The Mates Who Gave Him Salvation [Feral 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour ManLove) (3 page)

“Should I go there?” he asked, feeling stupid and wondering if he’d finally lost his mind.

“Yes,”
came the reply.
“There is a young man. He can help us.”

The words were spoken so weakly and with interruptions, as if they were reaching Roarke through heavy static. Roarke tried to clear his mind, to open himself to whatever this person was trying to convey. “What young man?” he inquired.

This time, the voice that reached him was clearer.
“His name is Quinn. He will be able to explain everything better.”

“Why can’t you?” Roarke bristled. “You drove me crazy with your mysterious calls for help, and now you claim you can’t explain why?”

For a few moments, no reply came. Roarke half expected to be ignored, but then the most unexpected thing happened.
“I’m sorry,”
the voice said, weak and barely audible again.
“I never meant to…”
It trailed off, and spikes of pain pierced Roarke
. “Go to him,”
it insisted.
“I can’t…”

And with that, the strange presence that had invaded Roarke was gone. He should have been relieved, as the agony had vanished as well, but instead, he just felt a strange, bleak sense of abandonment.

He shook himself, casting away the peculiar emotion. Regardless of the oddness of the conversation, Roarke had found out something that could be useful. For whatever reason, the person—the man—who’d spoken to him considered Devon and his mates enemies. That wasn’t very encouraging, and as such, Roarke had to tread lightly. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to visit the Tanners. If nothing else, they could shed some light on what was going on.

Decision made, Roarke started to pack. He had a long journey ahead of him, and he had a feeling that time was running out.

* * * *

Quinn took a deep breath, struggling to focus his mind. The man who wanted his help had not spoken to him today, and it unsettled him. He reached out, attempting to touch that presence always lingering at the back of his mind, but couldn’t find anything.

Frustrated, Quinn opened his eyes. His abilities had never failed him. If anything, they showed up at the worst times, distracting him from his normal day-to-day responsibilities. Well, normal for his family, at least. He highly doubted that young men his age busied themselves with providing information for various paranormals of different species.

But Quinn had long ago gotten used to that. He couldn’t become accustomed to the absence of his unseen friend. As disturbing as it might have seemed, he’d started to enjoy the voice’s company. It felt familiar, like he had known the man behind the presence forever. He suspected that this might indeed be the case, as during his childhood and teenage years, he had sometimes felt as if he were being watched. At first, it had frightened him, but then, he’d grown to ignore it, until finally, it had culminated into the voice which he definitely could not forget about.

But now, he had been abandoned. No presence, no voice, no anything. Quinn threw his hands up, not knowing what to do now. The man had asked for his help, but Quinn still had no idea regarding a solution to this possible situation.

The walls of his quarters seemed to close in on Quinn. He slid onto the floor, burying his face in his hands. “Where are you?” he asked the empty room. “Why did you go?”

He was not surprised when he didn’t receive an answer, but it still hurt. It seemed irrational, as he didn’t even know the identity of this person. It was quite ironic, really. The Tanners who dealt with information couldn’t provide Quinn with any assistance in this matter.

Quinn had briefly considered contacting the spirit wolves. He liked Devon, and the feral had grown close to them lately. Devon had even dropped by recently, leaving a message for a friend of his, Roarke Darbonne. Quinn had not opened it, and he’d at first refused to even receive it, since Roarke never dropped by at the diner owned by Quinn’s family. However, Devon had insisted, and Quinn couldn’t ask for his help now, not after he’d failed in delivering that message.

A knock sounded outside, snapping him out of his depressed musings. Quinn got up, knowing there was only one person who’d come to see him when he was like this. With a sigh, he opened the door and faced his sister. “What is it, Dawn?”

Dawn narrowed her eyes at him in that older-sibling expression Quinn knew so well. “Don’t give me that look, mister,” she said. “You’ve been wallowing in your room for hours now. You can’t do that and expect us not to worry.”

A pang of guilt struck Quinn’s heart. She was right, of course. As a family, they were very close. They had to be, since their involvement with the paranormal world held significant risks that could only be overcome if they stuck together. Since Quinn’s father’s death, his mother had taken up the reins of the business, and while she remained as loving as ever, she was mostly too busy to focus on Quinn and Dawn. Dawn had been the one Quinn had come to as a teen, when he’d been confused about why he didn’t feel nervous and excited around girls like other boys his age. She had explained that it wasn’t bad if he felt that way around people of his same gender instead. She had held him when his first crush had rejected him and had taught him not to confuse pure physical attraction with something more. And yet, he hadn’t shared his current predicament with her. He just didn’t know how to reveal it without making her think he was losing his mind or something along that line.

But Quinn didn’t foresee the situation changing anytime soon. The voice’s absence hurt more than it healed, and Quinn hoped that it would come back. Once it did, Quinn truly needed to come up with a solution. Dawn might be able to help him.

Licking his suddenly dry lips, Quinn gestured for his sister to come in. “I assure you I can explain,” he said. “It’s just…It’s a long story.”

Dawn slipped inside and plopped down on his bed. “Well, you’d better start talking, because we don’t have a lot of time. The next wave of customers is closing in fast.”

Quinn winced. In his need to connect with the mysterious presence, he had left only his sister in charge of the diner. While the actual restaurant was a front for what really happened behind the scenes, humans did frequent it just for the quality of the food. They couldn’t afford to slip up.

Quickly, he began to tell her about the feeling of being watched, of the presence he had feared and then grown to accept, even like. “He wants me to help somehow. It’s not always clear. He seems to be struggling a lot to even reach out to me. He’s in pain, I can tell.”

“And what do you want to do?” Dawn asked, her tone neutral, betraying nothing.

Quinn passed a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure. He’s vanished now. I’ve been trying to find the source of the voice, or the reason why he’s blocked to me.”

Dawn released a sigh. “Honey, little brother, you have to forget about this. It’s entirely possible that someone is indeed trying to get you to help him. But there are a great many people who would ask for that. If you made it your life’s mission to assist them all, you’d never finish.”

“That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try,” Quinn protested.

“Of course not,” Dawn replied. “But, Quinn, you must understand that whenever you act on behalf of someone, you change the way things have been done so far. We don’t get involved, little brother. We never have.”

Quinn knew that. The Tanner family had always kept a delicate balance between what they could and could not do, never taking sides, maintaining themselves as neutral and uninvolved in the disputes of bigger players. But while Quinn admired his ancestors’ courage and wit, he also thought that the knowledge they held meant power. With it, they could do much more for the world. They could help people, solve conflicts. Perhaps he might be arrogant or idealistic in thinking so, but he felt he was destined for more than just passing on pieces of information from one person to another.

“I get that,” he told his sister. “I know it’s risky, but everything we do is a risk. Every day, we chance sharing the wrong thing with the wrong person and pissing off someone who might very well kill us.”

Dawn arched a brow at him. “That’s true, in a way, but we have good standing now, Quinn. The paranormal world knows us. They wouldn’t hurt us, because they need the service we provide.”

“That’s just it,” Quinn argued. “Why should we only provide a service? We can be more than just…mercenaries. We can make a difference.”

Dawn rubbed her eyes tiredly. “Quinn, we’ve talked about this. Our family—”

“I know, I know,” Quinn interrupted her. “So you say. But the fact that things have been done like this until now doesn’t mean it’s right.” He paused, considering what he was about to say. Would Dawn understand? Unlikely. Quinn himself didn’t really comprehend his own emotions. But he couldn’t hide what he knew to be true and real. “I know what you’re thinking, but this is not just about me being idealistic, Dawn. I’ve always wanted this, yes, but with this particular person, something’s different. I feel strange, as if he’s a part of me, as if his pain is my own.” Kneeling in front of his sister, he gripped her hands and squeezed them. “I’m not lying, sis. I have to do this. I just don’t know how.”

Dawn’s eyes widened. She might not have believed him until now, but clearly, the desperation that had slipped into his tone must have convinced her. “Oh, little brother,” she said, hugging him. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

Quinn relaxed in her arms, inhaling her familiar scent. Usually, it provided him great comfort, but now, not even that could cast away the apprehension of the mysterious man’s absence. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

He was so lost in his thoughts that when a knock sounded at the door, he almost yelped. Jumping guiltily away from Dawn, Quinn gave his sister a startled look. She hadn’t been there so long so as to urge their mother to come after them. Something was amiss.

Hastily, Quinn went to open the door. He wasn’t really surprised when he found Shen at the other side. “What is it?” he asked the other man. “Something wrong?”

Shen was the only other waiter they had, and he came in just when there were particular problems, or if the business became too busy and they couldn’t handle it. His real role was, essentially, that of a spy. He kept an eye on what was going on in the paranormal world, what the Tanners couldn’t find out through their contacts, and provided them with the information. Unlike Quinn’s family, though, Shen wasn’t human. Quinn was certain his mother knew the truth of Shen’s identity, but she didn’t share everything with him and Dawn.

However, if she had called Shen in, it must mean that she had guessed something was not right with him. Quinn mentally groaned. He should have known better than to allow his distraction to show. If Dawn had lectured him, his mother would be much worse.

But to his surprise, Shen didn’t tell him he was in trouble or even that his mother wanted to see him. “You have a visitor,” Shen said. “He says it’s very important.”

Quinn blinked in surprise. “Someone asked to see me specifically?”

He had no idea who it could be. Quinn had no real friends from the outside world. He cared about Shen, but they weren’t really close. Other than that, his family were the only ones who ever paid attention to him beyond the service he could provide. Well, them and Devon, but Devon had told him he would be away for a long time.

“Who is it?” Quinn inquired.

“A feral,” Shen replied. “I’ve never seen him here before. He said his name was Roarke.”

Roarke. It was the name of Devon’s friend. It simply couldn’t be a coincidence. Excitement bubbled through Quinn’s belly. For the first time since he’d lost contact with his mysterious unseen friend, he felt a little better. It was quite strange, but Quinn blamed it on finally being able to deliver the message Devon had asked him to hand in.

“Just a sec,” he told Shen. “I have something for him.”

Quinn returned to his room and opened a drawer. He retrieved the sealed envelope holding Devon’s letter and quickly pocketed it. “Looks like duty calls, sis,” he told Dawn.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked as she got up.

Quinn didn’t have an answer to that question, so he didn’t reply. Instead, he offered her a small smile and turned away. Swiftly, before she could ask anything else, he joined Shen in the hallway. “All right,” he said. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Roarke paced through the small room he’d been led into. The strange shifter who’d introduced himself as Shen had left him here, promising to come back with Quinn. In all honesty, Roarke had not expected the Tanners to have actual paranormals within their staff. He supposed it made sense, since they must have had a way they were keeping tabs on everything. It cemented his conviction that he’d done the right thing by staying away all this time.

The truth was, all spirit wolves, and naturally, ferals, had an instinct that made them identify other paranormal creatures. Roarke could indeed grasp that Shen must be a shifter of sorts, but he couldn’t tell Shen’s exact species, which made him even edgier and more pissed off.

He hated being taken by surprise, so he might have even considered leaving altogether. But something kept him here, some power greater than him. It wasn’t just the knowledge that he had to get to the bottom of whatever was causing his nightmares. No, there was much more to it than that. In some ways, he himself didn’t understand the anxiety pooling within him. It was as if he waited for something in particular, something that might change his life.

He got his answer when he sensed Shen approach once more. This time, however, the other shifter brought another young man with him. The new arrival’s blond locks brushed against his shoulders, and his big blue eyes widened at the first sight of Roarke. Roarke’s wolf burst out of him with such intensity that he couldn’t help but take a step forward.
Mate
, it howled.
Mate. Take him. Claim him.