Keaton's Lessons [Brac Village 6] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) by Lynn Hagen (portable ebook reader TXT) 📗

He began to pace right along with Kade, feeling trapped and lacking air. God help him, he actually wanted to find a way to defeat that horrible thing outside, to stop it from mentally torturing Kade.

“Don’t look so worried, Keaton.” Kade blocked Keaton’s pacing, placing his hands on Keaton’s upper arms and holding him still. “Help is on the way. I guess for every evil entity there is a warrior. The timber wolves are getting in contact with someone who is an expert at killing those things.”

Keaton leaned into Kade’s embrace, needing desperately to grab hold of something solid and strong. His mate’s hands caressed Keaton’s arms, his touch so tender, so warm. Keaton nestled into Kade, laying his head on the strong shoulder, and hoped that his mate was right. If that thing out there was the cause of Kade’s moodiness, Keaton would gladly go out there and shove a spike through the son of a bitch’s skull.

He had taken the news of shifters and vampires existing in a semi-calm state. Kade was a shifter and he hadn’t attacked Keaton. The town was full of shifters, people he knew and liked. But that hound outside was pure, unadulterated evil. There would be nothing about him to like. There would be nothing about him that made Keaton feel at ease.

Keaton clung to Kade, balancing on the edge of an emotional chasm that he felt like he was falling into. His mind began to open, truly understanding that nature balanced everything out. There weren’t just humans in the world. Nature balanced that out with paranormal creatures. But within those nonhuman creatures was good and evil—just like with humans.

But the paranormal evil was a hell of a lot scarier.

“I swear to you, Keaton. I won’t let anything happen to you. We’ll get through this.” Kade’s thickly chiseled body moved until he had Keaton’s back against the bookcase. “And when that evil bastard is defeated, and these unwelcome emotions are gone,”—Kade leaned in, pressing his lips to Keaton’s ear—“I’m going to claim you and truly make you mine.”

The growled promise made his blood feel alive, as if it were burning through him. Keaton momentarily forgot about the danger they were in as he tilted his head back, gazing up into a handsomely stubbled face. He wanted Kade to take him right here, right now. But a saner part of him leashed a collar around that thought and dragged it back.

They were in a public place, and he was pretty sure having sex in a book aisle would be frowned upon by the people visiting the bookstore. Instead, he curled into the warm circle of Kade’s arms, drawing from the man’s steady, solid strength.

He looked up when Kade nudged him. “I think our help has arrived.”

Keaton turned his head toward the front entrance and inhaled a sharp breath. Two of the roughest-looking men he had ever seen came through the door, their eyes scanning until they landed directly on Keaton. He forced himself not to cringe from the penetrating stare. Why did he have a feeling that tangling with these two would end any man’s life?

They approached as if they owned the place, their strides sure and confident, paying absolutely no attention to the small audience of customers glancing their way.

“You spotted one?” a man with caramel-colored skin and long, thick braids asked Kade. He wasn’t heavy with muscles as Keaton would’ve thought a man fighting a hell escapee would be. His body was tight, lean, and his expression made up for any musculature he lacked. “Name’s Dog.”

What a very strange name.

Kade nodded toward the entrance. “I wasn’t sure what he was until I called the timber wolves. It was like this black, oily feeling came over me, whispering all kinds of pessimistic things in my head.”

The other man asked, “How long have you been hearing this?”

Kade glanced at Keaton. “A few weeks. Ever since I got to town. It was like, as soon as I drove through Brac Village, a heavy blanket settled over me.”

“I need to know,” Dog said, “what would make a hell hound latch on to you. Because once one of them comes after you, you’re their target, period, until we kill him. Provided he hasn’t called in his buddies, you just might be safe once he is sent back to hell.”

Kade’s hands tightened on Keaton’s arms. “I served a long term in prison.”

“That’ll do it,” the other man said. “The hound has zeroed in on your anger and resentment.”

“But I don’t have any anger or resentment,” Kade argued. “I’ve put my past behind me.”

“You lying to yourself doesn’t concern me,” Dog said so matter-of-factly that Keaton was offended. “Now that I know why he is fixated on you, I can go after him.”

“So we can leave?” Keaton asked in hopefulness.

“Yeah, go enjoy the art festival. Don’t let the sweat drip off your balls about having a hell hound after your mate,” the second man said sarcastically.

“What the hell is your problem?” Keaton asked furiously. “Kade didn’t ask that thing to fixate on him. Why are you acting as if this is all our fault?”

“Don’t mind Renato. He has been a sour little puss of late. Go do whatever it is that you two were doing. We’ll follow at a distance and see if we can’t flush out your hound,” Dog said as he and Renato headed toward the door.

Keaton turned toward Kade. “Our hound?”

Kade grabbed Keaton’s hand and pulled him toward the exit. “His bedside manner doesn’t concern us. I wouldn’t have cared if those two had sneered every word, just as long as they do their job.”

Keaton still didn’t like them. They were brisk and curt. But Kade was right. It wasn’t like Keaton was trying to be their pal. Just as long as they got that evil little bastard off of Kade’s back, then he would deal with their sarcasm.

“Well, you heard the man. Let’s get to the art festival.” Keaton pulled on