Silver-Tipped Justice(26)

Tim tensed in his arms. “Guys? What guys? Where are we going?”

Kontra rubbed Tim’s arm, pleased when the tension bled away. “I mentioned Eli checked you over. He’s our pack doctor,” Kontra reminded his mate gently. “My pack arrived while you were recovering. They’re in the process of cleaning, packing, and preparing for the estate sale. Shep is helping organize it, too,” he tacked on, hoping the mention of Tim’s friend would soothe him.

For a long moment, Tim said nothing. Kontra realized he probably should have asked Tim to travel with him first, but well, he was pack alpha and had been for over thirty years. Making decisions and just expecting others to follow was second nature to him.

Finally, Tim looked up at him and smiled. “I guess it’s a good thing I’m signing over my store to the new owner…” He paused, grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand and checking the screen. “Tomorrow.” He let out a long sigh, smiling faintly. “It’s time to move on.”

Kontra pressed a kiss to the love bite he’d left behind the man’s ear and murmured, “You ran the bookstore with Gil, didn’t you?”

Tim nodded.

“I’m glad you had someone to care for you when I could not,” he murmured, ignoring the niggle of jealousy. “Tell me about him.”

His lover rolled onto his back and stared up at him for a moment. Tim must have read the sincerity in Kontra’s eyes, for he nodded, and started talking.

Kontra listened, interjecting a question here and there, impressed that the human had accepted Tim’s not-quite-human nature. After a while, Tim fell asleep. Kontra split the next hour between dozing and watching his mate sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so at peace.

A soft knock on the door, an hour later, reminded Kontra that he had duties to attend to. “Come,” he called softly.

In walked Sam, a look of concern on his face.

Raising a brow, Kontra questioned, “Something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Sam admitted. He held up a small envelope. “This was dropped off by a boy a few minutes ago. It’s addressed to Tim. No postage or return address.”

Kontra took it and flipped it over, reading Timothy Laurent in bold, square script. “Odd,” he muttered.

He hated rousing his mate, but he’d already demanded Tim go with him, the least he could do was let him open his own damn mail.

At Kontra’s prodding, Tim muttered sleepily, “Mm, what?”

“You got a note. Do you recognize the handwriting?” Kontra asked, holding the crisp, pale blue envelope out to his mate.

Tim rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, then took it. “No,” he mumbled. Before Kontra could caution him, Tim pulled open the flap and took out a small piece of stationary. He opened the one fold and frowned at the words. “Holy shit.” Kontra leaned over and read over his shoulder.

Timothy—

Congratulations on coming into your powers. I am to be your trainer. When you become strong enough to locate me, you will be ready to begin lessons. I’ll give you a head start. San Francisco.

Draven

P.S. From now on, let your shifter mate open your mail. Just in case it’s cursed.

“Well, damn,” Kontra muttered. “I guess it makes sense that you’d need training,” he mused.

“But who the hell is Draven and how did he know?” Tim asked, frowning.

Kontra wrapped an arm around Tim and pulled him close. “He must be a wizard or something,” Kontra said. “We’ll find him and make certain training with him is safe. Don’t worry.” He pressed a kiss to Tim’s temple. “Your safety and happiness is everything to me. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he promised.

Still staring down at the short note, Tim nodded absently. “Training.” Suddenly, the envelope burst into flames. Tim squeaked and jumped in surprise, dropping the paper.

“Shit,” Kontra muttered, grabbing the comforter and patting out the flames.

Tim looked at him, his eyes wide. “Training would be good.”

“Right,” Kontra said, nodding. Looking up at his waiting pack member, Kontra told Sam, “Let everyone know that our next stop is San Francisco.”