by LJ Swallow
"Maybe she has his computer skills?" suggests Joss.
"Ewan and her can sit down later and take a look at what they have," Heath says.
"More one-on-one time for them both?" Xander cocks a brow.
"I love that Vee has some War power," retorts Ewan. "She can balance out your attitude."
"Vee has something to match all of us," says Heath. "Maybe if she works with each of us, we can figure out how far her powers go."
I break my silence. "I’m happy this is my power. I’m glad I’m at the centre of you all. I feel it explains what’s happening between us, and I don’t feel crap about the effect I have anymore. Xander began to make me feel like I’d cause too much trouble between the four of you. Instead I think I unite you."
"One big happy family." Joss grins, and Heath frowns at him. "No, I mean it. We live as a family, and now we’ve a new member."
Here goes nothing... I clear my throat, like a politician about to make an important speech. "I need to know what's okay in this situation. We're all aware of our bond, and I have to be sure where I fit into that. You guys all love each other like brothers." I pause. "But I don't feel like a sister to you. I'm pulled to every one of you, and this is causing issues, isn't it?"
Joss shrugs against my shoulders. "No issue to me. You can have sex with whoever you like."
"I’m not just talking about sex!" I protest. "Physically and emotionally."
Heath places his phone down. "What are you talking about here, Vee?"
"I don't want to depend on you—any of you, and as soon as I let one of you closer than the others, I know the protectiveness and maybe possessiveness will join that. Then problems will start. I haven't had many successful relationships, not just because of the truth/lie thing, but because I don't want to be defined as part of a couple. Here, I feel I'm part of you all. I care about you all, whether that's this supernatural bond, or more, I'm not sure yet."
"All? Even Mr Rude Bastard?" asks Joss.
I turn my head to Xander, enjoying his stunned look. "Sweetheart, I don't buy into your theory. They might all want a piece of the action, but I'm not getting involved."
"All good," I say. Will this man ever understand I know he's lying? "But please, can I lay this on the table? I have to live with you all, there’re strong feelings and mutual attraction. But I won't choose one of you. I can't be that. We can't do that."
"So what are you suggesting?" Joss asks, eyes shining with fun. "Are you going to put us on rotation? Two days of the week each? Maybe it's good Xander isn't interested because you'll have a day to rest."
He's only half joking, and I flick him on the nose. "Not. Just. About. Sex. But we're living in close proximity. Things will happen if we let them, won't they? I'm just saying, if they do, it doesn't mean I've chosen." Jesus, I sound bad. Wrong even. I run both hands through my hair. "I'm as confused as you are. This behaviour isn’t like me, but then I’m not the old Vee, am I?"
Joss stretches out his long legs and places his feet on the table. "I already said I'm okay with whatever."
"Heath?" I ask.
He scratches the corner of his eye. "Logical. Not a hundred percent sure how I feel, but I accept what you're saying."
Ewan tips his head. "After last night, I'm not gonna say no. I'm here when you need me, whatever you need me for."
Heath's head jerks up. "Last night?"
Ewan looks over at me, and Joss pipes up. "Let me put it this way. She didn't sleep in my bedroom, Heath.."
"Oh." He blows air into his cheeks and looks down at his phone. I dip my head to see what he's thinking, but his features are unreadable.
"Ewan and me spent some time together," I say to Joss. "Interpret that how you want."
"I was going to say you have to be truthful with us about everything if this is to work, but I guess there's no need," says Joss with a laugh.
"I love different things about each of you," I reply.
Xander makes a soft sound in his throat. "Love. Bullshit. Co-dependency multiplied by four. Great."
"You're very suspicious of me, aren't you, Xander?" I ask.
"No. I just want to figure this situation the hell out. Can we talk about more than your romantic aspirations, Vee?"
I scowl. "I think this is important, and like I said, I’m talking about more than sex. I mean companionship too, how the synergy between us means we’ll always live together as five and never ‘two plus three.’"
Xander jabs a finger at each of us. "You know what's important? Tracking down the person behind the plot to kill Portia. Finding out how far our Ripley’s influence spreads because there's a lot of shit going down without your fours’ obsession with screwing each other." He shakes his head. "Heath. Joss. Maybe you should get it out of your system. Ewan obviously has. Both of you with her, or separately, I don't care."
Ewan stares ahead and I wish I knew what words he's holding back right now. I stand. "If you want to drag this down to that level, fine. But I don't think it's as simple as you say."
"Yeah? I told you the other night what the deal would be between me and you. That hasn't changed."
"I heard. Loud and clear."
"The lady doth protest too much, methinks," says Joss and raises both brows at Xander.
Joss quoting Shakespeare—and correctly? I’ll add that to the list of this week’s shocking occurrences.
Heath huffs. "I think this is exactly why Vee's having the conversation, Xander. Now we know the score, we move on. She's here for important reasons, and we need to remain unified."
"How about we show her the picture?" announces Joss and receives a sharp no from Xander and Ewan. Heath shakes his head at him.
"What picture?" I ask.
"Nothing. Just something Joss found in a book when he was researching. It’s not important," says Xander, eyes on Joss.
"But aren’t we telling her everything? Now I know how powerful she is, I’m not upsetting Vee," he replies.
"It’s a bloody picture, Joss," retorts Heath. "It really doesn’t mean anything."
"Well, obviously it does if you’re all making such a big deal out of it." I rub my forehead. "Is it of me?"
"Fine, just get the book," says Xander.
Joss slaps his hands on his legs and stands, before heading out the door towards the back of the house. I’ve peeked into the room back there before—a study with walls lined by shelves and books I’m curious to read. I rest my head on Ewan’s shoulder and look over to the ‘ever-friendly’ Xander.
"What next?" I ask him.
"We’re at a dead end. Time to start questioning some of the other supes," he replies.
"Supes? Oh. Like the vampires or shifters or whoever?" I shiver slightly.
"Maybe. Plus, Portia wants us over tonight for one of her so-called dinner parties," replies Xander.
Did I hear correctly? "Dinner party?"
"Yeah, don’t be fooled. She usually has an agenda when she invites us," says Ewan.
"Besides trying to get into Xander’s pants," puts in Heath.
Oh god, too funny. I’d love to see her try that.
"Guys!" Joss’s urgent voice comes from the direction he walked. "I think you need to see this."
All three jump to their feet, a well-rehearsed call to action as Xander storms ahead through the lounge room door. Heath puts out a hand to try to stop me following, but drops it when I meet his action with a filthy look.
I edge along behind them, and as we reach the front hallway I look between Heath and Ewan. "Front door was open," says Joss, who’s standing in the entrance.
"And?" asks Xander.
Joss screws up his face and nods to something I can’t see, outside. Xander pulls himself straight and strides over. I wait for his brusque instructions to us, but as soon as he steps onto the path, he halts.
Xander speechless?
Heart speeding, I follow Heath and Ewan, who barricade themselves together in the doorway so I can’t pass. I duck beneath their arms and i
mmediately wish I hadn’t.
On the gravelled drive way, a body lies on the floor a few feet away, beside Heath’s car. I’m close enough to see a body that’s disfigured and bloody to the point I can’t tell if it’s male or female. Or human. I clasp a hand over my mouth, fighting back a reaction that would get me noticed and make them push me away from the situation. There’s no bird song to interrupt the silence gripping us all. I glance at the guys—their faces are expressionless. How can they not be moved by this? Or is this as close as they get to shock?
I don’t want to look again, but the guys’ continued staring draws my eyes back in the body’s direction. My scalp prickles and cold trickles down my spine spreading into my veins. Someone has smeared blood across the bonnet and written two words on the white paintwork:
GUESS WHO?
Read on for a bonus scene and for the next book, Hunted.
The Secret of the Missing Cat
I’ve received emails and messages from concerned (and some upset) readers who missed what happened to Vee’s cat in Legacy. In Legacy, she does say to herself that the cat had left her for the neighbours. He wasn’t left in a burning flat!
But, as someone who owns three cats, I could understand their concerns and decided to write a short scene that takes place close to the beginning of Bound.
This will hopefully bring some closure for Vee, the cat and the readers… (This scene may contain editing errors).
VEE
Did I expect the place to disappear along with my old life?
I stare at the furniture shop, with my flat in the same position above it, and my car parked in the lane around the back. I stand outside Heath’s car and clutch the tissue inside my jacket pockets. I attempt to hide how freaked out I am as I’m confronted by the reality the guys told me didn’t exist.
There’s no fooling Joss. He places a hand on my arm, concerned eyes studying my face. "You okay?"
"I think so. It's as if I'm looking at a stranger’s flat. I thought I’d feel like I was coming home but... no."
"Do you want to go inside?"
I shake my head as my pulse quickens. "No. Not today. We can sort everything out another time."
Heath leans over the low brick wall between the street and the yard behind the shop. His combat jacket and T-shirt ride up revealing a toned back and the oh-so-gropeable ass in his dark denim jeans. "Where did you last see your cat?" he calls.
"Chasing another cat up the street," I reply.
Heath steps back again. "He’s obviously not hanging around your flat pining for you."
I scowl. "I’m aware of that. I told you, my cat stopped coming home altogether a week before I met you guys. For the month leading up to that, he rarely appeared."
"Are you sure he was your cat?" Joss asks.
"What? Of course, he was! I don’t randomly abduct animals and force them to live with me."
Heath and Joss glance at each other; a bloody annoying habit they all have when I know I’m excluded from something. I poke Joss in the stomach – or attempt to since solid muscle greets me. "Stop that! What’s wrong?"
"How old’s your cat, Vee?" he asks in a quiet voice.
"I adopted him from the shelter a year ago," I retort. "He isn’t a false memory. He’s my cat."
"Or was," mutters Heath. "What are you going to do if we find him?"
I open my mouth to answer, but I don’t have one. Take the cat back to the guys’ property? And then what happens when I need to go away, since they’ve made it clear we’re not staying in the area permanently? Plus, aren’t cats freaked out by moving home? What if he tries to return to his new family and doesn't make it?
"Call for the cat, Heath," says Joss. "He might be scared and hiding."
"More like enjoying life in someone’s house," he mutters. "Vee, you call him."
What's with Heath’s reluctance and Joss’s unsuppressed amusement? Oh, right. His name. "Fine. I will."
Scalp prickling under their scrutiny, I wander behind the row of shops to the narrow laneway. "Bacon!"
Joss erupts into laughter, and I shoot him a filthy look. He holds his hands up. "Sorry, but seriously? Bacon? No wonder he fled. Probably thought you were going to make breakfast out of him."
"It was his name at the shelter. I didn’t want to change it," I retort.
Heath approaches and wraps an arm around my shoulders. He hugs me to his warm chest, the scent I associate with head-spinning kisses moving over me. "I know you’re worried. Ignore dumbass taking the piss."
"I am not! It’s just funny, okay?" Joss approaches too and touches my face. "I promise not to laugh at your cat's hilarious name again."
I pout. "You call for him, then."
"Huh?"
Now it’s Heath’s turn to snigger.
"The cat? Go on," I challenge.
Joss purses his lips and glances around furtively. The surroundings are empty of everything but parked cars, rubbish gathering in the drains, and us.
"Bacon," he says in barely a whisper.
Heath’s laughter matches Joss’s from earlier, and I duck from under his arm. "This is getting us nowhere! I’m going to check out the neighbour’s place."
Leaving the comedians behind, I stride in the direction of the terraced row of houses until I reach the narrow, gated backyards consisting of concrete pavers or uneven ground. I halt in front of a yard with washing pegged to the line and look over the wall at the net curtains in the kitchen window. I’ve seen Bacon hanging out in this yard, so I count how many houses to the end, and march around to the path leading along the front of the houses.
My Horsemen protectors follow. A young woman passing, with a child in a stroller, double takes. They’re oblivious, focused on me. I smile a little too smugly when she stares at me in disbelief. Yep, they’re mine. Both of them.
"This is the one," I say.
The front windows contain the same yellowing net curtains as the rear, and a sunflower grows in a terracotta pot by the blue door. What was once a lawn is now muddy with sparse grass, and a tarmac path leads to the door. There’s a faded plastic sand box on one side, and two small bikes resting against the red brick on the other.
I search for a doorbell. None. Taking a nervous breath, I rap on the door.
I’m about to knock for the second time when a woman answers. She has curly blonde hair and dark circles beneath her eyes, dressed in baggy pants and a cardigan over a T-shirt. She holds a toddler against her hip; a young girl with brown hair who grips her mother’s shirt in one hand and a doll in another.
The woman eyes us suspiciously. "Yes?"
"Um. Sorry to bother you, but –" I begin.
"What are you selling? I don’t want to buy anything." She hitches the girl further up her hip and makes to close the door, her wary look switching to Joss and Heath, who flank me.
"No. I’m looking for my cat."
The woman pauses. "Cat? What does it look like?"
Hope rises. I bet the ungrateful animal did move here. "Black. But he has one white paw." I indicate my right hand. "He should have a red collar too."
"The black cat's yours?" she asks. "I thought he was a stray."
"He’s a bit fat to be a stray," I retort. His weight gain over the last few month confirmed to me he has another – if not several more – homes to dine at.
"He’s always hungry when he comes here," she replies.
Is she suggesting I neglect my cat? "He’s always hungry, full stop."
The woman bites the corner of her lip, distracted by the godlike men either side of me. "You have quite a search party for one cat."
"Just ask her outright," says Heath gracing her with a friendly smile. "I’m sure if this lovely lady knows where your cat is she’ll tell you."
The woman's cheeks redden at his attention, but I understand Heath's hint.
"Have you seen my cat?" I ask her outright.
"Yes. The cat's inside." The woman blinks. "With my daughter. Wait there."
&
nbsp; She disappears inside the house, closing the door with a click. I shuffle from foot to foot as I wait, hoping the cat is Bacon.
"What are you going to do if it is him?" asks Joss again. "Xander would lose his shit if we took a cat home."
Which tempts me to do exactly that. But taking Bacon to my new home would be unfair. I’ll need to join the Horsemen on their "trips away", and who’ll look after a cat then?
We glance at each other as voices rise in the house and a child wails. The woman returns, followed by a blonde-haired girl around three years old. She cradles a black cat in her arms as if he were a baby, and Bacon’s unmistakable white paw touches her face. Guilt twinges when I spot the tears streaking the girls cheeks.
"Is this him?" asks the woman.
Bacon looks at me, not struggling against the girl’s hold, and with no sign of interest. Bloody cats.
"Have you come for Blackie?" she asks and sniffs. "He’s my cat." I wince for Bacon as the girl squeezes him tighter.
"Give Blackie to the lady," says the woman and places a hand on the girl’s head. "He belongs to her, and she loves him too. The lady wants to take her cat home."
"But he came to live with me," the girl protests. "He doesn’t want to go home!"
Ah, crap. The guys either side of me remain mute. Why did they come with me if they weren’t going to help?
"Maybe put him down?" I suggest. "He doesn’t look comfortable."
The teary girl half-drops Bacon to the floor who rubs himself around her legs. Again, no response to me. I slide a hand down my face. This situation is awkward and not what I expected. What do I do?
"The cat's always here," says the woman. "He follows Maisie everywhere and sleeps on her bed. If you take him, he’ll probably come back."
She’s right, another reason I can’t take him to the guys’ place. I’ve heard about cats walking miles to return to their homes and territory. "Hang on."
I turn to a perturbed looking Heath. "What do I do?" I whisper.
