Chapter 4 #2
They talked a bit more about the island and the leadership, but Hank sensed he would get no further with the brothers that night.
The shots kept coming, and though it took a lot to get a shifter drunk, Hank was well on his way by the time midnight rolled around.
The brothers were probably deliberately trying to get him drunk, as some kind of interrogation technique, but Hank didn’t really mind.
Everything he’d told them about the island and Mark’s offer was one hundred percent truthful, so there were no secrets to spill, even if they did manage to question him under the influence.
The brothers were matching him drink for drink, though. So, they were all pretty much hammered at one point in the evening. That’s when Hank let a few incautious words pique the brothers’ interest, much to his dismay once he sobered up.
Somehow, the twins had gotten the whole sorry story about Tracy out of him while he was drowning his sorrows.
He thought maybe he’d even started whining at one point about the unfairness of it all.
And he clearly remembered blaming the brothers and their stubborn refusal to cooperate with Hank’s mission for delaying him in getting back to his daughter and the woman who was, more than likely, his mate.
Hank had a hangover for the first time in years the next morning when he woke, and all of it came back to him in a split second.
He hung his head and growled low at the depths to which he had sunk in the night.
He probably had a bit of apologizing to do this morning, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. Not with the way his head was pounding.
Water. He needed a lot of water to fight the dehydration shriveling his brain. And a shower. He could smell the tequila and smoke on his clothes, and it made him want to retch. But his stomach stayed steady. Thank the Goddess for small mercies.
He stumbled his way to the bathroom and took a long shower, only coming out when he felt a little better. It took a while.
Hank wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the connecting door into the larger section of his hotel room to find he had uninvited company. Pax and Ari were sprawled in the two armchairs by the window, looking casual, with duffel bags at their sides.
Shit.
They were either planning to kill him and stuff his body in the bags—in pieces. Or, they were heading out on a mission, and he’d missed his chance to recruit them to the jaguar cause this time. Either prospect wasn’t a happy one.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, trying to sound casual as he entered the hotel room and began rifling through his own pilot’s case, looking for clean underwear.
“Yeah. With you,” Pax answered in a brisk tone. It was his words more than the tone that shocked Hank into looking at the man. He was grinning like the cat inside him had just caught a tasty morsel after a long and pleasant hunt.
“Seriously?” Hank had to be sure they weren’t just teasing him. And his head was still pounding a little after the night they’d had. “You want me to fly you to the island?”
“Yeah,” Ari answered for them both, placing his feet up on the edge of the bed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “Eventually.”
“First,” Pax copied his brother’s stretched out pose, “we’re going with you to Texas. No sense in letting you take on a whole werewolf Pack by yourself. You need us for backup.”
“I do?” Hank didn’t know whether to be alarmed, amused or just astounded by their presumption.
Both men were nodding at him. “Yes, boy-o, you definitely need our help,” Ari said.
“Most definitely.” Pax backed him up.
Hank wasn’t exactly sure how it all happened but they were airborne within the hour, heading back to Texas.
He also wasn’t sure how the wolf Pack was going to feel about the incoming jaguar invasion, but he realized he had little choice in the matter.
Cats were arbitrary creatures sometimes, and it seemed the twins had taken an interest in Hank’s tale of woe.
Pax stretched out in the back of the plane while Ari surprised Hank by wanting to sit in the co-pilot’s seat.
What followed was an hour of flying where Hank fell into the role of flight instructor.
It turned out that Ari had always had an interest in learning to fly and had, in fact, done a number of training sessions at a local airport in Arizona, but flying lessons were expensive, and most of the twins’ money went back to the Clan, to help support the younger and less experienced members of their extended family.
Hank didn’t mind showing Ari the attributes of the plane.
Teaching other members of the Clan to fly was one of his more enjoyable hobbies.
It seemed many jaguars had a fascination with flight, and many of the younger members of the Clan living on Jaguar Island could fly multiple craft—both fixed wing and helicopters.
Of course, Hank was aware that Ari could be setting him up.
The cunning cat could be playing a totally different game, and Hank might wake up tomorrow morning to find the twins had stolen the jet out from under him.
He hoped not. But, really, it would be better to know, now—before they got closer to the island—if he could trust them or not, so Hank didn’t see the harm in using this opportunity as a little test. He was a cat too, and cats liked playing games.
There would be many more tests before these cats—more dangerous predators than even most of their fellow jaguars—would be allowed to join the bigger Clan.
Hank knew Mark had weighed the options carefully, calculating that the risk of inviting them into the heart of their new territory could pay off big in the end.
If they weren’t trustworthy, the isolation of the island and the fact that all the Clan’s best hunters had been called back to be there while the brothers toured the island would play in their favor. Or so Mark hoped.
Frankly, having reacquainted himself with these two guys and gotten to know them a bit, Hank wasn’t so sure even their best could take them on and win.
The twins had one thing to their advantage that most jaguars did not.
They hunted as a pair. Always. Had from the day they’d been born.
That was different from the usual solitary stalk most jaguars preferred, and it was the twins’ edge.
It was part of what made them a very lethal team that had a reputation for always getting the job done, no matter how bleak the odds.
Hank just had to hope Mark knew what he was doing.
Hank’s report, which was as detailed as he could make it, highlighted the twins’ unique abilities.
He knew Mark, and especially Nick, would take it to heart and make preparations before they arrived at the island.
The stopover in Texas was actually a really good thing, giving the Clan more time to prepare their welcome for the twin jaguars.
Hank had told Mark about Tracy and Emma when he’d called in this morning to report his success in getting the brothers to agree to a visit.
Mark had graciously told Hank to stay in Texas for a few days, to try to set things right there.
He’d also said he would begin the routine background checks for Tracy that would allow her clearance to visit the island.
If she passed—which Mark thought a reasonable assumption—then he suggested that Hank try to get her to visit at the same time, if at all possible.
Two birds, one stone, he’d said, though he’d amended it to be four birds, or maybe three and a half since Emma was so small.
Mark’s sense of humor had gotten decidedly silly since his mating.
He seemed to find joy in small things, and Hank was as pleased as the rest of the Clan to see it.
Mark had been alone a long time, and a mated Alpha was better for everyone.
Plus, Mark’s mate was as special as he was.
She was an architect who was single-handedly designing the most amazing buildings for the island.
She had a real gift, and the entire Clan was benefiting from her artistic vision.
She was nice, too. Open-hearted. Even if she was a bit of a mage.
She was good for Mark, and good for the Clan, and Hank liked her.
He almost envied the couple their happiness and had thought wistfully a time or two about finding a mate to settle down with, but had never pursued the thought any further.
Now, of course, everything had changed. He had a child. And a potential mate. But nothing was easy. This was no fairytale meeting and mating, with birds singing and unicorns dancing in the background. No, this was gritty and laced with betrayal.
She should have told him. Dammit. She really should have told him.
“Hey man, you hold that stick any tighter, you’re going to break it off, and I think we need that to land.” Ari’s voice came to him in the close confines of the cockpit. Damn. He’d let his mind wander down dark paths. Again.
“Shit.” Hank eased up on the knob he’d been gripping. Crushing, in fact. It was a little deformed, but at least it was still intact. For the most part. He wiped one palm over his face and tried to regroup. “Sorry. Thinking too much, I guess.”
“No sweat. Just… We’re here for you, man. We’ll back you up with your woman and the little one. Every jaguar is precious, from the littlest to the biggest. We’ll help you, if you need us.”
Help him? Do what? Abduct his child? The thought was abhorrent.
He didn’t want to steal his daughter from Tracy.
He wanted… Well, he didn’t know what he wanted, exactly, except to be part of their lives.
Emma’s and Tracy’s. Still, it was nice to know he wouldn’t be the only grown cat among the dogs, this time.
Because, this time, the wolves knew all about him, and he’d bet some of them might be howling for blood.