Everything Carries Me to You (Axton and Leander Book 3) (53 page)

"You're cozying up to people you got no right to," Dana snarled.

"Not, like, excessively," Leander said.

"You being here at all's
excessive
!"

"Well, you agreed to it," Leander pointed out. "It was your preferred alternative."

"This is temporary," Dana hissed. "This is very, very fucking temporary. Soon as I figure some shit out."

"Sure," Leander said agreeably, nodding.

"Until then," Dana said, "you stay away from people, you hear? You keep your distance."

"That's not really fair, is it?" Leander asked. "That wasn't part of the deal. And it's not like I'm bothering anyone."

That was, apparently, the last straw.

"Why does everyone like you?" Dana shouted. "What the fuck do you
do
to people?" He grabbed Leander by the lapels and slammed him against the wall.

Trevor stuck his head into the room, narrowing his eyes.

"Dana, cut that shit out," he said. "It's undignified of you."

The only response was a growl.

"I didn't stop you last time you beat the shit outta someone for no good reason, and see how that turned out--"

Dana snarled, slammed Leander against the wall once more, and let him go.

"Jealousy is a shit quality in a leader, is all I'm sayin'," Trevor said. Dana sulked.

"Thanks, Trev," Leander said, brushing off his jacket. "I appreciate the assist."

"He's just been ornery lately," Trevor said. "Don't mind Dana none."

"I'm right here!" Dana shouted. "Don't talk about me like I ain't in the same goddamn room!"

"Y'see?" Trevor shrugged, taking a bite out of an apple. "Ornery."

"Maybe if you let me go outside, I'd have less contact with people," Leander pointed out.

"Outta my sight, asshole," Dana said. "I have to have a talk with my second in command."

"Out of your sight, like another room out of your sight, or, like, actually go outside an--"

"OUT!" Dana shouted.

Trevor was trying to hide his grin.

Oh, please, not in the briar patch, anything but that
, Leander thought smugly, but what he actually did was throw up his hands and say, "Okay, okay, I'm going, jesus."

Right. Hiking. Man, how long had it been since he'd gotten to tromp through the woods? As soon as he got out of here, Leander vowed, him and Axton were going camping. Or maybe glamping, to get back in the hang of things. Surely in his infinite pursuit of leisure, New York had bought an RV that he could be persuaded to loan.

Leander crashed through brambles and dried branches, tripped over rabbit holes and slid down mud banks. It bothered him that he was rushing, not taking the time to appreciate the beauty of the landscape, but he was on a
mission
and, god, better to think of the wasted gorgeosity and the future camping and the RV than to focus on that fact that he was probably doing something
stupid
and he might just get killed for his trouble, jesus fucking christ.

This was the part where he had to climb, as expected.

Hungry, sweaty, more tired than he had any reason to expect to be, Leander hauled himself over the last bit of rock. God, he needed to get back to getting out more.

Leander blundered past the tree line, into a meadow, and stopped so suddenly that he almost fell.

Ah, shit. It was still surprising.

There was a big wolf directly in front of him, and her eyes were blue and distrustful. Leander was distracted from this by the white gleam of her half bared teeth.

"Uh," he said eloquently, wiping his palms on his knees and standing up straight, clearing his throat. "I'm friends with your--no, okay, I'm not friends with Dana. I'm Axton's boyfriend, and I've heard a lot about you, and I have some things to say, if you don't mind, and some questions about your late husband."

Slowly, her hackles lowered. Leander couldn't tell if it was his words or just the tone of his voice. Helen sat.

"My name is Leander," he said, sitting down cross legged in front of her. He took a deep breath.

"I'm just saying, next time get taken hostage some place where the cell reception isn't shit," Sarah said.

"Lecture me later," Leander said, glancing at the door. Everyone was out hunting right now and it wasn't like he'd been forbidden phone calls since he had pass codes to give and everything, but still, this was clearly a social call. At least it wasn't like the first few calls, which had been emotional and a touch hysterical--on both sides.

"I'm
going
to lecture the shit out of you, you son of a bitch, for not telling me you were going to--what, no, stop it--"

"Hi," New York said. "Now can I punch a guy? We can totally rescue you. I've been preparing."

"You're banging my PA," Leander said. "I'm so not giving you the satisfaction of righteously punching a guy."

Leander heard the dull sound of a hand covering the mouth piece ineffectively.

"Did you tell him we were banging?" he asked Sarah.

"For fuck's sake," Sarah muttered, and Leander heard her wrestle the phone back. "You didn't tell me you knew we were banging."

"Well, you didn't tell me you were banging," Leander said. "So don't use that tone of voice on me."

"You're not allowed to be jealous," Sarah said. "You gave yourself up as a hostage for reasons I don't understand that have to do with your serious long term boyfriend's need for justice or some bullshit."

"I'm
possessive
; that's not the same thing as jealous," Leander said. "I'm possessive of Christina, too, and she's a sister to me. And I think that New York is an asshole to women."

"Yeah," Sarah said fondly. "But like, not really, mostly? He's a nice distraction."

"Oh, drink the Kool-Aid some more, sure," Leander said. He refrained from making a jizz flavor joke, but the temptation was there.

"His heart's in the right place," Sarah said.

"I'm not sure his
heart
is the crux here, Sarah."

"I think that's the appeal for me right now," she said.

"Are you talking about my dick?" New York asked loudly, definitely meaning to be heard.

"Just all this high stakes life or death emotional stuff going on," Sarah said, ignoring him, "it gets a little heavy. He's a nice distraction."

"My
dick
is a--"

"The joke stops being funny when it's entirely true," Sarah said, cutting him off and then turning her attention back to the phone. "Sorry, go on."

"As long as you're careful," Leander said. "I want you to be happy."

"I know," Sarah said. "I want you to be happy, too. Obviously."

"Or else why are you enabling this really stupid high stakes adventure? Right," Leander said, glancing at the door again. "Look, can you mail me something?"

She agreed and he rattled off his specifications. New York took the phone.

"Why can't we rescue you?" he asked plaintively. "We
know where you are
, for fuck's sake."

"I agreed to come here," Leander said.

"So did your boyfriend, when he was there," New York said, "and you rescued him anyway."

"That's different," Leander said.

"How?" New York asked.

"I made an
informed
choice to be here," Leander said.

"Whatever," New York said.

"There's a distinction!" Leander insisted.

"Yeah, you're not defensive about it at all or anything," New York said.

"Fuck you," Leander said.

"Very professional."

"I'm under a lot of strain right now," Leander said.

"Sure," New York said, too kindly. "That excuses a lot. Of course."

"I am
such
a fucking professional, don't even start."

"So, you can talk to the carpet client, then?" New York asked cheerfully.

Fuck. He'd been outplayed. Fucking New York. Fucking shark in a suit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"
No
," Leander said. "I am not going to--no. Tell him to settle."

"He requested you specifically," New York said. "You could teleconference in."

Leander exhaled noisily and wished he had two hands free to massage his temples.

"I am
not
going to teleconference while I'm in a hostage situation," he said.

"Fine," New York said blithely. "I guess you'll just get rescued, then."

"Jesus christ," Leander said. "Really?"

"Did you bring a suit?" New York asked.

"Yeah, I bring a suit to all my hostage situations," Leander retorted, tone aggressive and biting, but then--"Oh, shit."

"What?" New York asked. "Can we mail you one? Sarah-bun has your measurements memorized."

"I have one," Leander said. "Dana let me grab my luggage, so I have a suit." Silently he added,
Sarah-bun? Seriously?

"See?" New York said. "No reason not to teleconference."

"I hate you," Leander said, "and you're banging my PA."

"Yeah," New York said cheerfully.

"I will break your legs if you hurt her," Leander said.

"Like to see you
try
," New York drawled. "Besides, I've been meaning to work on my wheelchair game. I think it has potential. I have a chair at the ready."

"You can't just pretend to need a wheelchair and go to clubs to pick up chicks," Leander said, appalled. "
Jesus
, what's wrong with you?"

"I so can," New York said. "I mean, not now, but."

"You will not pick up chicks while you are banging my PA," Leander said. "Wheelchair or no."

"Yeah," New York said reluctantly.

"Even if you two aren't officially monogamous or anything," Leander clarified. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah," New York said.

"Even if you say you're doing it just for points to see how many numbers you can get," Leander said firmly.

"Yeah, yeah," New York muttered.

"Look," Leander said, "I gotta go."

"I'll set up a teleconference time," New York said.

Leander hung up.

And so, Leander found himself in front of his laptop, dressed in a blazer, shirt, tie, pocket square, and jeans and fuzzy slippers, because only his top half was visible on the webcam.

He wasn't sure how the fuck he was going to explain this to Dana if he got caught.

This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever done
, he thought bleakly. Not climbing the highest tree in the neighborhood when he was seven. Not smoking up with the chief of police's daughter between classes. Not asking a college senior to prom. Not speed scaling the campus water tower that one time. Not pairing up with New York for the mixed martial arts tournament they predictably got disqualified from. Not buying a cabin, sight unseen, in the middle of nowhere, Montana. Not dating a gay werewolf. Not volunteering himself as a hostage as part of a complicated secret plan.

No, the stupidest and most ridiculous thing he had ever done in his life was right here, right now, where he was wearing fucking bunny slippers and talking to a judge via webcam about burning carpets while he was held hostage by his werewolf lover's jealous ex-boyfriend.

New York
would
stage a rescue, too, just to get back at him for not teleconferencing. And he'd fuck it all up by punching Dana at the wrong time. Who got disqualified for actually hitting someone during a point sparring match, seriously? Leander was still kind of bitter.

I have no idea what I'm saying
, Leander marveled, as he nodded thoughtfully at the camera while someone else was talking.
I prepared notes. I have an outline. I have no idea what the fuck I just said.

It was a damned good thing that he performed so well under pressure.

Privately, Leander was exhausted. He was performing at all waking hours, unless he was out in the woods playing occupational therapist, unless he was secretly reading up on werewolf culture and procedure. That didn't leave many hours to be non-waking hours, and being always
on
was just so...

With a sigh, Leander closed his eyes, sprawled out on his bed with one of Jack's leather-bound notebooks open on his chest.

A chorus of wolf howls went up, sudden and electrifying and filling the whole world with sound.

Leander jumped back into wakefulness.

Right, right.

Hunting time was research time.

Jesus fucking christ, he wanted to buy an espresso machine, if he was going to be stuck here for much longer.

"Yeah, this is more like it," Leander said with satisfaction, dangling his legs over the edge of the precipice he was sitting on, with Helen sprawled out beside him. He scratched behind her ears gratefully. "Thanks for showing me the view."

"You're sure this is going to work?" Jack asked.

"Nope," Leander said. "Pass me the highlighter, please."

Jack obliged.

"This is very different than planning a coup with Axton," he observed.

"'Planning,'" Leander muttered, shuffling a stack of index cards together neatly. "That's what you did? That's that what we're calling it?"

"Such disdain for good intentions," Jack said. "The way you talk, it's like you're some kind of expert in hostile takeovers."

"It's not hostile," Leander said.

"Hah!" Jack said. "You
do
have experience in organizational takeovers!"

"Well, I ended up installing my best friend as a big boss last time," Leander said, "and I've had plenty of time to regret that, so I'd really prefer to not talk about it."

"You really think Axton's going to come back with back up?" Jack asked.

"Hope so," Leander said, gathering the stack of cards up and tapping them on the table. "Okay, let's start again from branching point C."

Howls, familiar yet no less ominous.

But tonight, the howls went on for longer and longer--

Trevor appeared in the doorway, body dark and long in the shadows. For once, he wasn't smiling.