Nischal [leopard spots 9] (9 page)

Even if it made him a dork, Nischal had to say it. “I’m glad because you will be my first, my only, my last, and you are my mate. No one will ever have me but you.”

Preston’s cheeks pinked up with a blush as he dropped his gaze. “I’m not as, er, pure as you.”

Nischal knew that, of course he did. He didn’t ever want to hear about any of Preston’s past lovers, though. “It’s okay. It’s even good that one of us knows what they’re doing. I was too nervous to fuck you when you asked earlier.” When Preston had begged, really. “I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, exactly.”

The sultry look that slid over Preston’s face was intriguing and had Nischal’s libido hopping up and clapping its hands for joy.

“Oh, dear boy, I’m going to have so much fun teaching you all the dirty things we can do together.” But instead of moving forward towards Nischal, he scooted farther back. “Later.”

“Later?” Nischal parroted.

“Aren’t you going to rescue your brother?” Preston asked.

Nischal’s libido vanished like a piece of bread tossed in a pond filled with ducks. How had he forgotten, even with the revelation that he’d found his mate? “I am the worst brother ever.”

Preston slowly shook his head as every bit of happiness and teasing fled from his expression. “No, I don’t think so. That would be me, the brother who was too busy to make time to hang out with his twin, and now Paul has paid the price for that, one way or the other.”

Chapter Nine

Failing a brother was something they had in common. In truth, Preston didn’t really think Nischal had failed Sabin. There had been people shooting and trying to kill each other the last Preston remembered from the fairgrounds debacle.

“You wouldn’t have done Sabin any favour by getting caught again,” Preston pointed out as Nischal got dressed. He had on a pair of Preston’s dark grey cargo shorts and a black tank top. There was nothing but flip-flops for his feet, and even Preston’s were too small for him. Nischal had them on regardless, with his toes hanging over the front of the flip-flops and his heels hanging off the back of them. “We should stop by a store and grab you some shoes that fit at least.”

Nischal grunted what certainly didn’t sound like an approving noise as he tightened a belt around his hips. “I don’t want to be seen any more than necessary.”

“I could go get them for you. I have a great eye for size.” Preston didn’t miss the fact that Nischal hadn’t remarked on the part about Sabin. He did have something to point out. “We need clothes for your brother too. Also, condoms and lube. Both of those are must-haves if we are going to be having anal sex.”

Nischal glanced up from his struggle with the belt buckle. “Condoms? Why? Shifters and humans can’t trade diseases. We can’t get anything like herpes or HIV. None of that stuff.”

Preston planted one hand on his cocked hip. “Really.” That sounded like a line to him.

Nischal gave up buckling the belt and tied the ends in a sloppy knot. “Yes, really. That was the one thing both our mother and Kapuk told us. Mom wouldn’t have lied to us. Though she was a hermit, she didn’t intend for us to be. She had dreams of us getting out of Nepal. Just not like we did,” he scoffed.

“Then what do shifters die from?” Preston asked, still not convinced.

Nischal scratched his pointed chin. “I don’t know. Seems like, for my breed, it’s being captured and killed. I have no doubt that once Suraj was done with his human trafficking plans, he’d have sold me and Sabin off to the highest bidder, and white snow leopards with coats as bright as ours are rare. There are many sick people who would have paid quite a tidy amount for us.”

“People suck,” Preston mumbled, rubbing his arms to chase away the chill Nischal’s words had brought to his skin.

“Not all of them.” Nischal gave him a shy smile and Preston’s stomach went all fluttery on him, like he’d swallowed a net full of butterflies.

“No,” he admitted. “Not all of them.”

Nischal peeked out of the window after pulling the blinds and curtains aside. “It’s almost dark. Are you ready?”

Preston picked up his bag. He had more of them in his Murano, but none of his clothes were going to fit Nischal any better than the ones he had on. Preston’s gaze was drawn to the white streaks in Nischal’s hair. He didn’t want to stand out. “Hang on a sec.”

Nischal watched him set his bag back down and unzip it. Preston found the ball cap he was looking for easily enough and he pulled it out. “Can you tuck your hair up under this?”

Nischal took the cap and looked at it. “What’s ‘Mossy Oak’?”

“No idea,” Preston said as he zipped the bag up. “Just saw a lot of people in Texas wearing caps like that and bought one since I didn’t want to stick out.”

Nischal scooped his hair up in one hand. He tried to put the cap on but couldn’t settle it on his head without letting half of his hair go.

“Let me help.” Preston almost moaned as he got his hands on the silky hair. “Have you always had the white?”

“No. It was a surprise. Not a pleasant one, either. I’m only twenty-two or three, not nearly old enough for this.” He tugged on a white strand that had drifted towards his face and glared at it. “I feel ancient.”

Preston plucked the strand from his fingers. “You don’t look ancient. Anyone who sees these would probably think you bleached out the white pieces and used toner on them to get them white. You have a young face, a lithe body—”

“Skinny, you mean,” Nischal grumbled.

Preston kept talking. “
Lithe,
like I said, and you move too fast to be old, so relax about these. I think they’re sexy, actually.” Which surprised him. He’d never had an older man kink, nor had he been into guys who dyed their hair weird colours. Preston had dated guys that were composed, almost stuffy. He’d been a fool.

“You really like it?” Nischal asked.

Preston had the distinct impression that Nischal wasn’t only talking about his hair, but also his thin build. Had Nischal been bulkier before he’d been captured? Muscled and ripped? It didn’t matter. Preston raked Nischal over visually. “I like all of it.” Even though he had moments where he thought he’d fallen into a rabbit hole and landed in another world.

But Nischal was real, his skin warm and fragrant with a musky oriental scent Preston couldn’t place. He just smelt divine.

“Is it covered?”

Preston shook himself out of his thoughts and tucked a few stray pieces of hair under the cap. “Yeah, you look like a native now.” Nischal’s honey-brown skin gave him a sun-kissed look that Preston’s paler complexion would never have.

“Let’s go. We can stop by a store or whatever once we have Sabin with us.” Nischal opened the door.

Preston went out first. He’d left his key card on the little dresser in the room. The bill had already been paid by Uncle Sam, so it wasn’t like he was skipping out on it or anything.

Nischal sniffed the air. He walked briskly and unerringly right to Preston’s vehicle.

“How did you know this one was mine?” Preston asked. He hadn’t pointed it out.

“Smells like you,” Nischal said with a smirk.

Preston didn’t know if that was a good thing.

“Not bad, not at all,” Nischal said in a sultry voice. “Like sex and man. Makes me hard.”

Which, in turn, made Preston’s cock sit up and take notice. He thumped that disobedient rod of his and hissed.

“Why would you ever do that?” Nischal asked, gawping at him. “Why?”

Preston hit the door lock button on the fob. “Because otherwise I’ll be walking around with a constant boner. I’m twenty-seven, Nisch. People would think I’d been licking those frogs that give you a hard-on or that I’d stolen my dad’s stash of ED drugs.”

“ED drugs? Frogs? What are you talking about?” Nischal opened the passenger front door and got in the vehicle. “You called me Nisch.”

“You need a nickname, and that’s just one of them I’m sure I’ll use.” Preston winked at Nischal. “And you can call me Pres if you want.”

Nischal paused with the ends of the seatbelt in his hands. “I think I like having a nickname. No one’s ever called me anything other than my names—my real one, and the one Suraj gave me.”

“I’ll be calling you things that’ll make you blush soon enough,” Preston promised. He opened his passenger side door and tossed his bag on the back seat. It landed by his laptop bag and he let out a sigh of relief that he hadn’t chucked his duffle on top of it. Breaking his laptop would have sucked.

“As to the other stuff, there are some kind of frogs that have this chemical on their backs. Licking that stuff gives a guy an erection, and ED means erectile dysfunction, so the meds for that would—”

“I understand now, thanks,” Nischal said, cutting him off and covering his shaft through his shorts. “Let’s not discuss anything being wrong with our dicks.”

That seemed like a good plan to Preston. He focused on their immediate goal. “How are you getting Sabin out?” Then he remembered what Agent De la Garza had said the day before. “Shit! There’s someone coming for Sabin today, I think tonight, from a large cat reserve in Arizona. I forgot—”

“I won’t lose him,” Nischal growled. “He’s the only family I have left, and what if the place that’s taking him wants to do things to him?”

Preston didn’t even ask what Nischal meant. His balls tried crawling up inside his body as he buckled up. “I, er, wouldn’t think they’d do any snipping considering how endangered snow leopards are.”

“I won’t take the risk,” Nischal said. “I don’t know what the repercussions of any vaccines or medical care they administered might have on him. Sabin is—he won’t survive being alone.”

Preston had learned that people were often more resilient than others perceived them to be. Often times, he’d had a preconceived opinion about a friend or family member and had been proven a fool for thinking he had insight into their personal thoughts and feelings.
Another example of why I made a C in psych.

“We’ll get him,” was what he said to Nischal rather than share his opinion. After all, he knew nothing at all about Sabin, other than that he was Nisch’s brother and a shifter, too.

It didn’t take them but a few minutes to reach the clinic. Night had fallen in those minutes, but the veterinary clinic property had several outdoor lights on it. There was one car parked at the side of the building. No one was lingering outside.

Preston passed the clinic instead of turning in the parking lot. “There’s a road right down here with a cut-off that’s a dirt road. Saw it when I was driving around this dinky place waiting to approach Suraj.”

“How long did you follow him?”

Preston sucked on his bottom lip then let it go. “A few months. I spent a lot of time researching him and Yangani before then, a lot of time trying to find out if Paul was still alive. Too much time wasted on arguing with the cops in the town of Dewey, Arkansas, where Paul went missing.”

“You’re from Arkansas?” Nischal asked, glancing at him.

“Originally I’m from Mississippi, actually. Our folks moved us all to Arkansas our sophomore year, and once we graduated, they hauled ass for Hawaii, which is where they live now.”
Like they couldn’t wait to get away from their queer boys
. Preston and Paul had waited until they’d graduated to tell their parents they were gay. They’d both been unsure of their devout parents’ reactions.

“They came back when you told them Paul was missing, didn’t they?”

Preston turned down the road leading to the second one they’d end up parking on. “No. They didn’t think there was any point. They aren’t horrible people, but they…” There was no other way to say it other than honestly. “They don’t love us like they did before we came out to them. We’re still their sons, just they’d rather not have to see or anything.”

Nischal reached across and put a hand on Preston’s thigh. “I’m sorry. Parents should love their children more than their religion.”

“They should,” Preston agreed, “but some don’t. Maybe it’s a case of the parents loving God more than their kids, but I honestly don’t believe God would hate someone for being the way He made them.”

“This was never an issue with my mother or Kapuk,” Nischal said, stroking Preston’s thigh. “I don’t know the way of it with other snow leopard shifters, or other shifters in general, if they exist. There is no one God for us. We believe in fate and destiny, in the spirits of the animals that live inside of us. Animals tend to be more focused in their violence and resort to it only as a means of defence or survival, like catching our meals. Humans seem to want to hate for reasons I can’t comprehend.”

“But you
are
human, too,” Preston stated, hoping for confirmation.

“I am,” Nischal agreed. “Human, and more. The spirit of the snow leopard lives in me. It will go on after this body has passed away. That is one of our beliefs. Whether or not I receive a shifter spirit in my next life is up to fate and destiny, not me nor the spirit inside of me now.”

“Wow. I think I like your views. To tell the truth, I’ve been kind of lost, spiritually, since I realised I was gay and the way I felt inside didn’t align itself to the religion I’d been brought up in.” Preston sighed and made the last turn. “I wouldn’t say I am an atheist, but I just don’t know what to believe. Sometimes I think there’s a God and He’s watching over us. Other times, I see all the bad shit going on in the world, and I think there can’t possibly be a God who gives a damn about us.”

“We have to care about us regardless of any deity,” Nischal said. “We have to care about our planet, our society and future generations. This world can’t continue if everyone becomes focused only on their own problems and pleasures.”

“Right.” Preston wanted to discuss this subject more with Nischal, but they had a rescue to pull off. Added to that, everything still felt surreal. He pulled the car off the road. “I think we’re about parallel with the vet clinic here. If we go across this field and through the trees, we should come out close to where we need to be.”

“Good. Wait here for us.” Nischal was out of the door like a shot. Preston got out and hissed, “Stop!”