CHAPTER TWO

"Matthew, this is fucking amazing! I mean, freaking amazing," said Wilson. Matthew just laughed, slapping his back.

"You don't have to change your words for me, son. I've heard them all. And you're welcome. The island needed to be bigger for all of you and for those that might come next. We've been working on it for a while. Y'all just didn't notice."

"Pops, how did you do this? How did we not see this happening?" asked Gaspar, looking at the drone footage of their island. Matthew grinned as if to say, ‘my little secret,' but instead told them.

"You've all been gone quite a bit on your missions. When you're sleeping is when I get a lot of the work done. Grant and I hired a nighttime crew that was able to expand the island."

"What about these small fingers on the islands, Pops?" asked Miller. "What are they for?"

"Anything we can do to prevent others from getting close is always smart. Each of these is built so that the ground is too soft to land a boat near it, even if they got through all our security checkpoints. The docks are now almost completely surrounded by land, except for one small opening that can be closed off with one of Finley's wonderful contraptions. We're all safe out here. As safe as those at Belle Fleur."

"Matthew, this must have been an extensive project," said Trak. "Even at night, we should have heard something." Matthew nodded, smiling at one of his son's oldest friends. He gripped his neck.

"álííl," he said, smiling at him.

"What does that mean?" asked Rafe.

"Magic," smiled Trak. "He said it was magic. That's all I need to know, Matthew. Thank you for making this an even safer place for us to be."

"Don't be late for dinner tonight," he said, walking away from the group of men. "Irene is cooking up something wonderful to go with this beautiful cool snap. Weather is perfect."

They watched as Matthew walked away, tall, strong, as if he were only fifty, not twice that age. He had no limp, no change in his gait, no stoop of his shoulders. Still solid. Still six-feet-two. Still two hundred pounds. The only indication of his age was his silver hair and the wrinkles around his eyes.

"álííl," whispered Trak. "He is the magic. Not all of this." Gaspar nodded at his friend, then turned to the rest of the men.

"We did a helluva job on the case with Maison Soleil and the APD. Even got a call from the POTUS on that one. Yesterday, we got a message from Alexi. He thanked us for being there for his daughter, again."

"Man, she was there for us," smiled Tailor. "I couldn't believe it. She grew up to be a beautiful, intelligent young woman. I wish he'd come here, but he refuses. He's getting up there and is starting to feel the effects of having a body this size and aging."

"Not everyone can be here, brother," said Alec. Tailor only nodded.

"What's on the list for this week?" asked Gabriel. "New animals?" The men all laughed, looking at Gaspar.

"Sometimes, I really hate you guys," frowned Gaspar. Nine slapped his back as the seniors all laughed at him.

"We'll be sending a few of you out to help with some protection details," said Nine. "Angel, Gibbie, and Antoine will be handling security for a large art exhibit at the New Orleans Museum of Art. They don't trust some of their own security to handle the details, so our team will have full control of it all. We'll all be attending the opening."

"What? Why?" whined Baptiste.

"Because Ela, Cassidy, and Shay will all have exhibits there. It's highlighting women in the arts and their contributions to the state of Louisiana. Some of Ela and Cassidy's paintings are mind-blowing. They look as if you could walk into them. Shay created an entire line of jewelry using cypress and oyster shell, showing the beauty of our land."

"Damn, that's pretty amazing," said Baptiste.

"One of her necklaces sells for more than ten grand," smirked Ian. "The paintings range from twenty to ninety grand. One of the bigger pieces that Ela did is estimated to sell for a hundred and fifty grand."

"Holy shit," muttered Gibbie.

"Gibbie, you, Bull, and Jazz will be working with the team on outside security. That's six of our best. Make sure nothing happens."

"You got it," said Gibbie with a head jerk.

"What else do we have?" asked Mac.

"A strange call," said Ghost. "A woman is flying in from California to speak with us about peculiar trash washing up on her private beach."

"Didn't she call the environmental protection group? Hell, it's California, they've got more environmental groups than the rest of the country combined," frowned Wilson.

"That's what we thought, but Lily handled the call while she was manning the desk the other day. She said it was probably something we wanted to hear about. I trust her," said Ghost. Bull nodded, knowing that his girl wouldn't recommend a case unless it was important.

"Is it time to eat yet?" asked Alec, rubbing his stomach. His brothers were amazed that it was still flat, taut, and actually showed shadows of a six-pack.

"No. It's not time to eat yet," frowned Gaspar. "Do you ever not eat?"

"When I'm sleeping," smirked Alec. "Even then, I'm craving food. I have snacks in a mini fridge near the bed. Lissa hates it, but I need my calories, and if it's a particularly amorous night, I really need my calories."

"Same. Lena tries to put fresh fruit and shit in there. I just dump it out, tell her I ate it and put the things I want in it." Gaspar just shook his head. He took a deep breath, placed his hands on his knees, and smiled at the group.

"This will come as a shock to all of you, but I've given my permission for a few new animals."

Shock wasn't the word any of them would have used. Astounded. Flabbergasted. Amazed. Then, maybe, shocked.

"Are you ill? Is there something going on? Are you dying?" asked Miller.

"Fuck you," he smirked. "No, I'm not dying. Not yet, anyway. Our giraffe was getting lonely. They're used to being in family groups, especially with their young. We're bringing a female and two young giraffes. A male and female."

"That's cool," smirked Code. "I love our little zoo."

"It's not a zoo," growled Gaspar.

"If you say so. More than a dozen animals of varying species, that's a zoo. Or a farm." Code could only chuckle at the look on Gaspar's face.

"Fine. We have a farm. An exotic, multi-animal species, farm." The others stared at him, and he threw his hands in the air. "Whatever. We have a fucking zoo. Anyway, we'll have three new giraffes and two new dogs for the property. They're both Mastiffs weighing over two hundred a piece. I can't figure out why we never get a nice little Cocker Spaniel or a Yorkie. A Yorkie might be nice."

"Why? Alvin would only eat it," grinned Baptiste. "I'm kidding. But two hundred pounds each? That's a lot of dog."

Slow whistles and nods of appreciation were heard. Walking toward them was Sniff and Dex, both holding a dog on a leash. The beasts were massive. The biggest they'd ever seen.

"That dog ain't stealin' my food," said Tailor. "I'll fight him if I have to, but don't make me hurt that dog."

"He doesn't eat your food," said Dex. "He likes a very specific diet. We're here to introduce them to you all so they know you belong here and on Belle Fleur. This is Goliath and Atlas."

"They were puppies when we got them," said Sniff. "They didn't stay puppies for long. They are highly protective by nature, and we've watched them nearly go through doors at people attempting to get in. Hex took them up to the dress shop the other day just to get them used to all of the businesses. Someone walked in they didn't know, and he could barely hold them. They take commands well, but there was something about the guy they didn't like. He said he wanted to buy a leather jacket, but they smelled drugs."

"They're drug dogs?" frowned Nine.

"They are trained for all of it. Drugs, explosives, cadavers," said Sniff proudly. It had taken them a while to get a routine down on how to train the dogs. For them, they found that if the dogs worked in one arena, they generally worked well in other arenas.

Each of the men took a turn, kneeling before the dogs and allowing them to see their faces clearly, smell their bodies, and just know they were friendly. When Mama Irene started coming toward them, they thought the dogs were going to devour her.

Instead, they broke free of their leashes, sliding to a stop in front of her as she handed each one a treat, kissing the tops of their heads. She commanded them to roll over, sit, and then shake. The poor old woman could barely hold their heavy paws.

"Dinner's ready. Y'all come on when you're done. We'll be outside tonight, enjoyin' the evenin'."

"Be right there, Mama," smirked Jean. Tailor looked at Alec and then at the others. Right there? They were hungry now and wanted food. Taking off in their version of a sprint, they looked behind them and yelled.

"Let's go. We're hungry!"