The Spur of the Platypus (5 page)

The venom that had been working on his wound shouted, “I’m bringing his mate over. Clear a spot.” The venom picked him up and ran him over.

Flex’s hand shook as he grabbed a hold of Prescott’s ice-cold fingers as the venom continued to try to revive him. “I can...” Flex began, but the venom pulled him back.

“Let Mills work on him, just catch your breath,” the guy said behind him.

“I just...found him.” Flex pulled Prescott’s hand to his chest. He wanted to do more as others helped Prescott. Watching was a cruel joke as Flex prayed to see Prescott’s chest move. Two puffs into Prescott’s mouth and then another guy began doing chest compressions. The cycle repeated, and Flex started to shake in terror.

Please breathe. Please!

Flex hissed as his whole body began shooting pain once more.

“Shit. Just lie next to him and let me help you.”

That wasn’t a problem because all of Flex’s strength left him, and he flopped onto his side as another guy caught him.

Some began sucking on his wounds again. If Flex didn’t automatically feel the pain lessen, he would have been freaking out. He had seen it before where others had sucked a snakebite and spit out the venom, but these guys were fucking swallowing the shit.
What...the...hell?

Flex could feel the various stings subdue as he focused on Prescott. A venom compressed Prescott’s chest, then Prescott choked, water spilling over blue lips. Relief flooded Flex as they rolled Prescott to the side so he could vomit the ocean water.

“Your boy’s going to be okay. You’ll need to keep a close eye on him for a couple days,” the venom said from behind him.

Flex nodded and turned to focus on the guy. “Who are you?” His voice came out as a rasp, his jaw aching from clenching at the pain.

“Name’s Silver. I’m anti-venom and second-in-command of Fiesta Island Territory.” Silver smiled down at him.

“But...” Flex eyed Silver’s body, “you look venomous.”

“Just consider us your angels of the sea.” Silver winked. “Come on, we’ll get you to Mission Territory. Boss wants to talk to Kalder.”

Flex’s head flopped as he was lifted. “I can walk.” Mills picked up Prescott next to him as the two anti-venoms began walking toward Mission Territory.

“In a bit, when the damn venom is sucked out of you. Their venom worked on you like a paralysis, meaning this swarm of man o’ wars were more potent. Most would just leave you with one hell of a scar. Still have a lot of venom to suck out of you,” Silver huffed out.

“Suck?” Flex eyed Silver, growing weary of the man carrying him even though he noticed they were careful to keep Prescott in his view at all times. That was twice the anti-venom said suck like he was a damn vampire or something.

“Yep. All territories have their secrets, and you’re about to find out about the blue angels of Fiesta Island.”

Prescott woke up feeling like he’d had the shit kicked out of him. His chest hurt, and his body ached. God his head was pounding. He felt a hand brush his hair and slowly opened his eyes to see Flex staring down at him.

“What?” Prescott croaked out.
Jesus.

“You’re safe now. We’re in Mission Territory.” Flex bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry. If we hadn’t gotten help...” Flex shook his head and didn’t go on.

Prescott tried to recall what happened. His brain was sluggish in catching up. They were traveling to Mission, went for a swim and...oh. Oh shit. “Are you okay?”

Prescott scanned Flex’s arms and noticed several angry, long, thin open wounds.

“I’m fine. They’ll heal. Just worried about you.” Flex leaned over and kissed Prescott’s hand, which he was holding.

“I can survive venom bites and stings.” Prescott was anti-venom. It was in his genetic makeup to be able to resist venom. He had a hell of a healing process, but anti-venom were always able to fight off even the most toxic bites.

“But not drowning,” Flex rasped out.

“No,” Prescott murmured. Definitely not that. He didn’t want to even think about it. It was bittersweet that he let his guard down, and in that moment, they were attacked.

Prescott sighed and rolled to his side to sit up. He glanced down at his wounds. They appeared as angry, long whip-like injuries. His head and chest hurt a hell of a lot more than the marks on his flesh. Prescott turned his attention away from his own wounds to peer at Flex’s. Like him, there were marks on Flex’s arms and legs. Prescott reached out and brushed his fingers along the edge of one of them on Flex’s leg, which appeared to already be healing.

Flex grabbed a hold of his hand. “They don’t hurt. Look, I wanted to tell you...” Flex began.

Prescott held up his hand. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want you apologizing.”

“You were right.” Flex’s hand clenched over his.

“No, I wasn’t,” Prescott murmured.

“We were caught off guard and attacked. It wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t fucking around near Venom City.”

Prescott stared at their hands and blew out a breath. What Flex said was technically true but... “I need that,” he whispered.

“What?” Flex grabbed a hold of his chin and lifted it so their gazes met.

“I need you just the way you are,” Prescott said softly. “I need you in my life, and I don’t want this war to change you, no matter what hell we come across.”

Flex frowned. “We need to be more vigilant.”

Prescott wasn’t saying it right. His head still pounded, but it was important for Flex to understand what he was trying to say. “We’ll be more careful in the future, but I don’t want you to change. I like you carefree and happy. At first, I totally misunderstood it. Thought you were arrogant.”

“I am arrogant,” Flex interrupted with a snort.

Prescott couldn’t help but smile. “You are, but you’re here because I wanted to be with my family. You changed your life for someone you barely know.”

“I care for you. I want that to grow deeper by getting to know you. If I have to walk through hell to do it, I will.”

Prescott mumbled, “Venom City is hell.”

“I think the tide is turning on Venom City. Seems you have two territories working together now.” Flex waggled his brows at him.

“What?”

“Magnus is here. He’s fucking pissed, with an small army behind him. Seems Fiesta Island was overrun by the stonefish and puffers, and now, he wants vengeance.” Flex pushed him down on the bed so was he lying half on top of Prescott. It was hard to think with Flex so close.

“We need to see what’s going on.” Prescott squirmed, but Flex held firm.

“Tomorrow. Rest today, and then, tomorrow, we’ll see what’s happening.” Flex rolled off and wrapped his arms around him, cocooning him in a warm embrace.

“I...” Prescott began.

“Shush, rest.” Flex kissed the back of his head.

“Bossy,” Prescott groused.

“You know it and love it.” Flex began to rub his head, and good lord, did it ever feel good.

Shit, he did. He loved Flex.

A thought grew inside of Prescott. What the hell was he in a rush for? They were protected in Mission Territory by their loved ones. If something were to happen, they sure as hell would find out quick enough and would be out of the room in no time.

“Is there a planned meeting?” Prescott grabbed a hold of Flex’s hand and brushed his lips across the knuckles.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Flex murmured, kissing a spot behind his ear.

“Then, let’s forget the outside world for a while and be with each other.”

Flex rolled him over before leaning down and kissing him softly on the lips. “That’s the best fucking idea I’ve ever heard.”

Prescott buried his face into Flex’s chest. This was his chance to be with Flex. He could count on his friends to watch their backs while he got to know his mate.

* * * *

They woke up the next morning, and Flex searched every square inch of him to check his wounds. “I’m fine, Flex.”

Flex pulled back from a particular nasty sting on his leg. “They’re closed, but you’ll have scars.”

“I have a lot of scars, and I’ll have more in the future.” Prescott sat up and stretched his aching muscles. He didn’t feel as bad as he had yesterday. His headache was gone. All night Flex had rubbed his head, and he soaked up each and every second of it. He was starved for Flex’s touch. The thought of them having some time alone had a sense of peace washing over him. Prescott was not going to think about what was going on beyond the doors of the room.
Wait.

“How did we end up in this room? Is this...” He trailed off as he and Flex flopped back on the bed.

“Ours? Yes, I picked it out myself, but you can pick the curtains.” Flex chuckled next to him.

“That’s presumptuous of you,” Prescott teased.

“I know you love me. Now, now, you don’t have to rush and say it. Take your time. I know we’ve known each other a couple weeks.”

Prescott glared at Flex. “And you were gone one of those weeks.”

“Doesn’t matter when it’s love at first sight.” Flex smiled and leaned over to smack a kiss on his lips.

“Ha, not even.” Prescott laughed.

Flex shifted to his side, resting his cheek on one hand. “Maybe not on your side, but it sure as hell was on mine.”

“Hmm,” Prescott murmured.

“Huh, you don’t believe in it. What about your friends?” Flex asked.

Prescott bit his lip. “It’s different?”

Flex laughed. “Are you asking me?”

“No.”

“It sure sounded like it. Look, these toxins within us let nature rule us a lot more than our human mind. We sense things.” Flex reached out and tapped his chest. “I wouldn’t have believed it until I saw you and just...knew. You know?”

“I don’t know. I...” Prescott began but didn’t know where to go with his words. There was a draw to Flex.

“You think with the toxins changing everyone that you would be completely immune from it? You may not have the venomous animal, may be immune to all toxins, but I don’t think that’s where all anti-venom end. Too many of you are drawn to your mate. It would seem that nature found a way for you to find your match, too.”

Prescott rolled over. “You think I’m drawn to you?”

Flex gave him a cocky smile. “I know it.”

“We haven’t done anything but kiss.”

“Which is about to end starting now.”

Before Prescott could reply, Flex pulled him down into a deep kiss. God, Flex had a wonderful way of proving a point.

Flex rolled over and pressed his body down on Prescott. His kiss turned feral, and his cock throbbed. Since day one, he’d imagined Prescott underneath, giving him as good as he got. Flex rolled his hips and grinded his cock against Prescott’s and moaned into the kiss.

There wasn’t even a whole lot of clothing with both of them wearing only sweat shorts, but damn if Flex didn’t want those gone, too.

Flex skimmed his hands along Prescott’s ribs, feeling scars along the soft skin that told a story of a hard life. Prescott reached up and combed his fingers through Flex’s hair, trying to take control of the kiss. The two battled with teeth and tongue. The nips from Prescott on his lower lip went straight to his dick, and he could feel pre-cum oozing onto his shorts. All that could be heard in the room was their heavy breathing.

Both fought for control until Flex broke and pulled back just enough to jerk down Prescott’s shorts then his. Damn, Prescott was beautiful, lean and scarred. His dick was long and thin, leaking at the tip. Flex leaned down and took a quick taste, relishing the flavor of his mate.

Prescott hissed, “Fuck,” his hips rising off the bed.

He fell back on top of Prescott, aligning himself so they could feel their naked shafts rub against one another.

“So good,” Prescott moaned.

Flex wrapped his hand around both cocks and began stroking them.

It was amazing.

Noises other than his groans filled the air.

Prescott huffed. “Do you hear...” Prescott hissed as his hips rose off the bed and Flex stroked faster and faster.

A shout from outside and a scream had Flex yelling, “Fuck!”

They were under attack.

They had their pants down, literally.

Prescott rushed out of bed. “Where’s my clothes? Weapons?”

Flex scrambled off the bed, searching the floor, turning in circles. As far as them being ready to go, they were not. “I tossed them... somewhere.”

Prescott reached on the floor, grabbing a hold of his knife and sheath. “The one time I don’t sleep with a knife...” Prescott trailed off as he grabbed his shorts and began pulling them up.

Flex had better hurry the hell up or Prescott was going to leave him there.

Tugging up his shorts, Prescott grabbed blades, machete and his shoes.

Flex looked up just in time to see Prescott heading for the door. “Wait!”

Flex hopped, getting one shoe on then the other before the two were off, running down the stairs and out into fucking chaos.

Bees flew over them, attacking the ground five hundred yards away, which seemed to fucking move but wasn’t. It was an army of centipedes coming their way.

Some were humanlike, but there were others that appeared more centipede than human. Several vipers accompanied the centipedes. Flyers dove in and attacked them from above. Flex could see Striker’s mate, TL, shooting with a bow and arrow. Queen Abby was even up there using a sling and rocks. She was accurate, nailing each and every target in the head. Flex was fucking impressed.

Flex stared over at Prescott who had a determined look on his face. There was no way the flyers would take them all out. This was ground zero. He had seen it last week, and Prescott was finally getting his first look. Flex had to hand it to his mate, though; there was no fear in his eyes. He was calculating, assessing.

Flex, on the other hand, knew how ugly it was about to get. Not all of them would be standing there in the end. His spurs on his hind legs began to secrete venom at the thought of his mate being in danger.

“Fight but stick close,” Flex called to Prescott, as the noise of clashing bodies grew closer.