by Ellie J Duck
My mind boggles at the idea but I stay quiet on having my perceptions of the world continually expanded the longer I do this job and am exposed to this paranormal world. To think that there are entire realms beyond our own is mind-blowing. To know there are beings and peoples, all with their own bodies of governance, and their own laws and lands makes me feel a bit dizzy if I think about it for too long.
“So, I’m going to be stuck here with no one but you until the full moon?” I ask him, unsure if I should be pleased that the longer the team is away, the less chance there is that they’ll realize what we’ve done.
“That a problem?” he asks me, and I can tell he’s not sure what to do about my attitude.
“No,” I sigh, realizing I’m being a bitch and feeling bad about it. “Didn’t you tell me I need to stay away from you until after the full moon?”
Hilton glances sideways at me when I mention that.
“I couldn’t shift and bite you now even if I wanted to,” he informs me seriously. “The fever makes it impossible. I won’t be able to properly shift again now until the night before the full moon, I expect. The toll the fever takes on my wolf puts him into a coma for a few days. You’ll be fine.”
Thinking that I know even less about Shifters than I thought I did, I vaguely consider the idea of reading up on them via the files Greg keeps, but I’m much too tired to bother. Instead, I find myself gravitating toward the couch and the television, taking up the remote before raiding the giant collection in the cabinet under the TV.
“Are you planning on putting pants on any time soon?” Tobias asks me a few minutes later when I forget I’m only wearing his too-big-on-me shirt as I crawl between cupboards in search of something I want to watch. I blush when I realize I probably just flashed him.
“The rest of you don’t bother half the time,” I point out, my head buried in a cupboard. “Why should I? And it’s not like you haven’t seen it before.”
“Well, if you keep flashing it at me, I’m going to have my way with you again and take a really good look,” he replies, and I shoot him a look of surprise. He is stretched out on the couch, watching me.
“Now you’re going to tell me you’re attracted to me?” I ask him skeptically, snagging hold of a copy of the most recent Marvel movie on DVD and putting it in the player.
“Did I ever say I wasn’t?” Hilton asks, and I think seriously about throwing something at his head.
“You told me to forget it when you pinned me in training and I whimpered,” I inform him. “You also consistently point out all the reasons you dislike humans.”
“Didn’t say I wasn’t attracted to you, though,” he points out.
“You find me repugnant,” I point out.
“I never said that,” he replies. “I admittedly find you infuriating, annoying and think that you’re a huge risk to the entire team because you’re slower and weaker than the rest of us.”
“This is you being nice, isn’t it?” I ask him curiously, narrowing my eyes on him for his comments. At least I can’t fault his honesty.
“Would you stop asking questions and come here?” he says, his eyes crossing in frustration with me.
“Now you want to snuggle? The other day you wouldn’t even look at me!” I growl, growing fed up with his hot and cold approach to this weird situation between us.
“The other day, I needed to keep my distance to avoid shifting and biting you because I don’t want to turn you into a werewolf. Now, I’m not at risk of that. Besides, the rest of my Pack are away. It’s making me edgy,” he grumbles, looking grumpier by the minute.
Growling at him like I’m the werewolf and he’s the human, I don’t bother to walk over, choosing instead to crawl.
“Werewolves are weird,” I mutter mostly to myself, and Hilton curls his lip at me even as I climb up on the couch beside him where he is stretched out. He lifts the blanket he’s pulled over himself, allowing me to burrow against his bare chest and I find myself unable to resist the urge to do so. No sparks of desire flicker within me and I realize that everything he did to me has left me feeling content and sated. When he lowers the blanket over me and curls his arms around me, letting me use his arm as a pillow I feel a sigh of sleepy contentment escape me.
“If you hadn’t thrown a hissy fit, we could both still be in bed,” Tobias points out around a yawn.
“Excuse me for wanting to give you space to freak out over having slept with me without meaning to. Again,” I snark at him.
“Don’t remind me,” he mutters, and I feel my heart clench a little bit at the fact that he obviously doesn’t want to think about it.
“Told you that you’d wind up regretting it if you knew,” I sneer, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.
“Stop trying to tell me how I feel, Cane,” Hilton commands, a bite of annoyance in his tone. “You suck at reading me and it pisses me off. Now just lay there, shut up, and watch the movie so I can fall asleep.”
I think seriously about telling him to shove his commands somewhere unpleasant, but I can’t be bothered fighting with him when he’s willing to touch me and cuddle me and when I’m still so exhausted and sore from last night’s escapades.
“Tobias?” I ask a little while later, not even sure if he’s still awake. His breathing is deep and even, but he’s begun drawing soft pictures against my skin where he snuck the arm that he’s cuddling me with under the hem of my shirt.
“Mm?” he grunts questioningly, seeming like he’s not really all with it.
“You said, ‘the rest’ of your Pack,” I whisper to him, feeling a little nervous to be pointing that out but unable to keep from fixating on the idea that he might consider me to be a part of his Pack now.
My breath hitches when he turns his head a little, burrowing through my loose long hair until his lips are pressed softly against the sensitive shell of my ear.
“I know,” he hums into my ear and a little thrill rushes through me.
“Does that mean I’m part of your Pack, too?” I blurt before I can think better of opening myself up to heartache if he reverts to his usual, asshole-ish self.
His only answer is to lean over me further before pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of my mouth. I feel a flutter of butterflies inside my stomach when he follows the kiss with an affectionate, strangely sensual lick to my cheek before shuffling back down behind me and curling his arm around me a little more tightly.
A thousand confused questions flit through my head and the urge to return the strange affection fills me, but I get the feeling that he doesn’t want to talk about it or explain himself. Sighing contentedly and resolving to think more about it some other time, I shuffle around a bit until I’m comfortable, his warmth enveloping me and making me feel sleepy and safe. Before the movie is even midway through, my eyelids flutter closed, and I drop off to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Iwake to the feel of kisses being trailed along the column of my throat and for a moment I wonder if I’m dreaming. The room is dark, though I’m sure it was still morning when I fell asleep. I can’t suppress a shudder of delight when I realize the lips trailing against my skin are Hilton’s. I sigh contentedly. It’s much nicer to be woken by him this way than the way he wakes me when it’s time for a hunt by flicking the lights on and barking at me.
“Tobias?” I ask sleepily, wondering if this is a dream, knowing something must be wrong for him to have let me sleep curled up with him all day and for him to be willingly kissing my neck now.
He makes a noise of affirmation but doesn’t stop kissing my neck.
“What time is it?” I ask him, groping around in the dark as I try to untangle myself from him, so I can read the glowing numbers on my watch. I blink in surprise when I notice that it’s almost nine at night.
“We slept all day,” I tell him, unable to resist stretching my neck out further to give him better access. He takes full advantage of the position, kissing the newly exposed flesh and trailing
down my shoulder to lightly nibble on the marks he’s left on me. I close my eyes again, enjoying the sensation rather than pointing out how strange it is for him to be being so touchy-feely with me and, as I do, a faint clunking sound catches my ear.
“Do you hear that?” I ask Tobias quietly, opening my eyes again, my body tensing.
“It’s the gates,” he murmurs in response. “Greg’s home.”
“Shit!” I curse, pulling away from him so quickly that I roll right off the couch where we’ve been sleeping.
“Are you that embarrassed to be seen with me?” he asks, looking like he can’t decide if he should be offended or amused.
“No, but I’m only wearing your shirt and my clothes are scattered all over the base, thanks to you. I don’t fancy having Greg see my shredded panties, do you?” I ask him, scrambling to my feet and making a break for the upstairs landing, scurrying about as I gather up my destroyed and discarded clothing before bolting into my room. As soon as I dispose of the clothing either to my trash can or my washing basket depending on their state, I jump into the shower, loath to wash Hilton’s scent off my skin but not fancying the discussion with Greg or the rest of the team should they realize that I smell strongly of Tobias all over.
The water scalds down my back, relieving the last of the pain from my abused muscles after last night’s exertions and I make sure to wash my hair thoroughly to remove all traces of the blood that leaked into it from the bites on my shoulder. When I get out, I take a moment to glance at myself in the mirror, noticing that it’s going to be a lot harder to hide the evidence of sleeping with Tobias when I see the scars on my shoulder.
I have healed enough that they have scarred, but they are raised, red and angry. If the team saw them, they would probably drill me with questions of how I got them, and I don’t much fancy the teasing I know would follow. The bruises and scratches he left on me have all healed up and beyond the blush staining my cheeks and the scars there is no evidence of the second night I’ve spent in Tobias Hilton’s bed. My eyes sparkle just a little with happiness and contentment, but I hope that will go unnoticed.
Dragging my wet hair up into a high ponytail I ferret through my closet to find something to wear, entirely too tempted to put Hilton’s shirt back on but thinking better of it. Instead I leave it on the end of my bed, suffering a perverse delusion of snuggling it while I sleep later even though the sensible thing to do would be to wash it and return it. Sighing wistfully, I find a slouchy jumper to wear, pairing it with fleecy pajama bottoms since I have no intention of partaking in any kind of work-out today.
I stuff my feet into some fluffy socks before I leave the room, intent on finding food when I notice my stomach rumbling hungrily. I pause on the stairs when I spot Hilton and Summers in the kitchen. From Greg’s serious expression I can tell Hilton must be filling him in on everything that’s happened while he’s been gone, and I wonder what Summers will make of it all.
Thinking about it, it’s been a crazy few days. The rest of the team still haven’t returned and I’m growing concerned for them. What if they’ve been detained somewhere by crazy Shifters who know they’re on a kill squad with me and are being tortured or brainwashed into turning against me? And that doesn’t even begin to cover what happened with Denali detaining us with the intent of attacking, or the fact that Tobias foolishly went to see him and nearly got himself killed for his trouble.
“Hey Summers,” I say brightly when he glances up at me rather than commenting on my concerns. “How was your trip?”
“Dismal,” he says darkly, and I get the feeling he really doesn’t like going to Faerie.
Since he and Hilton both seem more interested in discussing things than cooking anything, and I’m positively starving, I go to the fridge and begin to dig out ingredients to make a big pasta dish. When I have them assembled, I find myself smiling and wielding a kitchen knife cheerfully, slicing the onions and meats like a professional chef.
When I come to the part where I need to add the jar of sauce to the mixture – not trusting my cooking abilities enough to be able to make anything edible from scratch – I find myself with a dilemma. When I try to turn the lid, it doesn’t budge. I even try using a tea-towel to get a better grip, and resort to jamming a knife under the lid, trying to unlock the air-seal holding the damn thing closed.
Nothing works, and I am mortified when I resort to turning toward Hilton and Summers, feeling very much like a pathetic little weakling for being incapable of opening the jar. Hilton’s eyes are glittering with amusement when he sees my frustrated expression and I scowl at him when I hand him the jar in silence, requiring that he open it. I also resist the urge to stomp my foot and throw a tantrum when he turns the lid with no more effort than I would use to turn a door-knob, popping the lid right off before handing the jar back to me, smirking.
I growl under my breath about human weakness and smarmy werewolves while I go about preparing the rest of the meal. Levelling a glare at Hilton when I hear him chuckle quietly, clearly hearing my muttered rant and finding it highly amusing.
“What are we going to do about the team?” I ask as I’m plating up food for the three of us, looking to Summers for the answer.
“If they’re not back by tomorrow evening, I’ll have to go into town and track them down. They need to be locking themselves up for the full moon during the night tomorrow night, so if they’re not back by then I’ll have to drag them home,” he tells me seriously.
“What are we going to do about Denali?” I throw out my next question as I hand Hilton his plate of food.
He stiffens slightly at the mention of his brother.
“At the moment there’s not much we can do,” Summers answers. “We have no proof that he’s gone rogue.”
“Oh, you mean besides trying to goad Hilton into losing control so that the rest if his Pack could kill me?” I ask sarcastically. “Or maybe you mean beside the fact that he used silver to torture his own brother and almost kill him?”
“Neither of those offences warrant having us expire him,” Summers answers. “When they summoned the two of you, there was nothing more than an exchange of words, no matter the intention they might have had. Similarly, Tobias going to see Denali on his own with no other witnesses outside of the Pack leaves our hands tied. If we try to pursue the charge of torture and attempted murder the Pack will claim Tobias challenged Denali for the Alpha position. With no one else there to vouch for Tobias not doing so, the case will be dismissed. Since we have no proof of them killing humans, there isn’t much we can do.”
I blink at him in shock, outrage filling me as I realize that while it’s well and good to belong to a team that hunts rogue paranormals, the rest of the laws governing paranormals are not so easily understandable.
“So, we do nothing?” I demand, quivering with fury.
“Our hands are tied on this one. Just the way they are with the vampire you were compelled by. Since we have no hard evidence that he was responsible for any of the murders that took place either when you were first tagged or when he lured you and compelled you, we can’t legally hunt him down and expire him, despite your burning desire to do so. Without proof of him murdering humans, there’s nothing we can do.”
“How can that be?” I ask, positively furious. “Does the paranormal world not operate under any laws that dictate how each species should treat each other?”
“They do,” Summers explains, looking sympathetic. “But they do not reflect the type of laws humans operate under. With no proof of human death linked back to Irving Novikov, the Council would argue that he had every right to feed from you and even to compel you to act in certain ways with the intention of feeding from you again. The vampire representative on the Council would make sure to point out that without consuming blood, vampires are soulless monsters, incapable of feeling anything but thirst for more blood. By drinking from humans and vicariously experiencing the thoughts and emotions of their victims they are better able to coe
xist alongside the living.”
“And Denali?” I demand, through gritted teeth.
“You really want to murder my brother?” Hilton asks in a tight voice, looking like he strongly objects to the idea.
“He tried to kill you!” I snap at Tobias, frustrated with him. “He tortured you and almost killed you. If you weren’t so highly trained, you’d have succumbed to silver poisoning and died on the side of the road.”
“He had every right,” Tobias shrugs. “I trespassed on Pack territory without an invitation. He had every right to attack me. The use of silver powder was extreme, and I had hoped, being my brother, he wouldn’t try to kill me, but it was an assumed risk I took the minute I stepped onto Pack territory.”
“He’s rabid, Tobias,” I argue with him. “You do realize that, don’t you? I get it that he may well be your only living relative and that you’re probably messed up over learning he’s still alive, but he is unstable at best and downright insane at worst. He was held and tortured by his own family for four years. And I doubt they chose to just willingly let him go after that long. Meaning he probably slaughtered the whole lot of them when he escaped. He goaded you and tried to get you to lose control of yourself so that he could fight you while the Pack tore me apart. Just because he changed his tune at the end does not excuse that. Had I not distracted you to keep you from shifting, we’d both be dead by now!”
“But we’re not,” he points out. “And the Council won’t prosecute him for murdering hunters like my mother’s family were. They might be human, but they are so far from innocent that the Council prefers to simply let them die without punishing whoever kills them.”
“And that just makes it okay?” I demand. “He’s in charge of an entire Pack and he’s liable to snap his bolt at any time, probably dragging the whole lot of them into madness along with him.”
“There’s nothing to be done about it until he actually goes rogue,” Summers intervenes, clearly sensing the oncoming argument between Hilton and me. “But we will be keeping a close eye on the activities of Denali and his Pack.”
