The Runaway Cat (Book 2 Cloverleah Pack Series) Read online

  Diablo sighed down the phone because damn it, Dick made sense. If his mark disappeared he would probably head offshore and even if the agency found him again they probably wouldn’t be able to touch him. He thought about Griff sleeping totally unaware of what was going on. He knew he could find the man again easily enough, but whether or not he was going to get a pleasant reception from Griff when Diablo did come back was a different story. Still, it was only for two weeks, hopefully Griff would understand eventually.

  Hating himself for what he was about to do, Diablo snarled down the phone. “Two weeks, not a minute more. Then I am gone, this phone is smashed and I swear you will never find me. Not a minute more. I am filing my resignation with the Agency as soon as the office opens in the morning. Do you understand?”

  In his grubby bed miles and miles away Dick sent a word of thanks to any powers on high, “Yeah, Diablo, I get it. You have my word. Two weeks and then you are finished, for good. Now get on the road, your lover boy is looking for you.”

  Diablo snapped his phone shut and stared at the floor for a moment. Fuck what a mess. He thought about his human mark, a slimy piece of trash that Diablo had been pretending to be a lover to for two years. The thought of having to touch the man again made him shudder. Squaring his shoulders, Diablo stood up and softly padded through the bathroom to the bedroom.

  Finding his clothes he quickly got dressed before kneeling down to find Griff’s pants, looking for his wallet. Pulling out the man’s driver’s license he snapped a quick picture of it with his phone, then after a quick debate with himself, he snapped a picture of the sleeping man on the bed. Both pictures looked really dark on the phone but Diablo knew he could enhance them so they were usable once he got back to his base.

  Taking one long last look at his mate, Diablo slipped quietly out the door, down the stairs and out onto the street. Calling a cab he headed for the nearest airport. He would have to leave his bike at Claude’s car park and pray it was there when he got back. Maybe Griff could get it for him? But Diablo knew as he was driven off into the dawn light that his bike was the least of his problems.

  ~~~

  The sun was fully up by the time Griff opened his eyes. He rolled onto his back, the dark wooden beams on the white ceiling reminding him of where he was. Lifting his head up, he scanned the room quickly checking that he was alone. Yep the little cat had scarpered. Griff grinned. That was the nature of a hook up. Just get your rocks off and no long drawn goodbyes. Hmm shame really, Griff thought; I wouldn’t have minded another go at that one. He stretched out feeling a twinge in his muscles that indicated he had been ridden hard and ridden well. All in all, a good night.

  Sitting up, he scooted across the bed to sit with his feet on the floor. He rolled his neck muscles and felt a sharp twinge where Diablo had bitten him. He ran one hand over the wound and smirked. The bite had been deep and Griff knew he had scab marks all through it. His grin got wider. The cat certainly had a set of teeth on him. Griff didn’t mind. He was a shifter and it would heal in the next day or so and in the meantime it would give Griff something to remind himself of the encounter. That and his sore ass.

  Thinking about Diablo Griff became aware of a quiet litany in his head.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  Diablo. What the heck? Griff checked around the room again, but no he was definitely alone. He focused on the voice in his head again and tried to reply.

  Diablo?

  Oh shit, the mate mind connection. Totally forgot about that.

  Diablo. Where are you and what are you doing in my head?

  Oh shit Griff I am so sorry.

  Then Griff could see a whole stack of different images in his head. A replay of what they had done the night before and in particular the fact that Diablo had bitten him as he had climaxed deep inside him.

  You CLAIMED me as a MATE and then you LEFT?

  Griff was roaring through the mind connection and he knew Diablo could feel it. He sniffed at the skin on his arms and his chest. He could smell Diablo on his skin and he groaned as his cock immediately stood to attention. The cat had a unique smell of apricots and spice and it hit Griff’s nose like an instant aphrodisiac. Diablo was Griff’s mate, Griff knew it now, but he had been too drunk the night before to pay any attention to the signals.

  On his plane, Diablo closed his eyes as a barrage of emotions came from his mate, so many miles away. Anger, confusion, arousal and hurt. Mostly hurt. He had to try and make this right.

  Griff, Griff please I am so sorry. Got a code red. I rang my handler and told him no, Griff but he said I had to go. Two weeks he said. Just two weeks more and then I am finished. I promise. I will be back and I want exactly what you want. What we talked about at the bar. Please trust me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, honestly I didn’t.

  Diablo could feel Griff’s anger slowly ebbing away although the hurt remained.

  What do you mean finished? How soon before you flock off on another job?

  Griff’s voice was calm in Diablo’s head now and Diablo felt another pang of shame hit him. Without realizing it from their first conversation Griff had made it plain what he expected with his mate - togetherness and Diablo had just slipped out at dawn like any other casual hookup. Now he was figuring that Diablo’s absence for work was going to be a continual thing and Diablo knew that was not what Griff wanted in a mate. He could make him feel better about that at least.

  I mean I am finished Griff. I faxed in my resignation to the agency this morning before I got on this bloody plane. Once my two weeks are up… I am yours if you’ll have me.

  Sitting on the bed in Claude’s room Griff sighed and rubbed his head. Then he ran his fingers over Diablo’s bite and gave another little smile to himself. He could do two weeks if it meant he could have forever with that handsome cat.

  Okay, but you do realize the first thing I am going to do when I see you is punch you in the face, repeatedly.

  On the plane Diablo smiled for the first time since he left the bedroom. Griff didn’t like the situation but he had accepted it for now and that gave Diablo a sense of peace he didn’t realize he needed.

  I deserve it, I know. In my defense can I suggest you were just so overwhelmingly amazing that I really couldn’t stop myself?

  Crawling now. I like it. One punch, maybe.

  I’ll give you the one, if you just let me know you do want me to come back and stay this time.

  For some reason it was really important for Diablo to know that he did have something permanent to come back to. He held his breath as he waited for Griff to reply. It was a lot to ask someone who he barely knew and Griff had been drunk during their encounter. Shit Griff might not even remember what Diablo looked like. He saw the stewardess heading down the aisle getting people prepared for landing. Diablo felt his gut tighten as the full impact of what he was going to have to do for the next two weeks hit him. He tried to rein in his thoughts because there were some things he did that he was not proud of and he didn’t want to share them with Griff until he could speak with him in person. Then he felt Griff’s words sink into his brain.

  Yeah my little pussy cat. I want you to come back and stay. I’ll be waiting for you. But you had better believe this is the last time you are doing this to me.

  I know, and thank you, you have no idea how much that means right now.

  Where are you headed?

  Baton Rouge, we are just landing now.

  Okay, I will leave your mind in peace. You are FBI so I figure you know how to find me when you are done. Stay safe kitty cat.

  You too Griff.

  On the plane Diablo felt Griff slip from his mind. Now all he had to do was get his head in the game, play his damn role for just two more weeks and then he was going home to Griff. And if anyone got in his way he was going to shoot them.

  Back at Claude’s Griff smiled even though his heart ached. He had gotten brief glimpses of what Diablo had to do while they were chatting and it wasn’t something that
Griff really wanted to think about too seriously. But he had felt a lot of genuine emotion too. Diablo hadn’t wanted to leave and he obviously did not want to play the undercover role he had to do. But the man had a job to do and Griff understood that much at least.

  Thinking of work, he had a job as well. Griff got dressed quickly, not bothering to shower. He wanted to smell of Diablo just a little bit longer. He found his wallet and flicking it open, he sniffed. Yep, his cat knew how to find him. Snagging the card key for the room from the floor where they had left it, Griff strolled out of the room and down the stairs of the now empty club. He spotted Claude over by the bar talking to a delivery man. Claude waved him over when he saw him.

  “Hey Griff, did you have a good night.” Claude had a huge grin on his handsome face. The man really loved to gossip.

  “It had its moments.” Griff would give him that at least. He handed Claude the key. “Kane wanted me to drop this off for him. He and Shawn left a little early and…well you know how those two are.”

  “Yep, kinda makes me jealous. By the way what happened to the man you were with. Did he slip out early or something?”

  “He had some stuff to do apparently. Why?”

  Claude frowned for a moment. “Oh nothing really except his bike is in the yard out the back. I just wondered how long it is going to be there. Not that it is in the way or anything.”

  Griff thought quickly and grinned. That little cat would come back one way or the other.

  “Thanks for reminding me. Yeah he asked me if I could take the bike back with me. He wants the boys to have a look at it and he said he would pick it up from me when he gets back. I’ve got the truck so I will take it on that.”

  “Way to get a second date aye Griff.” Laughing Claude slapped him on the back and headed back into the bar.

  Something like that Griff thought to himself as he went out to the parking lot. There among the Harleys that Claude and his patrons seem to prefer was a sleek looking Ducati SportTouring ST4s. Griff went over for a closer look. Nice bike, Griff figured a 2005 model with ABS. The bike looked well used and as Griff stood by the seat he could smell the faint scent of Diablo coming from the leather. Grabbing the handlebars, Griff rocked the bike off of its stand and wheeled it over to Kane’s Custom Rides business truck.

  As he busied himself getting the bike loaded and tied down he couldn’t stop smiling. Most times when the boys went out they either took their bikes, or travelled in one of the many SUV’s they owned. But for some reason Kane had decided to take them out in the work truck and now Griff was glad of it. Must have been fate after all. Checking the tie downs on the bike one last time, Griff hopped into the drivers’ seat and carefully eased the truck onto the road. He would head straight to work and ask Scott or Troy to check the bike over - it obviously did a lot of miles and the guys could do any repairs it might need. And then he would store it at his place and wait for the owner to return. Humming to himself Griff headed for Custom Rides in Cloverleah.

  Chapter Four

  Seven days in and Diablo wished he had just stayed with Griff and to hell with his job. He had managed to stay away from his mark, Georgio for three days claiming he had caught the flu, which was a joke really because shifters did not get sick as a rule. Then Georgio had to go off on business for another three days which suited Diablo perfectly although he did not dare take off and find Griff. He knew if he saw his mate again he would never want to leave him. But by the seventh day Diablo knew his luck had run out and when Georgio had rung him and told him he was sending a car for him he reluctantly got himself dressed for his role.

  Looking down at his tight leather pants and silver streaked tight black top Diablo felt disgusted in himself. Sighing he put on his boots and then reached into a leather case that sat on his dresser. In his hands was an inch wide diamond studded white gold necklace. His collar. Georgio had locked it around his neck about six months ago and he had no idea that Diablo could take it off at will. Diablo only ever wore it when he saw he so-called lover and took it off as soon as he was alone. He absolutely hated it.

  Fastening it around his neck Diablo braided his hair so it hung down his back. Georgio liked to see his face and it had taken Diablo years of training to keep the disgust he felt hidden from this mark, and the others he had before. God in reality he knew he was nothing more than an agency whore and although he managed to cope with the whole situation purely because he knew he always did a good job and got the information that put bad guys away, since he had met Griff he really felt sick about what he had to do to get that job done.

  Picking up his phone, Diablo looked at the photo he had snapped of Griff the night he left, now enhanced so it was a lot clearer. His finger gently traced the fine lines of the man’s handsome face and for just a minute Diablo allowed himself to wallow in the memories of that one night, and the mind conversation that came afterwards. Then with a deep breath he moved the screen back to the home screen and turned the phone off, hiding it under his clothes in his dresser drawer. Flexing his shoulders he strode out of his room and down to the car waiting below.

  God the club was noisy. People everywhere, music thumping and inane chatter going on all around him. Diablo was not a fan of the clubs Georgio seemed to prefer but he supposed in one respect the noise meant that he didn’t have to say a lot. His job, according to Georgio was to stay by his side, looking pretty and devoted while his mark got on with the huge amount of business he managed to conduct in all of the organized chaos. Tonight they were at Georgio’s own club, ‘The Lucky Kitty’ so at least they had a private table and Diablo could sit down.

  Normally Diablo would use his cat senses to listen in on the conversations and pick up the tips and information that would lead to this guy’s arrest. But tonight it was really hard to even fake interest. He was bored and he missed Griff. Damn he missed that man with a hunger that bordered on obsession. Must be the whole mate link thing. He sat by his mark’s side and stared out unseeingly across the heads of the many club members wishing he was with his mate.

  So engrossed in his thoughts he didn’t notice that Georgio had spoken to him until he felt an unwelcome hand run up his thigh. Immediately schooling his face into a small smile, he looked over to his mark, placing his hand on top of the one on his leg. “I’m sorry, did you need anything?” His voice quiet and deliberately submissive. He knew his role even if he hated it.

  “You are so quiet tonight. I thought you would be happier to see me after so long, ha?”

  Crap, crap, crap. What to say that would please the idiot but not sound like a sexual turn on. Georgio’s hand was burning on his leg and Diablo could feel his skin crawl. Sighing, he turned the man’s hand over into his and delicately traced the lines on the man’s upturned palm.

  “Of course I am happy to see you, no? I…er…it is just so hot in here and I think that flu I had is still lingering in my system. I am so sorry I am not being your happy angel tonight.” Keeping his voice low and sweet he gave a small smile at the mark and prayed like crazy the man bought it.

  Georgio appeared mollified. He bought his fingers up to touch Diablo’s lips, running his thumb lightly over them.

  “Of course I understand, precious one. Give me just a half an hour more and then we will pop out the back for one of your specialty blow jobs and then I will have the car take you home. Does that suit you?” The man’s voice might have been trying to imitate saccharin but the order was clear enough.

  Diablo smiled softly at him, “Thank you Georgio, you are so understanding.”

  Georgio leaned in closer. “I want you well enough for my party on Saturday, no? So tomorrow you rest well and then go out and buy yourself something real nice to wear. You know what I like.” With that the man moved back to talk to his colleagues leaving Diablo to work out how the hell he was going to give the man a blow job when he couldn’t stand his touch at all.

  Diablo knew he was lucky with Georgio in one respect. The man had no feelings for others an
d didn’t care that in two years Diablo had never felt one ounce of sexual feeling towards him. Georgio was intrigued by Diablo’s virgin ass and had said on more than one occasion that he would love the opportunity to be the first. So far Diablo had been able to put him off as even before Griff he had never been able to get a hard on for Georgio and that might be noticeable if he took his pants off. As it was Georgio simply insisted that Diablo service him with either mouth or hand depending on the mood he was in.

  The couple of times Georgio had actually got physical with Diablo, kissing him and starting to try and make him feel something, Diablo was able to use the pressure point on Georgio’s neck to knock him out, which Georgio then blamed on the alcohol he had drunk as the cause. Diablo would also let Georgio know what an amazing time they had together before Georgio had passed out as the stupid man could never remember anything if he had drunk too much. He had such a big ego it never occurred to him that in almost two years Diablo had never felt remotely aroused by him at all.

  There was no way Diablo was going to be able to give a blow job tonight without a drink and he ordered a couple of doubles from a passing waitress. Sculling them down, he ordered another two hoping like crazy to feel the same type of buzz that Griff had. Diablo barely ever drank when he was with Georgio. He always needed his wits about him to collect evidence and information in his head that he would write down in code and then pass on to his handler at their irregular meetings. But tonight he wanted to feel anything except the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

  Okay, that was not a good idea. Now he felt even more nauseous. He would have to have a talk to Griff at a later stage about his buzz from alcohol theory. He shook his head and gave himself a stern talking to. He was a gay cat shifter. Since he started at the agency he had given more blow jobs to strangers and marks than he could count. He could do one more. The trick - do it as skillfully as possible so it was over in the quickest time possible.