Sharing Paul

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Sharing Paul ISBN # 978-0-85715-538-2 ©Copyright Jade Archer 2011 Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright May 2011 Edited by Andrea Grimm Total-E-Bound Publishing This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing. Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution. The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork Published in 2011 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom.

Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

Portals

SHARING PAUL Jade Archer

Dedication For Jason—because every now and then you meet someone that makes the world feel like a better place. Thank you for being exactly who you are.

SHARING PAUL

Jade Archer

5

Prologue

“I’m scared, Paul.” “I know, Josh. It’ll be okay. Let’s just try and get some sleep.” Paul huddled into the corner of the slave pen and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs—trying to capture as much warmth as possible before it escaped his thin body and radiated out into the chilly evening. Unfortunately, while he was reasonably tall for an eleven-year-old cub, there wasn’t much meat on his bones yet. And now the suns had set, the temperature was dropping rapidly. It looked like it was going to be another cold, miserable night for them. Looking around, Paul tried to suppress a wave of longing. The rest of the cat shifters in the auction house holding pens were curling up together in various clusters and combinations of warm tangled bodies. But Paul once again found himself relegated to the fringes—alone except for the constant, comforting presence of Joshua in his mind. He lowered his head to his knees in resignation. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to it. Even before his parents had died and he was separated from his birth pride, ready to be sold to a new household, he’d never been really…accepted. He wasn’t a normal cub, and everyone seemed to sense it somehow. Damn it! He’d had such grand plans of fitting in when they reached their new Master’s holding. He’d been willing to do almost anything to finally be embraced by a pride. It didn’t look as if it was going to happen though. “Paul, do you…do you think that Painmancy Mage really bought us?” “Nah! Greig was just bein’ mean. He didn’t like us stickin’ up for Finn the other day like that. It was his way of getting back at us.” “He’s such a bully! Just ‘cause Finn can’t change yet.” “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t look like we’ll have to worry about Greig any more, though—his new Master took him home already.” “Yeah? Well, good riddance.” In the distance, the mournful howl of a wolf suddenly rang out. All the hairs on the back of Paul’s neck stood on end. The wolf pack had been quite the talk of the market place since their arrival from the Great Northern Tundra a few days ago. Rumour had it they’d

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been selling at an incredible rate. It wasn’t really all that surprising. The rare and unusual was always likely to catch a Master's eye as a prize to show off to their peers. However, it sounded like one, for whatever reason, had been left behind, unsold. He’d never seen a wolf shifter before. As far as he knew, most, if not all, of the working shifters in the Isa River Basin were feline based—tigers, lions, jaguars. He’d even met a few lynx shifters since being brought to the auction house for sale. Paul shivered. He’d never heard of a Mage ‘mixing’ slave species in a single household. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the possibility of ending up living in the same holding as a wolf. Another piercing cry broke the evening silence. Paul felt a wave of sadness. The poor thing sounded…heartbroken. An angry voice yelled something indecipherable. It was quickly followed by a yelp of pain then all was still and silent once more. The busy, bustling Isa City Auction House of the day giving way to the sombre, quiet holding pattern of the night. Joshua squirmed in his mind. “Do you think all the things they say about the painmancy camps are—” “No way! You know what grown-ups are like—they just say that stuff to make cubs behave.” “Yeah, but…you know…we only overheard it. They never actually said anything straight to us. It was like they were trying to keep it a secret or—” “Adults are sneaky, Josh.” “Yeah, I know. But—” “I got a good feeling about this. Something’s coming. We’re going to be fine.” “You saw something?” “Well…no. Not really saw. You know I don’t get those sorts of visions. Not like you do. But…I know it’s going to be okay. Something good’s coming. We just have to hang on. Now stop fussin’ and go to sleep.” Nearly a full minute passed, and Paul had almost begun to think Joshua might actually settle down to sleep…but it didn’t last. “Paul, maybe you should stop talking to me like this. The others keep looking at us funny and…I think some of the grown-ups back in the display pen were even trying to keep their cubs away from us in the end.” “Yeah?! Well…well, they can all just get stuffed! I’m not going to stop talkin’ to you, Josh. You’re my best friend!”

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Again the silence dragged on. Then a tiny voice—little more than a whisper—flowed through Paul’s mind like tendrils of sweet-smelling smoke. “You’re my best friend too, Paul.” At last, he felt Joshua settle back quietly and drift off to sleep. Paul looked around. He didn’t want to let Joshua know how worried he really was. He couldn’t help noticing they had been moved into a different cell, late in the afternoon not long after the Painmancy Mage’s visit to the display cages on the main auction room floor. The thing really troubling him, however, was the company they were keeping now. In the cell they currently occupied were several cats that had proven too aggressive towards their handlers, a number of older shifters and nearly two dozen other slaves who, for various reasons, hadn’t sold on the auction block. There were no burly labourers, no young females, and no other children. Paul felt a bit like…cannon fodder. He couldn’t help feeling that Joshua’s concern over Greig’s nasty parting comments— something about wondering how good they were at screaming—as they were led from the display pen weren’t without some merit. A commotion at the end of the long walkway that ran between the rows of pens made Paul tense and straighten where he huddled against the wall. All around them, cat shifters sat up, pressed closer together or cowered farther back from the bars as the voices drifted over the slave pens. There was a definite sense of foreboding—as if something…dangerous was coming their way. “This lot better be much higher quality than the feed-lot you sold me last time, Blucher,” a harsh, female voice said—the sharp echo of approaching boot heels on the hard stone floor punctuating the announcement. “Oh, they are, they definitely are, Mistress.” Paul spotted the obsequious little owner of the auction house—Auction-Master Blucher—bowing low over his hands as he wrung them compulsively in front of him. The short, rotund man was struggling to keep up with the longer strides of a tall, dark-haired mage in skin-tight midnight blue leather as they strode quickly down the line of cages. Paul stopped breathing when he realised it was the Painmancy Mage from earlier in the day. His heart beat a frantic tattoo as the pair stopped directly in front of the pen he was housed in.

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The mage was incredibly beautiful. With a long, lithe frame, delicate oval face and high cheekbones she could have been Trine—goddess of love, lust and longing. But her ice blue eyes held as much warmth and compassion as an ice-floe. Paul shivered. “I’m glad to hear that, Blucher. Leave someone else stuck with your cast-offs. My Dracolizards

have

fed

well

enough

recently.

I

need

something

with

a

little

more…substance.” “Of course, Mistress.” “In fact, I’ll need several taken straight to my cabin. I plan on starting work right away. No sense wasting the travel time. The rest you can place in the main hold for transport.” “Yes, Mistress. Of course. Anything for one of my best customers.” “Then I shall be expecting only the best from now on, Blucher. No more of your dregs. They don’t last nearly long enough if they’re half dead already.” “Of course, Mistress.” Auction-Master Blucher bowed again, before motioning towards the pen with a grand sweep of his arm. Oh, this wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all. Paul pressed back into the cold metal bars behind him. He heard Joshua whimper in his mind, but was too terrified himself to offer any reassurance. All around them the sound of mewling and soft sobs were echoed by the other shifters in the cell with them. “Would you like to inspect any of your new slaves before we begin moving them to your airship, Mistress?” Cold, pale blue eyes gazed over them—cruel and indifferent to the signs of fear and misery. “No, they’ll suffice. Take seven of the younger, stronger ones to my cabin immediately.” “Certainly, Mistress.” As the mage walked away without a backwards glance, Auction-Master Blucher motioned for a pair of thickset attendants to begin moving them. With stun-prods and heavybooted feet, the guards soon had them all on their feet—propelled roughly out of the cell door and heading down the long walk towards the airship docking platforms. And none of them—certainly not a lanky, eleven-year-old boy—could do anything about it.

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**** The Painmancy airship Jaggarthana—a huge galleon held aloft by three square rig sails and enough magic to power a small city state—creaked and groaned as it drifted silently on towards its pre-programmed destination. This high above the Applina Mountains, many miles from any civilised outpost, the air should have been crisp and clear. The view— breathtaking. But deep in the belly of the behemoth nothing could be further from the truth. A week of dark, dank, fettered conditions had left a depression that seeped into the bones. And a stench that threatened even the strongest of constitutions. Hawk schooled his features to reflect a calm, stoic control as he gazed over the survivors huddling together in front of him. He needed to be strong for them. If he was ever going to achieve anything for these shifters, or the ones he planned to rescue in the future, he needed their faith in him. A dozen pairs of eyes watched him with expressions ranging from suspicion to outright terror. The battle to take over the airship had been quick and efficient, but at its height it had certainly been a little noisy—which might account for some of the fear he saw reflected in the eyes of the shifters in front of him. Looking over the cat shifters they had rescued from the Painmancer’s clutches, Hawk almost wished they hadn’t bothered trying to keep it all as bloodless as possible. Certainly, if the bitch of a mage responsible for the condition of the cats in front of him was still alive he’d swiftly rectify the situation all over again, even if the thought made his stomach roll with nausea. He could still feel the swirl of her magic—thick, dark and heavy in his guts. Hawk pushed away the ugly memory of draining his enemy. “There’s no need to be afraid. We’re here to rescue you,” Hawk said, keeping his voice quiet but firm. Several of the skinny cats in bloody tattered rags looked at each other. Some huddled closer together, obviously waiting for the punch line. Or perhaps just the punch—which seemed more in line with their recent experience. “We have healers waiting to tend to your injuries, but we’d like to get you all away from here first.”

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Hawk saw the first tentative, dawning ray of hope light up some of the younger shifters’ eyes. He wished there was more he could do to ease their fears. But at least it was a start. He had a feeling promises would mean very little to this group. Thomas, one of the lion shifters who had volunteered to be part of the rescue mission, hurried into the dank cell—his face rigid, but carefully blank as he took in the state of the slaves before him. “Sir, we’ve secured the crew and given them the memory-wipe potion as you instructed, but we need to get moving.” “Incoming?” Thomas gave a brief nod as he looked over the frightened crowd. Time was up. Hawk turned back to the prisoners. “You need to make a decision, I’m afraid. We can’t wait any longer. Will you come with us?” Hawk refused to force or bully the men, women and children in front of him. There’d been enough of that already. It was a risk, but one he felt with all his heart needed to be taken. A new life for these poor abused cat shifters needed to start now. He held his breath and prayed he’d made the right decision. One of the older males stepped forward. “She took a group out when we were collected from the auction house. They haven’t been brought back since, but…” “But what, Elder?” Hawk asked, keeping his tone low and respectful. A female with a pronounced limp edged over to stand by the male’s side, her eyes wide and fearful. “We heard screams.” Hawk tensed. Fuck. Not good. “We’ll find them,” he promised. “She said something about taking them to her cabin. That she…had work to do,” a timid little raven-haired female said with a small sob. Many of the cats around them nodded. Some let tears fall unheeded. Others looked too traumatised to cry. “Go with Thomas. I’ll bring the rest to you.” Hawk didn’t offer them any more than that. They all knew what state the others were likely to be in after a Painmancy Mage had been ‘working’ with them. But what hope there was, Hawk refused to take away from them.

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And if all he could bring them were the bodies of their kin to mourn and then bury with dignity, he’d do that too. As the dazed group were ushered to the rescue portal by Thomas, Hawk hurried above deck. Conscious of the need for speed, he made his way quickly to the suite of cabins on the upper level that were built as standard accommodation for mages in transit on these sorts of vessels. They were lush, extravagant affairs, worlds away from anything the shifters below deck were ever likely to experience. And one more reason Hawk knew he had to do something. It wasn’t right that a mage should live in such splendour while her slaves were left to rot in the hold. The airship’s main deck was a welcome relief from the cramped, dingy confines of the hold, but Hawk couldn’t afford to linger and breathe in the sweet clean air, or allow time for the wind to blow some of the stench off him from his brief stay below deck. How any of the shifters were still alive and apparently relatively sane after being cooped up down there for almost a week was a miracle. He wished there could have been a way to get them all out sooner, but it hadn’t been safe to mount a rescue mission any closer to the major centres than this. As it was, they were racing against time before the skyway patrol found them. The closer Hawk got to the main cabin, the more he dreaded what he would find. The other cat shifters had said they’d heard screams, but it had been ominously quiet in this area of the ship since the initial chaos of boarding. Which was why they hadn’t bothered with a thorough search—they hadn’t expected to find anyone. Perhaps the shifters up here were just as petrified as those below. But Hawk was beginning to suspect a much more sinister reason for their silence. Approaching the mage’s cabin, the prickle of spent magic raised the hairs on Hawk’s arms. Worse still, the heavy, unmistakable stench of blood and…death hung in the air. Hawk could almost taste it. Squaring his shoulders, he pushed open the door, and clenched his jaw in barely restrained fury. The pale walls were splattered with blood…and worse. The thick scent of decay assaulted his nose and turned his stomach. A pile of corpses stacked neatly against the wall bore brutal testament to the fact they were too late to save all of the cat shifters purchased by the bitch known even by mages as the Ice Witch.

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Worst of all was the pale, bloody corpse that rested on the altar in the very centre of the room. It was too small to be anything but a child. Hawk stood silently in the doorway, letting the scene sink into him. He fought for control and stored the memories away to remind him why he was here. Why he was doing this. Taking shallow breaths through his mouth, Hawk knew he couldn’t afford to let the emotions boiling away inside free. He couldn’t let them overwhelm him. There were things to do, and not much time in which to do them. He needed to be detached and efficient. Then the boy on the altar moved. And everything changed in a heartbeat. Hawk was across the room in seconds. There was so much blood, but as he got closer it became obvious it didn’t all belong to the skinny cub. In fact, it couldn’t have—a body that size just didn’t hold that much. Several deep gouges scored the child’s belly and the thin raised welts of a whip marked his arms and legs. But the more Hawk studied the boy, the more he realised they must have interrupted the Painmancy Mage before she could really get to work on the child. Tears pricked the corners of Hawk’s eyes. As gently and quickly as possible, he gathered the cub into his arms. The urgency to get the boy away from here was tempered only by the bone-deep need to not cause the poor little thing any more pain than had already been inflicted on him. “Joshua?” the little cat asked in a hoarse whisper. Hawk wanted to cry out with relief when he heard the boy speak as he slowly regained consciousness. That had to be a good sign, surely. And he wasn’t screaming or moaning in pain—though that might end up being a bad thing. Hawk frowned. There was no way to tell how severe the cub’s injuries were, but he suddenly realised the cub should still probably be feeling pain. Unless it was already too late for this one as well. Hawk pushed the thought away. It was obvious the child had held on as long as he could. Hawk refused to let him die now. He forced himself to keep his hold as light as possible, but he really wanted to hurt someone as he looked down at the bruised and bloodied body in his arms. What sort of a monster did this to a young one? What sort of monsters turned a blind eye? There was no way he believed for one second no one knew what Katra had been up to. After all, someone had tipped him off in the first place—perhaps someone with a grain of conscience. Certainly, even as secretive as she was, someone in authority had to have known.

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Which meant there were others who had covered this up—or tried to. He was sure of it. It made him wonder who the animals really were. “Joshua?” the cub mewled again, a little stronger this time, as he started to struggle weakly in Hawk’s arms. “Hush, little one. You’re safe. Who’s Joshua?” “Friend. My own.” The words were slurred, but Hawk could clearly hear the depth of emotion in them. The love. Hawk looked around the room. Blood splattered the walls to above his head height. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the floor too closely for fear of what he might discover, but the crumpled bodies of several other cat shifters lay neatly against the wall—the life drained from them, evidence of various vicious tortures contradicting their orderly presentation. “I’m so sorry, little one.” A tight, painful knot of emotion locked in Hawk’s chest, threatening to choke him. “Joshua, we’re okay. Safe.” The relief in the little cub’s voice was devastating. Then the boy smiled up at him with blood stained teeth—his face relaxing completely as he went limp in Hawk’s arms. Oh gods! No! Hawk felt the panic rush over him like a hot wave before receding just as quickly to leave him ice cold. But when he placed his ear against the boy’s chest, he heard the steady, rhythmic thumping and breathed a huge sigh of relief. His heart ached in his chest for the little cub and his resolve set in stone. This could not be allowed to happen again. He would make a home for the boy in his arms. For all the cat shifters under his protection. One day they would be safe…and free. And he knew just the place to start working towards that end—Earth. It wasn’t perfect, but there were far fewer mages on Earth than there were here to try to hide from. “You’ll be okay. I promise, little one. I’ll keep you safe.”

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Chapter One

Sixteen years later “Please. Be reasonable, Mr Wittman. Mr Ashton is a very wealthy man. Surely we can work something out.” “No.” Paul stared down at the twinky little personal assistant, or private secretary, or whatever the fuck he called himself, and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew exactly how intimidating he looked—with his thick, muscular arms emphasising his broad shoulders and six-foot-four frame towering over the much smaller man. And honestly, he knew it wasn’t the poor guy’s fault he worked for an asshole. An asshole who had been thrown out of The Cat Club one too many times for getting messy— violently messy—for Paul to even consider letting him in again, no matter how much money the prick had. Unfortunately, at least for Twinky, Paul didn’t give a toss right now. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with this sort of crap tonight. “Please reconsider. I’m sure he’ll promise never to let something like this happen again.” “You mean like the last time he promised not to start fights in my club? Pardon me if I don’t put a lot of faith in Mr Ashton’s promises. The answer is still no.” “He’s never going to accept that,” the man continued, with more mettle than Paul had given him credit for. Paul was actually pretty impressed despite himself. “What am I supposed to tell him?” Paul didn’t let his increasing respect for the man in front of him sway his decision any more than the fact the man was cute as all hell. “You can tell him to go fuck himself for all I care. When I say someone’s banned, I mean they’re banned. No second chances. No get out of jail free card. Just fuck off and go find somewhere else to be a dickhead.” Paul steeled his heart when the cute little blond nibbled anxiously on his lower lip. Life’s a bitch, kid. Get used to it.

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“I think—” The man looked around, almost as if he was trying to work out where to go now. “Can I speak to the manager please?” Apparently Twinky really did have bigger balls than Paul realised. The little guy had squared his shoulders and raised himself right up to his full five-foot–four-odd height with a rather astonishing display of backbone as he stood up to Paul. Pity it wouldn’t do him any good. “Go ahead. Nate’s right over there by the bar.” Paul pointed out Nate—his boss and friend—who was in charge of the club, knowing full well Nate was even less likely to let the guy's boss back in. ‘Mr Ashton’ was a bully, and Nate hated bullies with a passion. Paul watched the slightly nervous looking man hurry across the club towards the bar, but quickly lost interest when Nate started shaking his head emphatically—just as Paul knew he would. Leaning back against the wall of the club, Paul cast his eyes across the now somewhat subdued club patrons milling around. A few die-hard stalwarts and the occasional lonesome loser were all that were left of the energetic Friday night party crowd this late in the evening. Or early in the morning as the case may be. And in less than an hour even they would be gone. Rolling his shoulders to try to relieve some tension, Paul barely suppressed the urge to start moving restlessly from foot to foot. Now that he wasn’t occupied with fucked up rich pricks who assumed the world existed to kiss their asses, he found his mind wandering to thoughts of Joshua. Joshua was resting at the moment, but something was very wrong. It had been for a long time now. Paul could feel Joshua’s fatigue and lethargy battering at him. It was driving him absolutely insane not being able to go and check to see if he was okay. Again. Right now. But he knew he couldn’t risk drawing attention to them by ‘dropping out’ of the real world. They’d worked too long and hard to fit in here as part of the pride. Well, as least to the extent they were ever likely to fit in anywhere. He wouldn’t go back to the bad old days when people stared at them and cubs were taught to avoid them because they acted weird sometimes. So here he stood, in a dark, smelly bar, watching the drunks and deadbeats and counting the minutes until he could kick their asses out the door. The last sixty minutes of his shift could not go fast enough.

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Glancing around, Paul noticed a few of the regulars edging away from him nervously and realised he was frowning. Again. Actually, it was pretty much a permanent feature these days. Joshua’s failing health was a constant worry—like a toothache that throbbed and demanded his attention day and night. Paul rubbed absently at one of his aching temples before running his hand back through his short, platinum blond hair in frustration. Maintaining their psychic connection had always taken a lot out of Joshua—he was the one who bore the brunt of the psychic drain it required. But he seemed perpetually exhausted at the moment, often listless and lethargic, and needed more and longer rest periods all the time. He was growing steadily weaker by the day. Damn it all to hell! He knew Joshua was in trouble. What he didn’t know was what to do about it. Worse still, he wasn’t sure how much longer the man he loved could go on like this before he just could not maintain the link between them at all. A cold shiver of dread crept down Paul’s spine and wrapped its icy fingers around his heart. If that thin thread that bound them together so intimately should ever break…well, without that he wasn’t sure either of them would survive. Distracted by his concerns, Paul jumped when Luke—another cat shifter assigned to security at the club—slapped him hard on the shoulder. “Hey, buddy!” Luke smiled broadly, obviously enjoying catching Paul off guard. “Nate asked me to come over and see if you wanted to finish up. Actually, you do kinda look like you could use an early mark. Something wrong?” “No. Nothing’s wrong,” Paul replied automatically. He wondered how long he’d been standing in the corner, staring off into space with a scowl on his face. As he looked over at Nate, registering the concern on his friend’s face and no sign of the little twink from earlier anywhere, he got the feeling it had been a while. So much for not drawing attention to himself. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind knocking off early. I haven’t been sleeping all that well lately.” That much at least was true—he was too worried about Joshua. “Yeah, well, you should try keeping up with those littermates of mine. I tell you, David and Trent get stupider by the second. Can you believe I had to go get their dumb asses out of jail last night? I swear, Mum’s going to pitch a fit when she finds out. And you know who

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she’s going to want to blame, don’t you? Just ‘cause I’m the oldest. You don’t know how lucky you are being an only child in your litter, man,” Luke grumbled. Paul had heard of a species of turtle that could breathe through its ass and wondered if Luke had somehow managed to score some of its DNA in his make-up. It was really quite amazing the way the man never seemed to run out of air once he started his longwinded bitch sessions about his brothers. Perhaps he was just naturally gifted. Either way, Paul didn’t respond to Luke’s comments. He wasn’t sure anything he had to say would be appreciated anyway. Luke didn’t know how incredibly blessed he was to have healthy, rambunctious siblings to mess up his life. Paul walked away before he could say anything he would undoubtedly regret later on. There really wasn’t any point anyway. No one would ever understand about Joshua. No one ever could. “Well, see you around,” Luke called after him—a sharp, acidic edge to his voice. No doubt the other cat shifters in the club would be talking about him before he reached the top of the stairs. Paul found he really didn’t give a shit. He had more important things to worry about. Like whether or not his soulmate was going to survive to the end of the day. And truly, there was no other way to describe what Joshua was to him. He was, quite simply, everything. Paul increased his pace, bounding up the steps to the living quarters two at a time. Once he reached the private upper level of the building, he headed straight to the room he’d been assigned when he’d agreed to run security at The Cat Club. It was a fairly basic set-up—a small lounge room, a long bench with a sink and a microwave. A connecting door led to a bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. And that was about it. Most of the cat shifters working in the club or one of the other nearby businesses the pride owned had similar accommodation arrangements. Being social creatures, they tended to spend most of their time together in the club or in one of the large communal areas. And if they wanted a meal, they ate in the kitchen downstairs. There didn’t seem much point in going overboard with the apartments. Besides, they were a damn sight better than what most of them had been used to before they’d escaped.

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Still, looking around, Paul doubted any of the other rooms were quite as Spartan as his. He had an ugly threadbare lounge, a dilapidated side table, a battered old television he hardly ever watched and a standard-issue single bed. And that was it. A few of the others, especially those who were mated or stayed in the city on a more permanent basis, had larger, more elaborate apartments. But he had noticed even the warriors and labourers who were on rotating rosters, and were often happy enough just to have a place to sleep, had made more of an effort to make the small spaces their own. Little individual touches here and there that said ‘home’. Most maintained even better places back up at the compound out of town where the main pride lived. But he had never bothered much with setting up a place at either location. All he needed to do to make it home was to close his eyes and concentrate. Paul took off his boots and stowed them neatly under the bed. He stretched out, making himself comfortable on the bare mattress that had come with the room and closed his eyes. Clearing his mind, he concentrated on slowing his breathing and heart rate using a series of meditation exercises he had learnt before he could even walk. Soon, everything around him faded away and the ‘room’ came into focus—a place he and Joshua had constructed together when they were little more than cubs. Clean, ivory coloured walls and crisp, white light filled the huge space—accents of warm, honey colour wood preventing it from looking too stark. Through the open French doors, he could see their pretty little Japanese-style courtyard garden—complete with the sweet sounds of a trickling waterfall and tiny songbirds in the cherry trees. The air was lightly scented with the slightly spicy tang of kazarina flowers—one of the few things they’d brought with them mentally from their home world. In short, it was beautiful. Peaceful. And in the middle of it all, fast asleep on a soft white divan, was the very heart of his existence. Joshua was so thin now, Paul noticed sadly. The dark circles under his eyes stood out starkly against his pale skin. His shock of white-blond hair—all ruffled and messed up with sleep—only emphasised his increasingly frail condition. Curled on his side as he was at the moment, Joshua looked incredibly young and vulnerable—even though, in a psychic sense, he was as strong as a lion. Which was just as well too, or Joshua would never have survived at all. Paul shook his head and sighed sadly at the miserable hand life had dealt Joshua. He would never understand how or why the two of them shared one perfectly normal body

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between them. They were like…some strange sort of Siamese twins—linked mentally and emotionally rather than physically. It defied all explanation. It wasn’t even as if the two of them were anything alike. Paul was an introvert. Joshua an extrovert. Paul enjoyed wide open spaces and running. Joshua was more intellectual and loved nothing more than curling up with a good book. It made for some very interesting compromises at times, but at the end of the day, while he didn’t know where Joshua had come from or why, Paul found he really didn’t care. Joshua had just…always been there—his forever friend. The truly cruel twist was that Paul—a quiet introvert—‘owned’ the body they lived in, while Joshua, who was naturally vivacious and outgoing, was pretty much confined to the ‘room’ and could only maintain short bursts of time as the one in control of their physical form. Unfortunately, Paul had to admit it was probably all for the best. Of the two of them, Joshua was the only one who could maintain their special psychic link. Gods knew Paul would never have been able to do it. It took time and effort he didn’t have while he was constantly dealing with the outside world. More importantly, it took patience—something Paul had never had a lot of—and an incredibly powerful natural psychic ability he just didn’t possess. Not like Joshua. But, while Joshua might be better suited and incredibly strong mentally, right now it looked like the effort was slowly killing him. Paul watched as Joshua stirred and slowly opened his beautiful hazel eyes. If the eyes really were windows to the soul, Joshua was an angel. But then Paul already knew that. Of course, he was incredibly biased, because he loved the man with all his heart and soul. Paul stroked the soft pale curls of Joshua’s hair back from his face. He felt his heart melt when Joshua closed his eyes again and began to purr as he nuzzled closer. “Hello, beautiful. How are you feeling?” Paul asked softly, unable to hold back the concern in his voice, even though he’d promised not to fuss and fret. “Better,” Joshua reassured, before opening his eyes once more and slowly blinking up at him. Paul couldn’t help but remain sceptical. Joshua still looked too pale and not his usual energetic self. In the past, Joshua would have pounced on him as soon as he appeared in the

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room and wrestled him to the floor. Paul wondered sadly if he would ever have that special joy again. Apparently, Joshua knew him far too well. He reached up and returned the tender caress—gently stroking Paul’s cheek. “Really, Paul. I’m fine. Everything will work out, you’ll see.” Joshua raised himself up onto one elbow and placed a sweet kiss on Paul’s lips. “Love you,” he whispered. Resting his forehead against his lover, Paul looked deep into Joshua’s lovely green flecked, golden-brown eyes. He desperately wanted to believe everything really would be okay. But it was hard to ignore the evidence to the contrary right before his eyes and his own growing sense of fear. “Love you, too,” Paul whispered back, and stole another soft kiss. It was difficult, sharing one perfectly normal body, with all its drives and urges— especially as their feelings for one another had grown to become more than simply friendship. Paul was paranoid about someone finding out about them. They would think he was crazy. That Joshua was some sort of figment of his imagination, or a split personality disorder. But Paul knew he wasn’t crazy. When he’d reached an age where he finally understood he and Joshua were ‘different’—that they existed outside the narrow confines of what was considered ‘normal’—he’d almost gone insane trying to prove to himself that Joshua was real. There were various proofs he had found over the years, but finally he’d just accepted the truth he knew in his heart—Joshua was every bit as real as he was. But how could he ever expect to convince anyone else of that truth? They would either shun him for being odd and telling wild stories, or treat him differently and make allowances for him because they thought he was mentally ill. He couldn’t stand the thought of either of those possibilities. No. All they had was each other. And honestly that was more than enough. He didn’t resent sharing a body with Joshua for one minute. His love for the man was unconventional, but completely unconditional. He would do absolutely anything for Joshua. He just wished he could do the most crucial thing and figure out how to keep the man alive. “Don’t worry so much, baby,” Joshua chided gently. “Everything will work out in the end.”

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With that, Joshua reached up and pulled Paul down to lie over the top of him like a great big blanket. It was one of their favourite ways to lie together—with Paul covering Joshua’s much smaller, slimmer body. It felt natural and safe for them both. It always had. As they lay together, breathing in one another’s scent—which was as distinct as their personalities, and one of the many reasons Paul knew Joshua was real—Paul wondered if Joshua had been visited by one of his precognitive visions again. He stroked a few wild strands of his lover’s hair away from his face. It wouldn’t be the first time Joshua had seen something in one of his dreams. Paul only hoped it had been something good this time. He really wanted to ask, but he knew better than to push. Joshua wouldn’t tell him anything until he was damned good and ready. When Joshua pulled at him—silently demanding he get closer—Paul went willingly. He adjusted himself to settle more intimately against Joshua and groaned when Joshua arched up into him in welcome—grinding their cocks together. Their soft, tender kisses gradually became more passionate, heated with longing and a hint of desperation. Overwhelmed by the desire to get as close as possible to his man, to erase the lingering fear and doubts he had, Paul thrust his tongue into the warm haven of Joshua’s mouth and writhed against him. Lips parted eagerly. Tongues tangled and stoked across one another. Moans and unashamed whimpers of need filled the beautiful room they had made together. “Please, Paul,” Joshua begged urgently when their mouths finally parted and they lay panting together. They shared hot, moist air between them as they breathed—just as they always had. Paul’s hands moved and stroked over his lover, tracing and studying every inch of the familiar body beneath him. He bent his head to nip at the delicate shell of one ear. “What do you want, baby? What do you need?” he asked, his voice husky and rough with passion. Joshua moaned in delight. “You, Paul. Al…always you… Oh!” Joshua’s words washed over Paul, leaving behind an impotent heartache. He wanted so much more for Joshua, but all Joshua ever asked for was his love. He gave it without hesitation, but wished with all his heart he could give more. Joshua deserved so much more than a half life.

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Tears pricked the corners of Paul’s eyes, but he smothered them with the desire building between them. Mentally melting away their clothes, he distracted them both by leaving them skin-toskin and cock-to-cock. If this was all he could give, he would give it everything he had. Paul insinuated himself between Joshua’s legs. He stroked his large, calloused hand down the soft, smooth skin of his lover’s chest. Pausing to tweak pale pink nipples, before dipping lower to circle the indent of Joshua’s belly button and bump against the ripe, full head of his cock as it curved up to meet his touch. It twitched as if demanding attention. He sensed quite clearly neither of them wanted to tease or delay this. All they wanted was to be joined together, now and forever—to push back the shadowy fear that one day, perhaps soon, they might be parted. Still, Paul was determined to savour the contact and connection between them for as long as possible. Taking Joshua’s cock in a firm grip, Paul stroked it firmly, intent on milking and coaxing every second of pleasure he could out of the moment. Dipping his head, he kissed at the corners of Joshua’s eyes—now closed in pleasure. “Going to take you now, baby. Going to fill you up so good. Then we’ll go together. Always together, baby.” The only reply was frantic nodding. Joshua seemed to be completely incapable of speech now. He simply spread his thighs wider and gently cradled Paul between them, wrapping his legs around Paul’s waist in blatant invitation. When Paul’s cock nudged insistently at his hole, Joshua gave a little thrust of his hips in encouragement. Paul wanted to prolong the moment. To spin it out and pleasure them both long into the night. But Joshua was making it damn hard—in every way. Finally, Paul conceded defeat and simply surrendered to the passion overwhelming them. There was no need to stretch or prepare Joshua slowly—such physical considerations were unnecessary here, and they were both too desperate to enjoy it at the moment. Pushing into his lover’s tight body, Paul relished the delicious heat gripping his straining cock. Joshua reached up and pulled Paul even closer until there wasn’t a breath of space between them. His hands traced patterns of desire with his short, sharp nails over Paul’s broad back and shoulders.

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They groaned in pleasure together, flexing and moving in perfect unison as Paul gently rocked into Joshua’s taut hole—a long practiced, deeply intimate and familiar dance of love and lust. Paul felt their climaxes approaching—too soon, but inevitable. Pulling away slightly, he tried to focus on his lover’s blissful face. “Going to, Joshua.Going to come. Look at me. Come with me. Together, Joshua. Always together.” At the pleading in his voice, golden-green eyes flared open—pure love and ecstasy shining out of their amazing depths. It was enough to send Paul hurtling over the edge, dragging Joshua into orgasm with him. Spinning out of control, he felt warm cum spurt up between them from Joshua’s pulsing cock. At the same time, his own cock emptied deep inside his lover. His hot seed, bursting out of his shaft, filled Joshua’s tight ass until it seeped out around where they were joined and dripped down his balls. “Always together,” Paul panted—a statement and a promise. He wouldn’t live without Joshua. Not ever. All they had to do now was find a miracle.

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Chapter Two

Matt stared around the rapidly darkening park and tried not to panic. He was lost again. Helplessly, horribly lost. Why on Earth hadn’t he learnt to stick to the routes he knew by now? Short-cuts never, ever worked out for him. Stupid Carl with his, ‘How come you always go that way? That’s the long way round. Why don’t you just cut across the park?’ Stupid park with no directional signs. Okay! Now he was sounding childish. He hated childish. And being childish in your own head was…well, ridiculous, really. Matt took a deep breath and turned in a full circle. But it didn’t help—either with the mounting anxiety or the disorientation. The truth was he was starting to get a little bit scared actually. It was really getting dark now, and he had absolutely no idea where he was. Well, okay, he was in the park obviously, but he couldn’t remember ever seeing this particular part of it before. It was all shadowed walkways and low overhanging branches that obscured the light from the street lamps. They had flickered to life about ten minutes earlier but did nothing to really dispel the gathering gloom. And the leaves and branches were making a scratchy, skittering kind of sound in the breeze that was really spooky now he stopped to think about it. Okay! Not helping, Matt! Why did he do this sort of thing, anyway? He knew he had no sense of direction. As in, absolutely none whatsoever. He’d once got lost getting back to his cubicle from the bathroom, for goodness’ sake! Back when he still worked as a faceless drone at Stark, Chapel and White Financial Services. No more of that, though, he reminded himself proudly, gazing around again, trying desperately to find a landmark he recognised. He was moving on to bigger and better things now. Anthony White—son of the boss and prick extraordinaire—had done him a huge favour by being such a complete and utter bastard. With the impetus generated by Anthony’s despicable behaviour, he had finally quit

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his dead-end job, finished his management course and sent employment applications out across the country. I’m going places. It won’t be long before the job offers start rolling in. The call centre…merely a temporary stop-over on my way to a great, full-time career in management somewhere. Definitely. I’m finally on my way. Now if he could just make it out of the park and back to his room he’d be set. Matt tried turning around in a full circle again in the hope of get his bearings. The half remembered quote—something about doing the same thing over and over again and for some reason expecting to get a different result—echoed in his head. He did feel like a bit of an idiot at the moment, but he really couldn’t think of an alternative. He really needed to get home. Mrs Rossini, the old lady he sub-let his tiny one room apartment from, was going to pitch a fit if he got in late again and woke her Pekinese. The little pipsqueak would start barking, which, of course, would set its mistress off and then there would be hell to pay. Matt sighed. If only his intuition wasn’t every bit as bad as his sense of direction, he might have known better than to take the poky little room above Mrs Rossini’s garage to begin with. He certainly didn’t wonder how he’d managed to find a place so easily that close to the CBD now. Obviously no one else was stupid enough to take it and its unreasonable landlord on. “Come on! Give me a break, huh. Just once?” Matt wasn’t sure what higher power he’d been talking to—his belief system was a little vague after being moved from foster home to foster home growing up—but whoever it was must have been out to lunch at the time. Either that or they were royally pissed off with him for some reason. One minute he was worrying about Pekinese and cranky old ladies as he absently nibbled on his bottom lip in confusion, the next he was facing four very tall, very menacing, high-as-a-kite guys in jackboots and studded leather. They’d just appeared out of nowhere as he’d rounded a bend in the path. In fact, he’d nearly run right into them. “Hey! Look what we found, boys. School’s out!” one of the gang members announced with a brightness that did nothing to make Matt feel any better about the situation. The gang shared an inane laugh as Matt flushed. He knew that in his pale blue buttonup shirt, conservative dark blue tie and suit trousers with his satchel slung over his shoulder

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he looked like a high school reject. It didn’t help he was on the skinny side of slim and a good half a head shorter than any of the guys crowding around him. Then again, being laughed at was probably the least of his worries right now. “Did you have a good day at school?” a pug-faced gang member asked in a mocking sing-song, adding a shove in case anyone missed his sarcasm. “What’ve you got in the bag? Did Mummy make your lunch today?” another mimicked, showing off crooked teeth and an obnoxious attitude. Matt stepped back, desperately wanting to put some distance between himself and the gang. Even with a shocking sense of direction and a deplorable lack of intuition, he knew things were going to go bad fast. Predictably, the group simply stepped with him, following his every move. “You going to share? I think he should share. Don't you, boys?” the first guy—the leader if Matt had to guess—asked, reaching out to try and snag the strap of his satchel. Later, Matt couldn’t believe he’d been stupid enough to jerk the satchel away. He watched in horror as all pretence and posturing dropped away from the guy’s face. With a low, vicious snarl the leader lashed out. Although he tried to duck out of the way to avoid being hit, Matt felt a heavy blow against his shoulder. He stumbled, foiling his plans to make a run for it, and barely managed to stop himself from tumbling to the ground. It was all the rest of the gang seemed to need. Without warning they lunged forward in mass. How do I manage to get into these situations? Matt wondered as he lurched awkwardly, struggling to keep his feet when a particularly hard shove nearly sent him flying. He knew if he went down that would probably be the end. The gang members all had thick, heavy boots on, and none of them were pulling their punches. And his satchel was long gone—having been yanked from his shoulder at some point—but none of them seemed ready or willing to back off and leave him alone. It wasn’t a good sign. A quick, unexpected jab to the ribs bent Matt over. Then a random kick from one of his attackers sent him crashing to his knees with a cry of pain. Unfortunately, his suffering only seemed to excite the gang—blow after blow began raining down on him in rapid succession. Matt knew he was in real trouble now. Curling in on himself, he tried to protect his head. He brought his arms up to wrap around his skull—tucking his face into his chest—but it wasn’t long before one of the thugs managed to kick one of his arms away. Pain radiated

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up his forearm in a blinding explosion of agony. And a second later, a blow connected sharply with Matt’s unguarded temple. His vision dimmed and everything seemed to reduce down to a crawl as the world tunnelled in on him. Matt realised the next blow would probably be the last he ever knew, but for some reason the knowledge didn’t really bother him. It felt very far away—detached and disconnected from him somehow. He felt his limbs go limp, his body too heavy to hold curled in a ball any longer. Knowing that this was quite likely the end, but strangely unmoved by the thought, Matt was surprised when, instead of his life flashing before his eyes, he saw a huge jungle cat sail over the top of him as if in slow motion and land several feet in front of him. How odd. Free of pain and panic, Matt stared at the huge predator. It was absolutely magnificent. The cat’s spotted white face was pulled back in a threatening snarl, its posture stiff and rigid with tension. The stark white of the street lamps reflected of its brilliant coat. Although, it looked slightly fuzzy and funny streaks formed around it when it moved and flexed—which was kind of odd, Matt thought. Slowly, in a rather vague, disinterested sort of way, Matt realised he could hear screams of terror and confusion around him. It probably meant he wasn’t seeing things. Strangely enough, he still wasn’t frightened. Just…intensely curious. Perhaps it was the kick to the head screwing with his survival instincts. But he had always found the big cat families incredibly fascinating. As a child he could remember wanting one for his very own. He’d daydreamed about cuddling up to one at night, or riding one to school each day—the ‘big kids’ were sure to leave him alone and quit picking on him if he had a pet tiger or lion in tow. If only he could stop the blood dripping into his eyes. He would really love to take a closer look at this one. What he could make out through the blurry red haze was exquisite. Stunning green eyes flashed with anger. Hundreds of dark rosettes covered its pure white coat—flexing and moving as the muscles bunched and shifted underneath. And its beautiful, solid tail—curved up in a J at the tip—twitched in agitation every few seconds. It looks like a white jaguar, he realised, his brain a little fuzzy and his mind beginning to drift slightly. Wow!

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A mouth full of sharp, pearly white teeth snarled at his attackers. Oh! Love. Your. Work. Big guy, Matt thought with what he presumed was a pretty goofy smile as he relaxed back on the ground and watched the star studded sky spinning lazily above him. Even if it was only a temporary reprieve, it was nice the cat had stopped the thugs from kicking him for a while. It was a really beautiful night now that he stopped to look at it. Deciding he should probably keep an eye on what was going on around him, Matt tilted his head to the side. One of the gang—the one he thought of as the leader—was clutching his arm protectively against his chest and scooting away crab fashion on his tattered black jeans. It looked like the jaguar had got in a few good slashes or bites while Matt wasn’t looking. But all it was doing now was standing in front of Matt, eyeing his attackers and growling low and mean in the back of its throat—almost protectively. The big cat suddenly let out a tremendous, very distinctive, roar that was more like a cross between a scream and a high pitched, scratchy growl. Instantly, the gang scattered into the night—like autumn leaves in a gale—heading off at top speed in the direction they had come from. Matt wondered idly if they would remember anything in the morning, or put it all down to a really bad trip. Hard to dismiss that messed up arm though, he reflected dreamily. He turned his attention back to the powerful cat in front of him. It was a pity he wasn’t likely to get away so easily. After issuing what sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision in the direction of the fleeing gang members, the big cat turned to fix Matt with its luminous green eyes. It padded softly over on its huge paws and cocked its head, as if wondering what to do with him now. Unable to do anything but lie still and wait for the end, Matt found himself strangely awed by the magnificent creature. Taking the time to assess himself for damage, Matt had the feeling his attackers hadn’t actually broken anything. A few bruises here and there were the worst he suspected he had sustained to his body. Unfortunately, he was fairly sure he had a concussion—he had that rather spacey, disconnected feeling he recalled from the time he was crash tackled into a goal post in high school. He certainly didn’t think he would be getting up any time soon without help, or passing out—which pretty much left him at the big cat’s mercy, whichever way he went.

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Oddly enough, looking into the strong, rounded face—even with its muzzle slightly open to reveal long, wicked fangs—Matt still couldn’t seem to muster any real fear. He could feel its hot breath fanning across his cheek. This close he could even see where each whisker sprang from its muzzle and that its glorious grass green eyes were actually flecked with a golden brown—alive with intelligence and strength. But something about the cat made him feel…safe. Matt couldn’t help himself. He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly along one pale, spotted cheek. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. For a moment, the cat stood frozen—watching him as if stunned. Matt didn’t know why it should be studying him so curiously. He was just ordinary old Matt Freeman—probably not destined to get any older, and definitely nothing special, as Anthony had so cruelly pointed out so many months ago. The cat in front of him, on the other hand, was spectacular. Just then, the cat in question bent forward and sniffed gently at Matt’s bleeding head. Even stunned and probably going into shock, Matt couldn’t help flinching in anticipation of an attack. Blood and big cats led to certain preconceived expectations after all, even when concussed. But all the jaguar did was lick gently at the wound, as if trying to kiss it better. Matt would have laughed aloud at the notion, but unfortunately it hurt like a son of a bitch. He cried out in pain as the raspy tongue scraped along raw, bruised flesh. The cat instantly pulled back. He was sure it would strike with a razor tipped paw or turn and run away this time. And funnily enough, he didn’t want it to do either—which was when he made the mistake of moving. Nausea made his stomach roll precariously as he struggled to sit up—to do what, exactly, he really wasn’t sure. Changing his mind and trying to roll over onto his side in case he was sick only made him want to throw up even more. Matt moaned miserably. It really wasn’t his night for making quality decisions. “I think I’m going to be sick.” But the sensation disappeared almost instantly—replaced by a sense of awe and wonder—as he watched the beautiful white jaguar melt away to be replaced by a stunning, broad shouldered man with platinum blond hair.

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Tall, sleek and muscular in all the right places, the cat-man was gorgeous. If Matt could ever have conjured up his dream man he would have been standing in front of him right now. As death bed visions go, this one’s a real winner, he congratulated his subconscious. Then the vision spoke. “I think we’d better get you to a doctor.” The man’s voice was deep, with a rumbling undertone. If he hadn’t been feeling so completely unwell, Matt might have thrown himself at the man’s feet and begged to be taken right then and there—but not to a doctor. Focus, Matt! Strong arms wrapped around him, gently supporting and lifting him, while his head reeled and his stomach rebelled, lurching violently as the man shifted him. Finally, he managed to sit up, but really wished he hadn’t as his head throbbed in agony. Still, he felt strangely safe and protected in the cat-man’s arms. Which was really weird because Matt never got instinctive feelings about anybody—good or bad. Ever. Not with people or cats. Or people who were cats. Feeling the park begin to spin around him again, Matt decided to stop thinking about it. Plenty of time for being confused and contemplating stupid notions of cats and men—or whatever—when he could be assured of keeping his dinner down. Several deep breaths later Matt gradually started to feel better. After a few minutes, he was even game enough to risk speaking. “I’m okay,” he ventured, but still groaned pretty pitifully—even to his own ears—when the cat-man helped him to his feet. The strong arm stayed around his waist, and he certainly didn’t protest it. He felt only a tiny twinge of guilt as he leaned in to the embrace and rested his head against the man’s warm shoulder. While probably not strictly necessary, he knew he might never get an opportunity like this again—to be so close to such a perfect male specimen. It was just a shame he was in no condition to really enjoy it. “Do you think you can walk or do you want me to carry you?” the man asked in his low, throaty rumble. Matt felt it vibrate all the way through the man’s chest and into his own. A shiver of desire worked its way over his body, even though he was completely incapable of acting on

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it. He felt a secret thrill at the idea of being picked up and carried by this big, strong warrior cat-man. But he managed to suppress the urge to accept. Just. “I’ll be fine. I’m too big for you to carry anywhere,” he mumbled. The cat-man looked down at him steadily. “I could carry you if you needed me to.” The look was so sincere, so genuine, that Matt’s heart did an odd little flip in his chest. Had anyone ever looked at him that intensely? Concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other as his rescuer slowly led him away, he didn’t think so. He was determined not to think too hard on anything right now, however. He was pretty sure when his head finally stopped spinning, and his ears stopped ringing, he was going to have a lot of questions. Not to mention a few ‘what the fuck’ moments to contend with. “I’m Matt,” he finally said. It seemed a reasonably safe place to start. He’d ignore being attacked by four thugs, rescued by a white jaguar that turned into a sex god, and finding himself led who-knewwhere for the moment. It was just better that way. “Paul,” the sex god replied. Obviously not a big talker. With the way his head was feeling at the moment, Matt was obscenely grateful for the big man’s predilection for silence. And for the warm arm he had wrapped around him as well.

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Chapter Three

The guest room above The Cat Club was warm and quiet as the pride’s doctor, Peter Manning, worked calmly to repair the damage the gang had done with their heavy boots and vicious fists. Joshua watched silently from just below the level of Paul’s consciousness. He appreciated the doctor’s skill and care, but to be honest, at the moment Paul had his complete and undivided attention. He was fascinated by the way his lover was reacting to the stranger they had rescued in the park. Ever since laying the man on the couch and stepping back to let the doc get to work, Paul had paced and fretted. Now, as Peter cleaned up the man’s head wound and put a small, neat row of stitches into the half inch long scalp wound, Paul scrutinised every move the doc made—checking over his shoulder every few seconds like a great big protective mother hen. Or cat in this case. Mentally cocking his head, Joshua turned his attention to the patient. Thank the gods Matt seemed to have got away with bruises, a small gash to his head and a mild concussion. Anything more serious and they might have had to sedate poor Paul. As it was, it looked like all the man needed was a few good days rest and he’d be fine. Still, it was obvious they had rescued him just in time. Joshua had been shocked and angry when he’d seen the fresh, vibrant bruises already appearing on the man’s chest, back and legs. One or two more well-placed kicks and it could have been a very different story for Matt. Joshua took a moment to study the man. Matt was lying back, calmly letting the doctor finish treating him. He was certainly cute—with soulful soft brown eyes, a neat mop of chocolate brown hair and a lithe body that was quite a few inches under six foot if he had to guess. Truthfully, in isolation, there was nothing particularly remarkable about any of Matt’s features. But in combination the effect was rather amazing, at least in his—and apparently Paul’s—opinion.

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Of course, the truly amazing thing about Matt was how surprisingly accepting he was of the whole cat-shifting-into-a-man thing. It took a special kind of human not to freak out when confronted with a three-hundred-pound jaguar that suddenly turned into a man. Matt was obviously one of them. The head wound might have helped a little too. Joshua considered Matt—or, more precisely, his own reaction to the man. Unlike Paul, who was taking protectiveness to a whole new level, Joshua found himself drawn to Matt in a very different way. He still felt the same simmering rage at the men who had attacked and hurt Matt as Paul did, along with an overwhelming desire to curl up and soothe both men. But underlying that was a deep desire to…talk to Matt. He really wanted to find out what made the man tick. Even more than that, he wanted to play. He wanted to roll and tickle and tussle with the man until all the silliness had been worked out of them and they could consider more serious, intense forms of play. The desire sent a throb of longing straight to his cock. Of course, they were all foolish, ridiculous notions. None of it was possible, and certainly not at the moment when Matt was having his head stitched back together. But when Matt was feeling better, Joshua knew he was definitely going to have to be very careful, or he was in for a whole new world of pain and torment. Stuck trapped inside Paul’s body, watching as Paul and the delectable Matt interacted would be torture if he didn’t nip his own little crush on the gorgeous man in the bud right now. Not that it was likely to be a problem for too much longer. Even now Joshua could feel the familiar exhaustion pulling at him. But he shrugged it off. He refused to go down without a fight. He wouldn’t shame himself or Paul by giving in—not even to self-pity. Shaking off the depressing thoughts, Joshua concentrated on the only other occupant of the room. As Paul looked around, he saw Nate standing in the corner—watching and waiting. A true top predator, their group leader did not look happy. They’d already had a stern lecture about how stupid it had been to get involved and reveal themselves to a human. And they probably hadn’t heard the end of that conversation either. But honestly, what choice did they have? Matt could easily have died if they hadn’t stepped in. Neither of them believed for a second Nate would have wanted that. He just wasn’t the type. If Paul was going over the top with his protective instincts, he had nothing on Nate when he got fired up.

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As for changing in front of Matt once the gang had been driven off, it had been completely instinctive. The need to support and comfort the man, even now, was almost overwhelming. They certainly could never had simply turned around and left—disappearing into the night without knowing Matt was safe and cared for. That really hadn’t been a choice for them either. Something about Matt drew them in—made them feel protective and…possessive. As if they were meant to protect Matt. Perhaps that was the whole reason they had found themselves in the park—at that particular spot, at that precise moment in time—in the first place. They were meant to be there to protect and help him. Sometimes their intuition worked that way. In fact, when Paul had visions, they would quite often just find themselves in the right place at the right time, later realising they had been led there by Paul’s instincts. Over the years, they had learnt to simply run with it and not ask too many questions. Still, Nate did have a point. They were all responsible for keeping the pride safe. Until they knew Matt wasn’t going to endanger them by exposing their secret, however unintentionally, he was their responsibility. His and Paul’s. They would keep him safe, and at the same time they would keep a close eye on him. It wasn’t like that was going to be any hardship. At least not for Paul. “There we go,” the doc announced brightly, applying one last piece of tape to the bandage around Matt’s head and patting him on the arm. “Not quite as good as new, but there shouldn’t be too much of a scar, and it’ll be under your hairline anyway. That bandage can come off tomorrow. It’s really just there to remind you to take it easy, and I’ll take the stitches out in a few days. In the meantime, you’ll need to be monitored closely for the next day or so to make sure there’s nothing more serious going on in that skull of yours.” “Paul has volunteered for the job, Doc,” Nate announced solemnly, breaking his ominous silence, but maintaining the scowl that had been fixed on his face since they’d first turned up with a bloody, slightly dazed human in tow. Joshua might have been concerned if Nate wasn’t an old friend, and if he didn’t know damn well their group leader would have done exactly the same thing in their shoes. Nate would get over his irritation soon enough. The doc turned to fix Paul with a stern look. “If he experiences any dizziness, nausea or vomiting, you call me.” The doc emphasised his instructions by pointing a threatening finger at Paul’s muscular chest.

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As if they would endanger Matt in any way. The hairs on the back of Joshua’s neck stood on end as he bristled at the implied slight. The knowledge that the good doc was probably remembering the last concussion he’d had to deal with did little to mollify. Joshua and Paul had taken a nasty blow to the head one night, but hadn’t bothered to tell anyone. No one had known about it until the next day when they couldn’t be roused. Of course the only reason they couldn’t be woken up was because they had both been busy repairing the damage themselves—from the inside, so to speak. Still, the doc tended to get a bit touchy about that sort of thing. “I’ll take care of him,” Joshua heard Paul reply in his pissed off, growly voice. Paul obviously didn’t like the implication that they might not look after Matt with the utmost care and attention either. But the doc simply ignored the rumbling growl and began packing up the last of his equipment and supplies with a disdainful sniff. Paul turned indignantly and began fussing with the blanket over Matt—straightening the brightly coloured afghan and tucking it in around Matt’s legs. Joshua sensed a tremendous wave of protectiveness from his lover. It was interesting how attached Paul seemed to be to Matt already. It gave Joshua ideas…and the first seeds of a plan. He didn’t blame Paul for having such a strong reaction. Not at all. Matt was incredibly cute and sexy in a completely unconscious and somewhat understated way. It defied explanation, but it was still damn hot. Maybe he wasn’t classically beautiful; or even poster boy handsome, but Matt had that whole innocent, corn fed, wholesome goodness thing going on. And he could tell Paul was falling for it. Fast. If things had been a little different, Joshua probably would have been falling for the man too. But he knew better and kept his emotions and desires firmly in hand. So to speak. The doc and Nate finally made their way to the door. “I expect you to check in with me tomorrow,” Nate said, staring straight at Paul—his eyes serious and his scowl still firmly in place. “For now, consider yourself off-duty from the club.” Nate looked pointedly at Matt. As if they didn’t know they were to stick to the man like white on rice until they were absolutely, one hundred percent convinced of his integrity. Not a problem. “See you tomorrow, Matt. I hope you’re feeling a bit better by then. We can have a little talk.”

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Paul must have taken it as a threat, because Joshua had to work damn hard to suppress the growl that wanted to come out of their throat at Nate’s comment. They were in enough trouble as it was—they didn’t need to start growling at their group leader. That was the way challenges were issued, and they had quite enough on their plate right now, thank you very much, without a fight for leadership of their hunting party. Especially when they really didn’t want it. Still, Joshua was a bit miffed with Nate, himself—which was probably why it was so hard to keep the growl in. He didn’t like the idea of Nate sniffing around Matt. Joshua suppressed a derisive snort. They’d be pissing on the furniture next—marking their territory. I bet Matt wouldn’t take that as well as the shifting into a cat thing! Once the doc and Nate had left the tiny guest room and closed the door quietly behind them, he sensed Paul relax and breathed his own mental sigh of relief. Without Nate in the room, the tension bled away and they could focus on more important matters. Paul knelt down beside the bed and surreptitiously sniffed at Matt. The man still looked pretty pale and shaken, but at least he seemed to be able to focus properly now. And his scent was losing the sharp edge of fear and panic it had been laced with when they had first came across him in the park. “Is there anything I can get for you?” Paul whispered. “No.” Matt’s reply came out a little startled, as if he wasn’t used to anyone taking care of him. Well, that was definitely something that was going to change. “Okay. Let me know if that changes, huh?” Paul hesitated beside Matt, as if he couldn’t bring himself to move away. “Thank you for coming to the rescue tonight,” Matt finally said. “I…ah…I really appreciate it. I hope you won’t get in too much trouble with your boss.” Paul shrugged. “Nate will get over it. Once you prove you’re not going to do anything to put us in danger he’ll be fine.” “What sort of danger?” Matt asked, with a frown that made him wince slightly. “It’s just best if no one knows about us. We really don’t want to end up sliced and diced on some lab table, or put in cages somewhere. We’ve had quite enough of that already. But don’t worry about it right now. We’ll talk more in the morning. Try to get some rest.” Paul went to stand, but Matt reached out and grabbed his wrist before he could get to his feet.

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“Where are you going?” There was a slight tremor of uncertainty, and perhaps a little fear edging into the other man’s voice. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe here, Matt. I promise. Get some sleep, I’ll watch over you.” It was such a tender moment between his lover and this new man that they had unexpectedly stumbled across that Joshua couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. He wasn’t sure whether it was because Paul was showing interest in another man, or because he could show an interest in Matt while Joshua knew he would never be able to do the same. Being forever trapped inside Paul’s body tended to limit his social engagements and intimate relationships. In the end, it didn’t much matter what it was. Joshua fought off the reaction regardless. No good would ever come out of such feelings of jealousy—whatever the reason. Matt seemed to visibly relax at Paul’s promise to stay. He loosened his hold on Paul’s wrist and settled back into the pillows. “I wouldn’t, you know,” Matt said vehemently as a comfortable silence settled in around the room. Paul just looked down in confusion. “Betray you…I mean…ah…any of you. Before my mum died, she always used to say you should take each person as they come, and treat them accordingly. You’ve all been nothing but kind to me this evening. What sort of thanks would it be to go telling everyone about you and putting you all in danger? Not that I think anyone would actually believe me, but you can trust me.” Matt was rambling nervously, but at the same time he looked so sincere, so earnest that Joshua wished he could lean right down and kiss the man’s beautiful soft pink lips. But Paul simply patted Matt’s hand awkwardly. “Sure thing,” he murmured, turning away as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with the attractive man lying right there in front of him. Man, Paul can be such a dolt sometimes, Joshua sighed to himself. Obviously he had some groundwork to do before he could even think about forming any sort of plan around the two men. When Matt was finally dozing fitfully on the bed, Joshua decided to start sussing out his lover. And maybe cluing him in a bit too. “He’s cute,” Joshua pointed out softly, directly into Paul’s thoughts.

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“We need to keep an eye on him,” Paul replied gruffly. His no-nonsense, practical voice suggested he didn’t want to talk about the issue. But he’d have to do better than that to put Joshua off. “Doesn’t sound like too much of a hardship. In fact, I think I’ll enjoy watching Matt,” he countered with amusement and a slight mental leer—trying to get a reaction out of his rather staid lover. Paul grunted and refused to make any further comment. But Joshua didn’t buy it for a minute. He knew Paul was smitten. He could feel the primitive need to keep the man close pouring off his lover. He felt the same way—it just wasn’t something that was wise or even possible for him. But this could be the answer to all his prayers for Paul. If he was patient and careful this could all work out wonderfully. Well, maybe not wonderfully, especially not for him in the end, but…well.

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Chapter Four

Hidden away high above the crowded ballroom, using the shadows of one of the overhanging balconies not in use for the evening, Riven searched the Blood Mages gathered below. The warm air rose from the masses, spiced with the heady, distracting scent of sex and blood. Riven hadn’t had either for a long time now, and both were freely available to those below—blending, albeit rather obscenely, with the classical music, elegant dancing and hors d’oeuvres simply because no one stopped to take any notice. It made it hard to concentrate on why he was here, risking a beating—or worse—if he was discovered spying on the mages below. All around the room, heads bent casually over the necks of the clan thralls on offer for the evening as couples waltzed past heedlessly. In the far corner, Riven could see the skirt of one servant rucked up for a fast, brutal pounding of flesh while a Blood Mage fed enthusiastically from her throat. A waiter in a white coat wisely passed them by as he presented refreshments to the revellers on either side of them. As he watched, the mage thrust harder and faster, working his way up into a crescendo of tensing muscles and straining thighs. The thrall’s neck, already hyper-extended, went rigid as she was pummelled into the marble column behind her with increasing intensity and passion. She clung fiercely, fingers clawing into the mage's shoulders, her slim legs wrapped around his waist in a desperate attempt to hold on and prevent her throat from being ripped out by her mindless lover. With one final lunge, the mage buried himself balls deep inside the thrall’s body and came. His fangs pulled free as he screamed out his orgasm, sending an arc of blood trailing in their wake. It splattered across the Mage’s coat and fell in tiny ruby droplets on the white marble floor at their feet. Blood trickled down the girl’s neck, staining the low bodice of her gown before the Mage lazily sealed the puncture wounds for her with an inattentive swipe of his tongue before turning away—apparently done with both her body and her blood.

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The girl slowly slid down the slick surface of the column, eventually slumping in an inelegant sprawl of tangled limbs and dishevelled skirts at its base. And the room continued on around them as if nothing had happened. No one would have stopped him even if he had drained the thrall dry. Or left her to bleed out on the floor. Riven forced his eyes to move away from the spent scene, concentrating on why he was here in the first place. The Blood Mage Clan at play was certainly a sight to behold. But Riven searched the crowd for one member in particular. Finally, he spotted him—leaning casually against a wall, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd as he sipped from his champagne flute and chatted quietly to a fellow Mage. Talan. Riven desperately wanted to leave the darkened balcony which he was using to spy on the fully-fledged mages below and rip the man’s throat out. His fangs ached in his gums. He had to utilise every ounce of his self-control to keep them from extending. The feral hiss building in his throat was even harder to suppress. You arrogant son of a bitch! One day you’ll pay, you bastard. If I need to search to the ends of this Earth… All I need to find is one weakness, one chink in your armour, and I’ll— Riven yelped into the hand that suddenly closed over his mouth and struggled with all his might against the bands of steel that surrounded him—dragged him back through the doorway behind them and out into the hallway. But even as he fought against his ‘attacker’, he realised who it had to be. If it was anyone other than Gregory, he’d already be bruised and bleeding by now. Or dead. “What are you doing out here?” Gregory demanded, spinning him around once they were clear of the balcony to face a furious scowl. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” “Well hello to you too, Gregory,” Riven mumbled. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the newly named Mage’s eyes. Not so long ago they would have sneaked down from their Masters’ sanctums together to find somewhere dark and quiet to enjoy the brief freedom Gathering nights offered apprentices. But those days were long gone now. “You know apprentices aren’t allowed down here on Gathering nights.” “Why aren’t you in there?” Riven countered belligerently, ignoring Gregory’s statement with a sharp thrust of his chin towards the antics in the brightly lit ballroom below.

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Gregory—half a head taller—looked down at him with solemn, forest-green eyes and, despite himself, Riven found he was trapped by the all-too-familiar gaze. “Because there’s nothing down there I want, Riven.” Riven quickly looked away again—longing and anger warring for dominance inside him. “Don’t, Gregory. Just…don’t, okay?” “Riven.” The sound of his name on Gregory’s lips—soft and pleading—still sent a shiver of awareness down his spine, but it was tempered with the pain of loss and a sense of betrayal he couldn’t seem to overcome. He didn’t look up. “Please, Riven. I hate it just as much as you do. You know that, don’t you? I’m trying—” “I know, okay. I know you’re trying in your own way to…to make it better…or something. To move on or get over it or whatever. But I can’t. I—” “That’s not fair! You make it sound like I’ve just shrugged my shoulders and moved on. I’m trying to keep us safe. To get us out of here.” “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t care about safe. I can’t think about anything but what that bastard did! I just…I want—” “We still have each other, Riven. Please don’t push me away. I—” Anger finally won out—like a hard shield rising to the surface to protect him. “I said stop it, Gregory! I can’t do this. Us. It hurts too much! And I can’t just leave it like this either. He needs to pay.” Gregory’s strong hands cradled his face and firmly but gently forced Riven to look up. “You can’t go after him. Do you hear me? You cannot go after Talan. He’s too powerful. He’s Grand-Master Vladimir’s son, for fuck’s sake. The chosen one.The clan’s golden child. You have to let it go. I won’t lose you like—” Riven jerked his head away angrily. “I can’t leave it, Gregory. I won’t. And I don’t know how you can. How can you just ignore him? How can you even stand to be in the same room with him?” “Keep your voice down!” Gregory pulled them farther down the hallway into the shadows of an alcove. “Because I have to, all right? Because if I don’t we’ll never get out of this shit hole. I’m doing the best I can. Just give me some time.” Riven stared up into his lover’s eyes. Deep forest green and every bit as precious now as they had ever been. No matter how hard he tried, Riven couldn’t think of Gregory as his

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ex-lover—even though he wouldn’t take the two steps that separated them now and throw himself into the others man’s arms. And probably never would again. Gregory was still a part of him. But a piece of their heart was gone. And Riven couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t forgive the loss. “Does Grand-Master Vladimir know you’re here?” Gregory finally asked, running a hand back through his dark red hair—frustration clear in every line of his big, muscular body. “Well, obviously not or you’d see his fangs in my ass, wouldn’t you?” Riven replied sweetly. Gregory sighed. “So why aren’t you in your Master’s sanctum?” “Grand-Master Vladimir kicked me out. He has…company.” The instant he said it, Riven saw hurt fill Gregory’s eyes and wished he could call the words back. Or actually bring himself to reach out to the man and do something to ease the pain. Before Talan had taken their third away, Grand-Master Vladimir being occupied in such a way would have resulted in long hours of loving. But now Riven’s heart was frozen— paralysed for anything but ice cold revenge. “What’s Talan doing here anyway?” Riven asked, trying to distract them both. “I thought he was on one of his little trips home to Mummy.” “Vladimir called him back. Something about needing him to smooth things over with someone-or-other. The humans are a constant problem. Talan seems to have some sort of knack with them though.” Riven snorted. “They wouldn’t be such a problem if half the coven could learn to keep their fangs to themselves.” “Yes, well, that’s what these nights are all about, aren’t they—relieving some of the…urges and learning to deal with humans.” “You’d think they’d learn after what happened to our ancestors here on Earth the last time. And the Mage Wars, how can they continue to ignore all that?” “Most of them are either too high on blood, or too wrapped up in their own lives and power plays to care.” “Yeah! Well, they’d better learn some fucking restraint if we’re finally going to put down roots and make Earth our home. I’m as sick of wandering the portals like a bunch of

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gypsies as the next Blood Mage, but humans with pitchforks and stakes are not my idea of a fun night out.” “Actually, I don’t think Vladimir plans on letting that be an issue.” Riven froze. Every instinct for survival was suddenly alive and focused on Gregory. “What do you mean? What have you heard?” Riven reached for Gregory’s arm. A familiar awareness flared to life between them. But this time Riven maintained the connection regardless. Whatever Gregory knew, he needed to know too. Information in the Blood Mage Clan was gold. It could quite literally be the difference between life and death. “I don’t know. It was…” Gregory suddenly looked extremely reluctant to continue. “Tell me.” “It was just something I overheard Talan saying. And the questions he’s asking.” “Talan’s asking questions?” Riven felt the molten hot hatred he had for the Master Mage ignite in his belly, but he contained it carefully, along with his excitement—this might be just the chance he had been searching for. His opportunity to exact retribution. “I think he’s heard…rumours. Something about Vladimir’s having a Pet hidden away somewhere. Talan was asking about it.” “Really?” “Mmm…I haven’t heard anything about a Pet. Do you know anything about it?” “No. As far as I know he drained his last Pet and never bothered replacing it. What do you think it means?” “I don’t know. But from what I could piece together, I think Talan is trying to find out if Grand-Master Vladimir has a spy in the Bayside pride.” “What? I mean…why? How?” “Well, I’m not sure why Talan would care. Shit, I don’t know why the man does anything. But if there is a spy in the pride—” “Then what?” Riven asked, curiosity and frustration with Gregory’s reticence straining his voice. “It just got me thinking, that’s all. I mean Grand-Master Vladimir isn’t likely to care that someone’s freeing cat slaves from the other Clans. He isn’t going to run off and tell the Circle Council he found out where their slaves have been hiding out since they started disappearing either. And he certainly isn’t likely to want to get all buddy-buddy with them

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and help them get their slaves back. But…there’s one reason I can think of as to why he would want a spy in the pride.” “And that would be?” “I think Grand-Master Vladimir is building an army. I just don’t think they know it yet.”

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Chapter Five

What a difference a day makes. Wasn’t that the old saying? Well, this morning Matt certainly agreed. The whole world seemed different today. Yesterday, he’d never given a second thought to the existence of shape shifters—other than as fictional characters in various books and movies he sometimes secretly enjoyed. Now he was sitting right next to one as they drove back to the little room he rented above Mrs Rossini’s garage. And damn if Paul wasn’t one of the sexiest men Matt had ever laid eyes on. The fact he spent half his life as a cat—a very big, very beautiful white jaguar type of cat—really didn’t dent Paul’s appeal at all. If fact, if Matt was really honest with himself, it kind of added to it in an amazing ‘I wonder if I could ever make him purr’ kind of way. Matt shivered just thinking about the possibilities. Of course, the day wasn’t all new adventures and wild speculation. This morning, when he’d tried to ring in sick for work he’d been informed that, because he was a casual employee at the call centre they were under no obligation to grant him any leave whatsoever. They’d let him know in no uncertain terms that if he didn’t show up for work, his employment would be terminated. The little matter of Matt not being able to stand up without hanging on to something at the time simply hadn’t figured into the conversation. They’d just informed him in an infuriatingly indifferent tone they’d have his desk cleaned out—and presumably refilled— ready for him to pick up his stuff by this afternoon. Apparently, it was an all-too-common occurrence and the way things worked at the moment. It was far too easy to find an eager, warm body to fill his shoes in the current economic climate. So, while the world may have opened up to new and exciting possibilities overnight, unfortunately, the mundane concerns—such as where next month’s rent money was coming from, and how he was going to feed himself for the fortnight—were all still high on his list of priorities. What a pity. He could think of so many other things he would much rather concentrate on. And do.

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Matt looked over at Paul. Ultimately, he really couldn’t find it in himself to regret the changes to his world. Then the car rounded a corner, jostling his ribs painfully and making him clutch his sides as he sucked in a deep breath. Okay! The beating he could have done without. And losing his job was certainly no picnic. But everything else was just fine from where he was sitting. The view was certainly breathtaking. Suddenly, Paul’s whole demeanour changed. His eyes were wary and alert as he slowed the car down and looked around cautiously. He even sniffed the air. Matt stilled, all too aware the man probably had senses far in advance of his own, and he should likely pay attention to them. “What is it?” Matt whispered, not sure why he felt the need to keep his voice down. “That wouldn’t happen to be where you’re living, would it?” Paul asked, pointing down the road ahead of them. Following Paul’s extended finger, heart speeding up in anticipation, Matt saw police cars and a number of uniformed officers milling around Mrs Rossini’s driveway. Oh, shit! What the hell’s going on? When Paul pulled off onto the side of the road, ordering him to stay put, Matt ignored him completely. Jumping out of the car and striding, somewhat unsteadily, down the footpath, Matt prayed he wouldn’t find an ambulance—or, worse still, a coroner’s van. He didn’t particularly like Mrs Rossini and her obnoxious pet, but he didn’t want to see anything bad happen to them either. Before he could make it more than three feet up the driveway, one of the uniformed officers stepped forward and placed a restraining hand up to stop him. Matt pulled back with a gasp of pain as the hand touched his chest and brushed across several bruised ribs, sending a sharp flare of agony radiating across his upper body. Paul’s threatening growl rumbled behind him. Matt hoped he wouldn’t have to try to stop Paul from doing something incredibly stupid—he was too busy trying to catch his breath at the moment. Suddenly, the front door of the house burst open and Mrs Rossini’s rotund figure came bustling out to join them. Her flat, sensible shoes slapped the concrete. Her ever-present apron was pulled tight across her belly, only emphasising her ample bosom barely contained in her severe black dress. Rushing forward, gesturing wildly, she was a woman on a mission. And unfortunately, as Matt struggled to control his breathing, he could see she was looking straight at him. At least she distracted both Paul and the policeman.

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Oddly enough, Matt felt an overwhelming sense of relief wash over him as he watched the elderly woman hurrying towards him. She certainly didn’t look happy, but at least she was alive. And he could hear the little dog—obviously locked away somewhere inside the house—in a barking frenzy. So he knew her pet was fine too. Sadly, it was very short lived gratitude to the universe. “You leave. You leave now.” The woman visibly trembled and her broken English was made even more difficult to understand by her obvious distress. But the hand she thrust out, palm up and open, was all too easy to interpret. “You give me key and you go. I no want any trouble. You go.” Tears began to well in the old woman’s eyes before one escaped to run down her wrinkled cheek. Matt had no idea what was going on. He had only moved in a few months ago after his flatmate had gone and found a job in sunny Queensland. He’d been forced to downsize when he couldn’t find anyone else to split the rent with in his last place. Heart pounding in his chest now, Matt’s mind began tumbling through questions and possibilities. Why were the police here? What was Mrs Rossini talking about? He’d never caused any trouble. The policeman loomed over him, and Matt’s head began to spin. “Are you Matthew Freeman?” the policemen asked in a serious voice that he defied anyone to hear without instantly associating with being in some sort of trouble. Absently, Matt nodded, then brought his hand up to his temple—wondering if it was possible for heads to actually explode. Everything was starting to feel like some sort of bizarre reality TV prank—too over the top to be believed. It was all so overwhelming. Suddenly, Paul’s warm, reassuring hand settled at his lower back. He’d stepped right up to stand beside him and was now looking down at him with a mixture of concern and comfort. Instantly, Matt began to feel better for the strong, confident presence by his side. Looking up at Paul, he gave what was sure to be a weak, watery smile, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. Paul smiled back at him, then turned to the police officer. “What’s going on?” Paul asked bluntly. “And you are?” the officer demanded. “Paul Wittman. I’m a friend of Matt’s.”

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The policeman eyed them both suspiciously, taking in Paul’s protective stance, and especially where his hand rested on Matt’s lower back. Paul didn’t move a muscle, he simply stared the other man down, as if daring him to make a comment. The man sniffed and turned away to address Matt again, dismissing Paul completely. Matt felt the low vibration of a growl from Paul, but didn’t have time to worry about it as the police officer started in on him again. “We have a few questions we’d like to ask you about your whereabouts last night,” he continued sternly. “He was with me,” Paul shot back. “Really. Can anyone else confirm that?” the police officer asked in a carefully modulated voice. “You sound as if you’re accusing him of something. What exactly is going on?” Paul demanded, his voice taking on a hard, angry edge. The officer visibly bristled at Paul’s tone, and Matt put a restraining hand on Paul’s chest without thinking or caring how it looked, before things got any more out of hand. “It’s okay, Paul. I ran into a little trouble in the park last night,” he explained to the police officer, whose face was carefully blank as he took in the way they touched each other. “I was attacked and Paul helped me out. Afterwards, he took me to…” Matt paused and looked up at Paul. He couldn’t remember the name of the club he’d been taken to, and he suddenly wasn’t sure they would want him talking to the police about it anyway. Would this constitute calling attention to them and putting the pride in danger? “The Cat Club,” Paul filled in without the slightest hesitation. Matt hoped that was a good sign Paul wasn’t upset with him for nearly mentioning the club to the police without thinking. “My family runs it and one of them is a doctor,” he went on to explain. “I took Matt there so Peter could have a look at him.” “I see.” The officer began officiously scribbling notes on a small pad. “Did you report the attack?” “Um…No,” Matt replied nervously. How did you tell a police officer you didn’t want to report an assault because you didn’t want them to find the attackers in case they blurted something out about being attacked by a large white jaguar that had then turned into a man? The same man who was currently standing beside him.

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“It was too dark to identify them and at the time the only thing we were worried about was getting Matt seen by a doctor,” Paul supplied smoothly, much to Matt’s relief. Matt supposed when you had to hide that you could turn into a large jungle cat every day of your life you would naturally get rather good at this sort of thing. “I see,” the officer continued without a hint of suspicion. It left him wondering if the man really cared, or if this was just another case to him. He guessed the man had to survive his job somehow. But still, a little sympathy would have been nice. “Was anything taken in the attack?” “My satchel. I didn’t even notice it was missing until this morning. It had my wallet and some papers, but…” “Well, that explains the break in,” the policeman mumbled. Matt stared up at Paul, not sure what the policeman was talking about, but definitely starting to fear the worst. “What break in?” Paul asked. “Early this morning a number of men broke into the flat above the garage and ransacked the place. Mrs Rossini called the police when she heard noises, but by the time we got here they were long gone. I’m sorry to have to say this, but the place is pretty much a write off.” He looked up, and for the first time there was a hint of genuine apology on his face. “Doesn’t look like there’s much left. The forensic team has already been through but didn’t pick up much in the way of evidence. So it looks like we’re at a dead end. Unless, of course, you can give us any more details on your attackers.” Matt shook his head dumbly, too numb to offer any coherent reply. “Can we go in and take a look?” Paul asked softly beside him. “Sure.” The man hesitated for a moment, then reached into his shirt pocket. “Look, there’s not much more we can do, but if you think of anything I’ll leave my card and a case file number. We’ll call you if anything comes up and you let us know if you think of anything else that might help.” The man scribbled down the promised number, handed over the small white card and walked away—leaving Matt completely in shock and not sure which way to turn or what to do next.

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In the background he could still hear Mrs Rossini sobbing. Matt didn’t want to cause the woman any more distress, so he dug into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Detaching them from his key ring, he held his room key out as Mrs Rossini dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. She quickly snatched them away, carefully inspected them as if making sure they were all still present and accounted for. “Now you get things out and go,” she demanded firmly. All traces of tears mysteriously gone. “Ah. Sure,” he replied, a little stunned by her sudden composure. “I’ll just… What about the rent I paid up until the end of the month?” There were only a couple of weeks left to go anyway, and he suddenly wasn’t all that hopeful he would be getting it back. “No refunds. You already stay half.” Mrs Rossini’s eyes were now sharp and shrewd. “And the bond?” he asked without much hope as a sense of impending doom descended on him. “I need to fix place up before my niece move in next week. You agreement say you leave place tidy or I keep bond.” “But it wasn’t his fault. And he’s leaving now because you’re making him go!” Paul cried in outrage. Matt had the feeling he’d been played. And by a pro by the look of it. Old Mrs Rossini was way smarter than she looked. He simply didn’t have the energy to fight her right now. “It’s okay, Paul,” he said in a resigned voice as he leaned in to the other man just a little. Paul was solid and strong, the arm wrapped around Matt comforting. “No, it’s not,” Paul said indignantly, as if readying himself to take on the old battleaxe in front of them. “I no frightened of you, young man.” Mrs Rossini sniffed disdainfully. “Where I come from we have the real men.” Matt gaped at her. It made him wonder if Mrs Rossini hadn’t just been waiting for an excuse to throw him out. He had never kept his sexuality a secret. Not that he had ever had any lovers while he was here, but when Mrs Rossini had asked after a lady friend a couple of weeks ago, he had told her honestly that he was gay, but that he didn’t have anyone in his life at the moment.

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So much for honesty being the best policy. Maybe he should have known sharing that little piece of information was a bad idea, but he’d never been good with that sort of thing. And he was hopeless at evasion. “Come on, Paul. It really isn’t worth it. I don’t want to stay here anymore anyway,” he said with all the quiet dignity he could muster—even though he was suddenly bone tired and just wanted to go and curl up somewhere to lick his wounds. For a moment Paul looked like he was going to argue the point, but then he paused. A dark, angry look crossed his features, before he simply nodded. “Fine,” he snapped, turning them around so their backs were to Mrs Rossini and heading towards the garage. They heard Mrs Rossini huff indignantly, but Matt really didn’t care what she thought right now. He reluctantly stepped away from Paul at the stairs and made his way slowly up to his apartment—moving more through sheer willpower than desire to actually get there. Pushing open the remains of the shattered door he looked around in dismay at what was left of his possessions. The place was a disaster. Clothes lay scattered across the floor amid broken crockery and bits of things he couldn’t even identify anymore. Drawers had been pulled out and thrown across the room. His TV and stereo had both been smashed beyond repair. The bed and his favourite chair were ripped to pieces and large wads of stuffing lay all around the room. He wondered how long it had been before Mrs Rossini had actually called the police. Surely she would have been frightened the thugs would come after her, but from the look of the place they’d had plenty of time to do a very good job of destroying everything he owned. Admittedly there hadn’t been much to start with, but what he had was good quality and had sentimental value. At least it used to. He’d had to work damn hard for every single thing he owned after leaving the last foster home. He had been pushed from pillar to post after his mother died when he was eight, with little more than a small suitcase of clothes. Now, what he had managed to accumulate so carefully lay in tatters all around them. Matt fought to hold in the tears that threatened to escape his control. “What do I do now?” he asked himself quietly several minutes later as he rummaged through his stuff, trying to salvage something from the ruins. It was pretty much hopeless.

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“You stay with me,” was the firm reply. Matt started, having mostly forgotten Paul was there as he concentrated on the mess around him. He stared up at Paul in disbelief from where he knelt on the floor, surrounded by debris, the remains of a broken picture frame held frozen in his hands. “The club has lots of room. Nate said he still wanted me to keep in touch with you. Staying with us will make it that much easier.” By keeping in touch, Matt knew Paul was meant to keep an eye on him and see he didn’t do anything to put the pride in danger. Still, it was a very generous offer, and he was in no position to turn it down. No home, no job, no money. Something about beggars and choosers came to mind. Matt found himself nodding mutely. “Thank you,” he finally managed to mumble, getting back to work. “I’d appreciate it until I can get back on my feet. I’ll do what I can to help you all out and pay you back as soon as possible.” “You will not,” Paul retorted. “You are my guest and my responsibility. You will stay as long as you like and you don’t need to pay us a thing.” Matt squirmed and felt a hot rush of shame flush his cheeks. He didn’t like charity. Ever since the day he had left the foster care system he’d made his own way in the world. It hadn’t always been easy, but he had managed. “Your help, on the other hand, will always be appreciated,” Paul added, obviously seeing how uncomfortable he was. “The pride works together. It’s how we survive. We help our own.” Matt knew better than to read too much into Paul’s words. He was sure the man meant well and was trying to help, but Matt wouldn’t fool himself into thinking Paul was actually suggesting he become part of the pride. Or that he ever could. He wasn’t even a shifter, for goodness sake. Too many years of being taken in by families—expected to work with them but always remaining an outsider—had taught him better than to think he could ever be accepted as an equal member, free and clear. Strangely, the idea of working for the pride—and Paul in particular—as some sort of debt-of-acceptance didn’t sit well with him. He wanted what Paul’s words offered, even while he knew he shouldn’t and was never likely to actually get it. He wanted to be a part of the pride. He wanted to work with Paul and be accepted…just as he was.

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The minutes ticked by in silence as they continued to work away at the wreckage and Matt thought over everything that had happened to him in the last twenty-four hours, and more importantly, how Paul’s offer made him feel. What would it be like to be part of a pride anyway? Finally, Paul heaved a heavy sigh. “Matt, I’m sorry, but I really don’t think there’s too much more we can save.” Looking over, he saw Paul had gathered together most of his clothes—at least those still in one piece. He also had a few odds and ends that were either too hardy to break, or had somehow managed to survive the carnage, in a small box. Added to the small pile Matt had salvaged himself, it was pathetically little. But Paul was right—there wasn’t anything else worth taking. He looked around the still chaotic room and shrugged. “Let’s get out of here then. Mrs Rossini can deal with the rest of it. My bond should just about cover carting away what’s left.” With that, he picked up his little box and turned his back on the room, never having felt happier about leaving behind such a huge mess for someone else to have to clean-up. It wasn’t in his nature to have other people pick up after him, but in this case he was going to make an exception. They made their way back to the car slowly, safely stowed what they had in the boot. All the while, Matt felt Mrs Rossini’s beady eyes on him, as she watched them from behind a curtain, clutching the little dog to her chest. But he refused to acknowledge her. He wouldn’t give her the pleasure of seeing how upset he was.

**** “So what do you do? I mean, as in what do you do for a living?” Paul asked, trying to distract the slightly dazed man beside him from his predicament as they drove back to the club. “I’m a qualified bookkeeper and just finished a management course. I’m…kind of between jobs at the moment.” Matt’s small hesitation was telling. Last night, while they were patching him up, he’d said he was going home from work when he was attacked. Now he was unemployed. Paul

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wondered if it had anything to do with the phone call Matt had made earlier this morning. Afterwards, Paul had smelt how upset the man had been, but he hadn’t thought it was anything more than the after-effects of the attack. Now he had to wonder. He heard Joshua begin to chuckle in the back of his mind. “Nate is going to absolutely adore you for getting him to agree to stay. You know he’s desperate for a club manager. And he’s a bookkeeper, too. Can you imagine the look on Nate’s face when he finds that out? Ask him, Paul. Ask him if he’d consider managing the club. He’d be perfect. Ask him.” “No!” Paul mentally whispered back. “Just be quiet, Joshua.” But apparently Joshua was in a determined, if slightly playful, mood again. Paul wanted to growl in frustration as Joshua began to chant childishly. “Ask him. Ask him. Ask him.” “Ask me what?” Matt suddenly said with a look of confusion on his face. “Damn it! Joshua! How am I going to get us out of this one without looking like a complete lunatic?” “I um…I was going to say, ah…you should…ask Nate. He’s the manager of The Cat Club. You should…ask him if he might have something for you.” There. That didn’t sound too bad. And what could it hurt, anyway? Nate would give Matt a fair chance, but he would never take just anyone on. The Cat Club was too important a venture for the pride to give the job of manager to someone simply because they were there and needed a job. But what would be the harm in giving Matt a try? The more he thought about it, the more enamoured with the idea Paul became. “Really?” Matt asked, an innocent, hopeful look on his face. Wow! He looks so cute right now. Paul hastily pushed the stray thought aside, desperately hoping Joshua hadn’t picked up on it. “Um…yeah. I’m pretty sure he’s looking for a manager to help…at least part time. Since it looks like you’re going to be staying with us for a while, maybe you could…you know…help him.” Paul watched in confusion as the man began to blush. “Oh, sure! I mean, I’m happy to help out. But I don’t really have to stay with you guys. It’s a very generous offer, but…well—I won’t say anything. Not that I think anyone would

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believe me, even if I did, you know? But I can take care of myself. I’ll just find another place—” “No!” Paul shouted. He didn’t want the other man going anywhere. He could still be in danger and…well…he just didn’t want him going anywhere else. “Oh, shut up!” he mentally murmured as Joshua began to chuckle softly in his head. He didn’t want to think about the whys and wherefores right now. “Look, I can’t make any promises, but I’m sure Nate would be willing to give you a fair go. After that, it’s up to you. But I know he’s looking for someone. You should give it some thought.” For a long time Matt remained silent, hesitantly chewing at his bottom lip as he considered his options. It made Paul want to lean over and run his tongue along the poor abused flesh—to soothe away the hurt. Instead, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and tried to be patient as he waited for Matt’s answer. “Thanks, Paul. I think I’d like to give it a go. I’d…I’d like working there, I think.” Paul nodded, not trusting his voice enough not to betray his relief. They drove on in silence. But Paul felt inexplicably light and…content. He struggled to suppress the purr that threatened to bubble up from deep in his chest as they continued back to the club. He refused to analyse it. He just accepted that he liked the idea of Matt being with them. Part of the pride. Part of his family.

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Chapter Six

“Damn it all to hell! You stupid piece of—” Matt looked over at Paul nervously as they heard a series of crashes and a loud bang from the other side of the club’s main office door. Paul smiled—a tiny hint of malicious amusement evidenced by the twinkle in his eye. “Don’t worry. Nate’s just trying to balance the books. Again.” “Does he do this often?” “Only about once a month.” Now Matt knew Paul was enjoying himself at his boss’s expense. Paul held up his hands as if in surrender. “Don’t get me wrong. He’s a fantastic leader. He’s great at the people stuff. Good at the organisation and firm but fair thing. But he’s absolutely lousy at bookwork. I mean really bad.” Matt suddenly saw exactly where his first ‘contribution’ would be made. He was good at bookwork. Actually, he was fantastic at bookwork. He wasn’t being immodest when he acknowledged that—accountancy was just something he really loved and was naturally very good at. If that made him a nerd…well, at least he was a useful nerd. Suddenly the office door flew wide and a very dishevelled Nate stepped out, nearly running Matt over. “Paul! Paul, where the hell is the—Oh! Ah… Sorry, Matt. I was…ah—” “Fighting with the paperwork again?” Paul offered innocuously. Nate’s sharp, light brown eyes narrowed. If looks really could kill, Paul would most likely be picking out a harp right now. Although, maybe not. The man certainly seemed to have a touch of wicked hidden away under that hard body of his. Maybe he’d be fitted for a pitchfork instead. Matt wanted to chuckle at the blatantly false innocent look Paul gave Nate. It was becoming clear Paul had two very different sides to his personality. Matt found he liked them both—the serious protector and the light-hearted comic. Nate stepped back, obviously deciding to take the high-road, and ushered them into the office. “How are you feeling today, Matt?” Nate asked as he closed the door and turned to address them. Before Matt could answer, Nate rushed forward, scooping up the largest

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fragments of what looked like a cup that had smashed on the floor beside the desk and tossing them in the bin. “Oh! Ah…watch the…ah, mug. It fell off the filing cabinet when I was…yeah. I was just going to go find a dustpan and brush.” “Did it fall or was it pushed?” Paul asked, deadpan. Nate flipped him off casually and pointedly turned to address Matt. “What can I do for you, Matt?” While Nate looked like a disaster—hair sticking up where he’d been running agitated fingers through it, tight lines of tension around his mouth and eyes—the office looked surprisingly neat and tidy. That was important as far as Matt was concerned. He prided himself on being orderly and efficient. He liked working with people who were interested in doing the same. He could do this. “I could have a look if you like. I mean at the…ah…books. Paul said you might—” Matt blushed, realising he hadn’t actually answered the question Nate had put to him and probably wasn’t making a whole lot of sense besides. “You do bookwork?” Nate asked, eyes narrowing to slits. “Yes, sir. I’m fully qualified. Although, if you wanted to see my certificates…” Shit! Most of them were probably in confetti sized pieces scattered around his old room somewhere. “And you’d be willing to take a look at the club books?” Nate’s eyes were full of suspicion, as if he couldn’t imagine anyone willingly subjecting themselves to such a thing. Still, there was a definite light of hope there as well. “Sure. I mean if you want me to. I understand if you’re worried—” “You’re kidding me, right?” Nate indicated the pile of receipts, dockets and various ledgers covering the desk. Matt was sure it would take time to work through, but with a little persistence, it didn’t look insurmountable. “The only thing I’m worried about right now is getting all the BAS stuff together for the accountant and making sure I don’t miss paying anyone or ordering something in the confusion. You really think you could help me out here?” “Sure. I mean, I’d be happy to have a look.” “He’s got management qualifications too,” Paul added with what sounded suspiciously like pride.

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Both Matt and Nate looked over at Paul. Apparently cat shifters could blush as well— although Paul was probably wishing they couldn’t as his cheeks turned a deep, brick red. “Really,” Nate finally said, turning back to Matt. “I think you and I definitely need to have a little talk now, Matt. In the meantime, if you’d take a look at the paperwork for me and see what you can make of it I’d be eternally grateful.” “Ah…sure. We can treat it like a trial. I can show you what I can do and you see if you like it.” “Matt needs a place to stay,” Paul suddenly announced. “I said he’d be welcome here.” “Of course he would.” Nate didn’t hesitate for a second. Matt felt his cheeks heat as he looked away in embarrassment. Damn it! He’d almost forgotten for a moment he was coming cap in hand. Some of the shine wore off his excitement at being given an opportunity to show Nate what he could do. Nate didn’t seem to notice as he looked down at his watch, and Matt was happy to let the moment pass without comment. An opportunity was still an opportunity in a cut-throat job market. He couldn’t afford to be too picky about how he got them or what baggage came along for the ride at the moment. “I’ve got to quickly duck out and meet with someone, but I should be back in about an hour or so. Paul, why don’t you and Matt go pick out one of the spare rooms upstairs. Let Matt get settled in, then have some lunch and I’ll meet you both back here at…let’s say one o’clock so we can get started on this.” “So you want me to stick with Matt for now?” Nate glanced over at Matt—chagrin evident, but his answer still clear and decisive. “Yes. I hope you understand, Matt. Just until you settle in and—” “I understand.” And he did. If he had a family like Nate and Paul to protect he’d do whatever was necessary to keep them safe too. And it wasn’t like having Paul hanging around, even if it was only out of a sense of duty, was going to be a hardship. Nate was smiling. He looked both relieved and so much happier now than he had ten minutes earlier. And he definitely looked a hell of a lot happier than he had last night. Matt breathed a small sigh of relief. Nate had been a little scary and intimidating when he’d first met him. Actually he’d looked pissed as hell that Paul had changed in front of Matt and brought him back to the club. Matt hadn’t wanted Paul to get into any trouble for

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helping him. Fortunately, that all looked like it had been forgotten in the wake of his bookwork skills—which was one less thing he had to worry about, at least. “Thank you, Nate. I really appreciate you letting me stay.” Matt held out his hand to Nate. “No, Matt, thank you,” Nate replied, shaking Matt’s hand firmly. “If you can help me sort out that mess, it’s definitely going to be me who will be thanking you.” Matt smiled as he watched Nate walk away—whistling happily as he headed for the back door of the club. For a moment, he’d almost thought the man might kiss him. But honestly, while Nate was an attractive enough man in his own right, only one cat shifter held Matt’s attention in that regard. Matt looked over at Paul and shivered. What would those hard, masculine lips taste like? What would it be like to trail his tongue down that firm chest, exploring interesting sights and wonders on his way to what lay concealed behind the zipper in Paul’s tight, black trousers? Whoa! What the hell was he thinking? He had more important things to work on than what was hidden away in Paul’s trousers and how to get at it. At that precise moment, Matt’s cock twitched, threatening to fill and embarrass him completely with a very emphatic contradiction. Apparently it didn’t think there was anything more important that finding out exactly what Paul was packing. And right now, damn it! But even if he did end up working for the cat shifters, Matt couldn’t let himself forget that, at the end of the day, he still wasn’t part of the pride. He was, and would probably always be, an outsider here. Even in the short time he’d known the cats, he could see how close they were. How much of a family they really were beneath it all. A keen observer of that sort of intimacy— usually as the little boy on the wrong side of the gates looking in—Matt could see it in the way they met each other’s eyes. In the subtle touches they gave each other that none of them were probably ever aware of. Even in the way Paul gently teased Nate, and the way Nate easily flipped him off. He knew Paul would never leave his pride. It was obvious it was too much a part of who he was. And Matt would never want him to leave either. But at the same time, he wasn’t sure he could stand being with someone like Paul and not being accepted into their family as

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well. That would truly hurt like a bitch and he couldn’t see the relationship lasting beyond a few, probably amazing but ultimately doomed, fucks. In which case, he needed to be very careful—if for no other reason than to protect himself and his silly, often sentimental heart.

**** Paul took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The way Matt was looking at him right now sent off fireworks in all the best places. He needed to get himself back under control. But something about Matt had him off-kilter in the worst way. Every damn time their eyes met. Right. Time to stop standing around like the village idiot. “So should we go find a room?” Fuck! Paul felt his cock thicken as all sorts of images flooded his mind at the unintentional innuendo. “Joshua! Cut it out!” “Hmm? Oh! I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy enjoying the lovely pictures you painted for me. Please note I had nothing to do with putting them there, by the way. Just in case you were accusing me of something.” Paul suppressed the deep-seated need to fidget. Maybe they had been all his ideas. “Oh, no! I pretty much had the same ideas myself,” Joshua chuckled. “He’d look so beautiful on your—” “Do you remember much about the layout of the club from last night, Matt?” Paul focussed hard on the man in front of him and tried to ignore his incorrigible lover. “Spoilsport.” “Ah…no…not much,” Matt replied, looking left and right as if his curiosity had been piqued. “Come on, I’ll give you a quick tour before we head upstairs.” Paul led Matt through the club, giving him a brief run-down on what was where, making sure to point out the kitchen, in case Matt needed to find it on his own for a quick snack in the future, and introduce him to the staff. Leading the way upstairs, Paul stopped in front of the first guest room he came to and opened the door, stepping back to let Matt have a look inside. “How about this one?” Matt looked around then took a few tentative steps into the room.

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“Is this the room I was in last night? When you first brought me in for the doctor to patch me up?” “Sure is. I’m surprised you remember. You were pretty out of it when you got here.” Matt took his time gazing around. He looked…rather sad. Paul couldn’t explain it any other way. Matt just stood in the middle of the room and stared at the few pieces of furniture that came with the space. “If you don’t like it, we can—” “No. No, it’s fine. I mean…good…it’s all good. Thank you.” Matt gave him a bright smile that didn’t quite look like it wanted to be there. Paul looked around, really seeing the room for the first time. “There’s not much here, I know, not like you had bef—” Matt turned away, and Paul felt like a complete idiot. He didn’t usually let his mouth run away with him like that, but Matt made him want to open up and connect—which was also the point at which he was guaranteed to get himself into trouble. “Shit! I’m sorry, I didn’t—” “It’s okay.” Matt looked so lost and tired right then, standing in a bare room with a single bag of clothes and a small box of trinkets representing all of his worldly possessions. Paul couldn’t help himself. Wrapping his arm around the smaller man, he pulled Matt in close. Instantly, Matt threw his arms around Paul’s waist and burrowed into the embrace. Paul felt Matt’s breath hitch suspiciously. A little stunned by Matt’s reaction, Paul just stood there, soaking in the other man’s warmth until he slowly relaxed into the feel of it. Matt smelt good. Better than good, actually. He was…spicy and warm. Slowly, Paul ran his hand up and down Matt’s back. “It’ll be okay. We’ll need to get you a few things to make it…you know…feel like—” Matt pulled away unexpectedly, wiping discreetly at his cheeks. “Wow! Sorry about that. I…ah…I guess it just all sort of…you know…caught up with me.” Matt looked really embarrassed and wouldn’t raise his eyes as he stepped farther away to drop his bag on the bed. Feeling Matt withdraw…hurt. “It’s okay. It’s been a really long twenty-four hours.”

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Paul felt suddenly uncomfortable being so close to Matt—wanting to pull the man back into his arms and yet knowing it was wrong. He needed to keep his distance. In his head he knew Matt was doing the right thing stepping back, but his heart had a whole different take on the situation and was aching dully as Matt continued to avoid eye contact. Shit! What am I thinking? He didn’t want to be attracted to Matt. Nothing could ever come of it. And Joshua was sick, maybe even— Paul cut the thought off sharply. Joshua was going to be fine, but his lover needed his full attention right now. And Paul needed Joshua—with every fibre of his being. He had to get his head out of his ass and concentrate on his lifelong friend and lover. He needed to keep his distance with Matt. For everyone’s sake. It wouldn’t be fair to anyone if he gave into his lust. Paul cleared his throat, buying time and hoping it might help clear his head as well. “How…ah…how about we go rustle up some lunch before Nate cracks his whip and puts you to work?” “Sure. That sounds great.” Paul could hear the small reserve, the tiny retreat that had slipped into Matt’s voice quite clearly now. Hell, even his body language was closed off and withdrawn. It was for the best, he repeated to himself over and over as he walked out of the room, heading to the kitchen to grab them something to eat with Matt trailing along behind him. But he wasn’t sure he really believed himself. And Joshua was suspiciously quiet.

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Chapter Seven

Paul watched in awe as Matt bustled around the club, soothing a ruffled feather here, cajoling a ruffled feather there. He placed orders and restocked bars. He checked rosters and kept the books immaculately. In fact, in the three weeks he had been with them, Matt had settled in as if he had been born and bred to the pride. He was hard working, friendly and accepting of everyone, no matter who—or what—they were. And Paul struggled every day to keep away. Put quite simply, Matt was amazing…on so many levels. The more time passed, the more drawn to the man Paul found himself becoming until the need was almost overwhelming. And acutely painful. He followed Matt with his eyes as the man stepped up to help stock the bar, ready for the busy Friday night trade. It certainly hadn’t taken Nate long to appreciate Matt’s management abilities in addition to his bookkeeping skills. In fact, Nate had been stepping back more and more from the full-time, day-to-day running of The Cat Club over the past couple of weeks, especially since Devon had turned up. For whatever reason, Nate was very attached to the shy little pleasure cat and rarely left his side these days. So it was just as well Matt had stepped up to the plate so enthusiastically. The fact that Matt really was a fantastic club manager was a huge bonus. They were so very lucky to have him. And Paul could feel his dick getting hard just thinking about having him as Matt bent at the waist to retrieve a stack of serviettes. Fuck! Paul took a deep breath and slowly let it out, concentrating on getting his cock back under control. He never thought he’d ever think it, but Paul was glad Joshua was resting again. He really didn’t want his lover witnessing the struggle he was going through containing his reaction to the club's new manager. Not that Joshua seemed to mind at all—he’d been growing more and more aware of Joshua subtly encouraging him to follow Matt with his eyes. He got the feeling he wasn’t the only one falling for Matt’s charms. And Joshua had been downright vicious when they’d finally caught up with the gang that had attacked Matt.

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Of course, neither of them intended for Matt to ever find out about that little incident. The gang of thugs that had attacked him would never be a problem to anyone again, however. Paul doubted they’d stopped running yet, even a week after he had tracked them down and threatened to feed them their balls if they ever came anywhere near Matt again. Through a straw! Strange how Matt’s satchel and wallet had mysteriously been handed in to the police that very same afternoon by a well-meaning citizen. They’d thought about paying Mrs Rossini and her nasty little dog a visit too, but had quickly dismissed it. Matt might forgive them threatening the gang members if he ever found out about it, but he probably wouldn’t be so understanding of them harassing a little old lady. Even if she was a nasty old bitch. Paul watched as Matt laughed at something Trent was saying as they restocked the bar together on the other side of the club. Everyone was pitching in to get the place ready for opening in an hour. Paul growled low and mean in the back of his throat. He didn’t see why Trent needed to stand so close. Paul had to fight hard to suppress an instinctive release of his sheathed claws when Trent’s hand landed on Matt’s forearm. Trent was a huge flirt and would go for anything on two legs or four. He’d find it difficult when Paul handed him his still beating heart though. Mine! “He’s cute.” Paul spun around to find Luke standing behind him with a huge grin on his face as he gestured with his chin at Matt. “You should put that fucking brother of yours on a leash!” Paul turned back to scowl at the offending brother. Luke chuckled. “You’re telling me. So you really like Matt, huh?” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Paul snapped. “We’re just friends.” “Sure,” Luke drawled. “You keep telling yourself that.” Honestly, the man sounded like a ten year old. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paul retorted, his anger starting to change focus at the suggestion he would ever cheat on Joshua. Not that Luke would have any idea about that, but still. “Haven’t you got anything better to do than gossip like an old woman?” he bit out, deciding to attack rather than continue with the ridiculous conversation.

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“Sure, boss,” Luke replied cheekily. “Just enjoying the scenery. You should too. No law says you can’t enjoy what’s on offer. You’re free and unattached. He’s free and unattached and has as much trouble keeping his eyes off you as you have keeping your tongue in your head whenever he’s around. You should go ahead and have a little fun. It’d be good for you.” With that Luke sauntered away, wicked smile still firmly in place. “Asshole,” Paul growled under his breath. Damn cheeky upstart. It might be time to show Luke who the higher ranked cat in the pride hierarchy was. “But he’s right, you know,” Joshua whispered softly into his mind. “He is cute. I like him.” “I thought you were asleep.” “I know you did.” “Joshua—” “Maybe you should listen to Luke. I think he’s right—Matt would be good for you. And you’d be good for Matt, too.” “Don’t start, Joshua,” Paul growled under his breath. “What?” Joshua asked innocently. But, of course, he didn’t leave it at that. “I’m just saying I think the two of you would be good for each other. I wouldn’t mind, Paul. I like him. He could be exactly what you need.” “I don’t need you to find me a little playmate, Joshua. Now just leave it alone,” he snapped, his anger growing exponentially. “I think you do. You’re getting to be a grumpy old bastard. Live a little, play a little. I’m not going to be here forev—” Paul didn’t let Joshua finish the sentence. His temper exploded full force. “Don’t!” he roared, not bothering to hold back the feline snarl that bubbled up from deep in his chest. “Don’t you dare say it! Don’t even think it. You're mine, Joshua Wittman. Mine! You’re not going anywhere. I won’t let you go!” With that Paul let out another feral snarl of fury and did the equivalent of mentally slamming the door in his shocked lover’s face. When he glanced around, he saw the others in the room were giving him strange looks as he stormed across the club. But he really didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t even acknowledge them. He needed to get away—somewhere outside where he could cool off, vent, run…something.

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Unfortunately, there wasn’t really anywhere he could run to truly escape this. And the realisation only made him angrier.

**** Matt—along with everyone else in the club—stood frozen to the spot. Too stunned to move as Paul stomped away, slamming the side door to the club behind him with a deafening bang on his way out. The man looked furious. Matt stared around, wondering if there was anyone in the club who might have some idea what was going on with the man. But everyone looked as perplexed as he was. A few started whispering together, some shrugged and turned away, getting back to work. Some gazed around nervously, just as Matt was doing—looking for answers. Eventually, everyone started getting back to work. There was certainly plenty to do before the place opened and Matt knew he should be hopping to it as well. But something about the look on Paul’s face wouldn’t let him go. In the last three weeks, it had become increasingly difficult to stay away. Much as he tried to keep his distance—constantly reminding himself not to get fooled into thinking he was part of the pride—he couldn’t help it. The pride felt like the warmest, closest thing to home he’d ever come across since his mum died. And Paul was burrowing further and further under his skin every day. He wanted this. He wanted to belong. He wanted to belong to— Matt cut off the thought. No good would ever come of thinking like that. He didn’t believe Paul would ever intentionally hurt him, but the sad truth was he could and probably would. Paul was never likely to see him as an equal, which would doom any relationship they might have. Unfortunately, Matt very much feared he was already half way towards falling for the other man regardless. But it would be stupid to let it go any further. Despite all that, Matt couldn’t ignore the look on Paul’s face as he had stormed from the club. Beneath the anger that seemed to have erupted from deep inside the man for no apparent reason, Matt sensed a soul-deep pain. It wasn’t something he could just disregard.

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Against his better judgement, Matt headed after Paul. He needed to make sure the man was all right. That Paul knew if he needed to talk, needed someone to listen or lean on— Matt sighed as he headed for the door. So much for only being half way towards falling for the guy!

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Chapter Eight

Paul stalked along the narrow alleyway beside the club and tried not to grind his teeth. He had enough problems without adding dental complications to the list. They didn’t have a qualified pride dentist yet, and he could just imagine trying to explain his ‘interesting’ teeth to an outsider. There weren’t many obvious differences between a cat shifter in their human form and an actual human, but what was inside their mouths was definitely a dead giveaway. Their teeth weren’t the right shape or number, and there were groves in the upper palate that would allow fangs to drop down if they needed to defend themselves in a hurry. Or when they were royally pissed off. And right now, Paul’s fangs ached. He wanted to release them and rip someone or something apart. “Calm down, Paul!” Paul didn’t trust himself to say anything back to Joshua right now. Whatever reply he made wasn’t likely to be nice. He growled and kept on walking, swiping angrily at an empty garbage can, enjoying the loud, clattering boom it made as it rolled away. “You’re overreacting.” “The fuck I am.” “Paul, we need to talk about this. We have to face the fact that I’m—” “Shut the fuck up right now or I swear I’m coming in there and putting you over my knee.” Joshua snorted. “That ought to be interesting.” Paul growled again—the sound so deep and menacing that all the amusement instantly evaporated from Joshua’s presence in his mind. “All I’m saying is—” “I know what the fuck you’re saying! Okay! I just don’t know how you can say it. How you can even suggest that I should go out and pick someone else up. That I should—” “I did not suggest you should just ‘go out and pick someone else up’! Stop twisting—” Paul’s mental voice rose sharply, bristling with indignation. “Twisting! If this isn’t fucking twisted I don’t know what—” “Hello, Paul.” Paul spun around at the unexpected, but comfortingly familiar voice behind him.

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That was it. He was really going to have to get his head out of his ass—every man and his fucking…well, hawk, in this case…was creeping up on him at the moment! “Hawk,” Paul finally managed in what he was relieved to hear was a reasonably civilised tone. Paul watched as the man he knew only as The Hawk stepped out of the shadows. Today his face was obscured from view by a baseball cap and hooded jacket, but the scent and the lean, muscular body it came from were so unforgettable Paul instantly relaxed. It had always been this way between them. Paul felt…safe with Hawk. “How are you, Paul?” Paul shrugged. “Fine.” It was funny, sometimes he felt like he was talking to a parent when he spoke with Hawk. Only he didn’t have parents anymore and the ones he’d had never really went out of their way to understand him, or even talk to him. Besides, Hawk was really far too young. Maybe an older brother then. Hawk continued to stare at him—his face reflecting neither disbelief nor faith that Paul was telling the truth. Paul gazed back steadily. He refused to start fidgeting nervously— though the urge was strong. He didn’t want Hawk to see any signs of weakness. It was just another, slightly complicated and confusing aspect of their relationship— whatever the hell that was. Paul desperately wanted Hawk to see him as strong and reliable, not a psycho cat who was busy fighting with his non-corporeal lover. He wasn’t sure why he craved Hawk’s good opinion. Perhaps it was because Hawk was the first person who had ever shown any real interest in him. The first person who had treated him as if he was normal and had ultimately helped him to fit in. It had been Hawk, all those years ago, who had rescued him, made sure he had a secure place to live and grow up and ensured there was a place for him in the pride. He was eternally grateful for that. He didn’t want to disappoint the man. He didn’t want Hawk to ever regret saving him, or think it had been a waste of time. He wanted Hawk to be…proud of him. Of course there was also something about Hawk that felt familiar to Paul on a bonedeep level. Like a piece of him recognised a fellow misfit. “I need you to take a message to the pride for me,” Hawk finally said after a protracted pause. “Of course.”

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“The pleasure cat that joined the pride recently—” “Devon isn’t actually part of the pride yet. Nate’s been…looking into the matter.” “You think he’s a threat?” Hawk asked, serious and straight to the point as always. “Devon? No. He’s too…” Paul struggled for the right word. “I don’t know…too sincere.” Hawk snorted. “Sincerity can hide a multitude of sins.” Hawk sounded bitter and much more world-weary than his appearance would suggest. Then he straightened, all traces of the real man beneath ‘The Hawk’ facade disappearing in an instant. “He needs to be taken to The Compound.” A part of Paul wished Hawk hadn’t withdrawn again. He often found himself wishing he could get closer to the mysterious man who had done so much for the pride. Had done so much for him. But Hawk had always been a little aloof—keeping them all at arm’s length. Paul forced himself to respect that religiously—which might have been why Hawk always seemed to choose to interact with the pride through him. Paul knew whatever kept Hawk from opening up was obviously very personal. And some things couldn’t be shared. Still, Paul needed to know more this time. He had a pride to protect. “Why Devon? We’ve had other cats drop in on us before. What’s so special about this one? What do you know?” “Nothing. Well, nothing certain, anyway. I just think he should be taken to The Compound for safekeeping.” Paul’s eyes narrowed. He knew Hawk wasn’t telling him everything, and that he would have his reasons. But he hated being kept in the dark when the pride could be at risk. It was useless trying to pressure Hawk to reveal more, however. If he’d learnt nothing else about the man over the years, it was that he played his cards very close to his chest. Paul didn’t have to like it though. He felt his previous frustration and anger bubbling to the surface again. “Is he a danger to the pride?” Paul asked, wondering if he’d been wrong to dismiss Devon so easily. “Honestly? No, I really don’t think so. But as I said, I’ve seen stranger things happen.” Paul watched as a flicker of something passed through Hawk's eyes and was gone. He felt Joshua push to the surface, concerned for their friend.

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“Hawk, are you…all right?” his lover asked—the feeling of the other man manipulating his lips felt odd and cumbersome while Paul was still so close to the surface of their body. “I’m fine.” Paul tried to relax as Joshua fought to continue speaking, hoping the effort wasn’t draining the man too much. “Hawk, why don’t you stop now and join the pride? You would be more than welcome. I know there are still more cat shifter slaves out there, but…it’s getting dangerous. I can feel something coming. A darkness getting closer to you.” Hawk studied them for a moment. Paul could feel the weight of his stare drilling into them, probing and assessing even though he couldn’t see Hawk’s eyes clearly. Then a small smile tipped up the corner of Hawk’s mouth, just visible before the shadows concealed the rest of his face. “I know you’re…sensitive to this sort of thing, Paul. I’m not dismissing your concerns. And I thank you for caring. But I can’t stop. I promise to be careful though.” Joshua was tense and fretting now. Whatever he was picking up on was frightening him. Paul could feel how worried he was for their friend. “Hawk. Please. You’ve been so good to us…to us all. You’ve done enough—” Hawk stepped back suddenly, the smile gone instantly from his lips and his posture rigid. “You wouldn’t say that if—” Hawk took a deep breath in and slowly let it out again, as if centring himself. “I can never do enough, Paul. It’s not possible. There are things…things you don’t know about me.” “Hawk—” “No, Paul!” “Paul?” Spinning around, Paul saw Matt cautiously stepping away from the back door of the club—picking his way carefully towards them in the dark. He knew when he turned around Hawk would be gone, but he looked back anyway. Damn it! He hated when he was right sometimes.

****

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Matt blinked. He knew he’d seen a tall stranger—one that had been standing far too close to Paul for his liking—mere seconds ago. But now it was just Paul standing in the alleyway behind the club. Sure, it was dark, and there was the inevitable clutter that seemed to end up in a narrow alleyway between buildings, but he’d seen the man quite clearly—just not where or how he had disappeared. “Who was that?” Matt asked, straining to see around Paul’s broad shoulders. Perhaps the man had hidden behind one of the dumpsters, his brain tried to suggest, but none of them seemed close enough. As the seconds stretched out, he didn’t think Paul was going to answer. He just stared off down the alleyway in the general direction the stranger must have taken to escape. It was the only logical explanation Matt could come up with. He couldn’t have simply disappeared into thin air…could he? Suddenly, Paul turned and made to step around Matt—heading back to the club without making any eye contact. “Just a friend of the pride. Nothing for you to worry about,” Paul mumbled. Matt felt like Paul had punched him in the belly. Nothing for you to worry about. He couldn’t catch his breath and the blood was pounding in his ears—creating a white noise that dulled the sounds of the world around him. Paul couldn’t have made it any more obvious Matt was an outsider if he’d tried. Just a friend of the pride. He’d felt the slam of the metaphorical door in his face with every dismissive word. And, fuck, it hurt. Refusing to let Paul see the pain his words had caused, Matt squared his shoulders. He felt like enough of a pussy—Matt snorted at his own bad pun—without that. But he still couldn’t quite keep the snap out of his voice. “Fine.” Turning, Matt made his way back to the club. If Paul didn’t want to tell him who the fuck his friend was, fine. If he didn’t want Matt to get above himself and start worrying about his precious pride, fine. He’d just do his job. And he’d stop caring about Paul bloody Wittman. Really, he would. If the man wanted to stomp and snarl and shut everyone out, fine! “Matt! Wait!” Paul called after him, but Matt didn’t stop or turn back around. His chest hurt too much for that.

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“I’ll see you back inside, Paul. I’ve got things to do.”

**** Riven stepped back into the shadows as the smaller, brown haired man spun around on his heels and marched back towards the club’s side entry door. He did not look happy and the rigid set of his shoulders and back only emphasised the fact. He was completely ignoring the tall, blond cat shifter's efforts to call him back. But it was the man the shifter had been talking to before the human interrupted that really had Riven’s attention. Talan. And he’d been in contact with one of the Bayside pride members. What the hell is going on here? More importantly, how could he use it? All sorts of possibilities spun around in his head. Was Talan meeting with Vladimir’s spy? Did Vladimir know? Or was this a completely different contact? Someone Talan was keeping himself? A secret? If that was the case, it was sure to piss off Grand-Master Vladimir. He didn’t take kindly to clan members sneaking around, undermining his plans and authority. It was expected, of course—it was just incredibly stupid, and usually fatal, to get caught doing it, that’s all. A small smile started to form on Riven’s lips just thinking about the delicious possibilities this little titbit of information could gain him. Even Vladimir’s son wouldn’t be protected if he was plotting against the notoriously vicious clan leader. But he had to be careful. He had to be very, very careful. He could use this, but it had to be done in just the right way. If being Vladimir’s apprentice had taught him anything, it was patience and the value of sometimes waiting to devour your prey. Before he did anything, he needed more information. Riven eyed the cute little brown-haired man striding away from the man Talan had been talking to. He looked like a good place to start. Just angry and frustrated enough to open up if Riven was any judge. He looked rather vulnerable right now actually—hurt and pissed enough to talk if approached just right. Plan forming, Riven allowed himself to sink back into the shadows and disappear. He only had a tiny window of opportunity—until the end of this evening's Gathering night

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celebrations, in fact—before Vladimir would miss him. And he needed to get ready for a night out on the town.

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Chapter Nine

Joshua hovered just below the surface as Paul beckoned Nate over to them across the crowded club floor. Paul was really worrying him. If his lover got any more worked up he was going to crack a fang. The scene with Matt out in the alley—with the man walking away from them very obviously hurt and upset—had only made things worse. Paul was twice as twitchy and uptight now. Joshua had to admit he didn’t much like the thought of Matt being unhappy with them either. But right now he had bigger things to worry about. As they waited for Nate to weave his way through the throng, Paul gazed around the club—tense and agitated, just looking for a way to burn off some excess frustration. Finally their eyes came to rest on Devon—the little pleasure cat who had caught Nate’s attention so thoroughly in the last couple of weeks—as he sat at one of the high tables on the other side of the noisy club. Joshua nearly groaned in despair. This could all go real bad, real damn fast. “Maybe I should pick up a pretty little thing like Devon too, hey, Josh? I mean, why settle for just Matt? Shit, we work in a club. I could fuck my way through half the gay men in Bayside by Christmas if I really set my mind to it.” “Don’t be an asshole, Paul.” “I’m the asshole! You’re the one pushing me into another man’s arms.” “Paul. I—” “What’s up?” Nate asked, his voice hard and business-like. Apparently, he hadn’t missed them eyeing Devon. Shit! Joshua realised he hadn’t been paying attention. He wondered what sort of expression had been on their face as they argued back and forth inside their head. “The Hawk contacted us. He wants your pretty little playmate taken to The Compound,” Paul all but growled. “Paul! Watch what you’re saying, huh? You know Nate’s got it bad for Devon. He’s going to hand us our ass if you’re not careful.” “Do you have a problem with Devon?” Nate asked curtly.

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Paul shrugged nonchalantly and Joshua wanted to moan in despair. Was Paul trying to get them killed? “Paul!” Joshua warned. But Paul ignored him. “Did he say why he wants Devon moved?” Nate asked in a clipped tone. Joshua was actually incredibly impressed with how much restraint the other man was showing. He’d always liked Nate. He didn’t think he would have been anywhere near as understanding if someone had spoken about Paul like that…or Matt. Joshua sighed. There didn’t seem much point in denying he was every bit as attracted to Matt as Paul was. And no matter what Paul said, half of the fury and resentment he could feel pouring off his lover was based on guilt—completely senseless and wasted guilt—but still guilt. The other half was a mixture of pain and fear. Fuck, this was hard. For both of them. Joshua’s mounting irritation with Paul retreated, slowly ebbing away as he stopped to consider his lover. Poor Paul. Normally so strong and capable, he would feel utterly helpless in this situation. And helpless wasn’t something Paul dealt with well. Being bound, tormented and tortured by the witch had left deep scars in both of them. In Paul’s case, he needed to always be in control. Always. The mystery illness that was slowly eating away at Joshua would be pushing Paul to the very edge. Honestly, Joshua wasn’t sure what he would do if the circumstances were reversed. He’d probably go out of his mind with grief and anger too. “He didn’t say much. You know how Hawk is,” he heard Paul reply tersely. “He just said that the pleasure cat we found recently should be taken to The Compound for safekeeping. I assumed he meant your pleasure cat.” Joshua could feel how close to losing it Paul was. The tiniest thing threatened to send him over. And they couldn’t afford that. “Paul, I think you need to let me take over now.” “No. I can handle it.” “No, Paul. You can’t. You need a break.” “I—” “Please, Paul.” Joshua waited, holding his breath. Paul had never denied him anything. He prayed this wouldn’t be the first time.

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“Joshua—” “Please, Paul. For me.” “That’s not fair, Josh.” “All’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.” There was a long pause, and for a moment Joshua wasn’t sure which way Paul would go. “Fine.” Paul’s reply was short and clipped, but beneath it, Joshua thought he sensed a hint of relief. In that moment he knew he was right—Paul needed a break. Paul just didn’t want to admit it, even to himself. “Paul,” Joshua mentally soothed, stroking tenderly at his lover’s psyche. “Rest now, my love.” He sent out a gentle push of persuasion—nothing sinister or overt, simply a reassuring promise that it was safe to let go. That he would catch him. Paul allowed the touch to quietly pull him under—letting Joshua take control and rise to the outer layers of their body without a fight. Breathing in and blinking a few times, Joshua allowed himself a few seconds to adjust to the onslaught of sensations no longer filtered by Paul’s presence. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” he heard Nate saying as he struggled to fill Paul’s skin. Joshua looked around. Being this ‘close’, everything seemed suddenly brighter, louder and more vibrant. He took in the dancers, the music and the sharp scent of sweat, musk and alcohol. On the far side of the club he could see Devon—watching them with a scowl. With a smile—happy Nate had finally found someone who actually cared—Joshua leaned in closer to his friend’s ear. “Your little kitty is looking jealous.” Nate looked over at Devon, but the little cat had already looked away—eyes focussed on the dancers moving energetically on the dance floor. “Sorry about the attitude before, man. But you know he…ah…I’m right—he is a pretty little thing.”

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Slowly, Nate relaxed and Joshua felt relief course through him. The last thing they needed was Nate on their ass. They had enough to deal with right now without adding those sorts of complications to their already complicated life. “Matt’s pretty cute, too,” Nate said unexpectedly, a wicked twinkle in his eye and a slight smile pulling at his lips. Joshua grinned back—a little more of the tension melting away from him. “I wouldn’t let Devon hear you say that.” Nate’s eyes widened as he shook his head in denial. “I didn’t—” “Oh, relax! I know you didn’t mean anything by it. You wouldn’t stand a chance anyway.” Joshua tried to hold in a smirk as he turned his head—pretended to watch the crowded club. “Matt’s got taste.” A brief burst of laughter escaped Nate. “Asshole.” Joshua shrugged, letting the warmth of Nate’s easy laughter sweep over him. “I’ve been called worse.” It was nice, being able to relax and shoot-the-breeze with Nate like this, sharing a friendly moment with someone one-on-one. He knew it couldn’t last. He couldn’t maintain control of Paul’s body for any length of time without totally exhausting himself—and that wasn’t a smart idea right now. But while it lasted, Joshua was determined to enjoy it. “So, what do you think Trent and Dave are going to come up with next to torment poor Luke?” “Who the fuck knows? Those two will be the death of that poor boy.” “Nah. They love Luke too much for that. Besides, if they kill him, who would they torture then?” Nate shivered theatrically. “I don’t even want to think about it.” Joshua laughed and it felt amazing—the gentle rumble up from Paul’s belly, washing through him like liquid sunshine. Life was good, for however long he had. Joshua wasn’t going to waste a moment of it. Now all he had to do was help Paul see and do the same thing.

****

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Matt took a sip from his water and tried not to notice Paul and Nate huddled together, chatting and generally looking far too happy in each other’s company. Damn it! He knew he should be meeting and greeting. Working the crowd and generally overseeing the smooth running of the club. Instead he found himself nursing a glass and sulking. How pathetic! But he couldn’t seem to muster any enthusiasm to get up and circulate. He was mad and irritated—mostly at himself—and, yes, jealous. Yes, he admitted it. He was jealous. First the guy in the alley and now Nate—who he thought was hooking up with Devon, but who the hell knew around here? Perhaps cat shifters had different ideas about that sort of thing. After all, tomcats were pretty free-loving creatures. Matt took a deep breath. He needed a moment to come to terms and get his head back on straight. How the hell had he forgotten he was an outsider? How could he have let his guard down like that? He should know better by now. It— “Is this seat taken?” Jerked from his maudlin thoughts, Matt shook his head dumbly and watched as a tall, leanly built man with dark hair and the lightest green eyes he’d ever seen sat down on the barstool beside him. Mentally shaking himself, Matt put on his best manager’s smile. It didn’t feel like it wanted to stick around, but he forced it to anyway. He needed to get on with the job here. “No. Please, take a seat,” he finally managed to choke out. “Thank you.” Okay, time to pull it together, Matt. Friendly. Welcoming. He could do this. It was his job. And he was bloody good at it. If it was all he could ever be—to the pride and to Paul—well he’d be an absolutely amazing club manager. “So, are you enjoying your night?” He tried for open and interested, but thought it might have come off a little forced. “Yes. Thank you, I am. I couldn’t help noticing you don’t look very happy at the moment though.” “Oh!” Matt glanced around, hoping no one else had noticed “No. I mean…I love it here. I work here. I was just taking a break.”

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Shit, fuck and damn! Nice work, Matt! Amazing job! Let the patrons see you all miserable and moping in the club that puts a roof over your head. Dickhead! Get your head out of your ass! A warm hand settled on his forearm. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to upset you.” “No. It’s nothing. I mean, I’m fine. Really.” The man didn’t look like he believed Matt for a minute. Matt turned away—rotating his glass around and around on the bar, feigning fascination with the tiny beads of condensation that covered the tumbler’s clear surface and trying desperately to gather his composure. Now what the hell did he say? How could he gracefully excuse himself without appearing either rude or as if he was running away? Because clearly, he really needed to extract himself and get it together somewhere— preferably out of sight of the paying public. “Does it have anything to do with your friend over there?” the stranger suddenly asked. Matt’s head jerked up in surprise, following the man’s gaze to where Paul still stood talking with Nate. At that precise moment Paul looked across at Matt and a frown furrowed the man’s brow before he quickly tore his eyes away. Great! The last thing he needed was to draw Paul’s attention right now. “I don’t know what you’re—” “I saw you and your friend in the alleyway earlier.” What the— Matt stared at the stranger in shock. A prickle of unease chased up and down his spine. What the hell? This guy had been hanging around the back alley? That was…well, really creepy actually. “It’s not what you think. I wasn’t doing anything creepy.” Okay, now that was freaky. Could this guy read minds or something? Matt suddenly felt way out of his depth. And a little stupid. He’d discovered there were cat shifters out and about in the world, but never thought to find out what other ‘extraordinary’ beings were wandering around? What sort of a moron didn’t ask questions— big questions—about the world when they discovered something as huge as men who turned into cats? The kind of moron who’s thinking with the head in his pants instead of the one on his shoulders, the little voice in his head offered unhelpfully.

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“I was following the man your friend was meeting.” “Who the hell are you? Why are you following men into dark alleys?” The stranger quirked an eyebrow, but ignored the question. “The man your friend was meeting, he’s not someone to be trusted.” But I should trust you? Matt studied the man beside him. He didn’t trust him. Not for a second. He may have no intuition and a lousy sense of direction, but he wasn’t completely stupid. At the same time he couldn’t stop listening to what the man had to say. Who knew what the hell was going on or what the man’s intent might be, but what if Paul was in danger somehow? Matt’s heart did an odd little heave in his chest before accelerating to a near gallop at the thought of Paul being threatened. “You know the other man in the alley?”he asked hesitantly, carefully feeling his way forward in the conversation. “Oh, yes! And he’s not someone I’d want anywhere near anyone I cared for.” Something about the way the man said it gave Matt pause. There was a starkness to the statement—an edge of bitterness to the words that was both brutal and painfully honest at the same time. It made Matt think there was far more to what the man was saying than met the eye. And it made him worry—both for the pride and for Paul. Whatever the man’s motivations might be and regardless of whether he could be trusted or not, there was definitely something deep and…dangerous going on beneath the surface here. And Matt didn’t want to see his friends getting hurt by it. “Is everything all right here?” The sound of Paul’s deep rumble directly behind him made Matt start in alarm, even as a shiver of awareness skittered across his skin. Matt spun around, the breath catching in his throat at the dark, menacing look on the cat shifter's face. “Quite all right, thank you,” the stranger replied calmly. Matt had no idea how the man could hold up so stoically against Paul’s look. He certainly hoped he was never on the receiving end of it. “Matt?”Paul asked, sounding distinctly unconvinced and a little ominous. “It… It’s fine, Paul. Really.”

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But apparently Paul wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable. He certainly gave no indication he was going to back down any time soon. He glared at the man, until finally the stranger got to his feet. “If you’ll excuse me. I think I’d better be going now.” “No,” Matt said, snapping out of his daze and belatedly trying to defuse the tense situation. They couldn’t arbitrarily drive off customers like this. “Please stay. Have a drink on the house.” “Perhaps another time.” After watching the man walk away—heading straight for the exit—Matt whirled around to confront Paul. “What were you thinking?” he hissed under his breath. Paul was completely unfazed. “I was thinking I didn’t like the look of that guy.” “What are you talking about? He was—” “Creepy. And he was touching you.” “What? Why you—” Matt suddenly realised people around them were starting to stare. “Not here,” he managed between gritted teeth. Without waiting to see if Paul would follow, Matt spun on his heels and made his way to the storeroom behind the bar—getting good and mad as he went. Once the door was shut behind them, Matt let fly. “Lots of people touch me, Paul.” Matt couldn’t quite refute the creepy accusation though—he’d thought exactly the same thing about the man at one point. Paul growled. Matt rolled his eyes. “What the hell is your problem? What business is it of yours who touches me? More importantly, the point is you can’t be frightening off customers from the club like that.” “I…I didn’t like it. I didn’t like seeing him with you.” “Well tough. I didn’t like seeing you meeting that guy in the alley either. But since you’ve made it perfectly clear I’m not to interfere—” “I never said that. When did I say that? You’re putting words into my mouth.” Matt sighed and rubbed his fingers into his aching temples. This was all getting way out of hand. He wasn’t even sure what this was. Whatever it was, it was hardly the point

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anyway. Ignoring his silly hurt feelings, and whatever burr was up Paul’s butt this evening, Matt tried to focus on what was really important. “Okay. Look, none of that’s important right now.” Paul looked like he wanted to argue, but Matt ploughed on ahead before he could interrupt. “It’s just getting us sidetracked. Regardless of whether the guy was creepy or not, what he had to say made me worry about the guy you were meeting in the alley tonight.” “What? What the hell did he say?” “Honestly, not very much. Somebody frightened him away. But what he did start to say had me worried. Look, I know it’s none of my business. He’s a ‘pride friend’ and all that. But just how well do you know this ‘friend’ anyway?” “What are you suggesting?” “I wasn’t suggesting anything. I’m simply wondering if you really know this ‘friend’ or you just think you do. I mean do you really know what or who he is? “Hawk—” “Hawk? Really? Do you even know his real name?” “Don’t go there, Matt. I know Hawk. He’s a friend. I’d trust him with my life.” Matt’s eyes narrowed. “Really? Just how close a ‘friend’ is he?” “Close. He saved my life. He saved half the shifters in the pride at one time or another. Some more than once. It’s not even a question. I know we can trust Hawk.” Matt studied Paul. It was quite obvious from the closed look on his face he wasn’t prepared to listen to a word he said. “Fine.” Matt spun around to walk away, but Paul reached out and snagged his arm before he could move more than a step away. “Stop doing that. Don’t just—” Paul seemed to hunt for the words without much success. “Don’t what?” “Don’t just walk away and say fine when it’s not. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for you to think I didn’t want to talk to you. But Hawk is…Hawk is a special case. He’s…different.” “I know I’m not a part of the pride and that I’m an outsider, but—” “What? Where the hell did that come from?” “It’s okay. I know the score. I know—”

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“Have we treated you like an outsider? I mean even once since you got here? Have I?” “I know you’re still watching over me, that you still don’t trust me. I see you doing it all the time—watching me, making sure I don’t do anything to put the pride in danger. And that’s fine. I’m an outsider. I’m not even a shifter for crying out loud and I know I owe you all a lot for allowing me to st—” Suddenly, Paul was kissing him—hard and fierce. Within seconds his tongue was licking along the seam of Matt’s lips, demanding entrance and stealing his breath as it thrust inside to begin a deep, thorough exploration and tasting. Matt’s poor overwhelmed brain couldn’t fight it. He moaned and opened wider for Paul’s invasion, stroking and encouraging and begging for more. Soon their bodies were fused together, mimicking the thrust and slide of their tongues. Urgently seeking more, they worked furiously against each other. Pushing and pulling. Struggling higher and higher until— “Matt! I—” One of the barmen stuck his head around the door, stopping short and quickly retreating when he caught sight of them locked together, grinding helplessly against one another. “Oops. Sorry. I…ah—” Startled into pulling away from Paul’s lips, Matt stared up at the man’s passion clouded eyes. Stunned didn’t even come close to describing what he was feeling right now. Neither did horny enough to explode. He couldn’t quite catch his breath and his heart beat wildly in his ears…and his cock. “I…ah. I think I’d better…go… I—” Paul pulled him in close again until they were nose to nose. “You owe nothing. And you’re no outsider. Not to me,” Paul rumbled rough and low before stealing another hard, closed-mouth kiss. “You’d better go now, before I change my mind and tie you up until you start making sense.”

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Chapter Ten

Lowering his head into his hands, Paul scrubbed at the short, stiff strands of his hair in frustration. Everything was so…complicated right now. And it was getting more so every time he turned around. Glancing about the club from where he sat partially concealed by the shadows, he could see that the closing was almost done now. All the others were either finished or finishing up their jobs and heading upstairs. Soon there would be just Matt left in the bar as he shut the night’s takings away in the safe. Paul straightened and slowly began the familiar process of double checking the doors to make sure everything was locked up properly. It might be overkill, but he’d never liked the idea of leaving Matt down here on his own. And this evening they needed to talk. He knew he’d made a right ass out of himself tonight. But he hardly knew where to start putting things to rights. He certainly shouldn’t have yelled at Joshua. In fact, Joshua was the last person he should be yelling at, all things considered. While he didn’t necessarily appreciate it, Joshua was only doing what he thought was best—trying to help him in a twisted sort of a fucked up way. But when Joshua had hinted that he might be dy— Paul took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He couldn’t think about that right now. Instead he concentrated on trying to fix things on the ‘outside’. He’d hurt Matt somehow in the alley—the man obviously had issues with fitting into the pride, even though Paul thought he’d been doing an amazing job. And finally he’d deliberately provoked Nate by being disrespectful of Devon. In short, he’d taken his anger and frustration out on the two men—which was totally wrong—and been a complete asshole. To be honest, he wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking at the time. For one thing, it was stupid to piss off your group leader. Joshua had been forced to come to his rescue and stop him before he did something really idiotic and start a knock-down-drag-‘em-out fight with the boss. And just how the hell had it come to that?

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It was lucky Joshua had been there to take over for a while until he’d had time to cool down a bit. He hoped Nate didn’t hold it against him. From what he had seen, Nate and Joshua seemed to be doing all right before he had gone to ‘the room’. But the exertion had left Joshua so weak it scared him. Great, something else to feel guilty for. Paul sighed as he tested the front door, checking to see it was properly secured for the night. Someone breaking in would be all he needed right now. As he rattled the lock he found himself thinking about what he had seen and heard from ‘the room’. He knew Joshua didn’t think he’d been aware at the time, but he’d felt how much Joshua had enjoyed being in control and talking to Nate. And he’d been all too aware of Joshua’s determination to enjoy his life, however long it turned out to be. The aching hole Joshua’s thoughts had burned into Paul’s soul still hurt. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Joshua, but Paul couldn’t fault his lover for wanting to grab all that life had to offer while he could. And more importantly, he couldn’t deny Joshua anything. If the man wanted this he’d make it happen. Which brought them back to Matt. Matt. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to Matt since their encounter in the storage room. And he knew he needed to talk to the man. All night since that incredible moment their lips had met and the passion and lust had ignited between them they’d been eyeing each other— sharing sly glances and wondering looks. Actually, he’d found it nearly impossible to keep his eyes off the man. He’d found Matt mesmerising before he’d felt the heat and enthusiasm contained in the smaller man. Now with one admittedly amazing kiss, it seemed the infatuation that had slowly been growing worse over the last few weeks had exploded until it was now an all-consuming need. And the more he tried to fight it the more he seemed to fall under Matt’s spell. He wanted to reach out and stroke Matt’s slightly rough looking jaw. This late in the night he had a very faint stubbly shadow and he ached to run his tongue over it and taste the man beneath. He wanted to pull the man close and rub his— “All done,” Matt called out, breaking into Paul’s reverie. Paul cocked his head. He noticed the words hadn’t been said with Matt’s usual exuberance. There was an edge of tension and nervousness Paul knew was his fault. And Matt was avoiding eye contact now too. It looked like he had some explaining, and probably some serious sucking up, to do.

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Walking over to where Matt stood, studiously polishing a non-existent stain on the bar with a soft cloth, Paul managed to keep his hands to himself. He wanted to pull the uncertain man into his arms, but some things needed to be said first. And he knew if he put his hands anywhere near Matt there wouldn’t be any talking going on for a good long time. “I’m sorry, Matt.” Matt stiffened and looked up at him. “What for?” “Not for kissing you,” Paul said quickly. There’d been enough misunderstanding and confusion for one night. “I don’t regret kissing you for a second. But I’m sorry if…well, if you ever felt you didn’t belong here. If I ever made you think I didn’t trust you. For not letting you know…how much I…like you. Not just like you being in the pride, but”—Paul looked into Matt’s startled eyes—”simply like you.” Without meaning to, he reached out and ran a finger down Matt’s cheek—slightly rough with new whiskers but all the more enticing for it. He wondered what the stubble would feel like brushing against his own. Or rubbing along his neck, then…lower. Matt’s eyes widened, staring up at him in surprise and Paul was lost. Moving on instinct, he dipped his head and touched his lips to Matt’s soft, slightly parted mouth. It only took a few stunned seconds before Matt was kissing him back fiercely, stumbling forwards until he ended up crushed against Paul’s chest. Tender flesh bruised, teeth clicked, and he instinctively put his arms around the man to stop them from falling over. Matt moaned into Paul’s mouth, suddenly taking the kiss to the next level when he thrust his tongue in and began touching and tasting eagerly. Paul responded to the new sensation passionately, meeting the man’s tongue thrust for thrust, lick for intimate lick. In the back of his mind, he could feel his lover’s gentle, encouraging psychic push. “He’s so beautiful, isn’t he? So bright. So pure,” Joshua was murmuring softly. “Mmm. So beautiful,” Paul agreed aloud. Suddenly, Matt was gone. Pulling out of his arms and pushing him away. His face was shuttered and withdrawn now where moments ago it had been open and eager. “You had me, okay!” Matt was saying, no longer willing to look him in the eye. “You don’t have to lie to me to get into my pants.”

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For a moment, Paul was taken aback. What had happened to the bold, sexy man he was holding in his arms a moment ago? One minute they were kissing and trying to get closer to each other, the next Matt was pushing him away as if hurt and embarrassed. Paul started to get angry. A slow burning fury filling his gut. “We think you’re beautiful and we’ll tell you you’re beautiful!” He was so mad he wasn’t even being careful with how he referred to himself and Joshua at the moment. “Don’t you call us liars. Don’t you dare paint us with the same brush as that bastard.” “Who?” Matt asked, blinking up at him, obviously stunned and confused by his outburst. “Whoever put that sad, hurt look in your eyes. Who was he?” Paul demanded. Matt turned his head away and tried to back up, but Paul wouldn’t let him get away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Matt denied, moving to step away again. “Don’t lie to me,” he snapped, catching hold of Matt’s upper arms and forcing him to at least stay still. “What do you care?” Matt suddenly screamed back at him, fear and pain coming out in his angry voice. Paul couldn’t take it. He kissed him again—a thorough, demanding kiss. Hard lips, nipping teeth and tongues lashed wildly at each other. Paul wouldn’t think about it anymore. He couldn’t. He wanted to show this man how beautiful he was to them. Needed to take them right to the edge of desire, then push them off recklessly. And he wanted to lose himself in Matt, at least for a little while. “Want you,” he rumbled between teasing caresses of his soon-to-be lover’s swollen lips. Matt shook his head in denial, but at the same time Paul felt a hand working its way between their bodies to squeeze his throbbing cock and stroke up and down its tortured length. He threw back his head in appreciation and groaned. “Don’t be afraid,” he moaned, then gasped as Matt applied just the right amount of pressure with his thumb to his taut cockhead. “Oh, Matt! Please. Please. Never hurt you.” Suddenly, Matt was fumbling between them, and he joined him in freeing their eager cocks from the confines of their trousers. Precum flowed from their slits like warm honey and he used it to ease his way, as he wrapped his big hand around both their shafts and began a steady pumping motion.

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More and more precum leaked over and around their cocks and his hand. Matt was grunting, the soft sounds of his passion only driving them on. Paul wanted this. Even more than that, he wanted to share this moment of bliss between himself and Matt with Joshua. He opened his mind completely to his lover, feeling Joshua’s own mounting excitement and pleasure join them. Suddenly, a fountain of cum erupted between them. Splatters landed on their clothes— shirt and trousers getting messed up as they came together in long, creamy shots—but neither of them cared as they rode the wave of their orgasm. Seed coated Paul’s hand, dripping down his fist onto the floor. Joshua’s cry of joy and pleasure, mingling with Paul and Matt’s, created a perfect symphony of sound in and around Paul. As their orgasms ebbed away, they leaned against each other, spent and panting from their exertion. Matt leaned in to Paul, his head rested neatly into the crook of his shoulder, as if it belonged there. Joshua, breathless and panting softly, snuggled close in his mind. Paul could feel him slowly relaxing, all soft and sated. Suddenly, he felt Matt tense and still, as if waiting to see what would happen next. Paul, acting purely on instinct, placed soft, lingering kisses and the occasional lick along his extended neck worshipfully. He continued loving on the man, not wanting to lose this incredible moment, wanting to spin it out as long as possible. Slowly, Matt seemed to relax and let out a tiny whimper of longing, as if soaking up the adoration and devotion and wanting more. In his mind, he could feel Joshua’s need to reach out and touch Matt too. The man was almost crying out with longing. He mentally stroked his lover, crooning and petting, trying to soothe some of his frustration at not being able to get to Matt. “Anthony,” Matt whispered, instantly getting Paul’s attention. “Anthony White. He was my supervisor.” Matt’s voice was deceptively quiet and unemotional. But both Paul and Joshua could feel the man’s inner turmoil as he spoke. “He was tall and handsome. So sophisticated and confident. Well, I thought it was sophistication, but it was really just arrogance and self-conceit. He was openly bisexual and every woman and gay man I worked with wanted him. Then one day he chose me. I couldn’t believe it when he asked me out. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.” Matt hid his head in Paul’s shoulder now and took a deep, shuddering breath. Paul simply adjusted his stance and held him tight. “I was so stupid, so naive. I was besotted with him and the things he said to me, the way he spoke to

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me. He told me how much he wanted me and how he thought I was beautiful. How he couldn’t believe he would have a chance with me. I…I let him fuck me in the office that night,” he confessed. “I thought I’d found someone who finally saw me. Was attracted to me.Wanted me. I just…I wanted to…find someone. You know…someone special. Someone who knew I was there. I’ve always felt like an outsider and when Anthony—” Matt took a deep, shuddering breath, as if gathering himself together, before continuing on with renewed determination. “It was stupid of me. I should never have let it happen. But it did. I was prepared to live with it even when I got the distinct feeling afterwards that I was getting the brush off now he had got what he wanted, namely my ass. That would have been bad enough, but the next day I overheard him bragging about it to some of the others. He told them how he had got to me so easily. How I was so desperate that I just bent right over and let him fuck me up the ass. Then they all had a good laugh. I resigned the same day, just walked away. I couldn’t face them, couldn’t work with them, wondering if every time they looked at me whether they were remembering what Anthony had said to them. So I found casual jobs, like the telemarketing job I lost when I was attacked. I pulled in my belt and went back to school and got more training. I locked myself away so no one like Anthony could get to me again. So no one could whisper sugared lies about how beautiful I was and fuck me over again.” Paul hurt for the man. Their man.Their lover. He wrapped his arms around Matt and nuzzled the top of his bent head affectionately, breathing in the musky scent of their lovemaking and Matt’s own unique fragrance. Joshua wanted to tell him everything would be all right now. That they would be together now and no one would be allowed to hurt him like that ever again. Paul wanted to go out and hunt down Anthony White, skin him alive, then tan his hide and present it to Matt to use as a rug. Maybe one of those little rugs for in front of the toilet. They settled on something far simpler. “I see you. I want you,” Paul whispered into Matt’s ear. “Will you…will you stay with me? Tonight, I mean. I just…” Paul cleared his throat, a little embarrassed by how sappy he was feeling right now. “I just want to hold you for a little while.” “You…you want to…for a little while…?” Paul nodded. “For the rest of the night.” “I…I think I’d like that.”

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For a moment, peaceful and tender silence stretched out between them—Matt, Paul and Joshua. Then Matt pulled away a little. “I know you trust this guy, this ‘Hawk’, but…please, just be careful okay? Just promise me you’ll be careful.” Matt snuggled back into Paul’s chest and Paul’s heart swelled a little with emotion. It seemed that at the end of the day, Matt was concerned for them. He was worried and simply looking out for them. Matt cared for them, and Paul couldn’t deny he cared deeply for Matt. Somehow the smaller man had burrowed his way into a special, secret little part of their heart Paul hadn’t even realised existed, and he had no intention of renouncing it. “I promise. I’ll be careful, okay?” “Okay. Thank you.” Matt breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thank you for trusting me, Paul.” The deep peace and satisfaction that Paul had been feeling only seconds before dimmed a little under Matt’s words. He did trust Matt. The man had proven himself worthy on so many levels. But there was one thing Paul hadn’t trusted him with—Joshua. Fear raced through Paul. It would be the ultimate show of trust, but he wasn’t sure he could do it. What if Matt flipped out? What if Matt didn’t understand? What if he rejected them? Paul tightened his arms around Matt, only releasing his hold when Matt squeaked in protest. He didn’t know if he could risk that. It was too much. “You okay?” Matt asked, pulling away again to regard Paul with serious, concerned eyes. “Yeah,” Paul choked out, rough with emotion. “I’m fine. Let’s go up, huh?” Matt’s smile melted him, but didn’t quite push the fear away completely. “I like that idea.” “Shh, Paul. I’ll be all right. Let’s take our man upstairs.” Nodding, Paul took Matt by the hand. For tonight this was all he needed to think about—just Matt and Joshua and exploring each other. The rest would undoubtedly take care of itself.

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Chapter Eleven

Joshua knew he was dying. He probably didn’t have much more than another couple of days if he was quiet and rested. But he didn’t want to go quietly. He didn’t want to just fade away. He wanted to go out with a bang. One last party before the end. Strangely enough, he had slightly more energy than usual today. It was weird, but then so were a lot of things about his life. It was probably some sort of last gasp kind of thing before the end. And he had every intention of using it. Last night had been fantastic, if a little bittersweet. Paul and Matt were beautiful together, and Joshua had enjoyed every minute of being with them, even if only peripherally. He could go now with some measure of peace knowing Matt would be there to look after their big, beautiful lover when Joshua was gone. It really did make him feel better knowing Paul wouldn’t be alone. Before he went, however, Joshua wanted to experience some of that joy for himself—the all consuming ecstasy of connecting physically with another. And not just anyone either. Joshua wanted the amazing man who he and his lover had found bruised and bloodied in a park one night and were quickly falling head-over-heels in love with. And he was falling in love with Matt, every bit as far and as fast as Paul—if and when the stubborn man decided to admit it. But, whereas he knew in his soul Paul and Matt would be together for long, endless years to come, he only had this small window of opportunity to fit a lifetime of loving into. They were right for each other, even if the circumstances sucked. For a moment he wanted to share in that rightness. Slipping into Paul’s consciousness he gently put his big lover to sleep. It would be better this way—less painful for them both really. When Paul woke, he planned on it being in Matt’s arms, so at least their lover would be there for him in the days and months to come as Paul came to terms with Joshua’s absence. He wasn’t foolish enough to think Paul wouldn’t be in pain. Of course he would grieve. But, at least he would have Matt to help him through it now. Matt would be there, even if he couldn’t understand the sorrow.

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Stripping off Paul’s usual, dull work clothes he chose a fabulous black silk shirt and ultra sexy tight leather trousers that outlined his ass and bulging cock outrageously. Looking himself over in the mirror, Joshua smiled. He looked hot. Damn hot. Definitely hot enough for one more party. He laughed aloud—just because he could. He was determined to push all the sadness away. It had no place with him tonight. It’s been one hell of a ride. Not many people could say they had seen and done as much as he had. And to have shared it with the man he loved with all his soul no less. Then to be experiencing that first, heady flush of new love with Matt before the end…well, he felt truly blessed. It had been a good life, he acknowledged, picking up his last letter to Paul and taping it to the bathroom mirror where he would see it first thing tomorrow morning. Joshua closed his eyes. Breathing in and then slowly letting the air leave his lungs. He pushed the sudden heartache away. It was time to party. Grinning, Joshua hurried downstairs. With every step he could feel the beat of the music getting stronger. His heart picking up speed with excitement and anticipation until at last he pushed through the private door at the bottom of the stairwell and all but tumbled into the club. All around him, the music was thumping and the crowd was grinding and working against one another. Joshua wanted to fall into the mass and lose himself completely. But first he had to find a certain sexy club manager to take with him. He moved cross to the bar and ordered a drink, gazing around intently until he spotted his quarry. Matt. Looking particularly hot in a cute little button-up pinstriped shirt and nicely tailored dark trousers. Very nice. Slowly, he stalked his way over, waiting impatiently for Matt to finish talking to one of the regulars. He wanted to drag him on to the dance floor. He wanted to move and slide and grind against him. He wanted so much. He wanted Matt. Was it so wrong for him to want Matt to want him too? Him. Joshua. The man who was forever trapped inside Paul’s body. Not Paul, who everyone saw. Forever would never be enough, but this moment was all he had—a first and last time to cherish. And he was going to take it.

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**** Matt was trying really hard to focus on what the other man was saying. He was a regular and someone who often brought new people to the club. But he was only really half listening. Most of his thoughts kept winging off to a certain tall, platinum-haired cat shifter hunk who all through the night and most of the day had rocked his world with soft kisses, tender words, explosive hand jobs and one world-class blow job. He was surprised either of them could even walk straight right now, given the workout they’d given each other over the last twenty-four hours. Matt smiled wickedly before he was able to carefully school his features and nod—he hoped appropriately—at whatever the other man had said to him. He’d noticed Paul hadn’t turned up for work yet. Maybe he was going to have to punish the big man. Yum. Matt licked his lips in anticipation. Okay! He was really going to have to stop mooning over the man soon. It was going to get him in trouble sooner rather than later if he didn’t start concentrating. If nothing else the man in front of him was definitely going to get the wrong idea in a minute. Matt could already feel his trousers getting uncomfortably tight. Then the man uppermost in his mind stalked in. Matt seriously thought he was going to have to pick his tongue up off the floor when he first saw Paul. Instead, he deliberately turned his back on the man before he made an even bigger fool out of himself. Paul looked spectacular—like sex on legs in a tight, silky shirt and those sinful black leather trousers. He didn’t care if the man was a jaguar—he was taking Paul down tonight and ripping those clothes off him. He wanted to lick every inch of Paul before he fucked himself blind on his lover’s huge cock. Actually, he loved the idea of Paul being a jaguar. He wondered if Paul would ever actually bite him to try to hold him in place while they fucked—like a wild jaguar would. A shiver of anticipation and desire raced down his spine. Man, I’m sick. Sick or horny? he wondered absently. After a few moments’ consideration, he shrugged. He knew which one he was going to go with and he didn’t think Paul would mind one bit. Eventually, he gave up trying to hold down a conversation while Paul was in the same room. He just couldn’t do it. He excused himself as politely as possible, then had to stifle a laugh as Paul literally dragged him onto the dance floor.

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They didn’t dance. In no way could what they did be called dancing. Paul was fucking him with their clothes still on, in front of the whole club. No pretext or subtlety about it, just down and dirty. And he loved it. He loved that he was driving Paul so insane. That he could get him to lose control enough that he would show such a public display of lust and affection. It was just so out of character, not like the normal stoic man at all. He was usually so quiet, so reserved and in control. It made Matt feel powerful and desirable, and as if he was going to cream his pants at any moment. He responded enthusiastically to everything Paul had to give him as they began to move in perfect synchrony. They pulled each other close, grinding their aching cocks between them. Lowering his head, Paul literally growled before taking Matt’s mouth in a savage kiss. It was wild with pent up lust and passion. It was desperate with restrained longing. Still, Matt wanted more. He humped at the man in time with the pulsing heart of the club—thrusting his pelvis against the tall, gorgeous man in front of him. Finally, the need for air forced him to release Paul’s lips, but he stayed close. Breathing in each breath that Paul let out, taking in his luscious scent every time he inhaled. “Mine.” Paul’s low growl was only just audible above the noise of the club because he said it right into Matt’s ear before giving it a sharp nip with teeth that felt suspiciously long and sharp. It sent a thrill of lust and need straight to Matt’s cock. “Want you. Need you. Have to have you.” With each sentence Paul nipped at his ear, making Matt harder and harder until he didn’t think he could possibly last. Then Paul grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him—laughing like a loon—off the dance floor. They didn’t stop until they were through the door that led to the back-of -house area and hurrying into the tiny, dark storeroom. Bed was good, but storeroom was closer. Desperation overruling all other considerations. He quickly dismissed any thought of how much he had lived to regret fucking Anthony at work. The club wasn’t just where he worked, it was…home. Finally he dared to hope it. To admit it. The club and the pride were home and family to him. For better or for worse he had fallen for it. For them. For Paul. Actually, it felt a little bit kinky risking being caught out by the other members of the pride. The risk of getting caught out only added an extra edge to their lovemaking.

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Suddenly Paul was tugging frantically on his clothes, and he knew exactly how Paul felt. Matt started to work with him—slipping buttons out of holes, sliding zippers and pushing material aside desperately trying to get skin on skin as quickly as possible. “Okay! Who are you and what have you done with Paul?” Matt giggled as he finally managed to open the man’s silk shirt and run his hands reverently over the warm, firm chest beneath. He was kissed hard and urgently, full on the mouth, lust and passion putting a sharp edge on their lovemaking. When they finally pulled away from each other, there was a strange, wild light in Paul’s eyes. “I’m Joshua,” he growled in a deep voice full of passion but edged with a darker, more demanding undertone. Matt looked deep into the golden-brown eyes flecked with green in front of him and there wasn’t a hint of mischief or laughter in them. Paul was deadly serious. A shiver of unease worked its way down Matt’s spine at the intense look the other man was giving him. He wasn’t exactly frightened, but the lightness was gone from Paul’s demeanour and he was watching him so closely. Almost as if Paul was waiting to see what his reaction would be. Testing him. Demanding something from him. “That’s not funny,” Matt said steadily. “I wasn’t joking. Just once I want someone to finally see me. I want someone to be attracted to me. I want someone to know I’m here, to want me.” He felt as if Paul had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over him. Something in his heart curled up and died as he heard the words he had used to describe why he had let Anthony fuck him and humiliate him last night echoed back to him almost word for word. Paul was making fun of him. The beautiful, strong cat he was falling in love with was mocking him. Laughing at him just like Anthony had, only worse. He wasn’t content to humiliate him—he wanted to mess with his head as well. Pushing hard against Paul’s muscular chest, Matt kept shoving until the big brute finally moved back, and he could slip out under his arm. Tears blurring his vision as he rushed for the door—so much so he stumbled slightly as he turned around to confront Paul. “I thought you were different. I thought you… You know what, fuck you! You need help, you freak.” He was in so much pain his words seemed to hiss and spit out of his mouth. Just like a cat. How ironic.

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Paul simply looked at him, his face starting to crumble in a mockery of Matt’s pain and hurt. “Yeah! Well, I thought you were different too. I thought we could trust you.” Matt couldn’t listen to it any more. He turned and ran from the room, wondering as he went how long it would take him to quit. How far would he have to go to escape the nightmare he had fallen into this time?

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Chapter Twelve

Paul ran as fast as he could to the little cubbyhole he stayed in above the club. He couldn’t do what he had to do downstairs where someone could walk in at any moment. He needed privacy to haul his lover over the coals. When he had woken up in the room he had created with Joshua to hear him screaming at Matt, he had been…well, stunned was too mild a term for it. He’d been disorientated at first. The last thing he remembered was stretching out on the bed for a short rest before he had to go down to work. It had been a long, blissful night that had carried over far into the morning and he’d thought he’d catch forty-winks before he was needed downstairs. He’d planned on asking Matt to their room again tonight and figured he’d need to get as much rest as possible. The next thing he’d known, he’d woken to the terrifying sound of shouting, wondering what on earth was going on. Finally, he had felt a lurching sense of nausea as he was shoved unceremoniously back into his body. Now he was good and pissed. He didn’t even know where to begin. Not only had Joshua been yelling at Matt, but he’d taken control of his body without so much as a by-your-leave. He needed to get somewhere where he could have it out with his lover. Somewhere where there weren’t any witnesses. Slamming the door to their apartment, Paul began to pace. There was no way he was going to be able to get calm enough to get back into ‘the room’ like this. He picked up the ugly coffee table that had come with the place and hurled it effortlessly across the room, giving vent to a feral snarl of fury for good measure. “What the hell is going on, Joshua? What the hell were you thinking?” But Joshua refused to answer him. He stayed curled and silent, locked in his mind. “Joshua Wittman! You answer me!” he screamed. Still no reply. Paul forced himself to sit cross-legged on the now bare carpet and took several deep breaths to try to calm down. He needed to get to his lover.

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It took a lot longer than normal, but finally he made it to the normally soothing, bright room. At the moment, it was ominously dark. Angry black clouds threatened the garden and all the birds had fled to their aviary. Thunder rumbled and lightening slashed across the sky outside. With a flick of his hand, Paul shut the doors and cut off the turmoil. Joshua lay curled on his side on the white divan facing away from him, utterly still and quiet. Paul couldn’t even hear any surface thoughts coming from him at the moment. It was as if Joshua was locked down as tight as a drum. “What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Paul demanded angrily. “You put me to sleep? You took over without even telling me? What the hell’s that all about?” The only response was a shrug of Joshua’s shoulders. His lover wouldn’t even turn over to face him, and he didn’t say a word. Growling, Paul began to pace. “What on earth were you yelling at Matt for? Have you got some sort of problem with what’s happening? I thought you liked him. I thought you enjoyed what we did last night and today. Are you jealous? Is that it? You’re jealous of how I feel about him? Of how he feels about me?” Paul stared at his lover’s back—waiting for a word, a shrug, a response, anything. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He snapped. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” Joshua was on his feet—rage and pain contorting his normally handsome features—in a flash. Before he could dodge, or even draw a breath, a tremendous punch of psychic energy sat Paul on his ass several feet away. “There’s nothing fucking wrong with me!” Joshua screamed. “I’m not a freak.” Turning his face up to the ceiling, Joshua let out a howl of pure agony that raised the hairs on Paul’s arms and the back of his neck with its piercing intensity. “He called me a freak!” Joshua keened. “All I wanted was to love him. Just once, and have him love me. Me, Paul. Not you. Me, Joshua. And now he’s gone and I never got to…and I’m going to…and you’ll be…” He was expecting a sob or another ear-splitting scream, or even for Joshua to launch himself into his arms for a hug. Instead, Joshua suddenly froze and went deathly pale. Literally all the colour drained out of his cheeks. It was like a cork had been removed somewhere and his life was rapidly draining away, leaving nothing but a pale shell behind. Then even that started to fade and right before his eyes Paul started to see through his lover’s

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extremities. Hands, arms, feet and legs all began to fade away, until he could clearly see the furniture behind him. Joshua looked terrified. Then slowly, he buckled at the knees—crumbling to the floor. Diving in, Paul scooped him up and cradled him to his chest. As gently as possible he sank down with his lover in his arms. “Joshua! Joshua, what’s happening? What’s wrong?” But Joshua couldn’t seem to get his breath. He panted shallowly between gasps for air. Then he looked up—eyes suddenly less terrified and more sad and resigned. “Love you,” he panted. “Love you so much. Always. You…you have to go…now, Paul.” “No, Joshua. Don’t. I won’t leave you,” he wailed desperately, but he could already feel Joshua forcing him out of ‘the room’. Joshua always had been the stronger one of the two of them mentally, and now he was pushing him away. “Better, Paul… Don’t want you…to see…this. Go.” Feeling one last, tremendous push, Paul found himself back in the tiny room above the club. It was almost like being born again, and just like then, Paul screamed for Joshua.

**** Matt stuffed the last of his gear into a pack and looked around his little room. It was the same room Paul had brought him to when he had rescued him from the gang. The guest room above the club. But somehow it had become his room. It wasn’t much more than the place he’d had with Mrs Rossini, but…it had felt more like home than anywhere else he could ever remember living. So much for knowing the score. “Just goes to show you how truly bad I am at this intuition stuff,” Matt grumbled quietly to himself. Paul had been playing with him. Maybe they all had. Cats playing with a very plain, dull little mouse. Taking one last look around, Matt headed down the hall, trying to slip out the back before anyone could stop him. Yes, it was cowardly, but who was he to break a pattern when it was forming? Mocking himself derisively, Matt began to tick off his mental check-list. Find

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asshole, check. Get fucked over by said asshole, check. Run out the door, check again. It was becoming his modus operandi it seemed. What a pity they said three times was the charm. Two seemed more than enough to him. From now on, he was just going to have to avoid all gorgeous gay men. Or bisexual men. Maybe men altogether. It was as simple as that. Matt sighed as he thought about having to call Nate tomorrow and formally quit. He needed to get out, but he knew it would hurt not being able to get a reference. Leaving without notice wasn’t exactly going to endear him to anyone, though. Especially not Nate. The man had all but kissed his feet when he said he would take over the day-to-day management of the club and the bookkeeping. And he’d have to call him back from the trip he had taken with Devon. They’d only left this morning. He could just imagine what Nate would have to say in a reference after that. No, it was better simply to cut his losses and write the whole experience off. He wouldn’t say anything to anyone about them being cat shifters, of course. He didn’t want to see any of them hurt. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t mind seeing one particular cat shifter hurt just a bit, but he still wouldn’t want to see Paul in a cage or worse. Besides, as he had pointed out many times before, who would believe him anyway? They’d end up locking him away in the loony bin. Come to think of it, maybe it’d be a nice break. Matt snorted at the thought—he could just imagine the sort of quality mental institution he’d luck into. Getting closer to Paul’s room, Matt steeled himself—determined not to stop, or pause, or even look at the door. That all changed the second he heard an agonised cry from inside. “Joshua!” he heard Paul scream. Matt didn’t even stop to think. He didn’t think about his heartache, or the ugly scene the two of them had shared downstairs, or even that Paul was calling out the very name that had turned all his dreams to nightmares. He rushed to the door, trying to get to Paul as quickly as possible. When it wouldn’t open, Matt shoulder-charged the door—ignoring the flare of pain that rushed down his arm and shot into his right side. He had to get to Paul. To the man he had fallen in love with against all better judgement and was still in love with despite everything that had happened tonight.

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Perhaps it was the adrenaline, perhaps it was just a flimsy door, but it didn’t seem to take much before he found himself stumbling into Paul’s apartment. As he ran forward the door bounced back off the wall and slammed closed behind him, but he didn’t pay it any mind. If they needed more help he would call someone. Right now all he could focus on was getting to Paul. “Paul!” he called anxiously. Rushing through the short entryway, he hurried on into the living room. And that’s where he found him—curled up and sobbing brokenly on the floor. Kneeling down, Matt ran his hands over every inch of Paul’s body he could get to, trying to see if he was hurt anywhere. There was no blood that he could find—which was good because he’d never been very good with blood. He called Paul’s name again, but the man was too distraught to respond. Not knowing what else to do, he put his arm around the big man as best he could and began to rock and croon softly to him, trying to coax him into speaking, to tell him what was the matter. “Paul, what is it? What’s wrong? Talk to me. Please, sweetheart.” Finally, Paul lifted his tear streaked face up to look at him. It was a study of misery and devastation. What on earth was the matter? Matt wondered in shock and growing fear. “He’s dying,” Paul croaked out. “Matt, he’s dying and I can’t do anything to save him.” With that Paul lunged forward. Burying his head in Matt’s lap, Paul began to weep uncontrollably, his big shoulders shaking with his sobs as he clung frantically to Matt’s waist. Matt could feel his shirt and trousers getting wet with tears and his heart aching for the man in his arms. It was just…all so bewildering. Paul was obviously deeply distressed. He couldn’t turn away from him—not like this. But he had no idea what was going on, or how to make it better. “Paul, please talk to me, honey. Who’s dying? I don’t understand, baby,” he whispered as he rocked the man and tried to calm him, running his fingers through the short strands of his spiky blond hair. “I don’t want to be alone,” Paul sobbed. “I know,” Matt murmured back. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

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“You don’t understand,” Paul moaned. “He’s mine…I love him…and no one even knows…and he’s dying. Even you couldn’t accept us. Not even you.” Matt stiffened. Was Paul talking about another lover? But then that didn’t make sense either. Paul had said something about him not accepting them. He’d never met anyone he’d thought was Paul’s lover…so how could he…? Matt began to rock Paul again, more confused than ever, but not knowing what else to do. “Joshua, please let me in. Let me go with you,” Paul suddenly called out to the empty room. Something seriously screwy was going on here, Matt realised. Then again, less than a month ago he had discovered men who could turn into cats. At which point a whole boatload of possibilities opened up. Only one thing was certain for Matt—he wanted to help, to do something. He couldn’t abandon Paul like this, no matter what was going on, or what had transpired between them earlier. It just wasn’t in him to walk away like that. But to do anything, he needed to understand what was going on. And to do that, he realised he probably needed to keep an open mind. Matt looked around—trying to find something solid, something real and concrete to hang on to as he walked the tightrope of sanity with Paul and tried to figure out what was going on. The room was beyond austere. In the corner, there were the battered remains of a rather ugly looking coffee table. Apart from that, a lounge, a few scattered books and a small TV, there was literally nothing else in the room. Then he spotted the crumbled piece of paper beside them. Glancing over, he saw it was a carefully penned note. He knew it wasn’t Paul’s handwriting—he had seen that often enough at the club to know. It was more ornate and flowing, but still clear enough to read even from where he sat. And it was obvious Paul had been reading it recently—tears marked the page and the corners were curled with handling. Glancing down, Matt saw Paul was still burrowed into him and didn’t look like moving any time soon. He was completely non-responsive apart from his continued trembling and the occasional sob. Matt thought it was a pretty safe bet the note had something to do with Paul’s emotional state. Deciding he couldn’t help if he didn’t know what the hell was going on, Matt stretched out and picked up the piece of paper to take a closer look.

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My Dearest Paul, I loved you before we were born. Loving friend, devoted lover. You were the sun that rose on my day, and the moon that set on my night. We made the world, you and I. We owned it, this paradise for two. I was never a prisoner, because I never wanted to be anywhere else but with you. There is no end, because I will always be with you. In your heart, As you are in mine. Joshua. Matt felt like his own heart was breaking. He didn’t understand. Who was Joshua? As far as he knew there was no one in the pride by that name. Was this an old boyfriend who Paul had lost at some point? Was his beautiful lover losing touch with reality—slipping back into the past perhaps and coming unhinged with loss and grief all over again for this Joshua? Was it his fault? Had he opened old wounds somehow with last night and this morning? Matt could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, threatening to run down his cheeks. It was a beautiful and haunting letter regardless—so sad, and yet so full of love and passion. He couldn’t say he was any less confused, but he was certainly more determined than ever to help this man. “Joshua was your…friend?” Matt asked, slowly feeling his way forward. Paul nodded without lifting his head from his lap. “But you said you were Joshua.” This time Paul shook his head, still buried in his lap and refusing to look up. “Joshua is more than my friend, he’s…my lover. But he wasn’t born…” Paul hesitated, as if he was afraid to go on—afraid of saying something and not being believed, perhaps—or worse, being dismissed as a liar or crazy. “He wasn’t born with a body. He’s just always shared mine. The two of us have always lived together. And I love him,” Paul finished defiantly. As suddenly as it had come, his composure deserted him. “I love him, Matt. I was holding him, and then he forced me out. I just want to hold him. If this is the…if this is the

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end, I want to hold him and be with him until the last. But he locked me out. He won’t let me in. He’s trying to protect me but…” Honestly, Matt didn’t know what to believe. Paul was becoming incoherent with grief again. And that’s exactly what it looked like to him—the all consuming grief of someone losing a loved one. For Paul’s sake, at least for the moment, he had to assume it was. If it was a snow job it was the best and craziest one he had ever heard of. His mind reeling, Matt tried to remain calm and logical. Maybe Paul was sick. Maybe he was crazy. But maybe he was telling the truth, and maybe he needed his help. At the very least he needed his love and support, and that meant his belief in him as well. “Shh. I’m here, baby. Everything will be all right,” Matt whispered as he tried to work out what to do next. Whatever was needed, he would get for him. For them. Somehow he could, he would help the trembling man still clinging to him desperately. Suddenly, Paul was sitting up and kissing him—wet, anguished, needy kisses that went on and on. Between each open-mouthed kiss, he sobbed. “Don’t leave me too.”—kiss—“Only wanted to love you.”—kiss—“So sorry.”—kiss—“He didn’t mean to hurt you.”—kiss—“We love you!”—kiss—“Oh! Please love me. Love us!” It was too much. Matt could feel the pain radiating off Paul like heat off a hot summer road. If all he could give his distressed lover was himself—skin to skin, physical comfort to mask the mental anguish he was so obviously in—then he would give it with all his heart. He kissed Paul back fervently, trying to overwhelm the man with lust and passion and love. He stripped away their shirts. First Paul’s tight black silk, then his own neat pinstripe. Finally, bare-chested, he held Paul close—firm, defined pectoral muscles moving over his own. Hard flat bellies meeting and sliding. Paul went wild with the sudden acceptance, the unspoken offering to touch and possess. He jerked roughly at their trousers, ripping Matt’s dress slacks nearly in two with his need to get them both naked and joined together. His own trousers clung too tightly for him to remove quickly, and Matt watched in awe as Paul simply shoved them down far enough to free his rigid cock. Completely naked now, Matt wrapped his legs around Paul’s waist, feeling the soft, black leather brush against his inner thighs. He offered himself up shamelessly, and the answering, feral snarl was music to his ears.

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It was just as well he had thought to prepare himself before going to work tonight. His hole was already lubed up and stretched because he had fully intended to give himself to Paul sometime this evening. Until the horrible incident in the store room, he had made the decision to take a leap of faith and dive headlong into falling in love with Paul. That—for him at least—meant giving himself completely to the other man physically. He refused to think about the storeroom now, pushing the dark moment from his mind. This was all that mattered, this precious time between them. This joining and giving to each other.This comforting and connecting. Paul slid home in one steady push. Paul’s balls slapped gently against his ass as they began to rock together and he cried out in pleasure at the sudden feeling of fullness—so full, so right. Matt felt complete and whole for the first time in his life. If he could stay like this forever, he would. Of course they might get some pretty funny looks from the others, he acknowledged, but it would be worth it. He knew neither of them was going to last very long. His balls were tightening and drawing up in anticipation of release already. Paul’s urgent grunts were all he needed to know he was riding the edge too. That was okay. This was about comfort and relief and lust and desperate need. “Do it, Paul. Fill me up. Make me come and fill me up with your spunk,” he whispered huskily to reassure his fragile lover this was exactly what he wanted too. He threw his head back as Paul cried out. It was the screaming cry of a jaguar that erupted from Paul’s throat, and it filled the room. His heart pounded in anticipation, but no fear mixed with it at all. It was all about need and want and desire and now. Then long canines flashed and struck deep into his flesh, sinking into the base of his neck. Matt let out a scream of his own and released himself to the pleasure of every grunting thrust. Higher and higher they climbed together, until with one last, tremendous shove, they climaxed together in a burst of light and sound. And then his vision went completely white.

**** For a moment, Matt thought he might have gone blind. Then slowly he began to pick out details. He found himself lying on the floor in the middle of a white room. The carpet underneath him was warm and soft. In front of him was a large stretch of glass. Gradually he

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discerned doors and windows that overlooked a shadowy garden. It was dark outside, and he could see that a storm wreaked havoc, as the wind lashed at the glass and bullets of rain hammered at the panes. Slowly, Matt rolled over and spotted Paul lying naked on the rug beside him. Next to him, on a long, white couch, was another, much smaller man, curled up cat-like, fast asleep. Reaching out, he gently touched Paul’s shoulder. Gloriously naked, Paul rolled over and moved to snuggle in closer to him. Matt couldn’t help but lick his lips in appreciation. If he wasn’t so confused about where he was and what on earth had just happened, and if he wasn’t still recovering from the most explosive orgasm of his life, he might have been tempted to tackle the man back onto the rug and have his wicked way with him. “Paul,” the man on the couch whispered groggily. Instantly, Paul’s eyes flew open in surprise. “Joshua,” Paul cried as he scrambled to his knees beside what was obviously his lover. Paul was quick to place a restraining hand, stopping the man as he struggled to sit up. “No. Just…just lie still, Joshua. How are you feeling?” Paul touched his lover, as if he wanted to make sure he was real and solid. Matt studied the two of them together. They had the same platinum blond hair but that was where the similarities ended. Their eyes were different colours—Paul’s green with brown, Joshua’s brown with green. Their builds, too, were very different—Paul being broad and heavily muscled, while Joshua was slim and sleek. But as he watched the pair together, Matt couldn’t shake the feeling he knew them both. Intimately. “It’s all right, Paul,” he heard Joshua reassure. “I’m okay. I felt you. I felt you both. I was almost gone and I felt your pleasure, and suddenly I was jerked back.” Joshua was staring up at Paul in wonder and awe. “Paul, I felt him. His psychic energy funnelled right into me when you climaxed together. It saved me. You saved me. Both of you.” Paul simply stared in disbelief for a moment, before he whooped with joy and gathered Joshua up in his arms to dance around the room with him. He was full of such obvious relief and overwhelming joy it was almost blinding to watch. “Paul!” Joshua laughed, thumping his lover’s arm playfully. “Put me down, you big oaf.” Slowly, Paul let Joshua slide down his body and steadied him on his feet in front of him. The long, loving look that passed between them left Matt in no doubt as to the nature of

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their relationship. He watched Paul dip his head and take Joshua’s mouth in a beautifully tender kiss. For long moments, he watched the pair loving on each other. He felt his own desire and arousal growing. Pulling himself back, Matt fought the almost overwhelming urge to step up and join them. He didn’t want to interrupt their special moment together, but he longed to be part of it. Joshua suddenly looked over at him—piercing brown-green eyes studied him with tears trembling on his lower lids. Looking into Joshua’s eyes only intensified his feeling of familiarity. He did know this man. He’d seen these very same eyes—Joshua’s eyes, not Paul’s—staring down at him as they danced in the club, as they touched and made out in the dim— Suddenly, Matt felt the blood drain from his head. What had he almost done? He’d called Joshua a freak in the storeroom. He’d almost killed him. No wonder Joshua was almost crying when he looked at him. Joshua must hate him. They both must. “Oh, no!” Joshua cried out and stumbled towards him, still obviously weak and far from the okay he professed to be to Paul. Matt caught him in his arms and pulled him in close. They were much the same size and build, though Joshua was incredibly thin and needed building up. Matt took the opportunity to hold the other man close for a moment in case he was never given the chance again. “I don’t hate you, Matt. It was my fault. I didn’t tell you right. You couldn’t have been expected to know. And I hurt you.” Tears escaped and ran down Joshua’s hollow cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I…I know you hardly know me, but…I love you.” Joshua looked at him with such open longing. Matt’s heart, never hardened against either Paul or Joshua in the first place, melted for the uncertain man in his arms. “I know you, Joshua. I see you,” Matt replied. He wished he had known to say those words in the storeroom. He only hoped Joshua would accept them now. “Wait!” He suddenly realised Joshua had addressed his biggest fears before he had ever actually said anything out loud. “Can you…?”

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“Paul bit you while you were…” Joshua actually blushed, and it was the most gorgeous thing Matt had ever seen. “He mated you. We’re mates now. Connected. I think that’s how I managed to use your psychic energy.” “But I’ve never had a psychic bone in my body. I haven’t even got any sense of direction, never mind any sixth sense or intuition,” Matt denied emphatically. “Oh! You’ve got them. They’re just locked up inside you. Actually, they’re incredibly strong from what I can feel. When you orgasmed you released them. Because you were connected to Paul, I was able to use them to keep myself alive.” Joshua squeezed him tight for a moment. “Thank you so much, Matt.” “We owe you so much,” Paul chimed in, coming over to wrap his arms around them both. Matt was at a complete loss for words. He just stood there soaking up the feeling of having the other two men hold him while he tried to regain his sense of equilibrium. Tried to come to terms with everything that had happened, everything he had heard and learnt in the last hour. “So, let me get this right,” he said slowly, after long minutes simply enjoying being wrapped up in Joshua and Paul’s arms. “You survived and I assume will continue to survive, Joshua, if Paul and I keep fucking like bunnies and orgasm together while Paul’s inside me.” Joshua began to blush again. Paul, on the other hand, had the most wicked, selfsatisfied grin on his face. Matt couldn’t help but to burst out laughing. “Well, actually I’m not too sure, but I think it would work if you were in him as well or if we…” Joshua didn’t finish, but he suddenly wouldn’t look up at them and Matt could feel how afraid the other man was of being rejected. He wondered if this whole mating bond thing went both ways. Reaching out, Matt cupped Joshua’s smooth, pale cheek. His lover trembled and looked at him with a mixture of hope and trepidation. With a reassuring smile, Matt leaned in and sealed their lips together. Eyes drifted closed and for a few moments they shared a sweet, undemanding kiss. “I think I’d like that,” Matt whispered in a low, husky tone.

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Joshua looked dazed, as if he couldn’t take in what was being said, what was being offered. And perhaps he couldn’t—after all, this was a man who, from all accounts, probably hadn’t ever been intimate with anyone but Paul. From what Matt had read in his love letter, and could sense from the man himself, Joshua hadn’t wanted to be with anyone but Paul. Until now, that is, because he could definitely feel the hard physical evidence of Joshua’s desire and arousal pressing into his own rapidly filling cock. “Want you, Joshua,” Matt breathed as he licked at Joshua’s lips. Conscious of the man’s physical limitations at the moment, Matt gently pushed against Joshua’s shoulder, guiding him back to the couch behind them. “Lie down. Let me ride your cock.” Joshua moaned in reply. Matt swooped in for another, more passionate kiss—thrusting his tongue into the other man’s mouth as he straddled him and began grinding against his cock invitingly. Moans and groans of mounting excitement filled the air. Matt jumped and almost fell off Joshua’s lap when he felt two large hands caress over his lower back and begin working his ass. He had been so lost in Joshua he had almost forgotten about Paul as he stood beside them. “Lift up,” Paul rumbled, his voice deep and dark with lust. Matt looked over his shoulder to see eyes filled with warmth and love. “Take him now, Matt. He needs to be inside you. Enough teasing.” He hadn’t been teasing—he had every intention of taking Joshua’s long cock up his ass. Obediently, Matt rose up onto his knees and with Paul’s help lowered slowly onto Joshua’s throbbing erection. It felt so hot and so right he closed his eyes so he could savour every second of the sensations pulsing through his body. He worked himself up and down Joshua’s shaft, rising and falling to meet Joshua’s instinctive thrusts up into him. Suddenly, his rhythm faltered as he felt a hot, wet mouth envelope his straining cock. He cried out in shock and pleasure. Looking down his glistening body, now slick with sweat, he saw Paul, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked on his cock, his head moving up and down, pleasuring him as he in turn pleasured Joshua. All at once, it was too much to take. He howled his release, just as he felt Joshua’s cock move over his prostate and begin to pulse rhythmically in release as well. He watched Paul swallow down all his hot cum. When that was done, Paul begin licking at his shaft and balls,

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almost as if he couldn’t get enough. Slowly coming down from his climax, Matt trembled above the two lovers. Finally, Paul pulled away and took him into his arms, lifting him effortlessly off Joshua and gently laying him down to one side of him. Paul pulled a throw rug over them and settled down on the rug to rest his head on Matt’s weary shoulder. Matt drifted off to sleep completely sated and content as he felt Joshua snuggle into him on his other side.

**** Riven sat back and scowled out of the window. He’d been relegated to the antechamber of his Master’s sanctuary while Grand-Master Vladimir ‘dealt’ with one of his numerous shifter slaves. The past hour had been punctuated by the muffled sounds of a beating and occasional screams of agony when the man could no longer hold in the pain. Only long years of practice and discipline let Riven fade away until he could hardly hear the terrible noises. Of course, the small lull in his usually hectic day was enough to send his mind racing. He’d thought he would have seen some reaction from the pride by now one way or another. Perhaps he’d been too subtle. Planting the seeds of mistrust with the human had been a risk certainly, but he hadn’t wanted to be too heavy handed. He’d hoped by introducing a little friction, he’d be able to tell how things lay within the pride, maybe guess what Talan was up to. He hadn’t really thought he’d get a ripple all the way back to GrandMaster Vladimir, but he had hoped to see something. He just didn’t want to get caught in the middle of that something. It was a fine balancing act. Perhaps he had picked the wrong target. Maybe he should go back. Do a little more reconnaissance work. See if he could work out for himself who Vladimir’s spy was and what connection he had to Talan’s man, if any. It was risky, but worth it if he managed to pull the whole mess down on Talan somehow. “Riven!” Grand-Master Vladimir suddenly bellowed. Riven shot to his feet, fear and shock battering him as he rushed to answer his Master’s call. “Riven! Where is my son? Where is Talan?”

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Epilogue

Matt was going home at last. It had been a long night. Made all the longer by the seductive whispering promise of a pair of gorgeous cat shifters for a romantic evening when he was finally able to get away. It was their official one-month anniversary of being together and his boys had something special planned for when he got home. They were so sweet and soppy. And Matt loved every minute of it, he thought with a silly smile on his face. It certainly hadn’t been easy. No matter how hard or how often they had tried, he had never been able to get back into Paul and Joshua’s ‘room’ again. He and Joshua still made love—either with Joshua taking control of Paul’s body or with him being able to sense Joshua just below the surface, or even occasionally breaking through when he and Paul made love. But it wasn’t the same. Joshua theorised it had something to do with the fact there was no longer a build-up of psychic energy inside him. They released it often and enthusiastically with their frequent lovemaking now. And none of them were willing to give that up, especially since it kept Joshua alive. There was absolutely no way he and Paul were going to starve their lover. It just wasn’t going to happen. No matter how much he longed to be with Joshua in the physical world. He had to admit, he did long to be able to touch and caress Joshua in person again, so to speak. He craved the three of them being able to be together properly. But if this was all they ever had together it would be enough. He was just damn grateful for what he had with these two incredible men. Joshua and Paul were the best thing that had ever happened to him. Bar none. Pushing the door open carefully, Matt peeked around the corner, careful to keep his body blocking the doorway in case his surprise involved a beautiful naked jaguar shifter welcoming him home. Paul and Joshua certainly had no problem being naked in front of others, but Matt found he wasn’t so keen on sharing. It tickled the other two no end when he

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tried to shield their body from the others. But damn it, they were his, and he discovered his inner growly hell cat whenever anyone looked too long. Unfortunately, there was no such luck on the naked shifter front. Oh, well! He’d have to see what he could do about that, he grinned wickedly to himself. Closing the door behind him and stepping into the living room, he stopped short in amazement. The entire room was glowing with dozens of candles. The three of them had spent a great deal of time redecorating the little space until it was just right for them. Now on every surface tiny flickering flames danced in frosted votive candle holders. The smell of warm wax and roses filled the air, and all across the floor there were dark red rose petals scattered in a trail that lead directly to their bedroom door. Matt moved reverently through the room, taking in the little details Joshua and Paul seemed to have worked so hard on. The room was spotless. Their new soft brown leather sofa glowed with polish. The beautiful marble end table held chocolate dipped strawberries and champagne in a silver ice bucket. A stunning cut crystal vase of red roses set off the whole arrangement. The only thing missing was Paul and Joshua. Peeking around the door of their bedroom he saw more of the same romantic detail. Fresh sheets of chocolate brown, accented with deep burgundy red pillows and covers, were turned down ready for use. And there, in the very centre of the room was the one thing that made it all so special—Paul in all his naked glory, his beautiful features glowing with soft candle light and love. Matt felt his heart miss a beat then gallop on with anticipation and excitement. Paul’s glorious thick cock jumped at the sight of him and a trickle of precum ran down his hard shaft. It seemed he wasn’t the only one excited by the fact he was home. Matt was just about to tell the man how gorgeous he was, when he caught a slight movement at Paul’s shoulder. He could only stare in amazement as Joshua stepped out from behind him—looked slightly translucent, but still very much the man he remembered, loved and desired. “Joshua,” Matt breathed in wonder. Slowly, Joshua approached him and slid into his arms, as solid and real as he could remember him from a month ago.

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“How?” was all Matt could get out. His mind stumbled over itself as it tried in vain to catch up. “You couldn’t get to me, so I had to come to you,” Joshua explained simply. “I thought I could do it, but I wasn’t sure. I just had to wait to build up enough of your psychic energy to try it. I didn’t want to get either of your hopes up in case it didn’t work out, but I was able to show Paul yesterday and we decided it would be the perfect gift to give you for our anniversary.” “Oh!” Matt cried, feeling a tear slip down one cheek. No one had ever given him anything as precious as this. Joshua didn’t look completely solid, more like a ghost or mirage, but he felt warm and whole and absolutely perfect in his arms. It was more than any of them had dared to hope for. “I can’t hold it for long. So far only an hour or so at a time, then I have to go and rest. But that’s more than enough time for what I have in mind,” Joshua leered. Matt laughed and tightened his arms around his lover. Paul joined them and Matt snuggled between them contentedly. “Love you, Joshua.” He kissed Joshua’s slightly see-through lips. Then, turning his head, he kissed Paul. “Love you, Paul.” Everything was wonderful with the world and only promised to get better. Joshua might not ever be able to lead a completely independent life, but then, as he had once written, he didn’t want to be anywhere else. And now, neither did Matt. He was home.

About the Author Jade Archer was born in 2010 after a prolonged pregnancy and labour of over 34 years! I've decided she is about 24, enjoys long walks in the country because she does not have five kids and a husband to care for, eats as much chocolate as she wants because she never has to worry about putting on weight (must be all those long walks!) and can often be found planning her next whirlwind world tour or endlessly typing away (without any interruptions) on another hot and steamy erotic romance. It might be space pirates; it might be shifters or a lonely vampire with a hunger for the girl next door, one thing is for sure, she loves variety and cannot wait to meet the next characters destined to fall in love. Email: [email protected] Jade Archer loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

Also by Jade Archer Nu Hayven Chronicles: Treacherous Sun Sandpipers: Sandpipers’ Secrets Portals: Devon’s Revenge Portals: Ethan’s Freedom Contact: Where To Find Harte Contact: Why Jay Ran Away Contact: How to Steal Blade Contact: What to do With Lore

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