Hagen, Lynn - Tater's Bear [Brac Pack 22] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (11 page)

The guy looked around frantically and then threw his arms into the air. “Hell if I know.”

“Get down, Oliver!” Blair yelled to the man with piercings. Tater rolled off of D and got to his feet when a vampire jumped on Oliver’s back. He was amazed Oliver could fight so well, but not well enough. The vampire was winning. Tater jumped on the vampire, knocking him free of the pierced man.

“Go!” he shouted as he wrestled with the undead. Before Oliver could run, another man attacked the goth-looking man.

Holy shit!

A large portion of the attackers had shifted into wolves. What in the hell was going on here? Tater screamed when it felt like his neck was being torn from his body. He hit the ground and rolled over and over again, trying to dislodge the one tearing skin from bone.

He rolled to his feet and then fell backward, right on top of the vampire. He heard a yelp, but the fucker wouldn’t release him. Tater’s eyes widened when D bared his fangs and jumped onto Tater, yanking at the vampire still clinging to Tater’s back. “Get him off of me, D!”

“I’m trying,” D said helplessly as he clawed and bit at the undead.

Tater started feeling lightheaded, strange shapes forming in front of his eyes. He pushed to his feet and knew his vision was being affected by the loss of blood. And there was plenty of blood being lost. His entire right side was soaked in his quickly free-flowing blood.

“Get him off—” Tater collapsed in a heap onto the grassy field. His fingers clawed the grass as he tried to get to the bear fighting only twenty or so feet from him.

“I got you.”

Tater whimpered when a blue man with white hair grabbed him under his legs and back, lifting him from the ground. He hadn’t the energy to fight the thing off or the care to wonder how in the hell the man was blue.

He closed his eyes, hoping he wasn’t about to die.

He needed to tell Olsen he was sorry and that he had fallen in love with the bear. Olsen needed to know this. He needed to know that it wasn’t his fault. Olsen needed to be told that Tater had commitment phobia and that Olsen hadn’t caused it.

He needed…

* * * *

Olsen was going nuts trying to get to his mate. He reared up on his back legs and swatted at the vampire, bringing his full body weight down to pin the son of a bitch before locking his jaws on the vampire’s neck and tearing it out. He was trying desperately to get to his mate, but every time he made some progress in Tater’s direction, another rogue got in his way.

Maverick shifted and shouted to Olsen’s brother, “Bryce, go tell your father to call Zeus and Christian.” Before the alpha shifted back, his head fell back onto his shoulders and his voice boomed across the open field. “Panahasi!”

Olsen concentrated on the wolf biting at his hindquarters when suddenly a dozen men emerged from the forest, immediately taking up the fight. Olsen wasn’t sure how the men knew who to kill, but they were dead accurate.

Olsen swung around to attack the wolf at his flank when he saw a blue man appear, scoop Tater up from the ground, and then disappear. He roared his outrage as he clawed and tore at the wolf, his rage consuming him at the thought of someone taking what was his. Olsen tore through the rogues, desperate to find out who the man was that had kidnapped his mate.

He was fighting with blind fury. Olsen no longer felt like himself but a beast unleashed. Tater was missing, and there was no way for him to go after his mate. It didn’t escape his notice that more rogues were appearing.

Olsen had a sinking feeling that not only was his mate in trouble, but that they were losing this battle.

* * * *

Tater felt the fog lifting and his consciousness return. He lay there for a moment, waiting to be attacked, but all was silent. He cracked open his eyes, trying to see his surroundings without anyone knowing he was awake.

“You’re safe, human.”

So much for being sneaky.

He opened his eyes fully to see the blue-skinned man sitting in a window seat, staring out into the darkness. Strangely enough, the man looked melancholy as his eyes scanned for something out of the window.

“Who are you?” Tater asked and then groaned when his head began to pound.

“I am neither good nor bad. I am Ahm.”

What the hell kinda answer was that? Tater wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer with all the events that had taken place in only forty-eight hours. His life had gone from wondering about Olsen’s intentions to a three-ring circus from hell, clowns and popcorn included.

And Tater really hated clowns.

Damn Stephen King and the movie
It
. Every since he had seen that…Wait, what the hell was he thinking about that for? “Where am I?”

Ahm turned his head from his vigilant watch to look Tater over. “You lost too much blood.”

Maybe he was still unconscious and this was just a bizarre ass dream. “That’s not telling me where I am.”

“In a vampire coven.”

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

Why did he have to ask? The way things were going lately, Tater should have known he didn’t want to know the answer. “
Sooo
, how do I get home?” Odd question to ask, considering he didn’t have a home at the moment.

Tater didn’t like the low chuckle Ahm gave him. He didn’t like it one bit. “You will be returned to your bear as soon as you are up to traveling.”

“I’m fine,” Tater protested as he sat up and then quickly fell back, his head swimming and bile rising in the back of his throat. “Okay, maybe not.”

“Rest.”

There wasn’t much else he could do right now. “What happened to me?” He remembered the fighting and being attacked. Tater’s hand went to his neck, and then he winced when he felt the bandage.

Olsen!

“I have to get back.” He made a second attempt at getting up, but the effects were worse this time. This time he actually vomited. Tater held his stomach as he wretched over the side of the bed. His headache became worse as tiny white squiggly lines danced in front of his vision.

“If you attempt to get up again, the sickness will only get worse,” Ahm warned.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” Tater asked as he spit out some vile-tasting spew. He felt bad for upchucking on someone’s floor, but not bad enough since he didn’t want to be here.

“Shall we say you were given a donation?”

“A donation of what?”

“Blood.”

Tater groaned as his head hit the pillow. “Is that why I’m sick?”

“Yes and no.”

“I swear, if you don’t start explaining, I’m gonna sit back up and aim toward you,” Tater threatened as shards of pain pulsed through his brain. He wanted Olsen. As crazy as he had been acting toward the bear, Tater wanted his mate.

Mate.

How strange it was that he thought of Olsen that way now. The word didn’t seem as threatening as he thought it would. He thought of Olsen’s silky black hair and smoky grey eyes, and the pit of his stomach tightened. He wanted his bear.

“I don’t take kindly to threats, human.”

Tater threw his arm over his eyes, the lights hurting them and making his head pound harder. “And I don’t take kindly to having shit done to me while I’m unconscious. Now tell me what the fuck happened.”

“You lost a great amount of blood. I brought you here. Christian fed you before going off to help the shifters,” Ahm said irritably. “Beyond that, you’ll have to ask the prince.”

Prince? Tater sighed. He wasn’t even going to ask. He knew he wouldn’t like the answer anyway. He hadn’t liked any of the answers he had received so far. “Do you know what happened to everyone else?” To Olsen? Tater lay there and thought of the men who had shifted into wolves right before his very eyes, of the men who had hissed, sharp teeth gleaming in the moonlight, and wondered how he had survived. But the bigger question plaguing his mind was had his mate survived?

“Why can’t you just lie there and rest? You ask too many questions,” Ahm groused and then looked back out of the window.

“You would, too, if everything was coming down on you all at once. I don’t think I can take too much more of this shit.” He knew he couldn’t. Tater was this close to cracking. He needed to know what happened to his bear, and he needed to know what was wrong with him. He wanted to cross the room and throttle the blue man. Too bad he experienced extreme vertigo every time he moved.

“Then you don’t belong in our world, in
my
world. If you can’t handle the paranormal, get out of the kitchen, human.”

Was that a joke?

Tater had no humor in him at the moment. He was too worried about his bear. “Fuck you, Ahm.”

This made the blue man laugh, which only irritated Tater even more. “Sorry, you are not lucky enough to have me grace your bed with my presence.”

Fucker.

Chapter Eight

Olsen resorted to boxing the fucking wolf in front of him. The man was stupid enough to shift into human form, arrogance coming off of him in waves.

Olsen was about to show this rogue what real arrogance was all about. They circled each other, Olsen baring his canines, as did the wolf. He waited for the right opportunity and then rushed the wolf, taking him down, shifting mid-fall and tearing the fucker’s throat out.

Olsen backed away and looked around the field at the carnage. He was tired, sore as fuck, and bloody as hell. And he wanted his Tater back. He shifted, staggering a little as he walked over to Maverick. “They took Tater.”

Maverick’s eyes were crimson as he gazed around the field. “He’s safe. Ahm is the one who came to your house to warn us. I don’t know what the elf’s angle is, but Tater is with Christian right now.”

“What the fuck do you mean he’s safe?” Olsen growled. “Take me to him.” He hadn’t one caring bone in his body about how he was speaking to the alpha. This was
his
mate they were discussing. “I want my mate!”

“Ahm!” Maverick shouted.

Olsen wasn’t sure what was going on, but his jaw clenched when he saw the blue man who took his mate appear. Olsen charged him, only to have the man shimmer away and then reappear twenty feet away from him.

“I don’t have time for this bullshit, bear. Do you want to go to your mate or not?” Ahm said with disdain. “I could make you drive there. That would teach you some manners.”

Olsen really didn’t like him. He ran his hands over his head to try and calm down. His eyes widened as Ahm charged him, tackled him to the ground, and then they shimmered away.

“What was that for?” Olsen growled as he pushed the blue man off of him. Ahm merely laughed as he waved at Olsen and then shimmered away.

Olsen rolled onto his hands and knees and then pushed himself up. He looked around the room and then gasped when he saw Tater lying on the bed fitted with silk sheets. Olsen stood there for a moment taking in the sight. His mate was so damn gorgeous. He walked quietly around the bed, noticing how Tater’s lips were slightly parted, his face relaxed. He’d never seen his mate asleep before. When he had claimed Tater, Olsen was the first to fall asleep.

He reached out, running a knuckle down the smooth skin of Tater’s cheek. He leaned forward, laying a gentle kiss on Tater’s lips as he ran his hand over his mate’s head.

“Olsen,” Tater murmured.

His heart rate increased when his mate called out his name in his sleep. It was the sweetest sound Olsen could ever remember hearing. His eyes snapped to the bandage on his mate’s neck. Olsen growled softly as his fingers ghosted over the gauze. How bad was his Tater injured?