“We can take him with us,” Rafe said, scrubbing his hands down his jaw and staring at Berto.
“We could shoot him,” Marten said.
A deep grumble shook the oceandog’s thick body.
“Or maybe not,” Marten said.
Rafe glared at Marten, letting his arms fall to his sides. “I already told you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Berto said. “No shooting the damned thing.” Berto pointed at the oceandog, one fingered. “You’re a damned lucky animal. Rafe’s a sucker for a lost cause.”
“Asshole,” Rafe muttered. “That’s not true.”
He took a breath and gritted his teeth and edged his hand out toward the oceandog’s shoulder and spoke firmly. “If you bite my hand off, I’m going to let them shoot you. Might shoot you myself.”
The oceandog growled.
Rafe jerked his hand back.
The oceandog made another sound, different than before, the low pitch irritating Rafe’s eardrums.
“Is that damn thing laughing at me?” he asked over his shoulder.
Wicker looked back with something like awe on her face. “By all that’s holy, I think he is.”
“I have a bad feeling about this,” Berto said. He took a step back, as if he wasn’t already the furthest from the wheeler’s open door. “Maybe if he decides to eat you first, that’ll slow him down long enough for me to crawl up the winch and use the minicomm to call for help.”
“You’re an idiot,” Wicker said to Berto. “We all know you wouldn’t leave Rafe to die.”
“Since we all know if that thing decides it wants to eat us, none of us has a chance, I’m good with letting it get to Rafe first.”
Marten shook his head. “Something’s not right. I might not have much magic but what I’ve got’s oozing out of me like a bad case of the shits.”
Rafe eyed Marten and Marten shrugged.
“Can’t explain it,” Marten said.
“Me either,” Rafe said, “but I know what you mean.”
“No magic at all,” Berto said, “so I can’t relate.”
“Me either,” Wicker said.
Rafe glanced across to Aiden and Charlie, but they were laughing about something—probably Rafe and his problem—and eating their lunch.
The oceandog yawned again, then buried its head in the four legs stretched out in front of it and closed its eyes.
Berto slapped Rafe on the shoulder. “The damn thing’s going back to sleep. We’ll never get out of here.”
The oceandog’s head rose, his eyes fixed on Berto with startling intensity.
Berto cleared his throat. “Easy there now.”
Rafe rubbed his shoulder and stared at the animal taking up the biggest part of the wheeler’s passenger compartment. He could see only a couple of options, and every one of them made him want to piss himself.
“All right now,” he said. “I’m going in.”
That tore Berto’s nervous gaze off the oceandog. His eyebrows pinched tight over his eyes. “Can’t see that being a good idea.”
“Well, we can’t stand here any longer waiting for something that isn’t going to happen. It’s not coming out, so I’m going in.”
The oceandog finally swung its heavy head around to Rafe and Rafe was finally able to let out his pent up breath. He hadn’t liked the way the animal kept staring at Berto, like it was trying to decide which of Berto’s limbs might be tastiest.
Shit.
“Here,” Wicker said, abandoning her place beside Berto to move to Rafe’s side. She reached out toward Rafe and the oceandog’s eyes snapped toward her.
She hesitated but then reached for Rafe anyway.
The oceandog jumped up onto his legs and let loose a menacing sound pitched so high that pain pierced straight from Rafe’s eardrums to the base of his spine.
He slapped his hands over his ears.
Wicker and Marten did the same, while Berto cursed and jabbed his fingers into his ears.
“Stop that!” Rafe snapped at the oceandog.
The oceandog whimpered, plopped back on its rear, stretched its legs out, and used those wide, sad eyes to stare straight into Rafe’s too-soft heart.
“Oh now that’s a joke,” Rafe muttered. “I didn’t hurt your feelings, so stop acting like I did.”
The oceandog huffed at Rafe, settling its jowls on its two frontmost legs, and looked up from under its heavy brow.
That was the moment Rafe’s stomach growled.
He stared at the oceandog. Decision time had come.
It was his stubborn nature that decided him. Damned if he was going to do without after giving this damned oceandog every bite of food he had.
“I mean it, I’m going in. I’ll sit in the back with it. It seems to like me okay. You guys can squeeze in together up front. Drop me at home and I’ll see if I can get it to follow me out of the wheeler.”
“I don’t think so,” Berto said.
The oceandog lifted its head. Rafe put himself between the oceandog and Berto.
Berto shoved him aside.
The oceandog started up a low grumble again, but Rafe jabbed his finger toward the animal. “Don’t. You’re not taking a single bite out of this asshole.”
Berto scowled.
The oceandog humphed and lowered its head again.
“We can’t get in there with that thing,” Marten said.
Berto stared Rafe down. “And you’re definitely not getting in there.”
Rafe tried to shove Berto toward the front of the wheeler, but Berto wasn’t any easier to move than the oceandog. Rafe let out a frustrated exhale. “Somebody’s got to drive. You planning to stay here?”
Berto crossed his arms. “Maybe I will.” He glanced toward Aiden and Charlie, who looked on with wide smiles as they ate crusted bread sandwiches, thick with sliced meat and fruit.
Rafe’s stomach growled again.
Assholes.
A low whine pulled Rafe’s attention back to the oceandog just as it looked up at Rafe with those sad eyes again, looking so docile Rafe had trouble believing his own eyes.
“Maybe we should all catch a ride with them,” Berto continued. “Charlie isn’t so bad.”
“Aiden is an asshole.” Rafe looked toward Aiden. “Yeah, you heard me!”
Aiden made a rude gesture and laughed.
Rafe’s temper riled. He shoved aside all caution and climbed through the wheeler’s door before anyone could stop him. He sat down across from the oceandog, his back to the front seat, and crossed his arms, eyes locked in a battle of wills with the oceandog.
“Let’s go, Berto,” Rafe snapped. “You think I’m letting anybody else drive what’s half mine, you’ve lost what little sense you’ve got.”
“Asshole,” Berto said. “Someday I’m going to fix that mouth of yours for you.”
Wicker laughed. “Your brother learned everything he knows from you. You won’t do anything but keep bitching at him, same as always.”
Berto scowled, but he squeezed into the front of the wheeler beside the controls.
Rafe tried not to grin. Wicker knew Berto better than most and she was right. Berto might be an asshole sometimes, but he hadn’t been a bad fella to have for an older brother.
“Ah well,” Wicker said. “Guess I better climb in too and protect my man from the monster spawn.”
Rafe snorted. Berto and Wicker had been sleeping together for the last few months and if Rafe had it right, they’d probably be sleeping together for the foreseeable future. Rafe didn’t mind so much, except when it came time to sleep and he had to listen to them fucking through the thin walls in their shared apartment. Berto liked it loud and Wicker wasn’t shy about accommodating him.
A sudden warm weight pressed against Rafe’s thigh, startling Rafe so badly that he barely stopped himself from yelping. The oceandog rolled its thick jowl across Rafe’s lap, never taking its eyes off Rafe’s face.
A strange sensation crawled along Rafe’s nerve-endings, almost like the low hum of an electrical current.
His cock twitched to life. Rafe sucked in his breath and shoved at the oceandog’s head.
The oceandog whined, low and soft, and plopped its head right back in place.
Wicker’s voice echoed from the front of the wheeler, “Holy shit, Rafe. That thing’s going to eat your dick if you don’t watch yourself.”
Rafe had to clear his throat to speak. “Not as far-fetched an idea as I’d like.”
Wicker frowned at him over her shoulder. “You sure you’re going to be okay back there?”
“Not sure at all,” Rafe muttered, but then added, aiming his words toward the door where Marten stood, “Get in the damn wheeler, by all that’s holy. The less time I spend back here with this thing, the better.”
“Dumb shit,” Marten muttered.
Berto threw a dark look toward Marten. Marten glared right back.
“Just get in,” Rafe said, shaking his head.
The entire wheeler jostled as Marten climbed through the passenger’s door, squeezing in beside Wicker into a space much too small for his broad shoulders.
Rafe realized the oceandog was looking up at him with those big round eyes, and he swallowed and shifted on the seat carefully. The animal’s head didn’t give him much room to move, and although Rafe had never thought of himself as claustrophobic before, he was starting to find it damned hard to breathe.
The ride from the inlet across the wasteland that was the ocean-side corner of the second canton took nearly three-quarters of an hour. The inlet’s distance from the city was one of the reasons they always brought their food to the job site.
Saving zellis was another, but Rafe could afford the zellis better than he could afford the lost time on the job. This close to the ocean the sun rose quickly and set just as fast, and the daylight was far too short to waste on long meals.
By the time they hit the city, the oceandog seemed to have fallen asleep with its head in Rafe’s lap. The wheeler pulled up short next to a cracked sidewalk less than a block from the building where Rafe and Berto lived together.
He carefully worked his way out from under the oceandog’s head. The oceandog let out a soft whine, then yawned with a terrifying display of glistening teeth and tongue.
Those were some damned sharp looking teeth.
Rafe hobbled his way out of the wheeler, his cock so hard he could barely stand. He tried to adjust himself unobtrusively, but he caught Wicker staring at him open-mouthed, and his face flushed hot.
He scowled at her, and when Berto climbed out of the wheeler, he scowled at Berto too.
“Shut up,” he snapped.
“Didn’t say a word.”
“You were looking.”
“And what was I looking at, exactly?”
“Nothing, that’s what—Holy—” He fell back under the weight of the oceandog hitting his legs, then went down, his ass hitting the madestone with a teeth rattling jolt to his spine.
Berto tried to grab for him, but one sharp growl from the oceandog stopped him in his tracks.
The oceandog’s thick, wet tongue dragged along the side of Rafe’s face.
Rafe jerked his head to the side but it was too late. Half his face was covered in a thick layer of saliva. “All holy hell!”
Berto loomed over him and the oceandog, real concern etched into every line in his face. “You sure you can manage that thing?”
Rafe huffed with the effort to shove the oceandog off him. The oceandog growled softly. This time, instead of giving in, Rafe did some growling of his own. “Get off me, you ugly spawn.”
The oceandog whined and sat back, its big eyes sad again.
Rafe pushed up onto his elbow and glared. “I don’t think so. I’ve learned my lesson with you. That look’s not going to work on me again.”
Marten leaned out of the open door and raised his voice. “I’m hungry and that job ain’t gonna finish itself! Leave him and let’s go.”
Rafe sat up and started wiping slobber off his face with the bottom of his shirt while glaring toward Marten. “What’s got him so damned pissy today?”
Berto glanced over his shoulder. “He’s afraid we’ll miss the deadline and lose some of the pot. He needs the money for that place he wants to rent.”
“Shit,” Rafe said. “I didn’t mean for—”
“Stop worrying about him, he’s being an asshole.” Berto clasped his hands together and rubbed. He jerked his head toward the oceandog sitting quietly beside Rafe on the sidewalk. “Just get rid of that thing. I’ll cover for you today. Don’t worry about the job.”
“I’ll pay you back.”
Berto eyed him, then nodded. “You better, asshole.” He turned to go, but stopped short to say, “Watch yourself.”
Rafe waved toward the wheeler and started climbing to his feet. “Get out of here, and stop worrying about me, I’m not fifteen anymore.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Berto said. He turned away and squeezed back into the wheeler beside Wicker. Marten climbed out and moved toward the wheeler’s back door.
Rafe eyed the oceandog, not liking the way it stared at Marten. Would he have to—
Shit.
Rafe lunged for the oceandog’s neck, clasping his arms tight around that fat throat and digging in his heels, but the oceandog stalked forward as if Rafe weighed nothing at all.
Marten jumped into the back of the wheeler and yanked the door down.
Four large feet slammed into the side of the wheeler with a spine-tingling screech of claws on metal.
“Holy shit!” Marten yelled from the other side of the door, staring through the window glass that stretched across the wheeler’s upper frame.
The oceandog whuffed.
“You think that’s funny, huh?” Rafe said. He released the oceandog’s throat and slid back onto his feet. He might as well have been trying to ride a bordrulle for all the good that had done.
He waved Berto forward. “Get out of here.”
The oceandog turned its head into Rafe’s stomach and started rubbing. Rafe tried to push it away but the oceandog was too heavy, and Rafe ended up staggering backwards to keep his balance.
“No getting frisky with the monster spawn,” Wicker called out. When Berto pulled away, she was still laughing at her own joke.
Rafe pursed his lips and looked down at his companion. “She can be a right bitch when she wants to be.”
The oceandog whuffed his agreement.
“Ah well.” Rafe risked a quick pat on the oceandog’s head, enjoying the slide of soft fur under his palm. “That’s probably why Berto likes her so much.”