.

Gus reached for the bread basket.
He watched the man's hands, remembering how good

they'd felt on his skin, on his body. They were brown,
callused, and had a few new scars. He wanted to feel
them on him now, to suck those fingers and get them
wet enough to slide inside him. He wanted to watch
those oddly pale brown eyes go almost gold with heat,
teeth bared as Gus thrust, filled him up.

Gus paused in the act of buttering his bread, head

lifting, nose flaring a little. Those eyes fastened on him,
flashing with something dangerous.

"If you two are going to have a fight, go into the

damn bathroom. This bread is too good to waste."

Sam was going to kill Pete.

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Gus took a deep breath, looking away. "So, what's

good besides the parm?" Gus asked, voice low and
scratchy.

"I like the beef roulade. I like the ravioli." He'd like

to watch Gus eat spaghetti.

"Hmm. Maybe pasta. Linguine."
That would work, too.
Pete got the parm, Gus a linguine with Bolognese.

Gus ordered them wine, too, which was just downright
dangerous.

He licked the wine off his fingers, nibbled the

anchovies from the Caesar salad. Gus drank one glass
way too fast, and Pete just kept staring back and forth
between them.

"Are y'all okay? I mean... everyone heard you fought

at the funeral, but..."

Sam lifted one hand to his scar. "We didn't fight."
"Sure you did. You were both tore up."
"We ran together a little." Gus stared his brother

down, which was hot. Really.

"Fine. Don't tell me. Christ, you'd think you two were

fucking."

Sam stared at Pete, then slipped in before Gus' growl

could get any louder. "Be serious, Pete."

"Cats and dogs don't mix, right?" Gus was going to

chew the scenery any moment. It was fascinating to
watch.

"Sam's not a cat. He's a Finn."
Sam looked down, a sick feeling in his stomach. That

was the whole point, wasn't it? He wasn't a wolf, and he
wasn't welcome with the other cats. He was a Finn.

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"Just shut up, Pete."
Thankfully, the food came then, and they all had

something else to focus on. Like watching Gus suck.
Listening to Gus moan over the cheese. Having Gus lick
sauce off his fingers.

"Right, Sam?"
He snapped back to the present, Pete's question

taking him completely by surprise.

"What? Sorry, I was off in my own little world."
"I said you'll come back for the gathering soon,

right?"

Gus watched him like a hawk; not that Gus didn't

know the answer.

"No, Pete. Why would I? No one wants me there. I'm

not Pack."

"You are, too." Pete was stalwart that way, insisting

he had a place. "It has to be better than here."

"I'm locked in a room either way." He met Gus' eyes,

wanting Gus to say something, to argue.

Gus sighed. "He's right, Pete. You know James

would put him away for his safety." Gus didn't look
away, his eyes saying how sorry he was.

"Still, you belong..."
"Nowhere. Just drop it, Pete, huh? The Pack showed

me for eighteen years that I didn't deserve to be there;
I'm at best an irritation, at worst a frigging
embarrassment."

"Stop it." Gus' voice snapped like the steel jaws of a

trap. "Leave it be, Pete. The pack was wrong, but they

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did it for the right reasons. To keep you safe, Sam. It
sucks. Who wants dessert?"

Pete stared. "I'll take cake."
"Just coffee." He didn't know what else to say. The

Pack would always win. Always. God, he was getting
maudlin.

"I think you need the cheese plate, too." Gus got

cannoli. That was so not fair.

"When are you and Lizzie getting married, Pete?" He

played with his coffee cup while they waited for the
dessert course, the urge to pounce Gus nigh unbearable.

"I'm not sure. I guess I'll call. Maybe we'll do a

destination wedding..."

"You and your Pack on a cruise ship, howling under

the moon." He couldn't help the tease.

"Funny. No, I was thinking more that way I could

invite who I wanted and not have the rest there."

He smiled at Pete. The man was a good friend.

Honestly.

Gus clapped Pete on the shoulder. "Good man. You

need to think about a cab to the airport."

"Am I making you late for a flight?" Jesus, Pete was

a bad traveler.

"Huh? No." Pete checked his watch. "I mean, I

wouldn't be too early if I went now."

He shook his head. "Do we need to get you back to

the hotel for your bags?"

"Nah. Gus and I shipped my stuff today. You know I

hate carrying shit. I have my iPod."

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"Cool. I'll get you a cab." Gus was looking... toothy.

Hungry, even though they'd just eaten.

"Excellent." Pete grinned over at him. "Good to see

you, man. Look for a wedding invitation, huh?"

He clapped his best friend on the shoulder. "Will do.

Travel safe."

"Thanks." Pete leaned in when Gus went to talk to

the maitre 'd. "If you are fucking, just wear a condom.
Gus is a dog."

Ouch. "It runs in the family."
"Hey! I love your sister." Pete laughed, gave him a

half hug, and Sam noticed the bill had disappeared with
Gus.

"Go on. Email me." He left a twenty on the table for a

tip.

"I will. Bye, Sam." Pete headed off, and Sam saw

him stop to give Gus a rough hug on the way out.

He moved slower, watching Gus on the way.

Admiring his mate.

Stop that.
Just stop it.
Gus waited for him, almost vibrating with tension.

Those eyes flashed gold, though, so pretty, the spark of
lust obvious. He purred, deep in his throat. His body
screamed that this was right, this was what he wanted.
This was his.

Sam called his driver, wanting to get back to Gus'

hotel, wanting a safe place to take what he needed.

"Chris is coming to get us." He offered Gus a half

smile. "You look good."

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"So do you." Listen to that gravel-filled growl. Gus

turned and made for the door to the street, ass swinging
like crazy.

Sam followed behind, the scent of Gus like a drug,

like the best perfume, better than tuna. The man made
him purr.

They stood next to each other on the sidewalk, Gus

giving him sideways looks. Those eyes... that stare
might burn him alive. His cock was hard, aching, he
couldn't look at Gus without needing, without touching.
He reached out, fingers touching Gus' wrist.

Gus started, skittering away, jumping like he'd been

shocked. "Sam!"

"What?" He blinked, stared at Gus. "Did I shock

you?"

"No." Gus lowered his voice. "No, it's just...

Someone might see."

"Oh." He pulled away, made sure there was space

between them. Enough that he couldn't reach. "Right. I
hear you."

Even in California, there had been casual touches.
Of course, that was before he'd... gotten attached. Gus

must have figured it out, that he'd fucked up.

"I -- you live here, huh? People know you."
"Well, I live here. They all know I'm queer."
Gus hunched his shoulders, pulled a pack of

cigarettes out of his pocket and lit up, looking a little
hunted. "I don't know, puss. It's weird."

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"Yeah." Except it wasn't weird. He was, and didn't

that piss him off. "Sorry, man. Didn't mean to..." What?
Intrude? Touch? Try? "...fuck with you."

Where was Chris?
"I know." Gus rolled his head on his neck, looking

tired. Sam might have tried to have sympathy if the man
wasn't a giant asshat. "I'm sorry."

"For what? I'm not your problem. Pete made you

come to lunch." Gus didn't want to see him. Gus wasn't
here for him.

Gus had let him walk away.
"I wanted to see you." The words were barely

audible, and far worse than if Gus was just mean.

He looked over. "But that doesn't matter at all. Here's

the car."

Chris pulled up to the curb, and he grabbed the door

handle, held the door open.

Sam waited until Gus got in, then he shut the door,

nodding to Chris through the passenger side door. "Take
him wherever he needs to go. Then bring me my box."

"Yes, boss."
He nodded, then headed down the street without

looking back. Sometimes it didn't matter what you
wanted, you weren't going to get it, so it was silly to try.

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Chapter Thirteen

Gus wondered, not for the first time, why he'd let his

buddy Cole talk him into this trip. They'd been hunting
lapis, and the trip plan they'd filed with the State
Department said they were going to Uzbekistan, but late
last night they'd crossed into Afghanistan, traveling
light.

As in traveling as wolves.
The area they were heading for had native wolves, so

they wouldn't stand out, Cole said. There was this guy,
Fahran, who would stash clothes and tools for them,
Cole said.

God, he was an idiot.
He was an idiot who'd been running from Sam, or at

least the memory of Sam's face, which had been set in
resolve when he'd put Gus in the car and sent him on his
way. His mate, and he'd put that look on Sam's face.

Hell, maybe he deserved everything he got.
The barrel of the rifle pressed against his kidney

stabbed at him, pushing him forward. He and Cole had
gotten their stash of clothes, tools, and papers, gotten
their second-hand Jeep, and headed into the mountains.

Only to get stopped at the first security checkpoint

they tried to pass through.

They were shoved into a cell, the place dingy and

gray and stinking of cigarettes and despair. So much for
a diplomatic containment unit, which was what they'd
been told they were going to.

"Hey! Hey, you can't do this to us! We have papers."

Cole hit the bars with one hand, snarling.

The outer door to the cell area clanged shut, and Gus

turned his head to stare at his friend. "Good papers.
Don't worry about filing the actual plan."

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"Oh, shut up." Cole slumped to the floor after

examining the single cot and wrinkling his nose. "What
about, well, if we get caught we'll just wait until they
turn their backs and go wolfy?"

Gus held up his hands, which showed the evidence of

recently removed cuffs. "Hard to do when no one turns
their backs."

"Yeah." Cole rested his chin on his knees, looking

totally puppy, which was hilarious for such a big dude
with miner's muscles and shaggy hair.

"When is the moon?" He couldn't feel it yet, but he

knew it was coming. He'd planned to track it on the
watch he'd had Cole's man put in the stash for them.
That had been confiscated at the check stop.

"I don't know, man. I'm all turned around on time.

Jet-lagged."

"You're an asshat, too."
"Oh, fuck off, man. If we're here during the moon,

we're screwed."

"You think I don't know that?" Gus paced, looking at

the window, which was high and tiny and covered with
more bars than a Los Angeles jewelry store. "You got
any contacts in important places here?"

"No." Cole gave him a rueful grin. "Mine are all

unsavory. You?"

"Shit, no. I don't know anyone rich and famous…"
Okay, that wasn't true. He might not know anyone in

Asia, but he did know someone who had an astonishing
number of high-placed acquaintances. If he could find a
way to get a hold of the man. He wasn't sure he had a
reliable number for Sam.

"Do you have any cash?" His had been in his boots,

which were also gone. Cole was more crafty than he
was, though, and might have something in the clothes
they'd left him with.

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"How much do you need?"
"How do I know? Enough to get a phone call."
Cole grunted and started digging in his pants. They'd

been searched, but not strip-searched, which considering
the scars Cole had from that one wolf-smackdown in
Mexico, they might have gone right to the sticking with
needles and finding out Cole and Gus weren't human.

Those scars were amazing.
"Ha!" Cole came out with a small zipper bag, and

Gus just wasn't going to think on that too much, as in
where it had been. All he needed to know was that the
wad of cash was impressive enough. Cole peeled off a
couple hundreds, American. "You think that will be
enough?"

"For a phone call? Should be. These people are

desperately poor." He grinned. "Put the rest of that back,
though, huh?"

"Yeah."
Cole put the money away, and it was pretty damned

quiet until someone brought them water and a bowl of
some kind of… something. Maybe soup. Gus waited
until the pimple-faced kid set down the trays and slid
them through the long slot under the bars before he
spoke.

"You speak English?"
The kid gave him a carefully blank look. Gus sighed,

flicking his hand open to show the hundred dollar bills.
"You speak American?"

Now those eyes flickered with interest.
Gus smiled and nodded. Then he made the universal

sign for a phone, holding his pinkie and thumb out from
his fist and putting his hand to his ear. "I get the phone,
you get the money."

He could see that the kid got what he was saying. The

furtive, side to side look said a lot, as in the kid was

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weighing his chances. Sadly, Gus knew there wouldn't
just be a cell tower floating around out here, so the kid
would have to get him to a land line.

"Shit." Cole cursed when the kid left, and Gus

slumped back against the wall.

He sniffed the food. "It's not drugged. Just potatoes

and salt."

"Cool."
They sat there, staring at their toes, though. Gus was

pissed that he might have lost his chance to get them the
hell out of there. They were both dozing, heads bobbing,
when the door opened, making them both scramble.

The kid stood there, holding a weapon, some sort of

sub-machine gun. Short but powerful. Gus thought for
sure the guy was there to just steal the money, but the
kid jerked his head at Gus, nodding for him to come
with.

Gus stood, hands up, and slowly went to the door. "If

I don't come back, you know who to notify, man."

Cole nodded. "I got your back, man."
Gus went. He had to try. And sure enough, the kid

led him through a series of dark halls to a small room
with a phone and a table and chair. Damn. This was like
some kind of movie. Where were all the rest of the
prisoners? Maybe this was just an outpost or holding
area or something. He'd expected the kind of shit he'd
seen on that foreign drug and jail show.

When no one popped out of the walls the minute Gus

picked up the phone, he dialed. He knew the number he
dialed by heart, and knew that the guy on the other end
would have Sam on speed-dial.

"Hello?"
"Petey?"

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"Gus. I -- man, I been trying to get a hold of you. Shit is
hitting the fan here."

Crap. He hated to be the bearer of more bad news.

"Petey, I swear I'll help when I get home, but I don't
have much time. I need you to listen."

"Okay." He could hear the focus in Pete's voice,

knew his brother had caught the urgency in his voice.
"What do you need?"

"I'm in a holding center in Afghanistan. They're

holding me on smuggling charges. My passport is in
Uzbekistan, in a locker at Termez. My fake papers say
my name is Gus Firestone. I'm somewhere near Khulm.
I was stopped at a security checkpoint. The coordinates I
checked last were 36.877277 and 67.461548 give or
take. I need you to get a hold of Sam, get him to use his
contacts…"

"Gus. Gus, the moon is in like four days."
"I know that. That's why I need you to get on this

right away. I --" The sound of running feet, clad in
heavy boots, came to him, moving fast. "Shit. Tell me
you wrote it down, Pete. Tell me."

"I did. I did. I'll get you out of there, Gus. I'll do it."
The men attached to the boots came bursting into the

room, then, three of them. One took out his young guard
with a single blow. The other two came after him,
hitting him with the butts of their guns. Gus went to his
knees, grunting, his already bruised kidneys screaming.

"Gus?" He could hear Pete shouting at him. "Gus,

what's going on? Gus, talk to me."

The last thing he thought before someone whacked

him right in the head was that he'd never gotten to give
that poor kid his money.

***

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"Sam?"
He sat up in bed, rolling his shoulders, shaking his

head and blinking at the phone. "What?"

"Sam, it's Pete. You there?"
He nodded. He was. He was sore from a week of

hard-core rehearsals and a fucking party with some
crazy-assed absinthe that had left him cotton-mouthed
and stupid, but yeah. He was there.

Really.
"Sam?"
"What, man. What the fuck time is it?"
"I don't know. I don't know, two a.m. maybe? Shit's

hitting the fan here."

"Shit? What kind of shit? Is my mom okay?" He was

up and moving before he thought, grabbing a robe and
hitting On on the coffeepot.

"Yeah. Yeah. Lizzie... she lost the pups, Sam, and

then..."

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry, Pete."
"They were..." Pete swallowed. "They weren't right."
Sam sighed, wishing he had one of Gus' cigarettes.

Pete had to know it was a chance. "I'm sorry, buddy.
You know she..."

"Hey, we'll try again. Doc says it's not her; it's just a

miscarriage. She's fine. I'm marrying her, no matter
what."

"Well, good." Why that meant a phone call in the wee

hours, Sam didn't know, though.

"Yeah. Anyway, I need your help, man."
"Getting married?"
He heard Pete growl. "No! With Gus!"
He shook his head, poured himself a cup of coffee.

Gus? He hadn't heard a peep from Gus in months. "Gus
doesn't have to be there to get you married."

"Sam, are you drunk?"

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"No, asshole. I was asleep." And he was getting

bitchy.

"Gus is in trouble. Big trouble."
Sam counted to ten under his breath; he swore, if

Petey told him Gus had gotten some she-wolf knocked
up... "What kind of trouble?"

"The trouble where he's in Afghanistan and arrested

and the full moon's in less than a week."

Sam's coffee mug shattered where it landed on the

floor. "He's where?"

"Fucking Afghanistan. They've accused him of

smuggling. He's hurt and he's trapped and the moon's
coming. You get me? The full fucking moon. I have
coordinates. I have. He's hurt, Sam."

"Okay. Okay, Pete." Suddenly Sam was wide awake,

eyes burning in his head. "You breathe. I need details. I
need to know which favors to call in and where to send
money."

"Oh. Oh, God. I told Mom you'd be able to fix this. I

knew it. Gus said to call you."

"Uh-huh. Details, man. Now. I have shit to do." He

wasn't leaving his mate to rot on the other side of the
fucking world. He knew a lot of people with a lot of
pull. There was no way Gus was stuck there hurt and
wolfed out.

No way.
Never.

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Chapter Fourteen

He stood at the platform, waiting impatiently. They

only had so many hours before sunset. This was the
safest time for him to be out -- all the other cats would
have gone to ground, and the way they were hunting
him, that was a blessing -- but he still didn't want to be
out with the shift happened. He didn't have a fucking
death wish, after all.

Sam couldn't fucking believe Gus was here, in the

city, during the moon. He'd pulled strings -- pulled them
hard -- to get Gus out of jail and into the country, but
this was the closest they could get the man safely.

When Gus finally did appear, Sam almost didn't

recognize him. The man looked like hell: skinny,
ragged, and heavily bruised along one cheek and the
side of his jaw and neck. No wonder Gus had been
desperate enough to call him.

His nostrils flared; he couldn't help it. "Gus."
Gus offered a slow, crooked grin, bruises showing on

his face. "Hey, Puss."

"I have a car to take us. We don't have long." He

grinned back, nodded. "You made it okay.
Congratulations."

"Thank you." Gus touched his shoulder, following

him when he turned to lead the way. "I couldn't -- no
one else would have been able to get me out of there
before the moon."

"It's good to know a ballerina's mafia uncles."
"I guess so." Gus laughed, the sound almost a rusty

bark.

"Did your friend make it to Paris?"
"Cole? Yeah. Yeah, as far as I know. We decided it

was best to cut off contact until after the moon, just in
case."

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The long, black car waited for them, and he held the

door open for Gus. "Hop in. Chris, take us home, yes?"

"You got it, boss."
Gus sat next to him on the big seat, sinking back

against the upholstery. "Oh, man. Nice ride. It's actually
quiet in here."

"You know it. Sometimes you just need to rest." He

slid over to the minibar, poured two whiskeys and
handed one over.

"Thanks." Gus sucked it down, handing the glass

back.

"One more?"
The scent of Gus was everywhere. Fucking

everywhere. It was not as clean and fresh as usual, but it
was his mate.

"Yeah. Yeah. I --" Gus moved closer. "I'm sorry,

Sam. For all the trouble."

"No worries." He wouldn't leave Gus to that, he

couldn't. Gus was... family. It was fucked up, but there it
was.

One big hand landed on his thigh. "Are you going to

be okay with me here? For the moon?"

"My house is safe, protected, and there's fresh meat,

milk." Tuna.

"Cool. Cool. I've never been that close to being

fucked..." Gus was a little wild around the eyes. Sam
couldn't have stopped his purr if he'd wanted to. Deep
and low, it was the best comfort he could offer. That big
body settled a little. "I've never been in a city this big on
the moon, either."

"I have a loft. It's perfect. There's a skylight." Toys.

Cushions.

"Perfect." Shaking his head, Gus snorted. "You're a

city mouse, babe."

"There's nowhere else for me."

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"We'll see." There was something there in Gus' tone,

but he really didn't have time to dwell on it now.

They pulled into the basement of his building, and he

tipped Chris. "Day after tomorrow, I'll need you to
deliver groceries."

"You got it, boss."
"Thanks." Gus smiled at Chris, and it almost looked

less than predatory.

Sam got them in the elevator, moving up. The

pressure to get them inside was bigger now. Inside. In
the den. Safe. Locked away.

Gus shifted from foot to foot, hands clenching and

unclenching.

"You're okay. We're at the top floor." All the way in

the penthouse.

"Wow. I guess it's defensible, huh?"
"Yeah. There aren't any people for three floors

underneath me, just storage."

"Oh, good." That seemed to help Gus relax a bit.
"I know this isn't perfect for you, but I promise you,

you will be safe."

"I know." He thought he felt Gus' fingers on his

shoulder, a tiny touch. "Thank you."

He shivered, purred softly. Mated with a wolf. God

hated him. Hated him. All Sam could do was pray that it
was only one-sided.

They got to his penthouse, and Gus started chuckling

the moment he turned the lights on. "Wow. Kitty
heaven. I can see why you live in such a shitty
neighborhood."

Sam felt his cheeks turn bright red. The loft was...

sparkly. Bright. Soft cushions covered every surface,
and toys dangled from the ceiling.

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"Hey, you've seen my bolt hole at the mine. Bones

and blankets." Gus stroked his back, another fleeting
touch.

"You can run outside, though. Are you hungry?" His

entire body arched.

"I could eat, sure." Gus moved a little closer, hot

against his back.

His eyes crossed. Oh. Oh, God yes. His ass rubbed

against Gus, the motion totally out of his control.

"You're warm." Gus pressed right up against him

now, nothing fleeting about it.

"I am. You're safe. Safe now."
"Yeah." Gus breathed the word against his neck. "I

can usually take care of myself, you know? This was...
bad. Stupid of us, and we probably deserved it, but I was
fucking scared."

"Yeah. Breathe." The sun was going down. "I have

you, Gus. You're safe."

Gus wrapped both arms around him, shaking a little.

"I'm... It's almost time."

"We should get naked. The steaks are on the counter

already. There's water dishes, too."

"I promise not to eat your tuna." Subdued Gus was

almost painful. He wanted snarky Gus back. Gus moved
closer, leaning a little. It was easy, now, with Gus here,
with the scent of the man everywhere, to nuzzle and
touch, lick.

Gus held him, arms strong around him even as

unsteady the big body was.

"You're okay." He drew Gus over onto one of the

cushions. "The moon's coming."

"Oh, yeah. Even here I can feel it." Gus started to

shake. Someone was an early changer.

"The windows let her in." He rubbed his cheeks on

Gus'.

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"Mmm. The benefits of being on the top floor." Gus

scented him, all over him.

"Yes. Privacy. View. Windows." He purred loudly,

his entire body on fire.

"Meat." Gus' voice was nothing but a growl.
"Yes. There's plenty for you." He tried to roll up to

find some, but a mostly-clawed paw stopped him. Gus
barked with laughter before that bruised body started to
change. He backed off, half-focused on Gus, half-
focused on his own change.

Gus howled, making him glad he didn't have those

close neighbors. Anyone who might hear would think it
was a nature documentary or something. He rowled back
in response, the lines of his den going sharp-edged as he
ran, leaping on one of his ledges to stare down.

Gus barked, golden wolfy eyes staring up at him,

tongue lolling from Gus' mouth. That tail wagged, just
the tiniest bit. He peered down, whiskers twitching, the
urge to play huge. His mate. Home.

How exciting!
Gus danced a little for him, more comfortable in the

wolf, low noises coming from deep in that throat. Sam
crouched, body vibrating, readying to pounce. Gus
barked and ran, tearing around the room. A moving
target.

Oh.
Oh.
Oh.
He yowled happily and sprang, getting nothing but

tail as he landed.

He spat out a mouthful of tiny hairs, his claws

digging into a cushion as he took another leap.

This time he overshot, landing right in front of Gus,

and they went tumbling, rolling end over end on the soft
floor. Gus chuffed, swacking him with one big front

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paw before pushing up and tearing around in another
circle. He gave chase, head down, tail up.

Gus turned on him all of a sudden, bouncing right at

him. They crashed together with a howl and a yowl.
They smashed against each other, paws batting together
harmlessly. Gus' teeth glanced off Sam's shoulder. He
swiped Gus' hindquarters, twisted to nip the fuzzy tail.
Gus yelped, but there was no pain in the sound. Just joy.

They bumped heads, then scented each other. Gus

yawned, jaws almost unhinging to show healthy teeth
and a long, pink tongue, and Sam sniffed, eyes crossing
as the tongue unfurled.

Gus bit him once, right on the ear, then tugged him

toward the pillows sprawled in one corner. He purred
happily, bounced over. Soft. Springy. Good. This was
his favorite spot.

Gus curled up, nose to tail, sighing hard.
They would nap. Then they would eat. Then play.
He licked Gus' nose, rumbling. Gus huffed a little, a

happy noise, and nuzzled him before settling, one paw
against Sam's chest.

He took a deep breath, then settled, too, stretching

lazily. Good.

Somehow, he'd never thought he'd be able to say that

about sleeping with a wolf.

***

Gus woke up naked, human, and sore as anything. He

and Sam had woke from their nap and played. Eaten.
Then played some more. Sam's house was hilarious,
magical, filled with the weirdest crap he'd ever seen.

Sam rolled over, purring softly, tail thumping on his

flank.

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Still a cat, then. Someone changed late. As he

watched, Sam slowly, slowly changed, becoming the
lean, strong man. Those legs. Man, they could kick.

Sam yawned, stretched, rolled for him, so he reached

out and stroked that fine belly, fingers catching on the
hairs. Bright green eyes flashed at him, laughing.
"Mmmmmmorning."

"Hey, babe." It felt good here. Settled.
"Hey." Sam rolled over, nosing his belly for a second.

"Smell good."

He smelled like them, like wolf. Gus’ toes curled up

a little, his hand sliding through Sam's hair.

"Hungry?"
"I could munch." He could nibble on Sam, too.
"Mmm. I'll see what there is." Sam rolled up, motion

liquid.

"Cool." Rising up on one elbow, he watched that

tight ass sway.

It made his mouth water, made him growl deep in his

throat a little. His body tightened, his scalp prickling.
Yeah. He wanted that. Bright green eyes flashed back at
him, challenging somehow. Gus sprang to his feet,
shaking out his limbs a little, before following.

Sam had grabbed steaks, coffee, and a carton of eggs

by the time he got in there.

Gus slid his arms around Sam's waist, nuzzling the

back of Sam's neck. He could eat Sam alive, and his
tongue came out to taste that bit of skin. Sam's purr
vibrated him, mouth to thighs, his pretty puss starting to
undulate.

He let his hands wander, Sam's belly particularly

fascinating. The skin there was soft, a little fuzzy, but
the muscles were hard.

"I was going to cook..."

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His fingers traced each and every little ridge. "I

know. I'm hungry, even. Want you more."

He could feel, from that long, curved cock swelling

up toward his hand, that Sam wanted him, too. He
touched just the head, fingers tracing the flared edge. So
hot.

"Gus." The single word was the hottest thing he'd

ever heard, Sam's legs parting.

"Yeah. Need so bad." His cock ached, and he rubbed

it against Sam's ass. Sam's hips started rocking, slow and
steady, the lean muscles working his cock, making
promises.

Fuck. He wanted in. He also wanted to tease them

both. He bit again, growling loud enough that he knew
Sam felt it. Sam shifted against him, breath coming fast,
and Gus reached down to touch the long cock waiting
for him. He touched super carefully, fingers almost
dancing over the tight skin.

So pretty. Sam was just beautiful all over. Gus was a

little awed.

"Your hands are warm."
"You're hotter, babe."
Sam spread a little wider, bent in a clear offer, body

stretched out for him. Oh, yeah. He needed some of that.
Gus pressed forward and up, pushing a little. He got off
on that little yowl, the low, deep purr.

"God, babe. Hot." He pressed closer, his cock

slipping inside Sam's body. Sam rocked back, taking
him in to the root, like he fucking belonged there.
Maybe he did. They were mates, no matter how much he
hoped he was wrong. His mind skittered away from that
thought. He couldn't mate with a cat.

A cat couldn't mate with him.
That was wrong. Right?

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Gus concentrated on his body, on how good it felt to

slide in and take what he wanted.

"Yes..." Sam's body squeezed and rippled, worked his

cock like a fist.

"Christ." He dropped his face against the crook of

Sam's neck and shoulder. His hips moved faster and
faster, his breath coming hard.

"Good. Good. Soon." Sam met each thrust, growling

deep, and he felt the rumble, all around his prick.

"God, yes. I --" His thoughts skittered away, his brain

shorting out. Gus came hard, his orgasm stealing his
breath.

Sam came for him in return, so pretty. So hot. The

man smelled like his.

He stuck his nose into the curve of Sam's shoulder,

inhaling deeply. His. It didn't scare him as much to think
it; it got better every time.

"Much better than a jail cell."
"Fuck, yes."
Sam started cooking again, staying close. "You have

to watch that getting arrested thing."

"Tell me about it. They accused me of smuggling. I

paid for those rocks."

"I know." He heard Sam's belief in that voice. Gus

thought Sam would have sprung him whether he'd paid
or not.

"Thanks, babe." He meant it. Sam had his back.
The soft purr vibrated his chest. He stroked Sam's

skin, fingers tracing all those little scars. How many
fights could a dancer get in? Hell, how many fights
could a cat get in? They were way more one cat per
territory than wolves were pack animals.

"Eggs are done."
They smelled good, too.
"No fish, right?" Sam would put tuna in anything.

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Sam's laughter was low, tickled, made him smile.

"Not this morning."

"Smoked salmon on a bagel I can handle. Not tuna in

an omelet."

"I'll keep that in mind." Sam turned, nose sliding on

his jaw. "Eat."

"Thanks." He took a kiss before he took the food.
Sam watched him for a second before following,

curling into the cushy dining chair. Who the fuck had
padded kitchen chairs? With arms. Lord. Gus settled in,
though, and it felt good.

Sam ate, licking and purring over the plate, still

deeply feline.

His body started to heat up, and damn, Gus wanted to

know why this had to be his fate. Lone wolf with kitty
fetish. It was like the most ridiculous want ad ever.

"Is the food okay?" Sam was sucking his fingers

clean.

"It's great." He hadn't even noticed. Gus glanced

down at his plate, which was empty. Damn.

Sam nodded, the grin oddly knowing, then his slinky

kitty headed over, pushed right against him, straddled
his thighs.

"Hey." He grabbed Sam's ass, holding him right

there.

Sam scented him, nose on his jaw, his ear. "Hey.

Better."

"Definitely." It was. Touching was good. "So what do

you do for fun here?"

"Here in the apartment? I dance. I play. I watch

movies on the projector."

"What do you do when you go out?" He nibbled a

little, the skin he found so tasty.

"I work."

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"That's it?" He had the feeling they'd had this

conversation before, but he wasn't good at touchy feely,
wasn't good at remembering stuff. He had a feeling he'd
be better at it with Sam from now on.

"Basically." There was something odd in Sam's

voice, something weird.

"What?" Gus hated feeling stupid, and he really did at

the moment.

"What-what?" Sam's head tilted.
"You just sound like you're not sitting in my lap

getting a butt rub." He winked. They'd explore that
whole learning shit about each other later.

Sam purred happily. "Move your hand up a couple of

inches and that won't be a problem. I won't be able to
think at all."

"Here?" He moved his hand up, scratching at the

small of Sam's back.

Sam's eyes crossed, lips parting immediately. "Uhn."
Look at that. Gus growled a little, scratching harder,

and Sam just twisted, the look in those eyes pure bliss.

Such a kitty. It was ridiculously hot. He wanted to

see if he could scratch Sam to orgasm, maybe. Sam
leaned into him, mouth open, breath hot on his throat.

"You can bite if you want."
Gus wanted. Bad. He wanted to tussle.
Sam's tongue hit his skin first, the flesh just a little

too rough to be right. Then he got a sharp bite, right on
his jaw.

Bingo. That was going to leave a tiny bruise. Not for

long, with the way he healed, but long enough to know
it came from Sam. He pushed at that spot on Sam's back,
needing his cat there with him.

"Gus." Sam started to rock, the low sounds against

his throat so fucking wild. "Don't stop."

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No, he wouldn't stop. No way. This was way too

damned hot. Sam was rubbing all over him, the scent
making him dizzy.

"Need." Nails scraped along his sides; Sam's hard

prick left wet kisses on his belly.

"Uh-huh. So bad. Need so bad, I mean. This is good."
"Yes." One bite became two, then three, Sam's purrs

filling the air.

"Toothy kitty." Gus humped, his breath huffing in his

chest.

"Mmmhmm. More." Sam bit deeper, shaking Gus a

little, making it sting.

They rocked together, both of them moving faster.

He stroked that sweet spot on Sam's back, digging in a
little more.

Sam's cock slid against his belly again and again, still

wet at the tip, even harder now. Gus grabbed it, rubbing
it hard against his skin, thumb scraping the tip. The yowl
he got was fierce, making the glasses on the counter
rattle.

His Mate. His. He was through trying to deny it.
Sam's eyes went wide, almost like the man heard

him. "Again. Please."

"Yes." Yes. Mate. He finally just pushed against Sam

and said it out loud. "Mate."

Heat sprayed between them, Sam staring at him, eyes

wild. Gus felt every second of it, his breath catching, his
cock and balls aching as he came.

His lips were taken in a hard kiss, Sam taking his

mouth like they both hadn't just come. Gus could live
with that. He was always damned horny right around the
moon. His balls might hate him later, but the rest of him
was fucking tickled.

Gus kissed Sam back, just as hard, pressing against

that lean body, his hands under that fine ass. He felt

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every move, every little slide of the long spine. The skin
there was so fine, even peppered as it was with rough
hair.

Sam's fingers brushed through his hair, petting him,

nails scratching his scalp. Gus wanted to purr, but hey,
he wasn't a kitty. He rumbled instead.

"Good sound." Sam's cheek slid against his.
"I feel good." He did, too. Whatever came later

would come. This was right.

He let Sam lean in, rest against him, purring loudly.
"Your place is growing on me, babe."
"It's safe, cozy. I love it here."
Gus chuckled. He wouldn't go as far as love. He

could feel the city pressing on him.

Sam kissed his chin. "Come on. More food. More

fucking. Then a nap."

His kitty had his priorities straight.
Gus nodded, stretching good and hard before going

for food. The rest they would figure out, sooner or later.

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Chapter Fifteen

The moon. The moon. The moon. He sat at the

window and stared, vibrating softly. It was coming.
Soon. Sam could feel it, battering at him.

He could also feel Gus, too. His lover was sleeping,

but the bond was there between them, a constant, low
hum.

Sam wasn't sure how he'd managed it -- mating with

a wolf -- but he had. And Gus felt it, too. Gus had said it
out loud. God, what a trip. He chuffed softly -- at
himself, at Gus. They couldn't be mates, could they? He
was a city living freak; Gus was a rock hound.

Rock hound.
That was bad.
He heard a loud, squeaky yawn and turned to find

Gus staring at him. "Hey, Puss."

"Pup." He smiled over, stretched lazily. "Moon's

coming."

"Uh-huh. Starving, Ready to run. You should come

out with me tonight."

"Out? Out there?" The fear he felt was immediate,

undeniable. Was the man insane? "No. No, you can't go
out there." It wasn't safe.

It wasn't sane.
"What? It can't be that bad with two of us to keep an

eye out." Gus smiled, completely at ease.

"There's nowhere to go, Pup. Only concrete and

death." More teeth and claws than one man could fight.

"There has to be a place where I can see the moon,

Puss." The smile was fading, Gus shifting from foot to
foot.

This was never going to work. He had to get Gus out

of the city, first thing in the morning. If he got Gus a
flight out of La Guardia early enough, his mate would

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be home in the afternoon. Free. He opened the curtains
wider, the huge bay of one-way windows bared to the
sky, before heading to his computer and pulling up
Travelocity. "Does that help?"

Gus didn't understand. They were out there and there

were more of them than even two of them could fight.
Tonight, they were inside.

"It does." But Gus didn't go to the window, he came

to Sam, hands on Sam's shoulders. "What are you
doing?"

"Getting you a flight home first thing in the morning,

so you can run." Giving his mate what was important
and right. Necessary.

"You're coming with me, then, right?"
He looked up, wanting to more than breathing, but he

wasn't a kitten anymore, wasn't footloose and fancy free.
"So that you can lock me in a little room? Here I have
some space. Security. There's no room for me there. I'm
not Pack."

The words were true; even Gus had said them. He

didn't belong, not during the moon. It was the way of
things.

"Who said we had to go to the Gathering?" Gus

squeezed his shoulders. "I know this mine in Nevada; I
have a cache there. During the moon, it looks like an
alien landscape."

"Oh." He leaned into the touch, eyes crossing at the

sheer, unadulterated pleasure that was huge. Vast. The
biggest thing he'd ever felt. "I would, Gus, but I have to
be here, the day after. It's the last week of rehearsals on
the show. After... if you want?"

Please want. Please? He'd told himself he didn't want

Gus to need him, but he did. So badly.

"Of course I want." One hand slid down between his

back and the chair to hit that little spot.

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He shivered, ass sliding on the leather chair. "Then

I'll meet you. I have this one commitment and I'm free."
Free.

He could take his laptop, some important things, and

let the rest go with the property. Hell, he could go and
take his savings and buy anything they needed.

Gus dug in harder. God, those fingers. They were

rough and callused and yet gentle on his skin. His nerves
were singing, his eyes crossing with pure bliss. Mate.
Gus scratched a little, just like he was in full cat mode,
just like he had his tail.

His fingers hiccupped on the keyboard. "Trying to get

you somewhere free, Pup."

"It can wait." Gus turned him about in his chair,

hands sliding up to his shoulders.

He looked up, eyes trailing up the beautiful, ripped

belly.

"She's almost here, babe. Let's play, huh?"
"Play." He leaned forward, let his tongue drag on

Gus' belly.

"Uh-huh. We can play chase. Keep away." Gus

danced back, prick rising.

"Mmm. Hunting." Stalking. His favorite game. He

slipped out of the chair, nose twitching. "You'd better
hide, Pup."

Gus made a break for it, tearing around and making

feathers and sequins fly. Then he seemed to just
disappear.

Sam rowled softly, mouth open as he scented the air.

His lair. His den. His mate. He dropped low, kneeling
down. He could almost feel his tail twitch.

Gus was there. He could feel more than hear the man

breathing. Still a man, yes.

He slid to one side, then leapt up, muscles tensing

and releasing as he landed on a ledge that looked over

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the flat. He searched carefully, watching for movement.
Gus was sure to give himself away. The feathers and
baubles bobbed and swirled, just outside his focus as he
scanned. Couch. No. Bookcase. No. Table. No.

There. Slipping out from behind the screen by the

bed.

He crouched, sprang, fighting to make it over the

bed. Sam landed on Gus' left hip, just as his mate tried to
turn and slide away from him.

He grabbed Gus and squeezed tight, nibbling one

shoulder. "Got you."

"Mmm." Gus rumbled, a happy, settled noise. "Now

what are you gonna do?"

"Claim you." He bit a little harder, playing.
"All yours." There was something growly and serious

there.

"You know how fucked up this is, right?" He bit

again, hating to ask, but having to.

Gus looked him right in the eye. "Why do you think I

hated you so hard when we were kids, Puss? We knew
back then."

He purred -- he couldn't not, not with Gus looking at

him, wanting him. He leaned in, scented Gus' jaw. His.
Gus' fingers slid along his jaw, touching his cheek, his
ear. Yes. His. His eyes crossed a bit, his hands
fluttering, unable to decide where the fuck to touch, to
explore. Gus kissed him, turning his head a little to get a
good fit. Then everything clicked.

They rolled together, bodies thumping on the padded

floor, against cushioned furniture. Solid and hot above
him, below him, everywhere, Gus felt right. It was
insane, but he didn't care. As soon as the moon was
over, then the rehearsals, they would find their place
together.

They would figure this shit out.

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***

"Are you sure you can't just come with me, Puss?"

Gus shifted from foot to foot, not really wanting to
leave.

Sam kissed the corner of his mouth, the touch

feather-light. "I have to finish up the show, earn my
paycheck. Then I'll come to you, and we'll figure things
out."

"Okay." Something was nagging at him, something

almost like prescience, but Gus ignored it. "There's a
tourmaline mine in California. I'll check in every couple
of days."

"Mmm. Sparklies." Sam groaned softly. "It was

easier to leave when we were fighting."

"Definitely." Gus knew he should just go. Make it

easy. He just couldn't seem to do it.

"I could call you a mangy cur, if you want."
"Just don't kick me again. I'm almost recovered from

those last beatings." He winked, then gave up and
reached for Sam, kissing the man hard. "Call me if you
need anything, okay? I may not have service down in the
mine, but I'll check my phone a couple times a day."

"I'll call. You have my word." Sam pressed close.

"This is silly. We're being ridiculous. It's a fucking
week. We've been apart years at a time."

Yeah, but they hadn't let the bond set then, hadn't let

it live. Still, he had to go. Had to, or he wouldn't, and the
city was sucking his soul right out. Gus sighed and said
it before he could think. "I love you."

"I know. Go. You hate it here." Sam winked, scented

him one more time, then pushed him out the door.

"You're such a prick, Puss." I know, he said. Like the

man was Han Solo and Gus was a princess or

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something. Gus left, though, because he had to. He
pulled his phone out to call his mom on the way down in
the elevator, cursing when he didn't get signal until he
hit the street.

Her voice was like a rush of home, though, as soon as

he heard it. "Baby boy."

"Hey, you. I'm back in the States. I'm headed for my

dolomite mine."

"You're okay?"
He ducked an unsavory group of folks. God, how

could Sam live here? He guessed it was the price Sam
paid for the fancy-assed penthouse.

"I'm good. Sam got me out before the moon."
"That's good news. He always was a decent sort."
"Yeah." He wanted to tell her about Sam, but he

decided to wait and do it in person. She had enough
going on with Pete and his girl.

"You're okay, though? Coming back where you're

safe for tonight?"

"Oh, I'll make it to the mine. I'll be fine." He would.

He was good to go in the States. He had bolt holes
everywhere. It was places like Afghanistan that gave
him issues when they put him in jail...

"Good. I love you, son. I'm glad you're home. I

worry." That was her job. She was a momma, after all.

"I love you. Have Pete call Sam, will you? He'll need

to chat."

"Surely will." Her voice made him smile, almost as

much as the car that pulled up next to him on the street,
Sam's driver hopping out.

His puss had sent him a car.
It had to be love.
"Okay, Mom. I'll call you from the mine. I have to

go."

"Be careful, son."

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"I will. See you soon."
He leaned back, closed his eyes. This was ridiculous.
Insane.
And it needed to be over soon.

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Chapter Sixteen

He headed upstairs, rolling his head on his neck.

Three days Gus had been gone.

Two long nights with the moon glaring down at him,

making him ache. He'd woken up each morning
exhausted, house a wreck, the bruises on his body from
his panther needing out, needing to find his mate.

It was insane.
He'd done his job, though, and made an amazing

amount of money doing it. Now all he had to do was
clean, pack, and get a plane ticket.

Funny, really, how he'd dreaded leaving the fucking

city for years and now... now he knew Gus was waiting,
knew there was a place for him and he was going to
make it. Going to go and leave all this craziness and
worry behind.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised as he opened

his front door. Weird, because his building was secure,
right? Safe? There was nothing below him, and he had
security alarms.

There was something -- he wasn't sure what, he

wasn't sure of anything, but...

Something.
He locked the door behind him, padded through the

chaos toward the kitchen, dialing Gus. The phone rang
and rang, finally going to voice mail. He waited through
the greeting, then grinned, loving that he could tease
Gus now, play with his mate. "Hey, you. Hope the moon
was good to you. Everything's finished up here, and I'm
at loose ends. Who knows, maybe I'll go on a long
vacation. See the sights. Call me."

There. If that didn't get him a phone call back,

nothing would, right?

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He chuckled, shook his head, and tossed his phone at

the sofa. He needed to pack a bag, the laptop, and a
handful of other things. He grabbed Ma and Pop's
picture off the mantle, plus his copy of his first playbill,
popped them in his briefcase.

He'd dealt with the bank, transferred money around,

done the stuff he...

What was that?
Sam spun around, growling deep in his chest, nostrils

flaring. "Who's there?"

"Here kitty, kitty." The voice was unfamiliar, low,

and unmistakably feline.

"Get out of my house." He wrapped his hand around

the fireplace poker.

"Not a chance." Now that voice, sliding in from

behind him, he did recognize. Al, pussy cat mobster
wannabe extraordinaire. Jesus, this was so fucking trite.
"You stink, traitor. We don't let traitors live here."

"Not your building, Al. Trent owns it, and I've paid

all I'm going to." He'd paid in flesh, in cash, and in time.
He was done. Getting out.

"Trent's no longer in business." A phone was held up,

a blessedly silent video playing that showed a Jaguar
screaming, both front paws gone, his teeth shattered.
Shit.

Shit.
Sam made himself stay loose, kept the poker in hand,

no matter how badly he wanted to gag, to scream.
Control. This was about control. "Too bad for him. Take
the place, then. I'm moving out."

"Not with all that money you have in the bank, you

aren't."

Oh, no. That was his. His life. His and Gus', for as

long as they needed it. "Fuck you, asshole."

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He was tired of putting up with shit, damn it. Tired of

this nonsense.

He heard the motion behind him, and he struck out,

the poker connecting with flesh, even in the dark. There
was a satisfying cry as someone went down, and he
swung again, body trying to decide whether he was
more effective in his fur and claws or with the weapon.

By the time that he noticed the two felines leaping at

him from up above, it was too late to decide.

Too late for anything.

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Chapter Seventeen

Sam hadn't called.
Or rather, he had, but he hadn't called back after Gus

had called him back. In fact, Sam's phone had gone
straight to voicemail for days.

Gus had been worried at first, calling around to see if

Sam had let anyone know he was sick or out of touch or
anything. As far as everyone knew, including Pete, Sam
had been closing up his penthouse and finishing up his
last job and all…

Gus had to admit, it pissed him right off that Sam

wasn't answering his calls. If puss had fucking second
thoughts, the least he could do was call and let Gus
know. He'd thought… well, he'd thought a lot of things.

Now he was out of cell range anyway. Sam could

have his long vacation alone, if that was what he
wanted. Gus would go play in the dirt. As soon as he got
back to the world, though, he was going to kick Sam's
ass. Then he'd love the man into a puddle and explain
how he'd pretty much assumed they'd had a date.

Maybe he just hadn't made it clear. He'd said 'I love

you', but had Sam believed it? Sam had been through a
lot with the pack. Maybe he needed to be convinced to
trust.

Gus grumbled, the urge to wolf out and hunt strong.

Instead, he lit a cigarette headed back down into the
mine. He'd have to provision soon, go to the trading
post. For now, though, he'd get back to work.

That was his kind of vacation, after all.
He wondered what kind Sam liked to take.

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Chapter Eighteen

"Kitty? Dude? Man, you need to eat. If you don't eat

you'll die."

Sam whined softly, the room spinning, swimming

around him. He groaned as he tried to change, muscles
fighting to get into the form that would heal the fastest,
be the most mobile.

"I'm serious, man. You have to wake up. You can't

change. They've drugged you. You just need to eat."

"Gus." Whoever that was smelled like wolf, like

Pack, and Sam was praying they knew Gus.

"No. No, I don't know a Gus. Come on, kitty. Please.

If you don't eat..." A soft hand touched his cheek.
"They'll kill both of us. I need you to open your mouth."

Everything hurt -- his hands, his arms, his face, his...

He couldn't feel his legs.

His eyes popped open again. "My legs."
"They're hurt, man, bad. I. They had someone in to

make you stop screaming."

No.
No.
No. He reached up, clawing at her, a wild yowl

tearing from him, but the little blonde girl didn't back
away, just grabbed his hands and held on tight. His legs.

"Listen to me." She shook him as he fought, tearing

at her clothes, her hair.

His legs.
He was a dancer.
A dancer.
No.
"Listen to me, damn it!" She slapped him hard, and

his head slammed into the wall behind him, making him
see stars. "It's reversible. I asked. I made sure. It's

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reversible. You have to stick with me. I'm here to help
you."

"You're only a puppy."
She snorted. "I'm old enough, and I'm not chained up

like you are, kitty. I'll take it."

"Who..." He shook his head, gagged. "Why?"
She looked behind her, face pale. "Cedric took over.

You're an example."

"Why me?" He was harmless. Shit, he'd been leaving.
"You've got cash, you've been there forever, and you

smell like Pack. You're like a... species traitor or
something, I guess."

"And what are you?" She was obviously lupine, not

feline, but she smelled of tomcat.

"Fucked. Deeply. But I haven't given up, how about

you?"

"I have a mate."
"Okay." She leaned down, stared him in the eyes, and

it hit him, how young she was, really. "So eat and tell
me about him, and I'll figure something out."

Sam opened up, drank the broth, and tried to decide

whether to believe.

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Chapter Nineteen

Gus wandered around the trading post, which was a

fairly recent addition to the reservoir area. Gus hated
that the cities encroached almost everywhere, but Barret
could still be pretty remote, which made him damned
happy. There were two other people in the store, and
they both worked there.

It was awesome.
He wandered, popping this and that into his bag. He

didn't need much -- well, he'd done a number on his
supplies during the moon, but he was going to finish this
dig and then go get his puss, damn it. The phone was
still going right to voice mail, but Gus was sick of
waiting. He had a big piece to pry out of the ground, but
then Sam.

The thought of Sam rushed over him in a wave,

making him ache deep in his chest for a second. God, he
missed the slinky son of a...

"You bastard. What did you do to him?" The voice

hissing in his ear was fierce, furious, and the pressure
against one kidney was undeniably a knife.

His hands automatically went up, the can of tuna he'd

picked up rolling away. "Who the fuck..."

"Don't move." That was Gray, Sam's brother,

standing in front of him, white eyes eerie. "Helena is
fierce and she'll let you bleed out, right here. Where is
our brother?"

"Which one?" What the hell were the blind one and

the non-shifter doing off pack lands or out of the city?
They could get themselves killed.

"Which one? You fuck!" That blade dug in, piercing

his shirt, Helena's growl as lupine as any shifter. "We
went there to help him, and his place... Your scent is all
over it!"

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"I stayed there when I got back to the States!" What

the hell? What was going on? "What's wrong with his
place?"

Gray growled. "Don't. Don't fuck with us. We know

it's bad. We saw. We just want to help him."

"Bad?" Panic started to grow in his chest. "Bad

how?"

Gray's nostrils flared. "He doesn't smell like he's

lying, Sister."

"He's always hated Sam." Helena snarled, the sound

frustrated and angry.

Gus backed off a step. "Sam... I have to. Shit." He

turned and pelted out of the store, heading for his truck.
If something was wrong with Sam and he'd just been
ignoring it because he was pissy…

He heard them following him, Gray's blindness not

slowing the big body in the slightest. He didn't waste
time trying to explain, though. He just slid behind the
wheel, mind calculating the easiest way to get to Sam.

"Don't you run from us!" Helena's hands slammed

down on the hood of his truck, denting it.

"Fuck you." He growled it out, barking at her. "I need

to get to Sam."

"Where is he? Is he here?" She looked frantic.

"Goddamn it! What happened to him?"

"I don't know. You tell me." He was going to run her

down. "He was fine when I left. Supposed to call me. He
never did."

Gray reached through the window, hand on his arm.

"He emailed about having to work. He emailed us."

"What?" Gus had gotten that same damned email. It

had pissed him off enough not to call. "He was supposed
to be done. He called. Said he was taking a vacation. I
thought he was joking."

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"Yes, but he emailed us. Us. About work. He never

does that. We see him in Chicago once a year.
Together."

Helena nodded. "That's why we went up. Because he

obviously needed help."

"Fuck. Either get in the truck or get out of my way."

He was going to kill something.

"Gray?" Helena asked, and Gray nodded.
"In."
They piled into the truck with him, and Gus peeled

out, fishtailing just enough to make Helena white-
knuckled. "Tell me everything."

"He emailed, and it was weird -- too weird, and

things are so hard for him out there, so I talked to Gray
and we went." Helena's fingers were tangled with
Gray's. "The apartment is destroyed, there's blood
everywhere, and your scent. We knew you two had...
fought?"

"Broken up," Gray offered.
"Whatever. So we came here."
"We didn't fight." Things were hard there? Sure, Sam

had a bad neighborhood, and he didn't go out much, but
damn. How hard could it be if he stayed inside like he
swore he did? "You couldn't track him at all?"

"Not outside, not in all that filth, and..." Helena

shrugged. "There's a lot more of them than us."

"Them?" He was going to go crazy, talking to these

two. He should have left them. San Diego was closest.
He'd go there, bully his way on the first flight.

"The cats? In the city?" Gray looked confused. "The

ones that hurt him?"

"What are you talking about?" Goddamn it, why

hadn't Sam told him? He'd been to Sam's place only
once, and he'd hated it… Maybe Sam had tried. They'd

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talked a little about how Sam never did anything but
work, but Gus had shrugged it off.

"Jesus Christ, Gus, how stupid are you? Where do

you think the fucking scars come from?" Helena could
be a harpy. "Dancing isn't usually an art form with
claws."

"Oh, fuck off, bitch. I have scars from fighting with

Pete that are that bad." How the hell was he supposed to
know? He had scars from digging, from being beaten in
Afghanistan.

"Wow. Good thing he hooked up with your family."

Helena growled back.

Christ. He was so leaving her at the fucking airport.

She was a harpy, and he didn't have time for this shit.

"Helena, you're not helping." Gray sighed. "He

always had trouble with the felines; he smelled like
Pack, you know? Sam... sometimes I think it would have
been easier for him if they'd left him to die as a cub. He
doesn't fit anywhere."

"I should have made him come with me." He should

have fucking insisted. He shouldn't have doubted Sam
for a minute. Guilt was a bitch.

"He's a dancer. He stayed because he loved it."
Gray growled at his sister. "He stayed because it was

habit and he was fucking scared."

"Okay, stop fighting with each other and tell me

about these cats."

"They run the city. Aren't many wolves there. They

didn't like Sam." Gray sighed. "There was a lot of
trouble, a lot of payoffs. Then less trouble the longer
Sam stayed."

"He means Sam got smarter, more careful."
"I mean that Sam was a stubborn fuckhead who

wouldn't come home!"

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"Like either of us stayed home, asshole." Helena

snapped. "You're only there because you're blind!"

It sounded like a Broadway musical gone bad. Cats

turns West Side Story. Bizarre. Gus knew where to look
now, though.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Gray asked. "I

assume you have some idea where he is?"

"I'm going to the airport. He's never left town, I can

bet on it. He called me, and he was coming to me, and
then someone got to him."

Helena nodded, changing her tune a little on him

being the bad guy. "We're coming with you."

"You'll slow me down." Gus bit off the second

sentence, which was 'he's my mate'.

"Too fucking bad." She growled at him. "He's ours.

Our brother. We have to help him."

Oh, Gus didn't think so. "You're gonna have to share,

honey. We mated."

"What?" Helena stared, and Gray's head popped up

between them.

"Did he just say..."
Helena nodded. "Uh-huh."
"No fucking way."
"Get used to the idea, kiddies." He needed to call

Pete, too, get some help mobilized at home. He couldn't
take Sam back to the pack lands to recover, that would
just be a bad idea, but Pete could provision one of Gus'
bolt holes.

"You and Sam? But you're one of us..."
It made Gus a little sick, that even the sibs who loved

Sam the best, were the closest to him, didn't think of him
as one of them. Hell, his family kind of felt that way
about him. He guessed that made them perfect for each
other. "Well, now he's one of mine."

Helena shook her head. "Well, I. Wow."

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Gray chuffed softly. "Does that mean I get to bite you

now? Since you're family?"

"Nope." No biting. Lord. They hit the suburbs in

record time, and Gus took the airport spur, his tires
squealing a little.

Helena had been fucking with her fancy phone. "I

have us flights that leave in four hours. Should I get
hotel rooms?"

Such a city girl. "Yeah. Gray will have to be our

command center, and he'll need a place to hole up."

"I have medical supplies back in the rental car, which

is, unfortunately, back there..." Gray's nose wrinkled. "I
don't suppose Pete will come deal with it?"

Helena snorted. "Tell him to bring Lizzie and he'll

come. She's his wife, after all."

"No shit?" Huh. They'd actually gotten married and

Pete hadn't invited him... "Pete will come."

"Find us a medical supply place in the city that will

deliver, Sister."

Helena looked back at Gray, eyebrow arched like he

could see it. "You mean we're not going to hospitalize
him?"

"I thought we'd just kill him and put him out of his

misery," Gray shot back.

Ah, siblings. Gus rolled his eyes. "Hospitals bad,

kids."

Helena actually laughed, chuffing softly. The sound

didn't last long, though, before it faded. "He's okay,
right? You'd know, if he was..."

Gus tried not to rumble at her. "I'd like to think so,

yeah. We didn't get to spend much time bonding. And
I've been grumpy at him."

"Are you sure? I mean, he's a cat, Gus. Can we do

that?" Gray looked utterly confused.

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"I'm sure." That he knew, deep down. It was fucked

up, but it was his.

"Well, good."
Helena looked at Gray, wide-eyed. "Good?"
"Yes. Sam deserves a mate."
Jesus, Gray ran hot and cold. Of course, Sam's whole

family were weirdos, so why not have him be a strange
one?

Helena rolled her eyes. "Mom will be so pleased."
Gray nodded. "I think she will."
"Only if we manage to get him back." He was ready

to snarl. Maybe to ditch the truck and run across
country...

"We will. We have to." Helena growled low. "We

have to, Gus."

They did. He wouldn't accept anything else. He just

needed to get to the East coast. Then he would track
Sam down and never let the man go again.

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Chapter Twenty

"Sammy? Sammy, open your eyes."
He growled softly, refusing to move. Gus was

supposed to come, but it was taking so long.

So long.
He'd stopped trying to move, stopped fighting it.
Marina came often, talking to him, cleaning him,

feeding him. Sam wasn't sure, but he thought that he'd
stopped breathing a few times. The big males had
stopped coming when he started stinking. It was a
blessing, he thought.

Maybe.
"Open your eyes. I found the antidote, so you can

change. I'm saving it, though. I have to take the thing out
of your back, so your legs have a chance, but it'll hurt.
It'll hurt a lot."

He tried to follow what she said. In the beginning,

he'd talked to her, told her about Ma and Poppy, about
Helena and Lizzie and Gray and Pete. About Gus. His
Gus.

Sam smiled, remembering the way his wolf growled,

the way Gus bit and touched him, made him purr. He
hadn't wanted to purr for so long.

"Sam!" She held his nostrils closed until he gasped,

blinked at her.

"Bitch."
"There you are. You were fading." She looked

worried. Sam didn't blame her at all. He was worried.

"Sorry. I was..."
"Stoned. I know. Did you hear me?" She stroked his

hair out of his face. "I don't want to do it, but it I'm
going to get you out, I have to. I don't know if your Gus
is coming, but you're not going to make it if I don't
move soon."

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"He'll come." Gus had to come.
"Okay, then when he does, I'll be ready." She had

tears in her eyes, and she smelled like regret. "I'm so
sorry, Sammy. I hate this."

He managed a grin. "Not as much as I will, I bet."
Marina sniffled, nodded. "I know. Tell me you'll

forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive, honey. Do it." Whatever it was,

he would cope.

She reached behind him, fiddling with something in

his spine, and a fire started to build, down where his toes
were covered by the filthy blanket. He winced,
shuddered.

"I'm sorry, Sam. It's going to get worse."
He growled, deep in his chest. "Quit apologizing,

girl. You're Pack. Act like it. I'll be fine."

She stood, chin lifted as she looked down at him.

"You're sure?"

"Positive." A fresh wave of pain hit him, and he knew

it was a lie, but she was about to have to go, so it didn't
matter.

Sam was beginning to believe nothing mattered.

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Chapter Twenty-One

Gus stared at the carnage that was Sam's glittery

funhouse apartment. There were signs of a heavy-duty
struggle, there was blood, and how Helena and Gray
could say the place smelled like him was beyond Gus. It
smelled like male cat spray.

Luckily, this was a scent he could track, because it

wasn't Sam.

Something tickled his face, and he reached up, the

feather that was dangling from the ceiling spattered with
blood, and that made him want to howl. It wasn't right.
None of this was right. He growled, the sound bubbling
deep in his chest. He hated this not knowing, not being
able to feel Sam in this place without the bad energy.

"Where do we start?" Helena was ghost white, and

Gray... Gray was barely holding it together.

"We start with you putting your cell number in my

phone, then taking Gray and getting us some sort of bolt
hole and that medicine." He needed them away.

"I can help." Gray's growl was near desperate, and

Helena caught Gus' eyes, shook her head.

"You can help more by being my command center,

man. We need a place to bring Sam. If these kitties are
as bad as you say, I need you on the horn getting us out
of town."

"Hand me your phone, man. Gray, should we hunt

clothes for him?"

"He'll want something soft..." Gray was tight around

the mouth, but calmer.

Helena handed him his phone back. "We're in there.

We'll find a safe place -- unless you want me to clean
this."

"Not yet. I may need the scent again." Even if it made

him gag.

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"Okay. We'll find a suite somewhere." Helena's hand

wrapped around Gray's arm. "We've got to get ready for
him."

"Yeah. Call me and let me know. I need you out;

your scent is distracting."

Helena nodded, dragging Gray out. "Find him."
"Got it." He would. He so would. As soon as they got

far enough away that their scent faded. Gus closed his
eyes, letting his other senses take over.

It was Sam that hit him first -- his mate's scent

wrapped in pain and fury and fear. Underneath that were
others -- strangers to him, more than one, males. They
had been angry, violent, but not murderous. They had
taken Sam with them.

Someone wanted to make an example of Sam, he

would bet on it.

He couldn't decide if he was going to beat the living

fuck out of Sam for not telling him -- telling someone --
that this shit had been going on, or be so proud of his
mate's strength that he couldn't bear it. One way or the
other, it wouldn't matter if he didn't start tracking. He
figured in this instance he was glad he was more feral
than his family, or his mate. He could do this.

He headed outside, searching, but the trail only led

him to the top of the stairs. So many people. So fucking
many feet. Gus growled, heading back into Sam's
apartment. He had to focus on one thing, on one scent,
the strongest one.

The scent of something new hit his nose on his third

trip in and out.

A wolf.
A female.
Not Helena.
Okay. Okay, this one had a hint of fear and a ton of

frustration, and she smelled like Sam, as well. A fresher

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scent than the apartment should have. This he could
follow.

He headed all the way down the stairs, turned left,

her scent still there. Yes. He started moving faster,
following the smell, imagining the click of her high
heels. She was the kind of girl who would wear heels,
with her lemony-floral undertone and her spicy natural
scent.

It was the frustration that drove him, led him. She

had come back here, over and over.

What the hell was she doing? What did she want? It

had to be something he could use.

He walked for hours, losing the scent and having to

backtrack before finding it again, over and over. He
followed her every damned where she'd been in the last
week, probably, but he finally found a scent that led to
the same place, over and over. Now he had to make a
plan.

He went to the restaurant across the street -- a dingy,

all-night coffee shop that had seen better days, but was
still in business, thank God -- and finagled himself a
table by the window. He ordered himself a cup of
coffee, a plate of eggs, then settled in to look. The sign
above the door said Imports, but very little else.

Imports. He didn't have to be a city boy to know that

meant all sorts of unsavory things. He'd watched his
crime TV as a kid. Hopefully Miss Frustrated would
appear sooner rather than later and have all the answers
Gus needed.

He'd eaten his eggs, toast, a piece of pie, and drank

four cups of coffee, when a pack of slinky, well-dressed
men walked into the place and he saw a tall, leggy
blonde lock the front door behind them. About twenty
minutes later, those bright red heels were on the
pavement, blonde hair covered by a black, hooded coat.

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Gus slipped the waiter a couple of twenties and

followed, keeping downwind as much as he could. She
walked steadily for a few blocks, then started moving
fast -- faster than he'd expect in those shoes. It was all he
could do to keep up with her; she obviously knew the
city.

She disappeared about half a block in front of him,

and he ran to catch her, yelping in surprise as he came
face to face with the muzzle of a revolver. "What do you
want?"

"My mate." What else was he gonna say? I like your

coat?

"What the fuck are you talking about?" The hammer

came back, that click sounding so fucking loud.

"His name is Sam. He's a dancer. You go to his

apartment once a day, at least." She could shoot him all
she wanted; he had to get Sam.

"Who are you? What's your fucking name?"
"My name is Gus." He stared, not at the gun, but right

into her eyes. "He's mine, and I came to get him back."

"Oh, thank God. I'm Marina. Come on." The gun was

slipped away, and those long legs started moving again.

Gus shook off his stunned reaction and followed,

hoping to god this wasn't a set up, but if it was, he would
fight his way out.

She led him on a wild goose chase, up and down

alleyways, ending up climbing a set of stairs behind
some weird tea shop. "This is a safe place. Did you
bring help or is it just you?"

"I have a base camp and someone who can help in a

pinch." It looked seedy, not safe.

"Okay. There's a lot of them. I've kept him alive, but I

can't get him out, not without them taking me."

Gus shook his head. "You're not one of them. How

did you keep him alive?" It didn't make sense.

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"Carefully. Lots of shitty drugs. He screams

sometimes. It's loud, but it's the best thing I have."

Yeah, but why?
"Tell me who you are." It was time for quid pro quo.
"Marina." She looked him in the eyes. "I already told

you that."

"No, that's your name. I want to know why a wolf is

living with cats." That was important, somehow.

"That's none of your business. Do you want to know

where he is or what?" The air was filled with the sudden,
tangy flavor of fear, of shame.

"I do." He would help her, too, if he could. He'd had

enough of the whole cats versus dogs bullshit. They
could all work together.

"I. They're keeping him in a cold storage room at the

docks. There are a lot of them, though. I'm the only one
they let in there alone."

"Why would they do this?" It was a stupid question,

and Gus knew it. It was one thing for Sam to live on
their territory quietly. It was another entirely to be mated
to a wolf.

One blonde eyebrow lifted. "Don't be stupid. He

reeks of wolf."

"They don't keep you in a box," he snapped, trying

not to tear something to pieces. Anything.

"No. Not anymore." Her coat was opened, her

neckline pulled aside to show scarred and mangled skin
on one shoulder, down toward her breast. "I earned my
way out."

Fuck. That... Jesus. He'd thought those thugs who'd

beaten him up in that fucking sand-flea ridden jail were
harsh. This was...

"Okay. So how do I get to him?"
"There's one door, and it's big. They have guards that

have shifts. I go three times a day -- six in the morning,

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two in the afternoon, ten at night. The guards at night,
they're bored. They chase me a lot."

"Just like kitties, huh?" He shared a look of perfect

understanding with her for a moment. "We wait until
tonight then,"

She nodded. "Do you want me to distract, then? I can

go in, get him unchained, but he can't walk on his own
anymore, I don't think. His legs are bad. They knew he
danced."

Gus bit back the howl that wanted to come out of his

throat, nodding. "I'll call in the cavalry, which I admit, is
one person. But that gives us a getaway driver."

"I have a gun." She grinned, and suddenly Gus saw

how fucking young she was -- twenty, maybe. "Which,
you sort of know."

"I do. I can tell you from experience, though, that

guns make the penalties so much more severe." He tried
to grin for her. "It also sounds the alarm. We'll use it if
we have to."

"I tried to help him." She stepped away from him,

slipped her pistol into her pocket.

"Hey." He reached out, but didn't quite touch,

knowing his body language had to be non-threatening.
"Thank you. I mean it."

"I. They're going to kill me, when they find out what

I've done. Sam... Sammy promised he'd help get me
out."

"Of course he did." Sam would absolutely do that for

anyone who helped him. Or even anyone who needed
help. It was his family's way. Gus stepped up sort of
sideways, like he would if they were in their wolf forms.
He put his hand on her arm. "We'll take you with us."

"Okay." She met his eyes, trembling underneath his

hand. "They're not good. What I don't understand is why

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they haven't killed him yet. He won't sign over his
money. He won't cooperate."

"Maybe he's just a challenge. Maybe they think he

has a sugar daddy." Hell, he didn't know. He just knew
he had to put it all on the line to get Sammy back.

"I think Cedric is going to sell him."
"Sell him..." His gut clenched, and he was going to

kill something.

"That's how they got me. I was eleven. There are

people who want... exotic pets."

Christ. He'd heard some seriously fucked up shit in

his life, but this was something he'd never even thought
of. He wanted to hug her, but figured it would be out of
line. Gus cleared his throat instead. "So, we get both of
you out."

"Okay. Okay. Let's get inside somewhere; it's going

to rain, and they watch."

"Okay." He followed her inside the safe house, his

nose working overtime.

The place was tiny, the scent of wolf sharp. Besides

the furniture, there was a duffle, a back pack. That was
it.

"Have a seat. I have a map. I can show you where

they have him."

"That works." They'd look, he'd call Helena, and that

would keep them busy until dark.

God, what was he thinking, staging a rescue with a

stranger, a little slip of a wolf? He hoped to fuck they
could pull this off. They would just have to see.

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Chapter Twenty-Two

Sam panted through his mouth, eyes rolling. Every

fucking bone in his body hurt, and he was ninety-eight
percent sure he wanted to die.

Maybe ninety-nine.
He thought about Gus a lot these days, dreamed

about the warm eyes, the shaggy hair and hot body. His
mate. It was a touch ridiculous that he'd lose his mate
immediately upon finding him. Still, it made sense. No
cat should mate with a wolf, and he was being punished
for it, right? That and he'd made himself both a target
and a curiosity. He should have kept his head down and
done his job and...

"Sammy?" Marina's voice sounded, low and scared.

"Sammy, don't be dead."

He tried to open his eyes, but maybe this time she'd

kill him, let him free.

She hovered over him, her lipstick a dark smear

floating around in his swimmy field of vision.

"Oh, good." She rumbled softly. She smelled so good

today. Somehow, he thought she smelled like Gus. How
weird was that?

Sam made a soft sound, his claws retracting and

pushing. No, not claws, fingers.

"That's right. He's here. He came, just like you said. I

need you to wake up, Sam."

No. No, Gus was gone. This was a trick that Cedric

had forced Marina to perform. He couldn't blame her,
but he wanted to bite her anyway.

She reached out to touch the cage, and he could smell

Gus, right there on her arm. "You have to wake up."

"Gus?" Was that his voice?

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"Soon, Sam. Soon. You have to be ready for him,

now. Tonight." Her voice was an urgent, growling
whisper.

Sam blinked. "Tonight?"
"Yeah. I have to go. I'm going to give you a little

shot, which will be a boost, and unlock you. You get
ready."

"A shot." He was a cat. Did she know how to dose a

cat? Shit. Gus was there? Really there? He might just
fall over. "Please don't lie to me."

"I haven't lied to you yet. Your mate says they'll

bring me, too. That I'll come, too." Oh, sweet baby.

"They?" His lips were so dry that every word felt like

sandpaper passing over them, and he wanted to scream
when the shot went in.

"Your brother and sister. Please, get ready." The

silver cuffs fell from his ankles, his wrists. "Soon.
Minutes, okay?"

He tried to answer, but his mouth wouldn't work. The

room was beginning to breathe, expanding and
contracting like his eyes were bulging or something. He
might be able to walk. Maybe. Marina slipped away like
smoke, and he was left wondering if he'd hallucinated it
all.

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Chapter Twenty-Three

Gus waited what seemed like an eternity for Marina

to get into position. She talked to Sam first; he could see
that from his vantage point just inside the door to the
main floor of the big building. The guards had sectioned
off a comfy little set of chairs and couches and set up a
TV.

Thank God for the kitty need for creature comforts.
She was wearing a tight little tank top, that was

totally inappropriate for the weather, and a pair of jeans
small enough that he could have read her pulse. Still,
even Helena had to admit that Marina was a distraction,
moving around the guards, rubbing on them. Gray had
no idea. Too bad the guy couldn't see it. They had
brought him along, though, because he'd refused to stay
behind. He would be their ears for any approaching
reinforcements. Guy had amazing hearing. And, in wolf
form, Gray was huge and the fiercest bastard Gus had
ever met. It made sense; god knew the man had had to
fight for everything. The whole family was a cluster
fuck. Honestly. Gus grinned a little, thinking how he'd
tell Sam that.

Sam. The grin faded. He could smell Sam, hurt and

sad and desperate.

One guard had Marina up against the wall, rubbing,

and the other two were watching, pacing.

Gus bit back his growl; he would take her with him,

for sure, take her to the pack and let them teach her what
freedom felt like.

Marina's hand slipped to the back of one kitty,

heading toward his gun, and Helena growled. "Get
ready, boys. She's making her move."

Gus tensed his muscles, then released, letting out his

breath so his first burst of movement wouldn't fill his

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muscles with carbon dioxide. Then he pulled back up,
ready to go.

Helena made the first move, stumbling into the light

with her pistol carefully hidden. "Excuse me? My car's
outside, and I..."

One kitty growled and stood, the one around Marina

turned and Marina snatched the pistol, shooting the man
between the shoulder blades.

Fuck. It was on, now. That little girl had some rage.

Gus sprang into action, churning up the distance
between them and the guards, taking down the one on
the right of Marina.

Helena's shot rang out, taking out the third guy, the

man going down like a lead balloon. So much for no gun
play. Damn.

Gus didn't have a gun, but he had plenty of oomph,

and it didn't take much to break guard number two's
neck. Not much effort at all.

"Go get him, hurry." Marina was stripping the one

guy's body, stomping his phone, grabbing the wallet.

He would trust her to do the job on the guards. He

barked at Helena to follow him. He'd need her help.

The scent of urine and rot hit him when he opened

the door, and he gagged, ducking as a huge, black mess
scrabbled out of the room, dragging its back legs,
hissing and spitting.

"Sam!" He called out, putting every ounce of

whatever it was he and Sam had together into his voice.
Christ. He was going to just lose it if Sam didn't know
him.

Sam stopped short and spun around, huge, stoned

eyes staring at him, searching his face. For a long
moment he didn't think Sam was in there, then Sam
started toward him. He caught his kitty just as Sam fell,
hoisting up that too-skinny body.

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"Come on, babe. Helena, watch our back trail.

Marina, get your butt going!"

"I'm right here. I have all their weapons." Marina

grabbed a coat -- thank god, because she looked like
Carrie on prom night.

"Good girl." Sam didn't weigh near enough. His puss

had always been deceptively heavy, but not now. Damn
it.

Sam yowled furiously, talking to him, making this

wild noise. Yeah. Yeah, he got that. They had to get out.
"Gray! Coming your way."

Gray's bark answered him, the huge, white wolf at his

calf as he turned the corner. Damn, that was a sight. No
wonder no one had dared come to the guards' rescue.
Those gunshots had been audible, but what kitty wanted
to face tricked-out Gray? Blind or not, he looked like a
berserker.

Helena got to the van first -- and he suddenly

appreciated the idea, even as much as he'd screamed
earlier about them picking fucking Maine for their hidey
hole instead of staying closer. Jesus. They could drive
out of the city, just go and keep going. He tossed Sam at
Helena, grabbed Marina, who was slowing down, and
barked for Gray. Come on, come on.

Gray leapt for the van, scrambling up, and he tossed

Marina in, her body strangely light; she was agile,
though, wrapping around Sam. "Go. Go. Go."

They tore out, the late hour and the relatively

deserted area making it easy for them to get the tires
spinning. Helena was definitely a desert girl. She could
flat out drive.

Gray howled, licking at Sam, and Marina was

growling, covered in blood, protecting Sam. Gus was
going to bite someone.

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He took a deep breath. "Gray, get a grip. I'll need you

to help with the medicine. You, breathe." He glowered
at Marina until she stared back, panting.

Then he looked at Sam. "Hey, Puss."
Sam's eyes met his, wild and unfocused and hurting.

Jesus. This was... Those motherfuckers. He wanted to
howl. He wanted to go back and find every cat that had
hurt Sam and kill them. He couldn't. Sam needed him to
hold it together. He touched his mate, fingers on the
matted fur. There were bones grinding under there,
scabs, raw spots. Rage built in him, and he pushed it
back. Sam needed him, his care, not the anger. "C'mere,
Puss. Let me hold you now."

Sam yowled softly, crawled into his lap where he sat

in the van. Marina grabbed one of the blankets and
offered it over. Nodding his thanks, he wrapped it
around them, ignoring the stench that rose from Sam's
fur.

Sam was muttering, talking to him hard, and while

his brain didn't understand the mewls and chirps, his
soul got it. He'd come and Sam had waited. Just like his
puss had rescued him, he'd saved Sam.

Gray was pushing Marina down, cleaning her, and

she twisted, yelping. "Hey!"

That gave Gus his first smile of the night. "He's just

helping, honey. Grooming."

Gray growled happily, tail thumping. This poor girl --

she had no pack structure, no kin, and she'd been
brutalized. Gray, on the other hand, came from one of
the most dysfunctional, yet normal wolf families around.
It was going to be a fun trip.

"The shot I gave him's going to wear off. He'll need

pain killers." Marina squeaked. "That's my belly!"

"He can't see it if you get naked." He stroked Sam's

back. "Did you get the kit I asked for, Helena?"

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"Of course. We're heading up to Maine. There's

enough remote area there. Did I tell you?"

"Five times." Maine. Christ. He wasn't sure anywhere

on the East Coast was going to be far enough away, but
there were moose there or something, right? Jesus.

"Gray, will you quit licking her!"
Gray's huge head turned toward him, then the big

wolf headed for Sam.

"Nope. I got this. I promise." He wasn't going to

change in front of Marina, but he would tend to Sam.

Marina just stared. "He's wolfy. I mean, a lot."
"He is. He grew up out in the open, you know?" Gus

liked Gray all the more as a wolf, really.

"Not really. I haven't changed in over three years."
He stared, and even Sam roused a little at that, tail

lashing. That was a relief. With those back legs that
numb and not working, he'd been worried that
something was wrong with Sam's spine. This looked like
it was better.

"Hey, Sammy. You're in there. I like the look."
Sam yowled, plaintive and grumpy, and Gus laughed

for sheer relief. Those green eyes met his, and another
yowl split the air. Poor baby. Gus scratched between
Sam's ears.

"As soon as we're out of town, we'll stop, puss. Rest."
Marina handed him a syringe. "Pain killers. It'll help,

huh?"

"Thanks." He took the shot and pushed it into the

skin at the back of Sam's neck, boom. The dose had
been pre-measured, so he didn't worry on it.

Sam didn't even respond to the actual shot, the cat's

muzzle on his free hand, asking for more touches. Gus
gave them willingly, stroking the poor, abused body,
happy that Sam was alive, if not kicking.

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When the shot hit, for a terrible, terrible second Gus

thought Sam had died on him, the huge body going
boneless. Then Sam took a deep, shuddering breath, then
another, before relaxing into the regular rhythm of sleep.

Thank God. Who knew how long it was going to take

Sam to heal, but he was safe now. Gus would make sure
of it.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

He smelled snow, but he was warm.
He hadn't been warm in days, but he was now.
He liked it.
Sam was fairly sure he was dead. More than fairly

sure, even. How else could he explain the soft bed and
blankets, the smell of Gus all around him? They were
never going to let him go.

Sam thought about curling in around the soft, heady

scent of Gus, but that would hurt. Or would it? He tried,
and yowled. That was no fair, to be dead and still hurt,
damn it.

"Shh. It's okay, babe. I have some pills. I ground

them up and put them in clam juice. I know you like
that." That was so not Marina.

"Am I dead?" He started shivering as he tried to wake

up.

"No, babe. We stopped that process." Gus' breath

brushed across his cheek. "Wake up, puss, and tell me
hello."

"You're real? You swear? Because I saw you a lot

when I was in there."

"Helena and Gray found me, babe." Gus bent, kissing

his mouth, and oh. Oh, real.

His eyes flew open, searching Gus' eyes. His Gus.

Oh, God. Real. Real. Gus. GUS.

"Hey, puss." Gus smiled, and there was relief in those

dark eyes.

"Hey." All he could do was stare. Well, stare and

drink the juice Gus fed him. It was briny and raw and so
good that he wanted to cry. Protein and juice. Woo. It hit
his belly with a gurgle, making him gasp in air as he
fought to keep it down.

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"That's it, puss. Just breathe for me. I know. I know."

Gus was a terrible nurse, but he was clearly trying.

He eased back, staring, refusing to look away even

for a second. "Where are we?"

"Uh..." Gus glanced around, finally grabbing

something off a table near the bed. "Maine."

"Ah. Snow." The room turned a little blue around the

edges. "Marina?"

"She's with Gray and Helena in another cabin." Gus

stroked his cheek.

"You brought her. I said you would." His head was

heavy. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too. You're gonna kick me when you

find out what I thought." Gus was petting him, easing
him down into the place where the pain wasn't so bad.

"You thought I'd left. I should have come, that day. I

should have come to you." He'd been saying it over and
over.

"I should never have left without you." Gus laughed a

little. "We were so new. Not leaving you now."

"I don't know. They hurt my legs. Bad." He didn't

remember much, didn't want to remember much, but
what he did recall was harsh.

"I know, babe. You're healing. Helena says she

knows someone who can do acupuncture to help it
along." He could hear the growl in Gus' voice, the rage.

He nodded, thoughts scattering wildly. "Do you think

they'll want to kill me at home? Since I'm broken?"

"The pack, you mean?" Gus seemed to ponder that

for a long while. "I think we need to wait awhile before
a gathering, maybe. But no, I think they think you're
pretty broken already."

"Excellent point." A wave of sheer hysteria hit him,

and he panted through it, the room spinning. "Did they
hurt you?"

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"No. No, babe." Gus moved even closer, stretching

out next to him. "It's the drugs, huh? Just breathe."

He nodded, tried to breathe. It wasn't easy, though,

and the only thing that kept him from panic was Gus,
right there. Solid. Warm. Real, He'd dreamed of Gus,
held onto the memory of their time together during all
the torture.

"I got you."
"I thought..." Hell, who knew what he thought?
"I know. You never even said you loved me." It

wasn't blame. He could tell. It was more like
commiseration.

"I do. You know it. Mate. We're mates." Right? Still?
"Yes. God, yes." That mouth pressed gently to his,

Gus telling him more physically than verbally.

The flavor of Gus hit him, and he did yowl then,

crying out into the kiss. Gus held him while he shook,
while everything that had happened sort of seemed to try
to get out of him all at once. The cat wanted out, fought
him, and he snarled and twisted, fighting it, the urge.
The moon wasn't full. It wasn't full, damn it. Gus held
him, which made it easier to hold it together, made it
better. His. His mate. After what felt like years, but was
probably seconds, he went boneless, panting through the
jolts of pain.

"Better. I can give you another pill in three hours.

Why don't you try to sleep again?"

"I'm okay." He didn't want to sleep. He didn't want to

find out he'd been dreaming.

"Okay, so, talk to me." Gus rubbed noses with him.
"Did you find your rocks?" It had been something

with a mite, Sam thought.

"Yeah. I got one big piece that will go for maybe ten

thousand."

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"Good for you. I was hoping you did." That was a lie.

He'd hoped Gus was miserable and coming to look for
him.

"You know I dig to escape shit, babe. I was worried

that you'd changed your mind."

"I don't think I can. You're mine." Balls to bones.
"Yep." Gus seemed way more cheerful about it than

he had been before he'd left.

"I don't know what to do next, really." It felt like a

confession.

"Heal, babe. We're safe here. Helena has it all worked

out how to cross into Canada if we need to."

"I fought them." He hadn't, not for a long time, but he

had this time.

"You did good. Marina told us how brave you were."
He shook his head. He didn't know about that, but he

hadn't died, hadn't let them have anything. That would
have to be enough. Right? Enough? He shook his head
again, tried to clear it. Everything was... distant.

"It's the drugs, Puss. Just try to go back to sleep." It

was weird how Gus seemed to be reading his mind.

"I don't want to dream. I don't want to wake up."
"It's safe now, though." Gus tilted his head back

gently to peer into his eyes. "I'm right here."

"You're real?" He knew it was stupid, but...
"I am. Right here, babe. Sleep."
He tried to purr, but he didn't have any of those left.

So he slept instead.

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Chapter Twenty-Five

Gus watched Sam sleep, still, and tried not to fret. It

had been days, and usually guys like him and Sam
healed better than this. Man, he wanted a cigarette.

"They really did a number on him, huh?" He grinned

a little at Marina, who handed him a cup of coffee.

"They tried to break him, I think. I thought he'd die.

The doctor said the thing in his back was..." She sighed.
"Harsh."

"He's stronger than he looks." Gus had found that out,

over and over.

"He is. They drugged him with something that kept

him from changing, but when I gave him the uppers, he
changed, and I thought it was all fixed. He'd heal faster
as a cat, right?"

"He would, yeah." At least Gus supposed he would.

Who knew, with his weird catness? That made him
chuckle.

Marina smiled back, head ducking. "Thank you, you

know? For bringing me."

"You had to get out of there, hon." There was no way

he could have left her. She felt like pack already.

"I know." She met his eyes. "I saw him, and I

couldn't let them kill him."

"Thank you." He grinned. They had a mutual

admiration thing. "I'll take you to Sam's mom. She's
good at easing new members into the pack. Once you
get used to being a wolf, you can go where you want,
but I think you need to be somewhere safe."

"He told me stories about her. His dad just died,

huh?"

"Yeah. Not long ago." He sighed. "They've had a

rough time."

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She nodded, and Gus wanted to growl, snarl at the

assholes who'd hurt her. Instead, he patted her roughly
on the shoulder. "You'll like their family, hon. I can't
promise no one else will lick you."

"Yeah, Gray's a little... licky."
Helena came in, stomping snow off her feet. "You

know it. I have to make plans to get back to Chicago
soon, Gus. My firm is screaming. What do you need
from me?"

"I need to know we won't be bothered by a local

pack, that we can stay here at least two weeks, and I
need you and Gray to talk to your mom about Marina."

"Gray's already spoken to her. She wants to come

here and nurse Sammy. Alpha gave me the address for
this place; the pack here is related to him -- a sister?"
Jesus, the girl was preternaturally efficient.

"No on your mother, yay on the pack." He didn't need

Sam's mom here. Sam would freak out.

Helena chuffed softly, the sound tickled. "That's what

I told Gray. He's pouting."

"As long as he quits licking people." Gray didn't get

out much, poor guy. "He can stay."

"He's still fuzzy, f.y.i." Gray had the hardest time

switching back. "I fed him, but he's wanting to get in
here to Sam."

"So, let him in. Sam won't mind a grooming." He

winked at Marina, who seemed fascinated.

Helena opened the door and whistled, and Gray came

running, the huge wolf's hearing remarkably accurate.
Of course, he guessed the guy was blind, not deaf, right?
You compensated for one with the other.

Gray pounced on the bed, nosing Sam, tongue on the

man's bandages, trying to get under them.

"Gray, you're such a puppy sometimes." Helena

sighed, rolled her eyes. "Turd."

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Gray barked, but Sam didn't even jump, really,

sleeping so hard. Healing.

"You can't get the bandages off, man. They're

important." Marina went over, fingers brushing through
Sam's heavy hair. "You need to get better, kitty."

Sam moaned a little, but didn't pull away. Gus

thought it was amazing, the kind of loyalty his puss
inspired. He'd felt it at the funeral, when he thought he
didn't like the man. He found himself heading over,
fingers on Sam's thigh. He needed to touch, needed to
make sure Sam was still with them and breathing and
not bothered by Gray, who was snuffling Sam's face...

Sam growled softly, one swollen, bruised hand

pushing Gray away. Gray snorted and headed for those
ravaged legs. One had been broken but good; the other
was just torn to hell.

"Stop it, Gray. Not now." He knew that Gray's help

would actually speed healing, but Sam needed rest.
Sleep.

Gray nibbled on Sam's fingers, then headed for

Marina, who backed up.

Gus bit back a chuckle, going for deadpan. "You

need to smell like Pack..."

"Nonsense. No more licking."
Helena snorted. "He's harmless, sweetie. Trust me."
Gray actually looked affronted. Gus could understand

that. No dude liked to be called harmless. "I bet Gray
can kick some ass."

Helena's look was fond. "He is a warrior, our Gray. A

little obsessive, but fierce."

Gray barked happily, tail wagging, reminding Gus of

the joy that came with being in wolf form.

Sam's eyes popped open, rolled. "Love that sound."
"Family, huh?" He stroked Sam's skin, wanting Sam

to be back to normal.

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"Family. Wolves." Sam moved toward him. "Mate."
He caught Sam up against him, glancing at Helena,

who nodded and pulled Gray and Marina out of the
room.

Sam pressed against him, a soft purr sounding. That

lean body was already healing, already better. It was
good to see, and he held Sam close.

"Everything okay?" The rumbling voice vibrated

against him.

"As long as you are, yeah. Okay, I mean." He

scratched Sam's back a little, up and down.

"Trying to be." Sam rippled for him. "That feels

good. I forgot about that."

"You tend to forget how good touch feels after

torture." He'd found that out in a much less horrifying
way in the desert, where they'd beaten him down a little.

"Yeah." Sam looked at him, eyes huge, lost, worried.

"They fucked my legs up."

"You'll heal. It's not permanent." He and Helena had

made sure there was no spinal damage. Marina had done
a damn good job, really. It was just going to take time.

Those eyes closed again, Sam looking a little green

around the edges.

"I know. You need some more of the good meds,

babe?"

"Yeah. I. I don't know what to do."
"You will." Gus had never had a long convalescence,

but he'd been busted up once in a mine collapse, and he
knew it took patience. It was hard.

"I hope so. They were trashing my place, last time I

saw."

"It's a bit of a loss, puss. Helena and Gray pulled

everything out that they could."

Sam nodded, curling into himself, getting smaller,

tighter.

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Gus sighed. "We'll just have to get a new place, huh?

You and me." He was never letting Sam out of his sight
again.

"Yeah? That's not crowding you too much?"
"I may never let you go to the store alone again." He

tried a grin.

It must not have worked, because Sam touched his

face with shaking hands. "I fought them. I swear to
you."

"I know, babe. I know you did. You don't give up."

He took a deep breath, his chest tight.

"I wanted to. By the end, I prayed she'd kill me. She

promised she would, if she couldn't get me out. She's
just a kid, you know?"

Yeah, a deadly, hard as nails kid. What a fucked up

mess. Gus bent and kissed Sam's forehead. "You're
never going back."

"No. I can't. They said I was a traitor."
Gus snorted. "Bullshit. Who raised you? Who loved

you? You were true to your family."

"I was true to my mate."
"You were." That was like a punch to the gut, and he

kissed Sam again, lingering.

Sam curled around him, a restless purr vibrating

against him.

"I got you." He didn't know what else to do but pet

that too-skinny body. It seemed to give them both
comfort.

Slowly, almost painfully, Sam shifted, relaxing into

him, going fuzzy. Oh, fuck. Thank God. That meant
Sam would really start to heal now. He curled around his
Puss, growling softly as his fingers worked through the
heavy pelt.

They would rest together, get Sam well. Then they'd

find a place to call theirs. Just theirs.

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That heavy tail landed on him, holding him close.

Gus grinned. Who the hell was he kidding? Home was
where Sam was.

Period.

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Chapter Twenty-Six

He woke up to silence, dark, and for a long minute he

stayed perfectly still before he panicked, tail lashing,
claws digging into the mattress.

Out.
Out.
OUT.
Something, someone caught him before he fell,

which he was about to do, sharp teeth closing on his
neck, grabbing his ruff.

He yowled, his body trying to draw up, relax, the

motion instinctive.

The one who held him shook him a little, then pushed

him back down on the bed he'd been on, which was soft.
The scent was so familiar, the big body warm... Then
Gray barked, and Sam recognized his adopted brother.

He mewled softly, pushing closer. Brother. Brother, I

was so scared.

Gray barked a little more, talking to him, just letting

him know it was okay now. Sam was safe.

Safe. He nuzzled into Gray's throat, purring hard.

Gray licked his whiskers, missing a little the third time
and getting his eyeball. Ew.

He rolled off the bed, his back legs not working right,

awkward and heavy and odd. He turned to bite at them.
Gray barked again, biting his ear. Sam swiped at Gray,
aggravated. They needed chewing.

"Are you going to wake up the girls, too, or just me?"

Gus came in, wrapped in a crazy flannel robe, hair
sticking up all over. He had a cup of coffee in one hand,
so Sam thought maybe Gus had been awake and had
asked Gray to sit with him.

He yowled and hissed, explaining clearly that he'd

been asleep and now he wasn't. Now he needed his legs

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fixed. Gray barked along in chorus, and Gus rolled his
eyes.

"God help me. I thought it was you and Pete who

were always trouble. Gray always seemed so quiet." Gus
gave Gray a quelling look, which wouldn't help at all,
since Gray couldn't see.

He chuffed, leaning into Gray as his brother mouthed

him lazily.

"Better? You want something to eat, babe?"
Sam pulled himself over to his mate, landed heavily

on the man's legs, and bit Gus' thigh. Why hadn't he
spent more time as a cat?

Gus snorted. "I'll take that as a yes." Gus set the

coffee on the rustic, wooden dresser and hauled him up,
carrying him with an ease that belied the man's human
body. Sam leaned, nose against Gus' throat, inhaling a
scent that was... home.

They didn't go back to the bed. They went out to the

main room of the little cabin, where a soft couch was
outfitted with quilts. Gus placed him on the couch
before going to find him food. Sam curled up, nose to
tail for a second before he started chewing on his legs
again. Something tugged at his ear again, Gray hopping
up next to him on the couch.

He swatted one flank, purred, oddly happy. His

family, or at least part of them, were there, and Gus was
making something that smelled amazing, making his
whiskers twitch. Every time he chewed his back, Gray
stopped him, so he grabbed one leg, started gnawing.
When he got a mouthful of Gray's jowl, though, he
stopped. Oh, yuck. Slimy. Gray laughed at him, and he
started grooming, cleaning Gray's face. They were well
into an obsessive lick-fest when Helena came in, very
human, wearing jeans and a sweater, looking tired but
comfy.

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"You two and the licking."
Sam tried to lash his tail, which sort of worked, but it

was Gray who pounced her, big body taking her down.
Oh, Helena was going to scream.

She did, grabbing Gray's ears and yanking. Gray

howled, Helena growled, and Gus came over to swat
Gray with a spatula. God, this was hilarious. Sam
watched, his claws pressing in and out on his front paws.
Oh, he wanted to play.

"Don't you laugh at me, Sammy." Helena's growl

snapped out, and that just made him more tickled.

Sammy yawned, his teeth aching a little. Hungry. He

yowled, batting at the air.

Gus came out with bowls of food. "Everybody lose

the fur. Time to eat."

Right. Lose the fur.
He concentrated.
Nothing.
"Sam?" Helena came over to stroke his ears. "Can

you try?"

He looked at her, at Gus, yowled. He was. He was

trying.

Skin. Legs. Human. Human. Dancing. He liked

dancing, just like he liked food. He liked being human
with Gus. Hmm.

"Sammy?" Gray nosed him as Helena fretted,

howled.

"You leave him alone, huh?" Gus came over to stroke

his ears.

"He's fuzzy. He's never fuzzy when the moon's not

full."

"He's healing." Gus grinned, tugging the tip of his

ear, making it twitch. "And he's never fuzzy when the
moon isn't full, just like you said. I would bet his body
isn't used to switching at will. He'll learn."

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The ease in Gus' voice relaxed him. If his mate wasn't

worried, he didn't need to be. He rubbed lazily on Gus'
legs, letting his purrs out.

"See? Comfy kitty." Gus scratched him a few more

moments before heading off to cook some more.

He cuddled back on the sofa, Gray sitting with him.

Helena finally stopped fussing and joined them, curling
up down at his feet. It was good, to be with family
again, to be warm and happy.

To be safe. He yowled softly, curious about Marina.
"She's sleeping," Gus answered absently. "Don't

worry."

Silence filled the room until Gus looked up from his

frying pan. "What?"

Helena stared. "You can understand him?"
Sam snorted, bared his teeth. Of course Gus could.
Gus blinked. "Why shouldn't I? He's my mate."
"He's feline."
"Uh-huh." Gus was frowning now, taking the food

off the heat. "We're still mates."

Sam yowled softly. It smelled so good. So good.
"Hungry, babe?" Gus grinned over at him, sliding

stuff on a plate before bringing it to him. Yum.
Sausages. He propped himself up on his forelegs, eating
eagerly. Food. Real food. Good food. Gus was a good
mate, providing for him. Gray tried to steal a bite, and
he bit Gray's nose.

Everyone got food, even Marina, who came

wandering in, wrapped in blankets. She looked tired, but
the hard lines of stress were fading from around her
mouth.

Before she ate, Marina settled next to him, smoothed

his fur. She was sweet. So lonely, too. She was going to
be so surprised to meet the pack.

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He tried out some purring, but he was very busy

eating, very busy lapping the bowl of milk Gus brought
him. Milk was almost as good as tuna. Not quite, but he
guessed tuna might be hard to come by in a cabin in
Maine.

He was full too soon and wanted his mate, wanted to

touch, to snuggle.

His head was bobbing a little when Gus finally came

over, grinning down at him. "Okay. I fed you all. Now,
get out so me and my mate can bond some."

Helena flipped them off, and Gray harrumphed, but

Marina led them out. "Please. Let's nap."

"I have to go, Gus. Sammy." Helena came, scratched

his ears. "I love you, brother. Don't scare me like that
again."

He yowled; he loved her. Dearly, but he just wanted

Gus.

Gus patted Helena awkwardly on the back. "We'll see

you back home when we drop Marina off."

"No you won't. I'll be in Chicago. You'll just have to

come see me."

"Right." Now Gus smacked her on the ass, the sound

popping. "Grumpy."

"Bitch." Helena snapped, then went to go, worry

written in the lines of her shoulders.

Gray barked and went to stand with his paws on her

shoulders. That was a lot of licking. Puppies.

Sam snagged Gus' ass with one paw, dragged him

down. His.

Gus hooted, falling beside him on the sofa, one arm

wrapping around him. "Hey, Puss."

He nuzzled Gus' jaw, purred. Pup.
That had Gus laughing again, just rubbing his ears

and snorting. "I am so not."

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He wiggled up until he could put his paws on either

side of Gus' face, start grooming. His pup. His mate. I
knew you'd come for me. I knew.

Gus nuzzled him, making these low noises. It was

just what he needed to help heal.

He spent long minutes grooming his Gus before

settling down. It was harder to groom a human, but he
managed. His belly was full, his brain slowing down,
panic mode finally fading.

He scented Gus' jaw, barely holding on, not even

quite awake. Gus returned the grooming favor, hands
sliding through his fur, rubbing his sore muscles. Even
the scabs were stroked, the soreness fading fast. Maybe
it was true, the whole healing faster when furry thing.

There was a lot about being a shifter that he just

didn't know for sure. He'd always been so regimented.

It didn't matter.
If nothing else, he knew that. Right now, it didn't

matter.

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Gus watched Sam sleep, watched the end of that tail

twitch as his kitty dreamed.

That was the problem, though. It had been a week.

Sam's wounds were all but healed, aside from some
lingering stiffness in his back end and one deep wound
on his right back leg, near the badly set bone, that wasn't
wanting to close up. The problem was that Sam hadn't
shifted back into a human. At all.

It wasn't near the moon, yet, so it should be easy.
Sam just didn't seem to want to change. He could tell

Sam was trying. It would be nice if he could talk to Sam,
really talk. They were hearing random thoughts, but they
needed to talk to each other, damn it. Gray and Marina
were no help at all.

He growled a little, walked over and tugged Sam's

tail, maybe a little too hard. Sam popped up, yowling.

"Sam! Yoohoo. Can you hear me, Sam?"
Sam growled at him, stretched, showed him long,

white claws.

"Uh-huh. That's nice, puss. Come out and talk to me,

damn it." He'd been nice. Sugary sweet. It was time to
get back to his real ways.

Sam swatted him, vocalizing furiously. He knew Sam

was trying, but damn it, the man needed to try harder.
He needed his mate, and if folks thought they were an
odd couple as people, when they were furry it was
worse. He tugged that amazing tail again.

"Hu-man. Come on, Puss."
He hated how awkward those back legs were. Gus

thought that was part of why Sam hadn't come back to
him -- if he hated it, they had to be making Sam crazy.

"Come on, babe. Please." He hated begging, but he

wanted to hear that sensual little voice, wanted Sam to

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touch him. Oh, they weren't ready to do the nasty; he
just wanted to feel. He cupped Sam's face, fingers
stroking Sam's whiskers. Pay attention. Wake up. Come
to me.

Sam shook, chirruping, trying so hard.
"You can do it, babe. You can. Come on." He smiled,

kissed the tip of that nose. He could see Sammy's face in
there, see his mate. It shimmered, and Gus hoped with
all his might. Please. Yes. Now.

Sam screamed, the sound wild and fierce -- loud

enough that Gus was afraid Gray would come running --
then his mate was there. Shaking, sweating, but there.

"Oh, Jesus, babe." Gus grabbed Sam up in a hug,

holding that lean body close to his.

"Gus. Gus. Gus, I couldn't remember how."
"It's okay, babe. It's okay." He stroked Sam's back.
"It's not okay. This isn't fucking okay. My legs!"
"Shh. They're healing, Puss. Just going slow."
Sam shook his head. "They won't be right again."
What was he supposed to say to that? It was true. Oh,

Sam would no doubt have more mobility than most
folks, but they would never be Sam's legs. "I'm sorry."

Sam turned away from him, lurching off the bed

toward the bathroom.

He let Sam go for a minute. He would hear if Sam

needed him, and sometimes a guy needed a moment.

The water started running, then he heard glass shatter

right before there was a thump, probably Sam staggering
into the tub. Gus sprang up and headed into the
bathroom, just to make sure nothing important was
damaged. The mirror above the sink was gone,
shattered, and Sam was hunched in the tub, face up
toward the spray.

"That might cost us extra, babe."

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"I'll pay it." Sam wouldn't look at him. "I've got

money."

"Oh, fuck that." Gus sat next to the tub, his hand on

Sam's arm. "I just missed you."

"I'm fucked up. I don't like it."
"Of course you don't." Still, it was good to see Sam's

human face. "I like that I can do this, though." Gus
pulled Sam over, out of the spray, and kissed him.

The connection hit him like a freight train, slamming

into his body and rocking him. Oh, fuck. This was what
they needed. Their bond was so new; it wasn't fragile,
really, just stronger when they touched.

Gus wrapped his fingers around Sam's ass, keeping

the touch gentle, light, but he couldn't let the contact
lessen. He needed this so bad, wanted to feel Sam
against him, needed to taste and touch and just be. He
held Sam against him, letting one kiss melt into another
and another and another, Sam pushing happy sounds
into him. They didn't get all hot and heavy; well, Sam
was heavy, but it was a good feeling. They just sort of
wallowed in each other.

"You smell good. Not like smoke." Sam lapped water

off his jaw with a rough tongue.

"So do you." It was true, now that Sam was smelling

like him again, not like that place, or like medicine.

"If we go back to bed and touch, we don't have to

think." Smart Puss.

"This is true." He turned the water off and rose,

lifting Sam in his arms. Kitty needed a sandwich. A
sandwich and a good vet.

He chuckled a little before easing Sam down on the

bed, bending to kiss that hot mouth again. Sam's hands
wrapped around his shoulders, drew him down closer.
He was all for not thinking, so he stretched out next to
his lover, lips on Sam's chin.

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"You're warm." That soft purring was starting again.
Gus liked that sound. It was so happy, so much better

than snarling, or the pained sounds Sam made when he
chewed his legs in kitty form. Sam's fingers opened and
closed, like his Puss was rolling dough. Kneading.

"Feeling better, Puss?" Gus was. His cock was half

hard, his body thrumming with the energy between
them.

"Yes. Stay with me."
Gus swore he could feel Sam getting stronger.
"I'm right here." He didn't want to be anywhere but

where he was. This was too fine.

His hands slid over Sam's body, pushing a little

harder now, working the muscles a little deeper. He
wanted to ease the pain, move the sore muscles a little,
get the blood flowing.

Sam moaned, the sound a mixture of sore and pure

pleasure. Gus understood that. Sometimes it had to hurt
to feel better. A man had to heal.

"Don't stop." Sam arched, almost impossibly, body

rippling. "Gus."

That lean form was already more flexible, the angry

red marks fading. So fucking fine. He flipped Sam,
straddled the man's hips, hands on the bunched muscles.
He could smell Sam now -- male and strong and good.
That was so much better than the weak, medicine smell
from before. When he found a knot, Sam gasped, but he
didn't back off. This would heal. They would all heal.
He could feel it, like Sam's body was telling his fingers.
It made him want to purr, except he wasn't a kitty.

He leaned down, nosed Sam's nape. He had to sniff

there, let his tongue drag over that pale skin. Sam
shivered for him, and Gus rubbed his cheek over the
spot, sharing scent.

His.

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The more he touched, the better he felt, the more real

the fucking world seemed. It was crazy, how fast this
whole thing with Sam had happened, how easily he'd let
his mate in once he realized they were meant to be
together. He rubbed his nose along Sam's hairline,
humming.

Sam's purrs joined with his sounds, rolling between

them as they melted together. Gus held Sam close,
fingers digging into the flesh of Sam's hip. Time to get
to the really tough part. Legs. Gus kept vocalizing,
refusing to tense up, to give Sam warning or reason to
stress it. Then he worked his way down, moving over
Sam's ass, then to the tops of the long thighs.

"I don't think..."
He rumbled softly, fingers sliding over the

hamstrings. No thinking. That was dangerous. No, Gus
didn't think at all, he just started rubbing the skin,
putting all his love into his touches.

Sam groaned, and it took longer than he'd hoped, but

those legs started to relax, the heavy, battered muscles
shuddering under his hands.

"That's it, Puss. Just let me make you feel better. Let

me love on you." He knew it was working when Sam's
legs started sliding on the sheets, moving almost
normally, that sinuous grace starting to return.

He could scent it when Sam's body stopped being all

about pain and started edging into pleasure, into
wanting. His body responded eagerly, his own happiness
just bubbling right up. That wasn't the only thing up all
of a sudden. Gus moaned, suddenly too hot for his own
skin.

"Gus." Sam groaned, one hand reaching back to

touch his thigh.

"Yeah. Puss." He stroked back up to Sam's hip,

tugging them closer together.

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"I can smell you." Sam pressed closer, vibrating

against him.

"Do I still smell like home?" Sam had told him that

once, back at the beginning.

"You are home." Sam sighed, but the sound was

happy, settled.

Thank God. They could do this. They really could.

They just needed to be together.

His hands trailed out along Sam's arms, his whole

body covering his mate's. He needed this so bad, and so
did Sam. They needed to sink into each other, feel
nothing else. He bit at Sam's shoulder, teeth worrying
the skin.

"Mouthy pup." Sam's hips rocked under him, sweet

ass sliding on his cock.

"Mmm. Weaned early, maybe." Or maybe he just

liked how Sam tasted. Wild, fierce. Yummy.

Sam's chuckle bounced him around a little, and his

cock settled in the crack of Sam's ass. Oh. Oh, yeah. He
huffed, his belly pulling in with the pleasure. That felt so
good he rocked, getting more pressure.

His brain was sound asleep, his body knowing

exactly what he needed. All he had to do was move a
little more and his cock would be right there, pressing at
Sam's hole.

His Puss.
His Mate.
"Made for you." Sam's words made him nod. Weird,

but true.

"Sam." He breathed the word against Sam's ear,

asking permission as much as anything. The dark head
bobbed, Sam pressing back against him, letting him
breach the tight hole. Oh, fuck, yes. It felt like it had
been years instead of weeks. Sam also felt like coming
home.

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His teeth found Sam's nape, not digging in, not yet,

but it was close. He wanted to bite down and mark that
skin, to obliterate every other scar there was. He slid
deeper into Sam's ass, his cock aching, his balls drawing
up.

He reached down, cradled Sam's hip with his hand,

moving them together. He wanted more of that amazing
skin, more of those sounds that made him pant.

When he eased them onto their sides, one of Sam's

legs drawn up to give him room, it was easier. Easier,
and he could touch that fat cock, rub the tip, work it.
Sam was hard for him already, and that made Gus want
to howl with triumph. They were healing Sam. They
were.

They found a rhythm, slow and sure, Sam's body like

a glove around him. It was a perfect fucking fit, and Gus
started moving, pushing in and out, letting Sam set the
pace.

His hand moved on Sam, measuring the sweet cock

from base to head, thumb nudging the slit over and over.
He wanted Sam crazy, wanted his mate right there.

"Pup." Sam's ass rippled around him. "Good."
"Not a pup." He growled the words before biting

down on that hot nape, letting Sam feel his teeth.

The connection between them snapped, flooding him

like the taste of Sam's skin, Sam's blood, and Gus shook
Sam a little, getting a happy yowl in response. He
growled and grunted and moved faster, knowing it was
safe now.

He kept working Sam's cock, kept touching and

tugging, wanting Sam to feel it. He squeezed the slit
shut, then tugged all the way down, right to the base, his
hand meeting Sam's balls. Long and lean, like his mate,
that sweet cock fit in his palm, hot and heavy and
perfect.

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Just like that tight ass closed around him like they

were made for each other. God. He howled, his body
losing control a little, slamming against Sam's.

Things went wild around the edges, with the rutting

and the humping and the biting and the snarling. Gus
lost track of how many times he pulled back and pushed
into Sam's body, lost track of how hard he was pulling
and squeezing that hard cock. All he knew was want.

All he knew was Sam.
Sam's ass clenched around his cock, jerking and

milking him for a fierce heartbeat before heat spread
over his fingers.

"Fuck!" Gus cried out, his body seizing up for a

moment before he shot, his hips smacking Sam's ass.

He wrapped around Sam, held on tight. His mate.

His. Sam would be well again if it killed them both.

It would be a hell of a way to go.

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Chapter Twenty-Eight

"Get up."
Gus poked him in the ass, hard, and Sam growled,

deep in his chest. "Sleeping."

It was cold.
"Too bad. Get up."
"I'm sleeping!" He growled, snagged Gus' thighs.
"Ow!" That hand came down on his ass in more than

a poke, leaving a sting.

"I was sleeping!" Sam rolled over, trying to hide in

the covers.

"You were. Now you're getting up and walking." Gus

looked so mulish, jaw set.

He was not. It was cold, and he was sore and tired.
Gus poked his belly. "Up, damn it!"
He sat up, scooted to the other side of the bed. "Stop

it!"

"Why. I'm bored. I want to go dig." Gus looked a

little pouty. Deliberately.

"So go. You have a truck. You're a smart Pup." Like

he'd ever get to go home. Ever.

"I didn't say I wanted to go home. I said I wanted to

go dig. We need to get Gray and Marina home, but the
world is our oyster."

And what was he supposed to do? Follow Gus

around, gimpy and broken? He'd be better off finding a
place and hiding.

"Goddamn it, would you get up and test your legs?

Please?" Gus' eyes glinted with a kind of desperation,
and only that had him trying to get out of bed.

"If they don't get better, I'll find a place to hole up." It

was weird enough, to be him, without adding the
Frankenstein monster lurching around.

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"Babe, I know they're better. I can see the scars have

healed a ton." Gus was standing hands on hips now.
Waiting.

He stood up, muscles screaming as he headed for the

bathroom with its shattered mirror, the amazing shower.
He heard Gus make a sound of approval, heard the man
padding after him. He wouldn't look at the scars --
wouldn't look at himself at all -- ever again. He was
ruined.

"Sam." Gus caught him, twirling him around like

they were dancing. "You are not ruined. You're mine."

His eyes went wide. "What?" Had Gus heard him?
"I said you're not ruined." Gus' chest bumped his.

"Suck it up."

He slapped Gus' ass. "Get out of my head, Pup."
"Why? Took me long enough to get there." Gus' cock

rose between them, poking Sam's belly.

"Horndog." He was trying to be in a snit, goddamn it.
"Uh-huh. You're up and moving. I can do you now."

Gus was grinning, not letting him wallow at all.

He bit Gus' shoulder, hard enough to sting. Fucker.

Beautiful bastard.

"Mmm. Again." Gus put both hands under his ass and

lifted, giving him better access.

"Strong bastard." The scent of need was irresistible,

strong, and Sam bit again, eyes closing with pleasure.

"Yours, though. You can do whatever you want with

me. Cool, huh?" Gus carried him to the shower, solid as
a rock.

Damn, Gus made him laugh. "You are." Every inch.

It was annoying and maddening and wonderful and hot.

He bit Gus again, testing the skin. It didn't break for

him, but Gus moaned, hands clenching on his butt. It felt
almost like a massage.

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Don't stop. He hummed softly, moved his lips over

and bit again, sucking softly.

"Mmm." Gus moaned out loud and squeezed again.

God, it felt amazing.

His butt clenched, and he growled happily, pulling up

a mark.

Gus pushed against him, pulling so they could really

feel each other. Sam resisted the urge to stare down
between them at his cock, amazed at how hard it had
gotten so fast.

He hadn't even wanted Gus a minute ago.
Now, though? Fuck. He turned his head, nipped Gus'

ear. "Mine."

"God, yes. All yours. Want you slick and wet and

open for me."

His whole body rippled, his balls going tight, just like

that. He wanted that, too, with a sudden, desperate need
that made him gasp.

"Now. Now." He was awake -- viciously, violently

awake.

"Yeah, babe. Now. I got you." Gus pushed into the

shower, letting him go for all of two seconds for the
water to come on.

He draped himself over Gus, biting and nibbling all

the skin he could. The water made everything easy,
made the sliding so simple. Made it easy for Gus to push
right up under his ass.

"Want." His tail wanted to lash.
"Mmmhmm. Want you, too." Gus poked at him, cock

against his hole.

"I'm yours." That thick prick spread him, stretched

his hole and let him feel every bit as the tip popped in.

"You are. You're not broken. You're fucking perfect,

you hear me?" Gus slid home deep, all the way in until
their hips met.

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He grabbed Gus' hand, put it on his twisted thigh.

Never perfect. Not even close. Gus just petted him, that
other hand holding him up, steady as a rock. "Mate.
Nothing else matters."

A purr started building inside him; he couldn't help it.

It had to come. If Gus believed it so hard, maybe he
could try. He cut off the motor-like sound with another
kiss, Gus' mouth hot and wet.

His back slid along the shower wall, the tile slick and

cool against his skin, a huge contrast from Gus' rough
heat. He had way more feeling in his legs now, a lot
more mobility.

Gus wasn't going to let him think about that, though,

not at all. Gus was focused on his ass, on filling him up.
His lover was good at that. Really good. That cock
pushed into him, scraping madly.

"Gus!" He pushed down, their hips rocking faster,

that fat cock nudging his gland.

"Babe. Please. Oh, God." Gus' teeth were bared,

cords standing out in his neck.

"Yes. Yes, more." He was more awake than he'd been

in weeks. Hungry. His legs still felt off, but they didn't
have that freakish heaviness, so he wrapped them around
Gus hard. Gus' eyes went wide, and he got a wolfish
smile, then those hands wrapped around his hips hard
enough to bruise. It felt too good, too right, and he went
with it, moving faster.

They slapped together, he banged against the tile, and

all the while they growled in unison, bodies fighting for
pleasure. Gus was so hard inside him, so deep. His hole
felt stretched to the limit, his balls pulling up tight.

"Gus!" He yowled the word, body clenching tight as

he shot hard enough that his bones rattled. All but
howling, Gus came for him, filling him deep inside.
Making him feel it.

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They slumped together, panting, the water beating

down on them. Gus nuzzled his neck, making this low
noise. It was a happy sound.

"You know... I was sleeping." He rubbed his cheek

along Gus' temple.

"You were. I get it. Kitties nap. Lazy bastard is right

next to a picture of a cat in the dictionary..."

He growled, bit Gus' neck, hard, squeezing that fat

cock at the same time.

"Uhn." Those pretty eyes crossed, and Gus started

moving again, cock hardly softening at all.

"Lazy what now?" He bit again, clinging. Yes.
"Puss." Gus' skin started slapping his, water flying

everywhere again.

"Uh-huh. Harder. Now." He could do demanding as

well as lazy. Maybe better, the way Gus started really
giving it to him, in and out, stretching his already tender
hole. Beautiful wolf.

Gus' eyes glowed, teeth bared, deep growls filling the

air and driving him wild, and he lifted his chin, offering
Gus his throat. Gus struck like a snake, biting deep,
sending shockwaves all the way to his toes. The crazy
heat of it made him scream.

Yours. Yours. Yours. Yours. The word just echoed

through him.

"Mine." Gus agreed, snapping against him one last

time, coming deep and hard inside him.

His cock responded, heat spraying from him, pulsing

between them. They both shook, but Gus held him up,
and once their breathing quieted, all they could hear was
the water pouring down on them.

"Damn." There just wasn't anything else to say.
"Uh-huh." They barely made it back to the bed, Gus

having turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

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He ended up in Gus' lap, both of them rocking,

leaning together. They touched all over, and it was just
happy-making. Gus and him. Happy. Weird.

He rested his cheek against Gus', spent some time

breathing. He didn't smell the acrid traces of cigarette
smoke he was used to from before. Maybe someone had
quit.

"What do we do next?" He nibbled Gus' ear.
"We get Marina and Gray back to your mom. Then

we go where we want."

"I don't know what that means." He'd always been

caught somewhere -- at Mom's, in the flat, in the studio.

"Well, I'll show you." Gus stared into his eyes,

serious as a heart attack. "It'll be good, Puss."

"If you say so, Pup." He held Gus' gaze. "I suppose I

can trust you."

"I think so. Just like I can trust you not to kick me on

the chin, right?"

"Well, not today. Possibly if I heal..."

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

Gus watched Sam stretch out, the sunbeam hitting his

lower legs. While they weren't healed up completely,
Sam was getting around better, and they both knew they
were just wasting time at this point. They needed to go
home. They needed to start living again, start finding
some way for Sam to stop hiding.

He knew better than to believe that he and Sam could

live with Sam's mom in New Mexico, that the pack
would take them in. They could go and drop Gray off,
get Marina settled. They could close that chapter right
off

Sam's people loved him, but the man was always

going to be a freak there and during the moon that could
be damned inconvenient.

Gus rolled his head on his neck and went to find

Marina.

The gal was sitting on the front porch of her cabin,

watching the road. Gus wondered if she'd been born in a
city, or if she'd had room to run when she was a kid.

"Hey, hon."
"Gus." She smiled. "How's Sam?"
"Hiding." He sat next to her, smiling back.
"He had to live through a lot."
"He did. We need to get moving, though." Gus

frowned. "I got a bad feeling, honey. Can you talk to
him?"

"Sure." She looked at him, suddenly so worried. "I.

When are you going?"

"We're taking you and Gray back to Sam's people as

soon as we can. Then we'll head off."

Tension left her shoulders, like air out of a balloon.

"For real?"

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"Yep. We won't leave you hanging, honey. I

promise." Poor kid. He forgot over and over how young
she was.

"I just... Gray says no one there will hunt me."
Gus wasn't so sure of that. She was young, pretty,

strong... He winked. "Not in a bad way. Don't let my
cousins get after you too hard."

"I won't. Gray won't. Do you think they're coming for

us? The cats?"

"I don't know." He kept having this itch on the back

of his neck. "I can't see why, but they might just."

"Sam offends them. He smells like a wolf, acts like a

cat. He's not in the pride structure; he doesn't bow to the
Alpha. He just paid them."

"Paid them?" That sharpened his interest. "So this is a

loss of income for them?"

"Yeah. He wouldn't give them his accounts."
Shit. They might just come after Sam after all. They

needed to get his money transferred. Pete took care of all
that for Gus so he could just be mobile.

"I'll go talk to him, get him moving." She shrugged.

"Maybe he used up all his toughness. It has to build up, I
think."

Gus nodded slowly, watching her go. He'd never

thought of it that way. Next he had to get Gray moving.
He thought Gray was having a ball, sort of a grand
adventure away from home. Gray was in the sunshine --
even as chilly as it was -- white belly to the sky, tongue
lolling.

Walking right up, Gus used his toes to scratch Gray's

belly. "We need to move, man."

Gray sighed, leaned over, gnawed his ankle idly.
"I know. There's this money thing, though." Gray was

such a good wolf. Gus wondered why he was always
human at home.

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Gray nodded, nose on his leg, the blank eyes looking

sad somehow.

"I bet you know more about it than me. All those

scars, Gray. All those years. Why would he do that?" It
still boggled his mind. Gus would have moved on.

Gray shifted, slowly, one hand on his leg now. "What

else could he do? He doesn't fit in anywhere. He isn't
Pack. He isn't like them. You used to say it all the time,
Gus. He's the queerest man on earth living a life where
he couldn't have a partner. Part of him, I think, needed
some kind of attention, someone that knew him, even if
it hurt. He's never ever spent a moon not caged."

Gus shook his head, reaching down to help Gray up.

"You need clothes, man."

"Yeah, yeah. I have some somewhere." Gray

shrugged. "I like it here."

"I know." He clapped Gray on the shoulder. "I'm

sorry that you have to leave, but we need to get Marina
to your mom."

"We will. We need to get Sam out of here before they

come for him. I would imagine they're pissed off."

"Yeah. You're the second person to mention that

today. Imagine no one saying it before." Not that he was
bitter or anything. It would have been nice to know.

"I heard the pup telling you just a minute ago. Don't

snarl."

"What? No one thought to tell me they might track us

here? I thought we had all the time in the world."

"How the hell would I know how they are? Why

would they leave their territory? Even for money? We
don't chase intruders more than out of our land!"

Gus sighed. "Yeah, yeah, okay." He rubbed the back

of his neck, watching the gulls circle.

"Why didn't Sammy tell us?"

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"I don't know." He was just lost sometimes when it

came to the kitty mind.

"If only I could drive. I'd just stay here and bask."

Gray snorted. "Maybe you should ask him. When are we
leaving?"

"As soon as we can get him moving. We can't fly.

The girl has no ID."

"The girl has nothing. Who are these assholes?"
"I don't know." Gus grinned. "Man, if the rest of the

pack was here we'd kick their asses, though, huh?"

Gray's white eyes glimmered, the fury in them

sudden, unexpected, a little terrifying, honestly. "We'd
destroy them, remind them who is top of the food
chain."

"We would." He had no doubt that Gray would

defend his family to the last bite.

"I'll pack. You get Sam. We'll go back." Gray

stretched. "I like it here. I like it a lot."

"I know, man." Gus shook his head, wondering for

about the thousandth time how he'd gotten into this.

"Blame Sam." Gray's laughter followed him off.
Dude. It was one thing to have Sam hear him. It was

another to have Sam's family do it. Gus patted his
pocket for a pack of smokes, remembering as he did that
he'd forgotten to buy the damned things.

"...stop pushing me!" Sam's roar split the air as he got

close to the cabin.

"Fuck off, man. They'll come for you. You know it. I

know it. They lost your income, lost their errand girl,
lost at least four soldiers. They'll have to come to save
face, just so another pride doesn't run them out of the
city. They want your head on a pike!"

"Maybe they should have taken it!"
The sound of the slap was as clear as a bell.

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Gus fought the urge to go to Sam's rescue. This was

exactly what the stubborn kitty needed.

"Don't you say that! You... you fuck!" The wee pup

could growl. "You lived. You did it. Don't you give up
now when he came like you said!"

Gus took a deep breath before going inside. "Sam,

she's right. We have to go, babe."

"Fine." The handprint across Sam's face was bright

red. "Get the little bitch out of here."

Marina's eyes went wide. "But you said..."
Sam stared her down. "Don't be an idiot. We're

fighting. I'm going to growl. You're going to get your
shit. We're going to see Ma. I won't desert you. You're
pack."

Gus hid a grin. "Go on. honey. Get packed. I'll handle

Mr. Kitty."

Sam's bright green eyes landed on him. "Handle me?"
God, that was hot. He approved. "You need a

handler. Maybe I need a chair and a whip."

"I will bite your face off and chew on you."
"You can chew on me all you want, babe." Gus

wandered to the bed and sat, his hand on Sam's side.

It took a minute, but Sam leaned into him. "I don't

want to go back. What am I supposed to tell them? My
kind doesn't want me either?"

"Puss, I told you we don't have to stay. We just drop

the kids off and go." He knew Sam would want to see
his mom, but there was no reason for Sam to stick
around and feel like shit.

"I know, but..." Sam was ashamed. He could smell it.
"No. You have a place now. With me. We'll be

misfits together."

"I tried to be strong." Sam near whispered the words,

then stood and staggered over to pack the handful of
clothes they'd found for his Puss.

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"You were. You were really strong. Verging on

stubborn and possibly dumb." He let Sam do it. He knew
the man needed to do shit on his own.

Sam flipped him off, the move almost idle. "I told her

you'd come for me."

"I did, right?" He'd been a little dense about why Sam

wasn't calling, but that was okay. He'd managed it and
gotten to his mate before it was too late.

"You did." Sam came to him, fingers in his hair. "I

barely remember; it's like some fucked up dream."

"More like a nightmare." He slid an arm around

Sam's waist. "I was afraid for you, Puss."

"I was, too." Sam petted him, sighed. "I'd given up."
"Well, now we need to get strong again, huh? We

need to move." They had to. That was that.

"Let's go. I'm ready."
Gus opened his mouth to say that he had a few more

things to pack when he heard Gray's furious barking.
What the fuck? This was not chasing ducks.

Sam frowned. "Gray?"
Then they heard a wild, pained scream.
Gus ran for the door. He didn't know that voice, but

that couldn't be good.

Sam was behind him, as the scream came again.

There were five cats -- huge and black, two on Gray,
three attacking a half-changed Marina.

"No!" Sam snarled, black body flying off the porch,

shifting mid-air.

"Fuck --" The word cut off when Gus changed, his

challenging howl ringing out. No. Sam was right. Just
no.

Sam was all teeth and claws, diving for the ones

attacking Marina, fangs sinking into the flank of one
huge cat. So Gus went after the bastards fighting Gray,
not that the big, blind wolf wasn't holding his own.

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In fact, Gray had one down, muzzle buried in an open

throat, blood flying.

Gus flew into the fray, taking out a back leg. It was

harder than he expected, the cat's bones seeming thicker
than a wolf's. Gus wasn't letting go, though. Not one bit.

Claws raked at his fur, the tips scoring his skin, but

not digging in enough to catch, tear. He twisted,
snapping at the cat who was trying to eat his ass.

His mate was there before him, wild and screaming,

sending the big male tumbling. God, it was beautiful.
Sam was fierce and wonderful and perfect. Almost
distracting, but Gus knew it wasn't time to stop fighting
yet.

He shook hard, feeling the bone snap in his jaws. His

pack. His mate. His.

Marina flashed by, finally fully shifted, insane little

growls coming from her throat. She caught the cat with
the broken leg by the throat and snapped until it stopped
moving.

Sam stood there, growling, and both Gray and

Marina turned toward him, teeth bared. Gus moved
between them, protecting his mate. In the heat of battle
they might mistake a cat for a cat.

Gray backed off first, then Marina, her little sounds

confused, scared.

Gus took a deep breath before surveying the

battlefield. He had to make sure there were no more
threats.

Fur and blood and bodies covered the ground,

scattered like raw meat. There was a savage sense of
satisfaction to it, a heavy duty surge of pride in his pack.

His.
Gray came to him, muzzle bloody, and bowed,

panting hard. Gus gave praise where it was due,

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nuzzling Gray's face, then neck. He sniffed, searching
for injuries, but there was nothing life-threatening.

Marina was next, her instincts clumsy, but there.

She'd been torn up, and he licked the wounds, cleaned
them, vocalizing to her, letting her know how good she
was, how proud he was of her.

When she relaxed, he turned to Sam, who yowled and

swiped at him, then wrapped strong forepaws around
him to groom him. Gus let his tongue loll, let his mate
have at him until his eyes crossed and his back leg
kicked helplessly.

Sam nuzzled his belly fur, then dragged himself up

on the porch, cleaning his dark, sleek face and heavy
paws. Gus went to help, cleaning the back legs that were
still so sore, so hurt.

Gray had one paw on Marina, the two grooming each

other quietly, letting him curl around his mate, tongue
sliding over the heavy pelt. His brave Sam. Sam thought
he wasn't strong anymore, but Gus knew better. His
mate could stick kick ass.

Sam purred for him, grooming his tail, smoothing his

fur.

He let it go on as long as he could. He wanted to stay

right there forever. They had to move, though.

It was Sam who shifted, cheek on his flank. "We

need to go. Somewhere. Not here. Maybe not home,
either, but we have to take them and go."

Gus concentrated on his human body, the smell of

blood almost making him gag when he changed. "I
know, babe."

"I'm sorry." Sam looked over at Gray, at Marina. "I

didn't mean to get everyone fucking involved."

Gray barked before going back to grooming, looking

so happy it kind of hurt to look at him.

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Gus shook his head. "I think everyone is pretty much

involved." He looked at Marina, too. "I think we might
just have our own pack."

Sam arched one dark eyebrow. "I'm not calling you

Alpha."

"Uh-huh. Pussy." He started chuckling, the relief of

winning the fight almost overwhelming.

"Fucker." Sam swatted him. "I've never liked you."
"I know. Good thing you love me." He could live

with that. He really could.

For the rest of his life.

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Chapter Thirty

They drove for hours, Gray vocalizing to Marina, his

brother flat refusing to shift out of wolf form.

Sam rolled his eyes as Marina groomed him. "You're

going to spoil him."

"I'm allowed to. He's hurt."
"He had a bite on his furry butt."
Gray farted, loudly. That was so gross. Stinky. Sam

tried hard not to roll his eyes again. "Butthead."

Gus chuckled. "More like stinky butt."
"Maybe he's rotting from the inside."
Gray snapped the air idly, the threat making him

smile. It made Gus smile, too. Marina just whapped
Gray on the muzzle. Those two were so made for each
other.

He stretched, his lower back aching, his legs tingling.

They were heading home; it was the only thing anyone
could think to do. Sam knew it was a bad idea, and he
knew Gus knew that, too, but it would be like closure or
something.

At least they'd be able to get Gus and Gray's shit,

possibly get some practical clothes for Marina. Him. His
mom was sure to have some soft sweats. He and Pete
were close in size if nothing else. Pete wasn't a hulking
monster like his brother, Gus. Gus. Yum.

He let himself look a little, admire the strong jaw, the

way those hands wrapped around the steering wheel.

Gus glanced at him sideways. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah." He was a little horny, but yeah.
"You sure?" Gus' mouth curved up on one side,

letting him know it hadn't gone unnoticed.

He growled softly. Bastard. "Positive."
"Hmm. I mean, I could help you out. We could stop

for a rest."

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"Ew." Marina grunted at them from the backseat. "No

nookie."

He arched one eyebrow. "Can we just fuck then?"
Impertinent girl.
"No!" Marina laughed a little. "At least not while I'm

in the car."

His nose wrinkled. No. No, she was like a little sister.

That was nasty.

Gus laughed. "Gray's farts are ruining the mood

anyway."

"I just want to know who fed him jalapenos." He

wasn't sure how they'd found jalapenos in New England.
They were sure mild, and they'd come out of a can.

Marina hid her face against Gray's fur. Ah, the

culprit.

"You have to stop letting him sweet talk you,

girlfriend. Gray is the devil incarnate. He sold his
eyesight for evil powers."

Gray bared his teeth, tail thumping just at the tip.

Sam did love the big goof.

"I wondered about that," Gus murmured, making

Gray growl even more.

Sam chuckled, reached back and tugged the long, soft

tail. Gray was a good one and had proved to be a heck of
a fighter.

"Anyone need to stop?" Gus rolled his head on his

neck.

"Please." That was Marina, and she sounded a little

desperate. She probably needed some air. Sam couldn't
blame her.

Hell, he'd need some too if he was back there. Not

only that, but she was a girl, right? They always had to
pee more.

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Gus pulled off at the next exit, slowing as they neared

the cluster of roadside businesses. "Fast food or gas
station?"

Gray woofed, salivating a little, and Sam cracked up.

"French fries, Gray? Still?"

"Are they his favorite?" Marina grinned. "I like them,

too. And cheeseburgers. Can we have cheeseburgers?"

"Anything you want, honey." Every day Marina

seemed a little happier, a little healthier.

"Then cheeseburgers." She bounced, which made

Gray's head loll.

They pulled into the Burger King and parked toward

the back. "I'll stay here with Gray."

"Okay, babe." Gus gave him a look that told him his

mate knew he was still hiding a little. "You want fries
and what else?"

"Carton of milk. Two." He really wanted tuna. A case

of it.

Gus' lips curled in a grin. "I'll run over to the 7-11

once we get Marina's burgers."

The temptation to lean over, lick Gus' jaw, was huge.

The man took good care of him, and he was still horny.
Maybe they should just get a room. No, two. Marina and
Gray could have two doubles.

Those pretty eyes landed on him. "Be good, Puss."
"I'm always good, Pup."
"Mmm. You are." Gus' fingers ghosted over his hip.

"I'll be back in two shakes."

"Ooh. Vanilla milkshakes." Marina hopped out of the

car, and Gray woofed, watched them go, tail waving like
a flag.

"If you like her that much, you'll have to be human

with her occasionally."

Gray grunted, rolled over for a bellyscritch, and he

reached back, scratching.

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"She's pretty. I bet she smells good to you, hmm?"
He got a little happy bark, but it was hard to tell if

that was about Marina or the belly rub. Gray was such a
dork. Sam hadn't seen him so stupid over a girl in
forever. Those big paws batted the air, Gray rumbling,
telling him all about it in wolf.

"I think she's a darling. She saved my life. So did

you, brother."

Gray barked again, and Sam was glad the parking lot

was fairly deserted. Gray drew attention.

"Be good, you big baby. You've got to lose the fuzz,

wear pants. Woo her or something."

The snort Gray gave him was more human than wolf.

At least the butthead didn't fart.

"You know, flowers, dinners out, diamonds. Uh... t-

bones and rawhides? Squeaky bones?" Teasing Gray
was the most fucking fun.

Gray was just about to bite his head when Marina

came back to the car, hands full of bags and cups. Gus
was headed across the lot to get his tuna.

Sam watched that tight ass move. Left. Right. Left.

Right.

Meow.
He really was feeling better. His lower body was

working just fine...

Now if he could just get his legs to do their things.

He glanced down at them, frowning. Yeah. They were
slow healing. They'd gone faster when he was in cat
form, but Gus liked him talking and shit.

"You okay, Sammy?"
"Yeah, just thinking."
Her hand landed on his shoulder, surprising him.

"They'll get better."

He purred in thanks, rubbed her knuckles with his

cheek. "I hope so, little sister."

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"They will. The closer you are to Gus, the faster you

heal, did you know?"

"What?" Nonsense. Right?
"It's true." She gave him a sideways look, sucking on

her straw. "You really should get it on."

"Don't. You sit back there and be pure and chaste."
"Pure and chaste?"
He growled. "I mean it."
"Well, it's not like I want to watch."
Gray chortled. If a wolf could chortle.
"Pure and chaste. I'm going to tell Ma you're a

virgin."

Gray snapped at him, making him laugh like a loon.

"What? For all you know she is, Fuzzy."

Marina's eyes met his, and he winked, nodded. Some

secrets, some shames, were just theirs to keep.

Sometimes Gray was such an innocent anyway. He

really wouldn't get it. Maybe that's what Marina needed.
A lifetime of innocence.

Sam grinned a little, sliding down in his seat to watch

Gus' front as he came back from the store. There was
nothing innocent there.

His cock jerked a bit, more a happy little hiccup than

anything, like it was giving him a cheer. It was bizarre.
He'd been a loner a long time, but just the sight of Gus
made him happy. He was turning into a sap.

Or maybe he was just hungry.
His eyes focused on the bag with the tuna.
Really hungry.
"Here you go, Puss. I got the kind in the bag so we

wouldn't have to get a can opener."

"Thank you." He couldn't help his grateful purr. So

good to him.

"Mmm. You know I love tuna breath."
"So gross." Marina sounded almost happy.

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He flipped her off, stomach growling loudly enough

that Gus reached over, stroked his belly.

"Eat, babe. I got you Slim Jims, Gray."
Gray howled happily, tail thumping hard enough that

Marina cracked up. Jesus, they were a bunch. He had a
feeling they were going to make as weird a family as his
mom and pop had ever conceived.

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Chapter Thirty-One

"Do you want some milk?"
"Coffee, Ma. Please." Sam grinned over at her. She'd

been in complete meltdown since they pulled in last
night. First over Gray, then Marina and her scars. Then
him.

He'd sent Gus to bed hours ago, talking her through

everything, trying to soothe her, which worked okay
until he had to get up and walk around. That was a little
disastrous.

"You'll need to sleep. Milk it is." She was a stubborn

woman.

"Ma. Coffee. Put milk in it, but I need coffee." He

tried not to growl, but it must not have worked, his
mother snarling softly, baring her teeth. Fuck.

"Hey, man." The back door opened, Gus' brother Pete

coming in, looking like he just woke up.

"Pete. How goes?" How's your life? I got mated,

kidnapped, beaten, rescued by a stray, and formed a
pack since we talked last.

"Better than you, looks like." Pete nodded at Sam's

mom, grabbing a cup of coffee.

"Fuck off, fuzzy."
"Watch your language, boys."
They both ducked their heads. "Yes, ma'am."
Pete smiled. "My wife says hello."
"Yeah?" He grinned, teasing. "To who?"
"Me." Pete rolled his eyes. "You're a dork. She

caught with puppies again. Cool, huh?"

"Yeah. You've been focused on trying for years."
His mom nodded. "It's a good match. She's a good

girl."

"She's the best."

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Pete beamed, and Sam had the terrible urge to say, "I

mated your brother." He settled for, "Congrats."

"Thanks! So, are you home to stay?"
Sam saw his mom's gaze sharpen, her head tilting.
"We'll have to talk to Gus." There. Let them chew on

that.

"Oh." Pete shrugged, not near as invested in the

answer as his mom.

"Gus? Why would you have to talk to him?"
Sam shrugged. "Because I will."
The man in question came out from the back room,

too-big sweats hanging low on his hips, scratching his
belly with one hand. "Did I hear Pete?"

"Dude! Man! Why didn't you come home?"
Sam couldn't stop looking at Gus' belly. He. That.

Wow... That belly was a thing of beauty, and he knew it
was honed from years of digging, not from crunches.

Gus blinked. "My place is with Sam now, bro. We're

mates."

Everybody stared. Everybody but him.
He went to touch, which, given the way Ma gasped,

was probably not wise, but it happened. He couldn't help
it. The belly was there, and Gus' easy words started a
fire in Sam's lower half.

Gus' arm wrapped around his waist, and he was

suddenly bone tired, the lack of sleep and the driving
and the needing to be touched caught up with him.

He got a slight squeeze. "Good to see you, Pete.

Ma'am. Sam needs some rest. You two can talk when he
gets up."

Pete made this noise -- sort of like when a puppy bit

into tin foil. Gus just gave the man a look and steered
Sam out of the room. None of the usual headaches that
came with dealing with family and friends there.

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He was led into his old room, the scent of Gus strong

there. Heady. He purred with all he was, whimpering as
he did.

"Shh. I got you, babe. I promise, from now on I got

you." Gus stripped his shirt off and pulled him down,
holding him close, warm and perfect.

He leaned in, mouth on Gus' skin, scenting and

tasting. "Need you."

Everything needed those hands, Gus' attention.

"Mmm. You got me." That bass rumble, the light in Gus'
eyes, told him that he could have whatever he wanted.

He brought Gus' hands to his legs, as his mouth slid

down Gus' hairy chest toward a nipple. The feel of Gus'
skin was so amazing, and the taste was all salt and wild
heat. Gus pulled his legs up, stretching him, rubbing
them together. The muscles in his legs gave a little
twinge, but it was really only a ghost of a pain.
Everywhere Gus touched him felt better, so he twisted,
purred, begged for more with all he was.

Sam got what he wanted. Gus stroked and petted,

kneading at his thighs, his hips.

He twisted, his hips bucking up, rubbing that fuzzy

belly with his hips. "Warm."

"You got a little chilled, babe." Gus rubbed his belly,

then reached under his sweats for his cock, stroking nice
and hard. Sam's eyes rolled, and his lips parted. Oh, fuck
yes. Yes. There was something about Gus' touch that
went beyond physical pleasure. This went all the way
deep, drawing up pleasure he'd never felt before. This
was his mate.

His lips wrapped around one nipple, pulling hard,

sucking fiercely, drawing Gus' flavor in.

Gus jerked against him, grunting a little, hands

coming up to rest on his shoulders. "Sam... Puss. God."

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"Need." He kept moving south, biting and sucking on

the way, the scent of Gus making his eyes cross. It was
all male, full of that tiny bit of hound smell, just a little
dog. It wasn't unpleasant. It was home. The taste was
more than home. It was everything. Well, except tuna.

He chuckled at his thoughts, the laughter shattering

as his tongue found Gus' cock.

"Fuck! S'posed to be taking care of you." Gus petted

his shoulders, his arms, fingers digging in a little.

"Mmmhmm." His lips wrapped around the tip,

tongue tracing the ridge.

Gus growled, the sound seeming to correspond with

the snapping of Gus' control. The man just let loose and
started fucking his face. That fat cock stretched his lips,
took him without any hesitation, anything tentative. It
was like Gus knew just what he was capable of and was
willing to give it to him. Everything.

He swallowed hard, pulling on each thrust in, letting

Gus feel teeth.

"Christ!" Gus bucked, gasping, body doing that full-

on ripple.

His hands stretched out over Gus' belly, dragged

down along the strong muscles. He wanted all Gus had
to give, and he wasn't above cheating to get it. Like
pinching Gus' nipples and giving that amazing cock a
little hint of teeth again.

It was perfect, when Gus arched, pushed the tip of

that heavy cock into his throat for him to purr around.

"Oh." The sound was a loud breath, a moan that made

his back arch like Gus was scratching the base of his
tail. Then Gus came for him, pouring out right into his
mouth.

Salt and heat and a delicious, perfect bitterness. His

mate. He purred happily, lapping up every drop.

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Gus let him have his fun, but those hands were on his

skin, rubbing and stroking, then yanking him up when
Gus' tremors stopped. "I think you might be the devil or
something."

"My tail is infinitely more attractive." His cock slid

on Gus' belly.

"It is. Don't think I could do you furry, though." Gus

sounded a like he was laughing. It was hard to tell.

"Don't make me bite you again. I'm busy."
"Busy getting off, huh?" Gus got a hold of his cock

and started stroking.

"Uh. Uh-huh." His eyes rolled. "More."
"Fuck, yes." Gus scraped the head of his cock with

the tip of that rough thumb. "More."

Gus made him feel whole, made things feel like they

would be right again, and that sensation was becoming
more and more necessary, every time Gus touched him.
Those hands just made everything make sense.

And that mouth... Well, Gus could go all big bad

wolf and eat him up anytime.

Like Gus heard him, that mouth landed on his neck,

teeth threatening his skin, teasing him. He arched his
head back, his chest pushing up. Gus kept stroking him
with one hand, the other coming up to his chest, fingers
pinching his nipples.

"Harder. Fuck, Gus." He was so fucking tired, so

horny, so frustrated suddenly.

"Soon. That might be a bit much in your mom's

house." Gus bit him again, teeth sinking deep.

His eyes rolled, his teeth snapping at the air. If his tail

was there, it would be lashing.

Gus shook him, head swinging side to side, the sting

pushing him over the edge. He came over Gus' fist, his
scent mixed with Gus'.

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His entire body rippled, the waves of pleasure like

the best kind of Morphine. Except he wasn't so much
sleepy as relaxed. And sated.

He nudged Gus' jaw lazily, purrs vibrating him. So

good.

So good, mate.
Much better than fighting with his mom.
Shit. This was better than anything.

***

Gus shoveled hard, sweat pouring down his back. His

mom had asked him to do this thing with her garden,
which he didn't get, as Pete was there full-time, but he
figured it was punishment. Everyone in the pack knew
about him and Sam, now, after three days at home. If it
wasn't for Marina, they'd be on the road, but she needed
time to settle.

He wasn't sure if he was in more trouble for mating

with a feline or doing it in Maine.

"When are you going?" James' voice was deep, low,

and cut right through the air.

"Huh?" He turned to face his pack alpha, who he'd

always gotten along with. "Why?"

James' eyebrow arched. "There's not room for two

alphas, Gus. Not even close, and I'm not stepping down.
My mate's having our babies."

His mouth dropped open, and before he even thought

hard about it he started laughing, his belly hurting he
cackled so hard. Him? An alpha?

James stared him down, waiting patiently while he

had his hysteria. "When are you taking your pack?"

Sobering, he stared back, unwilling to back down.

"That depends on who you're qualifying as my pack and
how far you expect me to go. We have family here."

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"Samuel. The new female. Gray. You can take your

family, if you want. This land is mine, though." The man
was serious.

A growl built in his chest. "This land has been my

family's for three generations. If Pete wants it, it's his.
This may be your pack, but this farm is ours."

The Alpha's snarl was deep. "This farm is your

family's, so long as the Alpha allows. You know Pack
Law."

Gus bristled, the hair on his neck standing up. "Don't

fucking snarl at me, James. I didn't ask for this."

"I didn't, either. I don't give a fuck. You can't stay."
Everything in him drew up, his wolf wanting out.

Wanting to fight James for the territory. His human side
was a little horrified at the idea. "How long do I have?"
He had shit to settle, people to talk to. Hell, he'd been
planning to leave anyway. Just not with a little tent city
in tow.

"The moon is in four days." James nodded to him. "I

will be your ally. It's not personal."

No. No, it wasn't. It was who they were.
He sighed, shook his head. "Okay. You have to give

me a day to talk to Mom and all."

"You have four." One huge hand was held out.
"Thanks, man." He had to fight the urge to bite that

hand, but that would have been stupid. Gus shook it
instead.

James offered him a half-smile. "Congratulations on

your mating."

"It's kinda freaky, huh?"
"It is. I always thought you'd Alpha out, though."
"No shit?" He was a loner. He'd always thought he'd

die alone. "Well, I guess that's good."

"It is." James offered him one more nod, then left,

just like the big wolf hadn't just threatened his life.

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Staring after him, Gus kind of stood there, holding

the shovel. Then he swore and dropped it, heading
inside. Time to confab with his mom.

Mom met him at the door with a cup of coffee. "What

was that about?"

"James wants me and Sam to move on." With the rest

of his pack. Lord.

"What? Why? Where?"
"He says we can't have two Alphas, mom." He waited

for her response, just to see if she found that as
hysterical as he did.

She blinked, head tilting, then she smiled, the look

incredibly proud, pleased. "Who are you taking with
you? An Alpha needs a pack."

Gus blinked back, but couldn't summon a smile.

"Sam. Gray and Marina. He said you and Pete could
stay."

"I imagine Pete and Lizzie will want to go with you.

Mona, too." She was not nearly shocked enough. Clearly
she wasn't leaving with him, either.

"Not you, huh?"
"I... Well, I have a friend. A good friend. A..." She

blushed. "A male friend."

"Oh." He pondered that. "Well, good on you, Mom."

He chuckled. "James had better let me come visit for the
wedding."

"He will. We have gatherings." She winced. "Your

mate... That'll be different."

"Yeah." He and Mom had not really talked too much

on Sam. She'd always been nice to him and all, but
mating with her gay son? Wow. Had to be a tough one.
"I'll make sure you know how to keep in touch."

"I'll come to you. I would hate for the pack to turn on

him."

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"Thanks, Mom." Impulsively, he reached out and

hugged her, needing her mom-ness for a moment.

Her arms wrapped around him, and she sighed, the

sound soft. "So proud of you. Always have been."

"I love you." It seemed important to say it.
"I know. I love you, baby boy. Don't move far."
"I'll try to stay close enough, huh?" Maybe Nevada.

He'd have to do some research, see where they'd be safe.

She nodded, then let him go. "So, what do you need

from me?"

"I have no idea. Clean underwear?" They shared a

smile at the old joke. "Maybe you could talk to Mona?"

Her gaze sharpened. "Do you want me to encourage

her to stay or go?"

Damn, his mom was a smart lady. "James didn't say

anything about her, but he wants Gray gone, and Sam,
and I imagine he'd be happy to see Lizzie go, too. She
should come with us. Mona, I mean."

Mom nodded. "She's a good mother, one hell of a

caretaker, and it's about time everyone in a pack was on
Sam's side."

He pondered that, and damned if she wasn't right.

Sam deserved a home. Someplace he could be safe after
all this time. Gus was going to give it to him.

"You let me know what you need, when you know."

She took his arm. "In fact, let's start a list."

Gus nodded, following his imminently practical mom

to the kitchen, letting her help figure this shit out.

He'd never been a pack alpha before.

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Chapter Thirty-Two

Sam sat in the living room, staring at Gus, not sure

what he was hearing.

Was Gus asking Ma and all the crazies to come, too?
He didn't want to live locked in a room alone for

every full moon. He didn't want to be the outcast. Out
cat, sure. Outcast, no. His stupid joke made him smile,
even though happy was the furthest thing from his mind.

There was no way, no way at all he could do this, live

in a wolf pack. He'd thought... Shit.

Maybe he should just go for a walk or a shuffle or

whatever.

He stood up, headed for the kitchen on his stupid

fucking legs. He heard the low murmur of voices, then
the pad of Gus' footsteps following him.

"You okay, babe?"
"Uh-huh." No.
"Don't lie, butthead." Gus grinned, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, babe. James said I had to take Marina and
Gray."

Wait. What?
"What?" He looked over, moving into Gus' arms

without even thinking.

"Alpha came today. His mate is pregnant. He told me

we'd have to go."

"We were going anyway, weren't we?" He shook his

head. "How many wolves are coming?"

There. Straightforward questions.
"Me. Your mom and Gray. Marina. Pete and Lizzie. I

think that's it." He heard the implied, 'for now'.

He turned to the fridge. "Where are you going to take

them?"

Gray's hands landed on his shoulders, turning him so

fast his head spun. "What do you mean, me?"

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"I just..." He stepped back, rumbled softly. "I'm not

spending my life locked in a basement or a room for the
moons so that the pack doesn't eat me."

"The basement..." Gus stared. "I'll lock them up

first."

"What?" Sam stared back, mouth open.
"You're the most important member of my pack,

babe. We run under the moon, or they go somewhere
else to live. You're my mate."

Oh.
"Yeah?" He stepped closer, vibrating with a mixture

of relief and disbelief.

"Yeah. If we go through the first moon, which is in

like, four days, and they can't deal? I'll find them a safe
place, and we'll live on our own." Gus stroked his cheek.
"Dork."

"I just. Shit, Gus. So many years in that fucking

room, then in the loft." He'd never gotten a moon free.
Ever.

"I know." Gus drew him even closer. "I would never

do that to you."

He took a deep breath, then another, another, that

horrible tension in his spine dissolving so quickly that
he wanted to yowl, scream with it. "Mate."

"You know it. All yours." Gus kissed him then,

chasing away the rest of his worry.

He climbed Gus' body, focus on that mouth, on

letting Gus know how that had been the right thing to
say. Gus grabbed his ass, effortlessly holding him up
while they kissed again and again. Gus took his mouth,
tongue pushing in, not giving him time to breathe. Sam
dove into it, let his hunger, his cat come closer to the
surface while he tasted Gus. A low groan was the only
warning he got before Gus spun around and plunked

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Sam's ass down on the kitchen counter, pushing up
between his legs.

He would have protested, but it was too right, too

good, and Gus was his now.

His lover. His mate. Who was opening Sam's pants

and getting his cock free.

"Gus..." It wasn't a complaint. If they were

interrupted he'd claw someone's face off.

"Yeah. Oh, Puss. Look at you." Gus did a lot more

than look. He pulled and stroked and tugged at Sam's
cock and it felt like fucking magic, that touch. His balls
drew up tight as he rocked forward, wordlessly begging
for more.

Gus gave it to him, pushing right back, giving him

friction with that amazing, callused hand. Gus had
strong hands. Digger's hands.

"Yours. Want to hunt with you. Under the moon.

Want to play..." His words trailed off, and he moaned,
his head slamming back against a cabinet.

"Uh-huh. Soon, babe. Four days. We can find a place

by then."

"Four..." He grabbed Gus' shoulders, that thumb

rubbing the tip of his cock. "There!"

"Right here?" That touch came again, then again,

Gus' thumbnail stinging him a little.

His spine jerked, his ass sliding on the counter as his

balls tightened. That was it. That was the touch he
needed. Gus did it again, then leaned to bite the still-
fresh bruise on his throat.

Spunk sprayed from him, his teeth rattling with the

force of it.

"Fuck." Gus breathed the word against his skin,

humping a little, kind of frantically.

"Yours." He took Gus' lips, tongue fucking in time

with Gus' hips.

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"Mmph." Gus almost scrambled up on top of him,

humping madly, kissing him back. Hard.

One hand found Gus' ass, fingers digging in, pulling

them tighter together. Gus took the friction he needed,
rocking and rolling, biting at his lower lip. He figured
everyone heard it when Gus came. The howl almost
deafened Sam.

He didn't mind, the scent of them together was

perfect, overwhelming, and all he knew.

Gus panted, face against his neck, hands clenched on

Sam's hips.

"Bed. Bed, together." They needed time, just to

breathe.

"Yeah." Gus lifted him and turned, brazening it out

and carrying him. The front room was deserted, though,
so everyone was giving them their privacy.

He nuzzled into Gus' throat, purring with his entire

body.

Gus curled up with him after locking the bedroom

door, humming a little. "God, you feel good."

"I do." He got them naked, got them skin-to-skin.

Sam hadn't believed Marina when she said time with
Gus healed him, but damned if it wasn't true. Every time
they touched he felt better.

They settled, forehead to forehead, nose to nose,

breathing. "We're going to go soon. Going to find
another place." It wasn't a question.

"We have to be gone before the moon. That's only a

few days, and I want to be somewhere safe. Not
permanent, maybe, but safe."

He nodded. "Somewhere I can be outside."
"Somewhere we can run." Gus smiled for him, like

the thought was so cool. They had run together once, but
never under the moon.

"Together. I could hunt." Maybe.

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"I think you could. I think you have great instincts."

Gus nuzzled his throat.

He let his chin lift, let himself purr. "Really? Is it like

dancing, do you think?"

Tilting his head, Gus shrugged. "I don't dance, babe,

but I bet it is."

"Good." He hoped so. He wanted it to be.
"It's exhilarating, for sure." Gus chuckled again,

shaking his head. "We'll have to make sure Gray doesn't
go nuts."

"Gray's an exceptional ratter." Not bad at herding

puppies, either, come to think of it.

"Well, as long as he doesn't follow his nose too far,

we'll be okay." Pulling back a tiny bit, Gus stared at
him. "Are we good?"

"We're good." He nodded. "This is where I apologize

for being a psycho, right?"

"No. You have a right. You just have to remember I

have your back."

"Always. It's a good feeling."
"Love you, babe."
"I know. Freak."
"Don't push it, Puss." Gus kissed him, curling up with

him.

He took one hand, lifted it to his mouth, bit the inside

of Gus' wrist. "Me? Push? Why would I do that, Pup?"

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Epilogue

The northern edge of Nevada had everything they

needed. Enough prey to keep them busy when the moon
was full, enough room for all of them to run, not enough
people to worry about, and no other wolves.

Gus lifted his head, scenting the wind. He could

smell each member of his pack, could tell exactly where
they were.

Mona was curled up near her house, grandmothering

and herding pups. Marina and Lizzie had cycled
together, given birth within days of each other, bringing
their tiny pack's number from seven to twenty in a week.
Gray was with his mate, the two of them running while
Pete proved that he was still more of a horndog than a
hunter.

Gus' mate, though, was a ferocious hunter, graceful,

deadly.

Sam had taken to it as well as he had to dancing,

maybe better. Sam's instincts were incredible. It had
taken his mate less than a moon to find himself, to sink
into the shadows and learn how to time the kill. Those
back legs were never going to be like new, but they were
strong again, letting Sam leap and run and do things to
his mate that made Gus want to lick the air just thinking
about it.

The scrub brush seemed suddenly still, too quiet, and

he knew Sam was close, crouching, watching.

Gus' ears went up, his nose vibrating. What? What

had Sam seen?

He sniffed, eyes going wide. Elk. His mate was

feeling ambitious tonight. He checked the direction of
the wind. Sam needed direct line of sight; Gus could
hunt by scent and sound, so he could move off and
flank.

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There was a small herd, with an older beast at the

back, trailing behind. Sam's scream set the herd moving,
the leap culled the older elk out.

The chase was on, and Gus' instincts kicked in. Sam

would go for the throat and the suffocating bite. Gus
would go for the legs.

Together they took the cow down, Sam dispatching

her quickly, jaw clamping. Such a good hunter, so sleek
and pretty. Gus barked his approval.

Sam screeched happily, then started cleaning his face,

so fastidious, so fine. They would have to eat their fill
here and then work to get something back to the others.
Sam would let him do most of that, though. He'd found
it was way more cat-like to hide the kill and come back
to it.

Which as a human was whoa, ick.
Sam did offer him the best parts, even letting him eat

before holding him down and grooming him. That was a
rough damned tongue. Gus had learned not to fight it,
though. Those paws were huge and so damned strong.

Bright green eyes glinted at him, catching all the light

of the moon, right before Sam head-butted him, playful
now.

Gus snorted, tail lifting to wag. He could have a nap,

but running under the moon was still new to Sam. Gus
wouldn't deprive him of the fun.

His muzzle was licked, then he got a glimpse of

happy tail before Sam bounced off to hide. It was his
kitty's favorite game. It was fairly easy for Sam to hide
at night. The black fur just looked like another shadow.
Thankfully, he'd know that smell anywhere.

It was home.

End

Just Like Cats & Dogs - 203


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