To Catch A Croc (5 page)

“You’re bleeding. What happened?” Denton asked. He didn’t even try to appear sympathetic. He just wanted the facts so he could decide what to do next.

“I got in a fight with the wrong shifter,” Marty grimaced as he wiggled into a different position. The quick inhale of breath had Denton suspecting Marty felt pretty much like Denton did last night.

“Who?” Denton knew Marty’s answer before he spoke.

“Well, croc, I reckon they’re friends of yours. They were crocs and all.” Marty raised his eyebrows as if he expected Denton to break down with a confession.

“Fucking salties!” Denton snarled. “Do you know where they went?”

Marty shook his head. “Not for sure. I heard them talking about storing stuff at the docks, but you didn’t hear it from me. I don’t want to get involved in their shit.”

Denton didn’t point out the obvious. If the salties were attacking him, Marty was already involved.

“They’re trying to get me to leave town,” Denton confessed.

“Crap!” Marty paled. “Don’t take Eaton.”

If the hawk’s voice had been more demanding and not so broken, Denton might have been able to steel his heart against the weird surge of compassion that struck him.

“Why haven’t they taken you to see a doctor?” Denton nodded toward the rest of the useless gang.

“Because I told them not to. I will heal—eventually.” Marty proclaimed.

“Why don’t you then?” The answer came to Denton even as he asked the question. “They broke your arm, didn’t they?”

The only injury a flying shifter couldn’t easily recover from was the arm. Transforming from a solid human arm to hollow bird bones could be catastrophic if the bones weren’t in good condition.

“Yeah,” Marty looked away, apparently finding the fuzzy television in the corner worthy of renewed interest.

Denton ground his teeth together. “Tell you what. You tell me where you think the salties are based, and I’ll let Eaton help heal you.”

If Eaton truly was Marty’s mate, being near him would speed the healing process. Even as the thought passed through his head, he knew what his croc had been trying to tell him. Isaac belonged to him. They were mates.

“Really? It’s not a trick?” The hope in Marty’s face almost made Denton sorry for being a bastard.

“As much as I’d prefer to keep you two apart, I need to find the salties more. Those bastards are setting up base here for something and terrorizing everyone,” Denton explained. “Tell me where they are.”

Not stopping the salties in whatever crooked business they were setting up would only make things worse in the long run. In Australia, the salties cornered the market on drugs and prostitution. Denton’s biggest fear was that they were spreading their territory to the US and starting a similar operation in Seattle. He wouldn’t tolerate those bastards in his territory. He desperately wished he had Carey to watch his back.

“I’d answer the man,” a cold voice spoke behind Denton. Most men would shiver at the sound of Aden Gale behind them. For Denton, it was better than a warm hug. Carey’s father, who Denton had long ago claimed as his own, had never let Denton down a day in his life. Although some might question the man’s mental stability, his loyalty was unwavering.

“Afternoon, Dad,” Denton said.

A large hand clamped down on his shoulder, a reassuring sign of support. “Did you forget what I taught you about back up?” The question might be casual but the heavy weight of disapproval filled every syllable.

“Sorry, sir.” Denton didn’t offer any excuses. He knew he’d made a tactical mistake. The only saving grace was he didn’t think the hawks would turn on him. They might not like him much, but Marty wanted into Eaton’s pants bad enough not to hurt Denton. Eaton might be cerebral and lost in his own world most of the time but he was fiercely devoted to his friends.

Marty paled.

Denton didn’t know if it was from blood loss or the sight of Aden but the hawk shifter didn’t look so good.

“Why don’t we get him to the house and you can question him in private,” Aden suggested.

A quick glance around the room proved everyone was pointedly not looking in their direction. Denton was more than a little surprised that the other hawks weren’t supporting their leader, but none of them even glanced Marty’s way.

“Okay,” Denton nodded his head toward the door. “Come with us.”

Marty didn’t argue. He moved slowly, but nothing in his walk showed any damage to his legs that would hold back his mobility.

Denton cast another glance around the room, surprised at the lack of resistance. Last time he’d seen the pack, they’d been tighter than a virgin’s vagina. Something had changed.

The three of them returned silently to Denton’s Jeep.

“I left you a present under your seat,” Aden said. He slapped a hand on Denton’s back. “I’ll catch up with you later. If you have any problems, you know how to get hold of me.”

“Thanks,” Denton said.

“You know I look out for my boys.” Aden stated it as a fact—of course, he’d bend over backward to help out when Denton needed it.

Denton smiled as he climbed into the Jeep. He reached beneath his seat as Marty clambered inside. A box of plastic explosives slid out from where it had been stashed.

“What the fuck is that?” Marty asked, his jaw dropping open.

“I believe that is my backup,” Denton said, pushing the box back where he found it. “Ready?”

Marty nodded. His mouth tightened and turned white around the edges. “Yeah, get me to Eaton and I’ll be fine. I’m not going to say a word until I see him.”

Denton was beginning to doubt that Marty would tell him anything but calling him a liar probably wasn’t the best way to get assistance. Besides, it wasn’t like Eaton wouldn’t hear about it if Denton left Marty bleeding and injured in the bar—the hawk shifter would probably tattle on Denton himself.

They traveled home in silence, neither man having anything to say to the other.

As they approached the mansion, an eagle soared overhead. Denton laughed when Eaton buzzed the Jeep. A wave of envy filled Denton. He didn’t want to be an eagle, but the truth was Eaton was the only shifter in the house who could travel freely in his other form without anyone questioning him. A crocodile would entail a call to animal services, as would a free ranging bear.

A golden eagle, however, only had to worry about being filmed by his legions of nature photography fans.

“He’s so fucking beautiful.” The awe in Marty’s voice jerked Denton’s attention back to the hawk shifter.

“Yeah, he’s a pretty bird,” Denton agreed.

“He’s beautiful anytime,” Marty corrected, his eyes never leaving the sight of Eaton soaring overhead.

Denton wondered if maybe he’d miscalculated Marty’s affection for the eagle shifter. The tone of wonder he heard didn’t sound like a guy just trying to get into a pretty boy’s pants.

“He’s probably having problems with his dissertation,” Denton mused. Whenever Eaton became frustrated, he took to the sky. He claimed nothing cleared his head like catching a breeze.

“I bet he’ll figure it out. He’s brilliant.” Again the admiration coming from the hawk leader distracted Denton.

Deciding to ignore it for now, he pressed the button and opened the gates.

“Fancy,” Marty said.

“It’s home.” Denton knew they lived better than they should. Carey’s grandmother had left them the home in her will. Well, she’d left it to Carey, and he’d split it between the four of them because he said it was their home and not just his. Denton’s life might have had a rocky start, but he’d landed under a lucky star when Carey dragged him home.

Denton loved the old mansion. Stress dropped off his shoulders whenever he crossed the threshold.

Parking the Jeep in front of the house, he jumped out, leaving Marty to follow behind. He didn’t bother offering a helping hand. He knew it wouldn’t be accepted.

Eaton whipped the front door open as they reached the top step. He was shirtless, barefoot and with the top of his jeans unsnapped—it didn’t take a genius to figure out he’d rushed to dress after he shifted.

“Marty? What are you doing here?” Eaton’s eager gaze ate the hawk shifter up as if Marty were his favorite brand of candy and Eaton was on the third day of a new diet.

“He’s hurt,” Denton said before Marty could make up a bullshit excuse for being on their doorstep. “The salties got hold of him.”

“What salties?” Eaton asked. A scowl crossed his handsome face as Denton realized no one had briefed Eaton of this new predicament, least of all him.

“I’ll tell you once we get Marty settled. Maybe you can do some of your healing on him?”

On top of the possible mate healing, Eaton controlled a small bit of magic—all eagles did. He rarely used it because when he did it took most of his energy. Denton knew Eaton would expend it on Marty. He could tell from the softening of Eaton’s expression that he would do anything he could to help the hawk shifter.

They hurried Marty into the downstairs bathroom where Denton then left the pair. “I’ll be in the dining room when you’re ready to talk.”

He heard Eaton tell Marty to remove his shirt as he left. Denton didn’t want to be a third wheel, and frankly, the thought of watching Eaton drool over Marty turned his stomach a bit. He loved Eaton like a brother and no one wanted to see their brother’s crush naked.

Denton grabbed a platter of food out of the fridge. Harris liked to cook between art projects. There was always something to snack on in the kitchen. Today it was a platter of fruit and meats.

“Hey, Denton.”

Harris entered the kitchen, his face splattered with paint.

“Hey, Harris. We have an afternoon appointment for a landscape job. Are you interested in coming with me?”

“What time?”

He could tell by the faraway look in Harris’s eyes that his friend had already turned his attention back to his art. Denton made a quick decision.

“How about we reschedule? I’m sure we could do next week.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want Mr. Anderson mad at us.” Harris focused briefly on Denton.

“I’ll call him. Okay?” Anderson would understand. He was a huge fan of Harris’s work and had a bit of a crush on the bear shifter.

“Okay, if you think it’ll be all right?” Harris’s anxiety hung in the air like a dangerous viper waiting to strike.

Denton gave into the sudden urge he had to give the bear shifter a hug. When Harris engulfed him in his large arms, Denton gave a contented sigh.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” The edge in Isaac’s voice could’ve cut the air and probably slice Denton in two if given the chance.

“Hi, Isaac,” Harris said in his deep, dream-soaked voice.

Denton firmly believed his bear shifter friend lived on a different plane than the rest of the world. Unless one of them was in trouble, Harris rarely moved his attention from his paints. The angry vibe buzzing around Isaac like an irate queen bee completely escaped Harris’s attention.

Chapter Four

If Isaac didn’t like the big bear shifter so much, he’d let his inner puma out to tear the man apart. How dare he touch Denton?

His Denton.

A low growling noise rolled up his chest, shocking Isaac. His inner puma was trying to come out so it could shred the competition. Isaac took a long deep breath to calm his beast.

“Are you doing yoga?” Harris asked curiously. “I really like yoga.”

“Let me go, Harris,” Denton said quietly.

“Oh, sorry.” Harris opened his arms and let the smaller man loose.

Denton patted Harris on his upper arm. “Thanks, buddy. Why don’t you go back to painting? I’ll let you know if there’s a problem with Anderson.”

“‘kay, Den, if you’re sure.” Harris nodded his big head at Isaac and wandered out of the kitchen.

Isaac didn’t relax until he couldn’t scent the bear shifter any more. Competition for his mate’s affections of any kind right now could push him over the edge. Until he claimed his mate, he wouldn’t be comfortable with him touching other people.

“Why was he hugging you?” Damn, he’d meant to be smoother than that. It wasn’t really his business. He just stopped by because the man he set to watch over Denton called and told him that his lover had wandered into a well-known biker bar and left with another man.

“Because we’re good friends and I wanted a hug,” Denton’s scowl conveyed his annoyance. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to work.”

“Who did you bring home?” Isaac asked. He knew he was blowing the entire thing. His accusing tone probably didn’t help anything, but he couldn’t stop himself. He had planned to approach the entire thing much more smoothly, but finding Denton in another man’s arms and hearing he’d picked up a different man had thrown him off course.

“I brought home a hawk shifter I need to question. How did you know I brought someone home?” Denton narrowed his eyes as he interrogated Isaac in return.

“Because I had you followed, of course. You didn’t think I was going to let you wander around town unprotected when a gang of saltwater shifters were after your ass, did you?” Isaac couldn’t keep the outrage from his voice.

Denton smiled. “You were worried about me?”

“Of course I was. You came to me last night all battered. I won’t take the chance it’ll happen again.” He would do everything in his power to make sure it never happened again. No one would touch his mate and live.

“Why don’t you go to the dining room with the others? Here, carry this. I’ll bring the tea.”

Others?

He quickly accepted the platter Denton handed to him and headed to where he remembered the dining room to be.

His unspoken question was soon answered when he followed Denton into the living room to find Eaton and a man fitting the description he was given of the person Denton brought home. From the way Eaton was fussing over the newcomer, Isaac had nothing to worry about.

A quick sniff told him the stranger was a hawk shifter.

“Marty, this is Isaac Graham, Isaac this is Marty.”

“No last name?” Isaac asked.

Marty shrugged. If he had one, he wasn’t sharing it with the room at large.