by Juniper Hart
“I’m not asking you anything,” Nicoy said quietly. “Except that you do not lie to me again.”
Laurel raised her head and nodded slowly.
“I won’t lie if you don’t press me for answers,” she told him softly. “And the minute the weather clears, I need to go. I don’t have a choice.”
He nodded solemnly but Laurel could read his thoughts clearly as he lay back down at her side, wrapping her in his strong arms.
He’s never going to let me go. I can tell.
The notion was bittersweet. Sooner or later, she was going to have to make a decision and someone was ultimately going to get hurt.
12
They spent the night in each other’s arms, talking about nothing of great consequence. Nicoy took great pains not to ask personal questions, despite the fact that his curiosity was burning at him. He had made a promise to Laurel and he intended to keep it, difficult as it was.
He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with Xander in the morning but that was a few hours off.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?” he finally asked, limiting the endless queries into one short sentence.
Laurel propped her head up on her hand and stared at him.
“No…” she said but there was little conviction in her voice.
I wish she’d give me a clue. Is Xander right about her? Is she some kind of government official or is it something more nefarious?
It was difficult to reconcile that the woman lying so delicately in his grasp was capable of anything off-color but then again, she had been lying to him about her amnesia. Could she be withholding something sinister too?
Stop it, he growled to himself. You’re not doing this.
Eventually, he succumbed to the sleep he had been fighting and when he woke, Laurel wasn’t in his bed.
Instantly, he leapt off the mattress and headed into the house, the smell of bacon assaulting his nostrils the moment he opened the door. Instantly, he relaxed, knowing that it wasn’t Xander trying his hand at making breakfast.
“Good morning,” Laurel chirped, turning away from the stove to give him a soft smile. “How did you sleep?”
“With you,” Nicoy replied, returning her beam. His eyes trailed toward the window and he noted with some glee that the rain had not stopped but the wind had died down.
It’ll be over in the next day and then what?
Then he would go back to work on the fishing boats with Xander and where would Laurel go?
“Does she live here now?”
Xander’s caustic comment caused both their smiles to fade as he ambled into the kitchen, casting them a half-smirk.
“Good morning to you too, dear,” Nicoy said sarcastically.
“I’ll be leaving as soon as the weather clears, Xander,” Laurel told him, shooting Nicoy a wary look. “By the looks of it, very soon.”
“Stay, go, I don’t care,” Xander grumbled, flopping down at the kitchen table. “Is there coffee?”
Laurel turned to oblige his request and Nicoy gave his housemate a scathing look.
“Didn’t we agree you were going to give it a rest?” he hissed, hoping that Laurel wouldn’t hear them.
“Who died and made you king of the cabin?” Xander retorted.
“Very mature, Xan,” Nicoy sighed. “Do you realize that Laurel almost took off last night because of you?”
Xander’s face paled slightly and he raised his head.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, she almost went out into the storm last night because of all the bullshit you’ve been giving her.”
Xander was silent for a moment, his eyes trailing toward the redhead. There was an indecipherable expression on his face.
“Is that what she told you?” he asked, a peculiar note to his voice.
“What? I caught her trying to sneak off,” Nicoy growled. “What are you going on about?”
“Or maybe that’s just what she told you,” Xander said with a smirk. “Maybe she was going to meet with someone—”
“Here’s your coffee,” Laurel interrupted, placing a mug in front of him. “Are you hungry?”
Nicoy could tell that Xander wanted to refuse but his mouth was watering at the smell and he shrugged, nodding.
“Yeah.”
“Good. There’s a ton of food.”
She returned to the counter and started preparing three dishes for their meal as Nicoy whipped his head back toward Xander.
“I think you have some kind of vitamin deficiency,” Nicoy told him sternly. He needed to get Xander away from his fixation with Laurel. “Your brain is lacking in some critical mineral.”
“Or you’re just so enamored by a pretty face, you won’t see what’s right in front of you.”
I know what’s right in front of me, Nicoy thought grimly. I just don’t want you to know.
“Oh, hey…” Laurel called out to them slowly as though she was considering if she should ask what was on her mind.
“Hm?”
“Did… I mean, probably not or you would have mentioned it, but…did you happen to find anything with me? A bag or a purse or something?”
Nicoy stifled a groan.
“Do you remember having something with you?” Xander asked with interest.
“No, no,” Laurel lied. “I was just thinking that maybe it would help identify who I am.”
“That’s right. Because you don’t know who you are,” Xander laughed.
“Xan, I swear to God…” Nicoy snarled, his patience expiring.
“Never mind,” Laurel said quickly, pivoting away. “It was a dumb question.”
“No,” Xander said suddenly. “It wasn’t a dumb question at all. In fact, it was a very smart question.”
Nicoy felt the hairs on his arms raise as he studied his roommate.
What are you up to now? he thought but he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Xander retreated into his room, leaving Laurel and Nicoy to get in that chess game after all.
“I haven’t played in eons,” Laurel laughed, placing the pawns in their proper places as Nicoy took over the dark pieces.
“Eli used to play all the time, but Xan isn’t big on board games.”
“Chess isn’t a board game. It’s life,” Laurel chuckled. “You can tell a lot about a person by the way they play chess.”
Nicoy raised an eyebrow, wondering if that was her philosophy or something she’d picked up somewhere.
“How do you figure?” he asked, intrigued by the statement.
“Well, you have impulsive players who simply act on what they see and then you have planners.”
“Which one are you?” Nicoy wanted to know.
“I’m not giving you my chess strategy,” she laughed. “You’ll have to figure that out for yourself.”
His foot rested against hers and he was again overcome by a powerful sense of adulation.
Why do I feel like I’ve known her forever when I don’t know anything about her? How is that even possible?
But Nicoy had already discovered that fighting the attraction was futile.
“You’re bothered by what I told you last night, aren’t you?” she murmured. His head popped up and he shook his head.
“No…I mean, not really. I respect your privacy but yes, I would like to know more about you.”
Laurel pressed her lips together and moved her queen’s pawn two spaces to open.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you,” she murmured. “It’s that I’ve sworn an oath.”
She’s not making it any easier when she says things like that.
“Can you tell me why your wound has completely healed?” he asked. Laurel’s eyes widened and she looked at him.
“You noticed that, huh?” she mumbled.
“It’s kind of hard not to,” he snorted. “Why do you heal so fast?”
She paused, her pupils dilating as she looked for the words to say.
“I’m going to tell you something
that you might not believe,” she said quietly. “But it’s true and…well, it will probably shock you.”
He waited expectantly, his eyes searching for clues as to what she might have to say.
“I’m a fox,” she started simply.
“That seems to be a consensus around here,” he replied, smiling, but Laurel didn’t return his expression.
“No, Nic, I’m…I’m really a fox.”
His brow furrowed in confusion.
“What does that even mean?” he asked, wondering for the first time if perhaps Laurel wasn’t stable.
She sighed heavily and moved the chessboard from between them, placing it on the coffee table. From there, she took his hands in hers and squeezed them.
“In this world, there are beings you’ve probably heard about,” she explained slowly. “Vampires, shifters, fairies, demons…”
Nicoy had not been expecting any of that. He drew back, trying to keep his expression neutral.
“Right…” he agreed slowly. “Urban legends and myths.”
“Except they’re not,” Laurel sighed. “They exist. We exist and we’re far more common than you think.”
“You’re one of these creatures?” It was impossible to keep the disbelief from his voice.
“I’m a fox shifter,” she replied quietly. “I’m both immortal and able to heal with relative ease.”
Nicoy couldn’t stop himself from scoffing.
“We found you half-dead,” he reminded her, angry that he was entertaining her words.
After all this, she’s just mentally unstable. Why didn’t I listen to Xander?
But there was nothing but clarity and a slight look of pity in Laurel’s eyes as she stared at him.
“That’s because the vise was still around my leg when you found me. It was an ongoing injury. The second you removed the bear trap, I began to heal. Did you not notice how little I bled in the aftermath?”
“I…” Nicoy trailed off, realizing what she was saying was true, but he still couldn’t align himself with the thought that she was some kind of half-animal. There had to be some other explanation for what he’d seen.
“I would prove it to you, but I don’t want Xander to see me,” she went on. “Come with me to the bedroom and I’ll show you.”
She rose and Nicoy stared after her in disbelief.
She really believes it. I may as well humor her.
Begrudgingly, he raised his body and trailed after her, his eyes darting behind him as if he expected Xander to come to his rescue, but his roommate’s door remained closed.
“Come on,” Laurel urged him, waving him further into the house. “Follow me.”
Nicoy was beginning to wonder if his safety was in jeopardy but he didn’t resist when Laurel closed the door behind him.
Without another word or a forewarning, she fell forward, her arms becoming long, reddish-brown legs, a thick white and orange tail elongating behind her. A snout jutted up to sniff the air and Nicoy choked, reeling backward as he realized he was staring at the same green eyes he’d grown to love over mere hours.
“L-Laurel?” he sputtered. As quickly as she’d become the animal, she was back in her human body, offering him a small, timid smile.
“It’s me,” she assured him. “Do you believe me now?”
Overwhelmed by what he’d just learned, he fell back onto the bed, shaking his head in disbelief.
“How? How can this be?”
“There are a lot more of us than you might think,” Laurel told him, perching beside him cautiously. “You don’t need to be afraid of me.”
He whipped his head around, his eyes growing huge.
“Afraid?” he echoed. “I’m awed! I don’t understand how this is possible, but it’s incredible! Tell me more! Tell me everything!”
Laurel’s face relaxed and she nodded, sinking back onto her elbows.
“Do you live together? Do you work together?”
“We’re just like you mortals,” she told him. “We have jobs and houses. For the most part, the humans don’t know much about us.”
“What can you do? I mean besides live forever and become an animal and heal…” he trailed off, looking sheepish. “I guess that’s enough, isn’t it?”
“Different beings can do different things,” she said slowly. “Some vampires can turn into bats, some witches are able to fly…”
“Witches?” His disbelief only grew. “Do you have some kind of supernatural army or something?”
He knew he sounded like a little kid, but it was a lot to take in. To his surprise, the question appeared to upset her.
“We’re very divided,” she explained quietly. “We tend to keep to our own packs, clans, and respective groups. We’ve been at odds for some time now.”
“Too many cocks in the henhouse?” Nicoy guessed.
“No,” Laurel replied flatly. “The cocks who are pulling at the strings are deliberately turning us all against one another.”
Nicoy frowned.
“If you know that, why don’t you do something?” he asked, unsure if he had any right to ask about shifter politics, given his newfound knowledge.
“Some of us are,” Laurel said enigmatically. “But the damage may have already been done beyond repair.”
“Nothing is ever damaged beyond repair,” Nicoy corrected. “It just might take more time and effort but there is always hope.”
Laurel’s face softened as she looked at him.
“Do you really believe that?” she asked. “That everything can be fixed?”
He nodded vehemently.
“Of course,” he replied. Laurel slid toward him, wonderment in her eyes.
“I hope you’re right,” she murmured, raising her head to drop a kiss on his lips before pulling away. “For all our sakes.”
“You make things sound so ominous,” he teased but he had a feeling that her heart was heavy in that moment.
“It’s much worse that I can explain,” she sighed and Nicoy realized they were back into “no discussion” territory.
What the hell can be bigger than the fact that shifters, demons, vampires, and the like exist in this world?
Whatever it was, Nicoy suddenly wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
13
The angel on his shoulder told him to turn around and go home.
The devil urged him forward, chanting, “It’s not much further now. Just up here.”
Xander ignored both voices and pushed through the woods, the rain pelting at his face.
You’re acting like a petty fool—or a psychopath, he told himself, wondering why he couldn’t just leave it alone. Yet the more he thought about Laurel, the more Xander knew that there was something off about her and he wouldn’t rest until he figured it out.
He wondered if this obsession had anything to do with Eli and the way he had up and left so abruptly the previous year.
All the signs were there that he wasn’t happy, but I just didn’t see them. I won’t let my best friend make the same mistake I did. Nic is smitten with this woman but she’s not who she claims to be.
A part of him felt guilty for not giving Laurel a chance. Truthfully, if the circumstances had been different, he would have liked Laurel. There was something refreshing and bright about her. They might have even been friends.
I shouldn’t have stopped for her, he thought bitterly but more shame filled him at the thought. He didn’t hate the woman. He just didn’t trust her.
He was soaked to his core. After retreating to his room, he had snuck out the window like a thief in the night, determined to find the site where they had first seen Laurel. He didn’t want Nicoy to know what he was up to, lest he come back empty-handed.
Whoever she is, there’s a trace of her where we found her.
It had been Laurel herself who had given him the idea, mentioning the lost bag.
She doesn’t have amnesia. She’s hiding something big and when I find out what it is, she’s going to have to co
me clean with Nicoy and get out of our lives.
Xander paused against a tree and wiped the spray of rain from his face.
“Old Ivory,” he mumbled, knowing exactly where he was now. The spot was just beyond the line of birch trees.
The mud was thick and Xander wished he’d thought to sneak his boots out, but it was too late for that now. He’d be there and back in no time.
Tromping through the mushy ground, he came across the bear trap and exhaled. In his mind’s eye he saw Laurel lying pale and listless on the ground. There had been nothing secretive or elusive about her or his fear in that moment. All he’d wanted was for her to live and be safe.
Aw, dude. What are you doing? he groaned to himself, suddenly overcome by a heavy sense of reality. This isn’t a game. She isn’t Eli. Go home and stop being a dinkus. Apologize to her and Nicoy before Laurel really does run off and hurt herself because of you.
The sensible words made him straighten his spine and he turned away, determined to forsake this ridiculous game.
At that moment, he saw it and Xander froze for a moment, unsure of what to do.
The canvas bag was half-buried in the mud but Xander had no doubt it was exactly what he had come in search of.
Leave it. Just leave it.
But he couldn’t now that he had seen it. Whatever was inside that bag held the truth about who Laurel was and how she’d come to be by their property thirty-six hours earlier.
One peek and then I’ll put it back, he vowed, ambling toward it. Beads of sweat formed over his brow and intermingled with the droplets of water falling from the sky.
Shoving aside all the doubts, he snatched up the satchel and threw it open. His brow furrowed as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.
Slides, petri dishes, and maps of the area were scattered in the bag.
A feeling of dread seized his gut. He knew what this was. It wasn’t the first time Big Oil had sent environmentalists to the area, looking to pillage the country.
The loggers didn’t send her, Big Oil did. If it isn’t one group trying to ruin our home, it’s another.
Grunting in disgust, he slung the bag over his neck and spun toward the road. He wanted to see Laurel lie her way out of this.
