Croc's Return (17 page)

Because that is the nature of the beast.

Something he heard over and over, but it didn’t change how he felt. He could handle violence, but his croc self took it to a scary level, dragging him along for the ride, willing or not.

Practice makes perfect.

Did that really apply when dealing with another personality? Every time he let the croc out, he feared losing another part of himself. Of returning less human than before.

Yet, containing the beast didn’t work. It still lurked in his head, tossing its own thoughts and emotions into everything Caleb did.

Remember what happened the last few times you tried to cage the beast
?

Practice makes perfect. The expression repeated itself.

Stop whining about your split personality problem and get shifting.
Full dusk had fallen, and Wes was expecting him, not as a man, but as a crocodile.

Fuck fear.
Fear never helped a situation.
I will make fear my bitch.
Time to throw on the scales and do something that would make people, like his family, safe.

But before he did so, Caleb made sure his brother would stand guard in his stead. It involved a conversation that might have made more than a few humans blanch.

“I gotta go on the prowl and see what I can find out about that lizard thing lurking around,” Caleb told Constantine after having tucked Luke in and saying goodnight to Renny—which involved more kissing and even bluer balls.

“You want me to curtail my evening of alcoholic debauchery to babysit?”

“Yeah.”

Constantine shrugged. “Okay. But I’m telling you right now, if something pays us a visit, I’m not holding Princess back.”

Casting a glance at the rat, who wore a pink bow today in her fine hair, Caleb smirked. “Sure, let the hound of hell loose. I’m sure your hairball will do a fine job hobbling any attackers with a rabid gnaw of their Achilles tendon.”

“Laugh all you want, but she actually goes for the ankles so she can get her prey to bend over and present their jugular. Princess believes in going for the killing shot.” Said with such pride.

Grrr.
A tiny lip pulled back, a murderous glare entered those giant eyes, and her ears pointed in aggressive fury.

“There is something seriously deviant about that dog,”
Caleb said as he glanced again at Princess.

“I know.” Constantine beamed. “Pure perfection.”

At the words, Princess yipped, but Con missed the canine smirk on her tiny muzzle.

Much as I hate to admit it, that’s one fucking smart appetizer.

With that kind of protection left behind for his family, Caleb stripped and walked naked to the edge of the bayou. He dipped a toe in the brackish water, delaying the inevitable. The water was fine. The humming mosquitoes didn’t bother him. Not even the mud.

It was the
other
he dreaded.

So long since he’d allowed his feral side to rise. Months since he’d felt the gnawing ache of the hunger, the thrill of the beast as it pursued its prey. The chomp of—

He clamped his eyes shut. But for once, he couldn’t stop the feelings. The alien thought process of his beast merged with his consciousness.

Remember what the shrink said.

Don’t fight your animal side.

Don’t equate what you do while shifted with who you are.

We are hunters. And hunters don’t just chase their prey. Sometimes they eat them, too. It’s the nature of life.

A life Caleb had tried to deny, worried that there was something wrong with him, that his monster took too much pleasure in the death of others.

But other than that first mistake, had he truly ever lost absolute control? The rest had all deserved what he dished.

Still, it only took one major mistake to fuck me over.

How much worse if the next fuckup happened to Renny or Luke?

But he couldn’t think that way. Not now when he needed his senses sharp.

Tonight we hunt.

The lukewarm water bathed his scaled skin, and if a croc could sigh, his did. How he’d missed the smooth glide of his powerful body through the silky swamp. Vegetation tickled his underbelly, the waving fronds not impeding his progress. His sensory spots along his jaw fed him further information—temperature, current, the fact that this water lacked salt.

Maybe once this was over, he’d take his family to the beach. A day spent soaking in the sun and briny water, with Renny in a bikini.

His pleasant fantasy didn’t stop him from doing his task.

Tail swishing, Caleb zigzagged across the submerged parts of the wetland. When he had to, he did a belly run across the ground, startling the smaller rodents into hiding.

Thankfully, his reptile did not feel a need to stop for a snack. He’d made sure to have a large dinner so his snaggletoothed side wouldn’t be tempted.

With that fear quelled, he found a lot more enjoyment in the bayou search. He spent hours crisscrossing the marshy acres between his house and the Bittech Institute. Nothing. Nothing.
Ooh, fresh turtle eggs
. Nothing.

He was just about to call it quits when he detected it. Another large predator.

Inching up onto the muddy shore, Caleb stayed low, his belly brushing the ground as he took in the situation. He crept forward, frame held high enough to not drag and alert his target. He slitted his eyes, filtering the ambient starlight to guide his steps.

Silently, he moved, the predator facing away from him, upwind, providing a tempting target. Caleb opened his mouth wide, his long, extended snout ridged with sharp teeth. He snapped it shut with a
clack
.

Wes didn’t even jump. “Dude, you are seriously loud. Like my brother”—a bull gator—“in a china shop. Did you really think I wouldn’t hear you coming?”

It took but a moment to shift shapes, a gasping process that he didn’t really enjoy. The youngsters always asked as they approached those puberty years, “Does it hurt?”

Hell yeah, but you got used to it. And if you didn’t, you lied so you wouldn’t look like a pussy.

Straightening from his crouch, Caleb replied. “I take it you didn’t find anything.” A few strides brought Caleb to a different fallen trunk to sit on because while nudity might be acceptable among shifters, getting into someone’s naked space, unless you were banging them, was considered rude.

“A faint scent trace. But it was old and didn’t lead anywhere.”

“Are we sure that thing is hiding in the swamp?”

“Where else would it be?” Wes asked. “It’s not as if it can rent a room in town.”

“So I guess we keep looking.”

“Not tonight we aren’t. You have a job to get to tomorrow morning.”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “I guess I wouldn’t want to piss off the boss the first day.”

“You got that straight.”

For a moment, they sat in silence and let the sounds of the bayou roll over them. The soft plop of water as something surfaced for a bite. The hum of insects out for a night of drinking blood and procreating before the dawn saw them dying. The chorus of frogs, their symphony interrupted every now and then as one of their number went from entertainment to dinner.

“Fucking hell, I gotta ask. Why did you leave?”

Wes’s question startled Caleb, and he shot the other man a look. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I was just surprised is all. Especially given how hot and heavy you were with Renny.”

“Something happened, and I kind of had no choice.”

“I know what you did that summer.” Wes smirked.

Caleb froze. “What are you talking about?” The words emerged from a dry mouth. Caleb had been alone when it happened. And he still wasn’t sure what had happened. A blank spot resided in his mind. One minute he was walking home from Renny’s, and then, in what felt like a blink, he regained awareness as his jaws were ripping apart a man.

“Considering you left not even twelve hours after you were dumped in the marsh with that dead guy—”

“Stop. What do you mean dumped with a dead guy? What the hell did you see?”

The hard look Wes shot him held a glint of red, the beast he held within but seemed to share his life with in harmony.

“I mean that a couple of guys dragged your scaly sleeping ass out of a big truck and dropped you in the water and then dumped a body in front of you. Some guy wearing army scrubs with a syringe stuck you and ran away. He and the others took off in the truck before you woke up.”

Woke up hungry, dazed, and angry. He’d smelled something in front of him and snapped. Chewed.
I killed and ate a human.

He’d later retched most of it up on shore when he staggered from the marsh, naked and dirty. But the military truck, with its blazing lights and barking soldiers, seemed to know what he was, and what he was guilty of.

Of course they did because… “I was framed.” Caleb couldn’t help a note of incredulity. “Those fucking assholes framed me. They made me think I’d lost control. They told me I killed a man.” The cry he let loose held frustrated fury. All those years he’d blamed himself. Feared himself. Done despicable things because they said he had to. “It was all a fucking lie. And I believed it.” Instead of trusting himself.

“I would have told you what I saw back then, but before I could get to you, you were gone. You and a few other boys. You’re the only one that came back.”

Because shifters were the expendable soldiers, the ones sent into the most dangerous of situations because they were the most likely to survive. “Lucky me.”

“Oh, stop it with the pity-me, I’m-so-screwed routine. At least you came back. Can those other guys say the same?”

“No.” He’d lost too many friends to count. “But it’s hard to forget.”

“You don’t have to forget. But you can choose to live in the now and create new memories, good ones to remember.”

“This is getting way too Kumbaya for me,” Caleb growled.

“Don’t worry, I was going to mock your dick size in a second.”

“And there is so much to mock. I tell you, it’s hard carrying that kind of weight around, but the ladies love it.”

Wes burst out laughing. “Asshole.”

“And I’m a fucking brain-addled tool obviously because, crazily enough, I missed this.”

“Missed hunting possibly murderous dinos in the swamp?”

A snicker left Caleb. “Actually, I’m liking this new game.” So long as he won in the end. “But more, I missed home. The swamp. A place I can let my croc out that has nothing to do with the war or taking out the enemy.”

“They really did a number on you.”

“And then some.”

But he was healing and, even better, falling in love all over again, which came with a new set of anxieties.

Was his family safe while he was gone?

His chat with Wes over, Caleb took a direct route back to his house, anxious to check on them. What if the creature they hunted had circled back and gone after Luke again?

What if…

Curse it, now he was the one who couldn’t stop questioning.

Body undulating, he moved and grooved his way home only to pause at the muddy edge.

Someone is watching.

He almost stayed hidden in the weeds, willing them to go, but that smacked of cowardice.

Striding from the brackish water, he immediately scented the air, but it remained clear of alien odors.

In other good news, the house remained secure. The traps he’d strung along the window intact, the doors closed, and he assumed locked. Nothing seemed out of place.

Everything looked and smelled right except for him. The swamp’s perfume clung to his skin, a miasma he would never dare bring into the house. A wooden spoon named Spanky had taught him that lesson young.

Besides, he didn’t need to go inside to get clean, not when they had an outdoor shower that drew from their well. It wasn’t hot water, but it was fresh, and the bar of soap kept in a dish, lemon scented.

It didn’t take long to rinse the bayou from his skin, but even once clean, he didn’t move. He remained standing under the spray, face lifted to it, and tried not to react as she drew near.

Renny.

From the moment he’d risen from the waters, he’d sensed her presence and tried not to let on. It wasn’t easy, not when he knew she watched.

She sees my beast.

A part of him had wanted to submerge under the murky surface of the swamp. To hide who he was. What he was.

More secrets.

He couldn’t do it. If he wanted a life with Renny, they needed to start with honesty, starting with his croc.

This is who I am.
Whom he’d never dared reveal back when they were dating. Would she run away?

He might have held his breath when he rose from the weeds and mud, scaled skin rippling and sliding as the magic of the change drew his reptilian features back to the spot hidden within. Smooth flesh, strands of hair, and a face that could pass for human took their place. He walked as a man, straight, proud, and naked.

Did he forget to mention aroused? Knowing she watched, and didn’t flee, brought a boil to his blood. He could suntan himself under the heat of her gaze.

But he pretended to not know.
Don’t push her.
Let her come to him.

Please let her come to me.

Feeling her stare the entire time he showered did nothing to help his erection. How hard it was—so very, very hard—to not stroke himself to completion. But he didn’t dare.

She watched. What would she think if he came without her?

Would she know that he thought of her? Would it disgust her? What if it didn’t? What if he spent himself and she needed him?

Pretending nonchalance was so difficult and remembering to breathe as she approached with soft footsteps even harder.

“You can stop faking it. I know that you know I’m here.”

He turned to face her, unable to stop a smile. “Say that fast five times.”

“I’ve better ideas if you’re in the mood for tongue twisting.” Despite the droplets of water hitting her from the spray, she remained close to him. Very close.

The tank top she wore molded the curves of her breasts, outlining their weighted roundness and delineating nipples that shriveled into points as he stared at them.

Tiny shorts hugged her shapely hips, and a hint of rounded belly peeked at him between those skimpy bottoms and top.