Chapter Five
The textile factory was definitely not part of regular tourist spots and for good reason. It loomed, half swallowed by sand in a mass of crumbling brick and boarded-up windows. Lamont materialized in the shadow of a half-collapsed wall, taking in the scene.
The first thing he noticed was two black jeeps and an expensive convertible that were parked outside what would’ve been the main entrance of the place.
Lamont shook his head. The vehicles, while covered in dust, were so out of place they might as well have been neon signs indicating criminal activities inside.
His hound surged forward, a pull so strong Lamont actually stumbled a step before catching himself.
What are you doing? There was no denying his hound wanted to get closer. Lamont still didn’t know one hundred percent why, although he was equally eager to save Ewen. He just thought he and his hound should take the time to familiarize themselves with the layout before dashing into anything.
We need to get in there.
Lamont moved toward the building, his boots sinking slightly in sand.
The entire area was eerily quiet and about as barren as the wastelands.
There was no breeze. The only thing that broke the stillness was the shimmer of heat on small dunes in the distance.
Moving closer to the building, his hound was alert and ready to spring free at a moment’s notice.
And then he heard it. Barking, growling, and then shouting in English and Arabic. Thanks to being a hellhound, Lamont could understand everything he heard…except the barking.
“Where the hell did that come from?”
“…catch it!”
“How did it get loose?”
“Get loose from where? Which one of you bastards brought a dog?”
“Not mine. How did it get in here? The door’s shut.”
“Just grab the damn thing…” That was a woman’s voice. Then she screamed.
Lamont froze for a moment as realization hit him around the head like a two by four. You’ve got to be kidding me.
Ewen was a shifter. He had to be. And apparently he’d gotten so desperate that he’d shifted to try an escape, which explained the chaos Lamont could hear escalating inside.
Lamont cursed his stupidity - how come I didn’t notice that when we met?
He should have picked up on it. There were always slight tells, especially at a soul level.
But of course, Lamont hadn’t been searching Ewen’s soul.
He didn’t have a reason to at the time. He was too busy being distracted by the urgency in Ewen’s voice and Lord Hades’s orders.
There was no time to worry about his mistakes now. The barking had intensified, accompanied by sounds of crashing furniture and increasingly creative cursing in both languages.
Lamont clicked his fingers. A black balaclava materialized in his palm.
It was going to be hot, but Lamont was used to the heat - he called the Underworld home after all.
He pulled it on, making sure it fully covered his hair and face until only his eyes remained visible, then moved to the door closest to the parked vehicles.
One well-placed kick and the door crashed inward, hinges screaming.
The scene that greeted him would have been comical under different circumstances.
The ground floor of the warehouse was just one wide open space, mostly empty except for scattered furniture and equipment.
There were six men - all dark haired and dressed in camo shirts and pants, running around in chaotic circles.
The only two anomalies were a woman who dressed as if she belonged in a CEO’s office, standing to one side, her hands up by her chin, hopping from one foot to the other as if worried about getting bitten, and the being the men were all chasing… a large black dog.
Except now that Lamont had a clear view, he realized it wasn’t a dog they were chasing, but a fox - something that should never have been in the desert regions of Egypt at all.
A silver fox, if Lamont wasn’t mistaken, with sleek black fur, a cute face - although the fox was currently showing a lot of teeth - and his eyes so wide, Lamont could see the desperation.
Ewen. It has to be.
The fox spotted Lamont the instant he entered. Those sharp eyes locked onto him, and without hesitation, the animal pivoted mid-stride and bolted straight toward him.
“Stop it!” the woman shrieked.
One of the guards lunged. The fox dodged, darting quickly despite having what looked like a pronounced limp in his left hind leg.
Lamont barely had time to process what was happening before the fox leaped at him.
Instinct took over. He caught the animal against his chest, his arms wrapping around the surprisingly light body.
The fox immediately started licking his face through the balaclava, trying to nudge it out of place with his nose, and his tail wagging so hard his entire body vibrated.
Why is he…?
There was no time to figure it out. The guards had spotted him now, and they were reaching for their weapons. Knives came to hand easily, but Lamont hadn’t missed a half a dozen large guns propped up against the wall at the back.
“Who the hell are you? Is that mutt yours?” The woman was attractive, but her snarl wasn’t doing her any favors.
It was on the tip of Lamont’s tongue to say something - to snarl a response to the insult to Ewen, to demand answers of his own, to ask them who the hell they were and why the hell did they think he owned a dog?
But as the fox whimpered, Lamont realized he had something far more important to take care of.
Running back out the door, Lamont ducked around the side of the building even as he heard the clatter of boots and high heeled shoes. Thinking about his hotel room on the other side of Cairo, and keeping a firm hold on the fox, Lamont translocated.
The world folded and reformed in the space between heartbeats.
The factory disappeared. His hotel room materialized around them with its generic cream walls, a king sized bed with its forgettable brown coverlet, and the desk with his laptop and scattered notes still sitting there as if he’d just popped out for coffee.
The fox in his arms twisted, looking around with what could only be described as confusion. Then those keen eyes found Lamont’s face again, and the tail wagging resumed with renewed enthusiasm.
“Okay, just take it easy.” Lamont set the fox down carefully on the bed.
The animal wobbled, their poor legs shaking.
Up close, Lamont could see the damage: matted fur, visible ribs, raw patches around the ankles where restraints had rubbed skin bloody.
The fox was definitely favoring his left hind leg.
Lamont could only imagine that now the immediate danger was past, the poor fox was crashing fast.
“I have a lot of skills,” Lamont said slowly, carefully running his hand over the fox’s head. “Unfortunately, speaking fox isn’t one of them.”
The fox tilted his head, watching Lamont with an intensity that felt almost human. Which made sense, given there was a human consciousness behind those eyes.
Lamont pulled off the balaclava and ran his hand through his hair. “Right. So. What do you need first? Clothes? Food? A bath? Did you want to shift?”
The fox yipped, then started to shimmer. The shift was slower than it should have been, probably due to malnutrition and stress, but within seconds, a naked man crouched on Lamont’s hotel bed.
Ewen Cross. Definitely Ewen Cross. The same mop of black hair, same intense eyes - Lamont found he missed the glasses, but that really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. His slight build looked even more fragile without clothes, every rib visible, bruises blooming across pale skin.
And he was staring at Lamont like he’d hung the moon. Lamont quickly clicked up a soft blanket and awkwardly draped it around Ewen’s shoulders so that at least he was covered.
“You shouldn’t do that. I stink.”
Smelling up the bed was the least of Lamont’s worries. “You might be going into shock.” That’s what people did to others who had a traumatic experience, wasn’t it?
“I can’t believe you even came.” Ewen’s voice cracked. “I didn’t think…after the restaurant. I thought you didn’t…”
He swayed, and Lamont lunged forward, catching him before he toppled off the bed. “Whoa, easy, there,” he said, helping Ewen sit up again, gently edging him more toward the center of the bed. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I don’t…” Ewen blinked slowly, like focusing was taking tremendous effort. “Yesterday? Maybe. They gave me some bread yesterday, I think. Time got weird.”
Lamont had a sinking feeling that if Ewen had been human, he might not have survived.
“I can get you food - anything you want. But…” He scratched the back of his head, knowing he had to ask.
His hound was still a bit edgy, even though Ewen was technically safe.
Although his hound could’ve been pissed off because he didn’t get a chance to shift and take a large chunk out of the asses of certain camo-covered thugs.
“Is there any reason…” Shit, there was no easy way to ask. “Is there any reason you thought I might’ve followed you after you went off with those two guys just after you gave me your business card? I mean, I did text the next day and called the number you gave me - you didn’t answer.”
“My phone is long gone…you know…because I’d been abducted.
” Ewen started to cough, and Lamont quickly clicked up a bottle of water.
Uncapping it, he held it out, for some reason pleased when Ewen downed at least half of it in six gulps.
“You really didn’t know, did you?” Ewen shook his head and then drank some more before saying, “That answers one question, at least.”
“Know that you were a shifter? Not when we met, no.” Lamont was still puzzled. “Should I have? Would it have made a difference to…?”
“I recognized who you are to me the moment I saw you.” Ewen’s eyes were fixed on Lamont’s face.
“Who, I am, to you…” Lamont said slowly.
Then it was as if his world view shifted and all the missing pieces fell into place.
Why he’d been so worried about Ewen, even though he didn’t know him.
Why he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him when he was in Tuscany, and then Australia, and why he’d gone back to Egypt and even possibly violated some obscure rule put in place by Lord Zeus by pushing Coda to tell him where Ewen was. “Are we mates?”
“Yes!” It was as if all of Ewen’s breath shot out of his body just by saying the one word.
He slumped over, rocking on his butt as he cradled his almost empty water bottle between his hands.
“I’m your mate, you’re my mate, we’re mates, and that’s why I don’t understand why you let me go off with those two thugs. ”
I’ve got to get some food in him. “I didn’t know, but I was worried,” Lamont said. “And I did call. And text. I even went to New York looking for you. But…that night…I couldn’t stay at the restaurant. Lord Hades had a job for me, and I had to leave immediately. If I’d known…”
“Lord Hades?” Ewen looked up, his jaw slack and eyes wide. “The one from the Underworld?”
“Yep. That’s him. It’s a long story.” Lamont smiled. “I will tell it, but I really think you need some food, and a shower or bath first, and maybe some sleep. Don’t you? What would you like to eat? Anything you like. Consider me your personal food-clicker-upper.”
“Yes, sure. Why not?” Ewen seemed dazed, but that was understandable.
He’d had a rough week or so. “Something with gravy - meat with lots and lots of gravy. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat a chunk of dry meat again.
And bread - fresh, soft, sourdough bread, but with lashings and lashings of butter…
and some roast potatoes. Crispy roast potatoes on the side. ”
That actually sounded really good, and now that Lamont wasn’t worried about where Ewen was, his stomach rumbled.
Clicking up a table, too, because the room was basic and the desk was messy, Lamont put it right by the bed so Ewen didn’t have to move, and waved his hand so the food would appear.
Ewen started to smile, and then laugh, but as he was reaching for a hot potato at the same time, Lamont assumed he was still overwhelmed.
He’ll feel better once he’s eaten. Lamont had a bit of processing to do himself. Ewen is actually my mate… That was a positive. At least it meant he hadn’t lied to Coda. That could be handy if Lamont was ever asked about what he did.
I let my mate get abducted… Hmm, that wasn’t going to be as easy to explain. Lamont quickly picked up his knife and fork and then asked, “Did you want a coffee?”
Ewen groaned and Lamont assumed that was a “yes.” He zapped up a coffee pot and a couple of mugs. “How do you take it?”