The Spur of the Platypus (2 page)

“We’re going to war, Reese.” Prescott felt the need to point that out again.

Leif nodded. “And like us, you’ll need someone to come home to at the end of the night and see that it’s all worth it. Someone to care for and be cared for by that person.”

Prescott scrubbed a hand over his face. “I have that. I have all of you.”

Reese shook his head. “You look out for all of us, even now. It’s time you have someone for your own, a partner. Someone to care about more than a brother.”

“I don’t have time for any of this. I have to...” Prescott groaned.

“Live,” Julius interrupted. “You need to live, Prescott. We all have mates now. You don’t need to stay awake all night worrying you’re going to lose one of us.”

Prescott’s heart was hammering at the thought. They knew him so damn well. He just couldn’t let go of years of worrying, especially now.

“I don’t know if I can,” Prescott choked out.

They were interrupted when Kalder, Wilder and Boone came over. Boone adjusted his cowboy hat as he came and sat down behind Julius while Kalder sat next to Reese. Wilder’s scorpion’s tail swished as he straddled and gathered Leif in front of him as he sat. Prescott stared at the worry on each of his friends’ faces. Their mates were about to go out and fight, possibly be harmed or killed, and they were forced to stay behind.

“Kalder...” Reese began.

Kalder cut Reese off. “I’m leaving Tristan in charge. I need you to help him look after the little ones. We’re heading out in five minutes.”

Prescott was shocked. “Tristan’s not fighting?”

Tristan was a damn good fighter. Even as anti-venom, his aim with a cross bow and machete easily outmatched all the venom he encountered.

Tristan crossed his arms. “I’m needed here to protect the little ones and anti-venom. If something goes wrong, we need to move fast.”

There was a lot that was unsaid there. Tristan gazed off into the distance, and Prescott followed the line of sight. Of course, Tristan would be looking at Cash. The blue ring octopus was a sight to behold; a perfect body with the blue rings covering his flesh and the blue eyes to match. He was coveted by Pacific leader, Reef. The question always hung over everyone’s head if Reef knew the whereabouts of Cash after he fled Pacific Territory. Prescott didn’t say anything, but he bet money the leader did. That’s why he was ruthless in taking over as many areas as he could: to get to his prize. Reef was fucking psychotic.

The hunt also caused a rift between Tristan and Cash. Everyone knew they were mates, but the two kept as much distance from each other as possible. Even now, Prescott could see the longing in Tristan’s eyes as he stared at Cash. There was also worry there because Cash would be going into Mission with the rest of the venom to fight.

Prescott noticed the unease flow through his friends and their mates.

This was the first time Prescott heard anything like this. Staring at Kalder, he asked, “Do you trust the platypuses?”

Kalder’s forked tongue flicked out, and he hissed before answering. “It’s hard for me to trust when my own territory turned on me and my men. I trust them, but I trust Tristan more to get everyone to safety if something goes wrong.”

“You think something will go wrong?” Reese turned and stared at Kalder.

“I’m making sure we’re cautious. I trust Boone and am beginning to trust Striker. They vouch for the platypuses.”

Prescott could see the unease in the king cobra. Kalder’s hood was beginning to show itself even though there was no present danger. The cobra’s mind must be running over the possibilities of what could go bad. That did not put Prescott’s mind at ease in the least.

A presence behind him had Prescott whipping around and throwing a punch instinctively, only to see that Flex was standing just inches away from his flying fist. Flex chuckled, and one side of his mouth pulled into a smile.
Dammit. Put away the fucking dimple!

“Don’t come up behind me.”

Flex quirked his finger at Prescott, and Prescott leaned in. Fuck, he didn’t even think to resist as he smelled the fresh scent of ocean water coming off the man.

Flex whispered in his ear, “I’ll be coming behind you over and over...”

Prescott pushed the platypus away. “That was just terrible. I mean really?”

Flex laughed. “But it got a rise out of you. Come with me for a minute.”

“No.” Prescott didn’t want to go anywhere with Flex. The platypus confused him too damn much, and if they were one on one...well, even he was smart enough to know he couldn’t trust himself.

Flex turned, and there was a hell of a lot of fire in those brown eyes. “It’ll only take a minute. I’m showing you where we will be housing everyone. I’m giving you the grand tour.” Flex waved his arms toward what appeared to be an abandoned building.

Prescott stared at Flex. Truth be told, he was fucking terrified of being alone with Flex. For the first time in his life, he didn’t feel in control of himself. His desire and mind were having one hell of a battle inside him, and his mind was losing fast.

“Okay.”

Flex reached out and grabbed his hand, and Prescott jumped at the warm touch. Holding someone’s hand shouldn’t affect someone that much, but it did. Straightening his spine, holding his head up, Prescott tried to give the perception that he was in total control when, inside, he was a mess.

Flex guided him up the beach and into the building. When he got inside, he was shocked to see all the worn but nice furniture. The place was homey and lived in. Kids ran by, and there were even toys that had survived all these years after the venom dropped.
How?

Colorful blocks, cars and houses for dolls were out in the open as platypus children played. There were already bee and wasp kids in the mix, playing and having a blast.

“Where did you get those?” Prescott pointed to the toys.

“They’ve been passed down from generation to generation. When the venom dropped seventy-five years ago, there were a lot of kids that were mutated by the platypus venom. I know the stories say a lot of the kids didn’t survive the venom being released, but we had quite a few platypuses. My great-grandfather was one of them. He was ten when the venom dropped. Believe it or not, I’m fourth generation post-venom. My parents and grandparents mated young.” Flex led them down a hallway.

“How old are you?” Prescott was trying to put the numbers in his head, and wow, Flex had to be young.

“Twenty-four. My dad is forty-four, and my grandpa would have been sixty-five this year but passed away two summers ago.” For the first time, Prescott saw Flex frown. It showed the platypus really cared for his family.

“So, was your dad on the beach?” Prescott wondered.

“No, our numbers were getting too high, and we were getting to a point where we could no longer hide. He moved with a group a mile down the beach.” Flex opened a door. “Your living quarters.”

The room was small and cozy with a pile of blankets in the corner for a makeshift bed. It was perfect really, and Prescott was exhausted from the journey. Down the hallway, Prescott heard familiar voices and followed them to see that each of his friends were getting rooms and being taken care of.

“Go on in and rest for a bit. We’ll have dinner ready when you wake up.” Flex all but pushed him inside.

“I...I want to fight, Flex.” Prescott turned and faced Flex.

“No,” Flex said bluntly.

“Why? What the hell does it matter to you anyway?” Even as he asked the question, he had a feeling he already knew the answer.

“You matter to me, and I’m not letting you run into a fight when no one knows what the fuck is on the other side.” Flex stalked toward him, and Prescott held his ground until he was staring up at Flex.

“We just met. You can’t possibly say I matter to you. You don’t know me. Plus, if you did, you would know that I can handle my own.”

“Look, I know in here,” Flex thumped his chest with his fist a couple times, “that you’re more. Would it be so bad to bow out of this fight so I know that we can discover these feelings another day? And when we have the time, you can show me how well you fight, but right now, you’ll be staying here.” Flex blew out a breath. “Humor me this one time. I need you to stay.” Flex said the last part softly.

“I don’t get you. We’re nothing alike. You’re...” Prescott had no words to describe Flex. Hell, he didn’t know the guy yet. He tried to walk away, but Flex grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer.

Flex leaned down and brushed those beautiful lips on the shell of Prescott’s ear, sending a chill all over his body. “And staying this one time, you’ll have all the time in the world to get to know me. See what we have in common or find out how much we might like our differences.”

Prescott breathed in Flex’s scent, and already—even as an anti-venom—he knew his friends were right. Nature was pulling him toward Flex. God, this was crazy.

“Now, get some rest.” Flex sucked on his lobe before he pulled away and left the room.

Prescott was rooted to his spot. He was so damn confused. Turning, he longingly gazed at the pallet before he slid down on top of the warm blankets. Sighing, he let all the tension release, and in a moment, he felt the exhaustion of the days of traveling take its toll. Closing his eyes, he let sleep take him.

Prescott woke up stiff and aching. He had to have been asleep for hours. Slowly getting up, he made his way out to the open area where Prescott could see everyone was sitting down eating a late meal.

Reese waved him over. “I was about to come get you. You’ve been asleep for five hours now.”

“I have?” Prescott sat down and rubbed his face. He glanced around and didn’t see any signs of Flex. He shouldn’t be looking for the platypus, but he was. He should face facts but...

“Where’s Flex?” Prescott asked, cutting off his own thoughts. He didn’t want to think about it at the moment. Everything was moving too fast.

Reese pursed his lips.

“What?” Prescott could read his friend like an open book. The man had bad news written all over his face.

“Flex left,” Reese said quietly.

“Left where?”

Reese blew out a breath before he answered. “To go fight.”

“What!” Prescott shouted, all eyes turning toward him.

“Prescott—” Reese began.

“No. That damn platypus convinces our leaders to keep me behind and then goes off to fight. What...the...hell?” Prescott’s inner rage was growing by leaps and bounds. Leif and Tristan came over.

“Prescott, they need all the help they can get. And I need your help.” Tristan stood close so that his voice could only be heard by Prescott.

Prescott tried to listen to reasoning. Tristan was right, but Prescott couldn’t help but feel he had been wronged somehow by Flex. Flex never told him he was going to fight, but at the same time, they weren’t together. Flex didn’t have to tell him shit. However, Flex did put a halt to him fighting. Fuck, did the platypus have him tied into knots. He was scared out of his mind that something would happen to Flex, and they hadn’t even gotten to know each other. A real sense of panic washed over him as he sat back down and covered his face. He didn’t want his friends to see him vulnerable. He was the rock of the group.

“I...” Prescott let out a humorless laugh. “I have no fucking clue.”

Reese came over and wrapped his arms around him. “Nothing can prepare you for what you’re going through. Being mated to a venom has a way of confusing anyone.”

“I hate being out of control,” Prescott muffled out.

“I know, and mating a venom is anything but control.” Reese leaned his head on Prescott’s shoulder.

“I don’t even know the cocky asshole, and I’m fucking terrified I’m never going to see him again. I’m soooo... pissed he just left.” Prescott gritted out the last part as his entire body started to shake.

“You can tell him that when he comes back.” Reese nudged him in the side.

Prescott glanced up. “What if...”

Reese held up a hand. “Nope, you’ll see Flex again. Even I know the platypus wouldn’t let you down.”

“He better not. I’m going to chew him out.”

Reese chuckled. “I bet he’d like that.”

“So far, he seems to.” Prescott’s breath hitched. So far...yeah, that about summed it up. He wasn’t even for sure since they barely had ten minutes to each other. “Hell.” Prescott rigorously brushed his hand over his hair.

“Come eat.” Reese pulled back and tried to pull him toward the table of food.

“I don’t think I can.” Prescott rubbed his stomach. He felt queasy and ill at ease, wondering if the venoms had already gotten to Mission Territory.

“Get some food. It’s going to be a long couple days.” Reese pulled him toward the table, and the whole time, Prescott wondered how in the hell he was going to get through these next couple days fearing the worst.

Later that night, Prescott woke to the sound of screaming and rushed footsteps. Rushing off the pallet, knife in hand, he grabbed a hold of his machete by the door before he hurried out into the main room. In the middle were several rattler venom who were squaring off against Tristan and several platypuses. Prescott stepped toward the group when one of the snakes struck out with his tail, sweeping a platypus off his feet. All hell broke loose as Prescott jumped into the fight.

Lifting his machete, Prescott swung and struck the rattlers tail, slicing it clean off. A horrific sound came from the snake before it rounded on him with his fangs. Before he had a chance to defend himself, a platypus jumped in front of him and stabbed the snake.

“Stay behind me, or Flex will kick my ass!” the platypus shouted before he went after another snake.

Prescott tag-teamed and helped the platypus out. In his peripheral vision, Prescott could tell the platypus was pissed about it, but when the snake had the platypus pinned, Prescott pounced on the back of the snake, stabbing it until the life left the rattler.

The platypus appeared shocked as he pushed the snake off him. “Thank you,” he rasped as Prescott helped him up.

Staring over his shoulder, he could see the small group of rattlers were taken down. Tristan was taking the last one out when the platypus next to him clapped him on the shoulder.