They’d made it months, with some lasting up to a couple years before it simply drove them insane and they totally lost control. In trying to hide, the man or woman gave too much power to their other side and melted away. It was fascinating on paper, but now that Mila was seeing a real-world example, it was less fascinating than it was scary.
Shifting was linked to hormones, as silly as it sounded. Teenage werewolves shifted endlessly as they went through their various pubescent dramas, but adults followed the same basic rule: high intensity things gave them the need to change. Things like fighting or stressing were the worst, along with sex.
Mila watched the deer watch them cautiously from afar. “That’s really, really not healthy.” Doctor Mila, checking in.
“It’s not me. I can’t control it.”
She knew she probably shouldn’t ask it, but she did anyway. “Have you ever tried with people there to keep you in check?” Most of the patients she’d heard of went insane after a couple years at the max. Fourteen years, simply put, wasn’t like abstinence or fasting from certain foods. The effects it had were only comparable to solitary confinement, and Maurice had been doing it for most of Mila’s life.
He grimaced. “Once.”
“I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” Normally, she wouldn’t be so pushy, but it was as though she’d been talking to him and he’d said, yeah, I sometimes black out and murder young women I’m supposed to protect. This was something she needed to get a handle on.
Her guess was correct. Maurice took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “No, it did not.” He seemed to be making a mental effort to level out his breathing pattern. “I was too strong. They had to knock me out.”
By now, Maurice had cooled off enough that Mila felt comfortable asking him some questions without worrying. One burned at the tip of her tongue that she simply couldn’t force herself to ask: how the hell was he supposed to protect her if he couldn’t even use his abilities without turning into a raging psycho? She kept prodding around it, hoping he’d come to it and cover it without her having to ask.
Luckily, he did. “I know what you’re thinking.”
Mila scanned him. “Yeah?”
“I can control it, and if it comes down to it, there are others who can defend you. It’s been more than a decade. I can hold it back.”
Okay, not the exact answer Mila had been hoping for. She’d been shooting more along the lines of oh, yeah, totally. To be fair, he had been honest with her. It did beg the question—what was he capable of in wolf form? When she’d “fought” him back when they’d first met, he hadn’t been trying to hurt her. She got the feeling that he was capable of dealing immense damage, even in human form.
Mila sighed. This wasn’t how her day was supposed to go, but at least she wasn’t having violent problems with who she was like Maurice. More to the point, it was coming close to the time to decide on what she would do: work with the Deadwoods or run solo. Every minute that her parents went unprotected, they could be in danger.
“I want your help.” The choice was easier than she expected. She’d still been thinking about it when she heard herself answer. “I’ll do what I can to make this right, but I have some conditions. I need proof that this is all real.”
Maurice nodded. Was that a smile? “You made the right choice.”
He took one more lingering gaze at the water before surging up and helping her to her feet. “Let’s go tell Reuben.”
* * *
Telling Reuben made her more excited the more she thought about it.
She and Maurice spent some time away from civilization before coming back to the complex. Maurice assured her that the Khan was still there and that he would be thrilled to hear the good news. The way he said it, it didn’t sound like he was talking about Reuben. He was talking about himself. She couldn’t imagine how much he must hate Fang for what he did to him and to his brother.
He detailed the process to her while they hiked back. First, they’d contact that DAE and tell them they’d found proof against Fang. She’d provide the evidence and testify to them about what she saw without having Fang anywhere near, and that was the conclusion of her commitment. She’d go back to her normal life and leave this wild world behind.
Mila wondered why she didn’t want that.
She ought to be begging to go back to the flaTs. She should miss her life and want to go back to accounting. She had missed her exam, which wasn’t a huge deal, but it was annoying enough that she thought about it. Her old life should call her back, away from this action and danger.
But she didn’t listen.
She realized it when they were walking. She didn’t want to go back to her life. She didn’t know what was in this crazy one she’d stumbled into, but it thrilled her. She’d been handed adventure and soon, she’d have to give it back.
For now, she was content. Confused, but content. Hopefully in the future it would all add up. Right then, she was a girl hanging out with a werewolf Baron. No big deal. Just another day. No reason to get worked up about it. Even when he pulled his phone out and hastily texted someone before putting it away, she didn’t worry about it. Nothing could bother her.
It turned out to be much less grand than Mila had anticipated. When leaving the forest, she had this majestic vision of what was going to happen: they’d come to the Khan and tell the powerful leader that she wanted to help him, to which he’d call for a feast and a celebration and everyone would be all thrilled and happy and so forth.
Mila forgot to consider that her very existence was a secret, so no parties would be thrown in her honour no matter what she did. It was better that way. She preferred no parties and living to having a party and getting taken out before she could testify. What, exactly, was she going to testify about? Just that she’d seen a werewolf fight go down? Of course, she still had the camera, and she was banking on the theory that she had the film safely backed up on a server. She would’ve already checked it if she’d had any way to, but her phone and laptop were nowhere to be seen, not to mention her purse in general, and all her credit cards….
The pep in her step decreased. Ah, dammit. She’d forgotten about all that. At the moment, all her accounts could be maxed out. If there was one place you didn’t want to leave credit cards, identification, and basically everything else at, it was a seedy paranormal bar at two or three in the morning. Even with the fight, someone must’ve come along and been like, “ooh, lookie here.” And then Mila would go on a buying spree, according to the bank. She’d already had tiffs with them before. She’d butted heads on everything, from the time they changed her zip code without asking after she lost her old card to the time someone actually stole her information and was ripping her off. This would be part three, and soon enough, the bank would get awful suspicious about how often she lost track of her finances.
Mila groaned dramatically as they walked. Maurice picked up on it and didn’t respond, coaxing yet another groan out of Mila. He said nothing with a poorly hidden smile, so she took it up a notch and made a sound not unlike something a Kraken might produce.
Maurice finally broke and laughed. “What is it?”
Mila, slightly miffed but mostly entertained, laid out her pre-planned speech about how she’d now have to contact the bank, and maybe could she borrow his phone and tell them to cancel the cards and a bunch of other things. To her surprise, he shook his head and put his phone back in his pocket.
Mila worked her way back through what she’d said in her mind. No, she’d said it right. He was simply declining her. “But why? I need to.”
“Because…” He trailed off for dramatic effect as they crested the hill into sight of the complex. “You can use your own phone.”
Mila tried to make sense of that statement. “See, the words you’re saying are English, but they don’t—”
At that precise moment, she spotted him: the only true love of her life—Liam Nissan, her beloved truck. He sat out by the fleet of other, more professi
onal vehicles out front. If she hadn’t seen first-hand a giant beast smash him to pieces, she would have never known he sustained damage at all. Everything was the same, even down to the bumper stickers. He looked as ready as the first day she’d ever gotten in.
A girlish shriek of joy escaped her as she pranced over to it. “Liam!”
Maurice made a mild attempt to catch up with her. He made it to her by the time Mila had thrown open the door and found, to her amazement, the interior was perfectly fine. “What did you call it?”
“Liam!” Mila brushed the seat cover lovingly. “Liam Nissan!”
Maurice gave it a good attempt to be serious. He tried hard to hide his smile, but alas, it cracked through and he snorted in amusement at the absurd name. Mila was too excited to even notice. Her precious Liam returned to her! She figured he was beyond repair and would be remembered fondly. Everything on him had been broken.
They’d fixed him.
The Deadwolves had repaired him in record time. But why? A gurgling negative feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. Was this a bribe? Was she being bought here? “Why…why did they do this?” she asked quietly.
Maurice leaned against the Nissan. “Because it was the right thing to do.”
She saw several figurines on the dash—a Schleich Dunkleosteus and his pal the Dimetrodon, along with a slightly bent horny toad replica she’d bought in Big Bend. Someone had put some effort into getting this all back the way it was. They were in the wrong place, but obviously, a real attempt had been made. “I don’t know how comfortable I am with this.”
“It’s not a bribe, and you don’t owe us anything.” Once more, he picked her worry straight out of her brain without her having to vocalize it. “Look.” He fished his phone out. “I texted them while we were coming up to bring it out. You already said you wanted to help.”
The proof was in the pudding, and sure enough, he was telling the truth. Mila didn’t hide her childish delight. Good ole’ Liam. She thought she’d never see him again. It wasn’t entirely perfect. They had fixed things she didn’t want fixed, like the wind breaker on the front and the cracked glovebox, but they could hardly know that. The dinosaurs were in the wrong spots and her mirrors were wonky, but dammit, Liam was alive and that was what mattered.
Maurice continued to sooth her concerns. “If you’d said no, we would still have given it to you. Check the glovebox.”
Mila eagerly did, throwing open the glovebox without thinking. In hindsight, it was a poor decision. Since she jerked it open instead of doing it slowly, everything inside came spilling out like it had been launched out of a canon. She saw her purse and phone before everything tumbled out and spread across the ground.
“Ah, dammit!” Mila grabbed what she could and put it in the passenger seat. While bending over and picking up some mints off the ground, she caught a glimpse of Maurice’s half-naked body. She looked away before she could get any naughty thoughts and blush again. No sir. This was perfectly clean and had every intention of keeping it that way. For now, at least.
Together, the two got everything back in the truck. Most of the stuff wasn’t important, but she checked to make sure she had her cards and phone. After finding both, she pulled her iPhone out to discover it was dead as a doornail.
“Are you happy with it?” Maurice’s question came out of left field for her. It wasn’t the words. The words were to be expected. It was the expression in it, the way he said it. He cared. This wasn’t a formality. He genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy.
Mila turned to him with a broad smile. “Thank you, Maurice.”
She only said two words. She meant a dozen more. Thank you for saving her. Thank you for helping her not be afraid. Thank you for caring. Thank you for everything.
By the look on his face, he knew exactly what she meant.
Chapter 15
The Khan was gone.
Apparently, something desperately needing his attention had come up and he’d been forced to fly to another location to deal with it.
Maurice assured her it would be some time until they could meet up and suggested that, in the meantime, they focus on cleaning her up. He was sure to point out that her parents would be taken care of immediately, so she had nothing to worry about.
Mila had a lot to worry about, namely Fang getting someone to come after her, even there. She didn’t vocalize the concerns. Maurice was smart enough to know that it would have to worry her already, and his presence comforted her. Shifting worries or not, she knew she was safe around him. He put off a vibe of being able to protect her that was immensely attractive to her.
The next period of time was a whirlwind to Mila. She got a shower after she fought Sir Pugsly off, who insisted that he smell every square inch of her lower legs. She wondered if he could pick up the scent of werewolves and saw them as other dogs fighting for dominance.
When she turned her phone on, she had about as many messages as she had expected: a dozen. Bianca had the accounting class with her and they always sat together, so it was not hard to imagine that Bianca would wonder what happened after Mila didn’t show up. Bianca had a habit of panicking to start with. Finding Mila’s apartment busted up was sure to make her nearly hyperventilate. Sure enough, eleven of the twelve messages were from her, including three phone calls. One text was from another dude in the class, Allen, who was trying to smooth-talk her into giving him the answers for the extra credit.
No messages were from her parents. She saw that one coming. They didn’t talk often, and when they did, it was in a professional way. She gave Bianca a call back and calmed her friend down, which was an impressive feat to start with. The facts were that Mila had been stolen from her residence and killers came to her door later, but she couldn’t tell her that Once on the phone, Bianca sounded about like Mila had expected: freaked out.
Mila did her best to assure her that everything was fine. She was safe and in good hands. She didn’t get into it much and she didn’t tell Bianca the truth. She lied, which actively made her sick to her stomach to do. The door thing had been Mila herself. She’d shown up tired and forgotten her keys, so she kicked the door down. Following the incident, she decided she needed a break and contacted the school to get medical leave for mental health reasons, but she was absolutely fine and there was no reason to worry or call the police or anything. Bianca couldn’t handle the reality of the situation. She needed to sit down and breathe into a paper bag if she got a zit. Kidnappings and murders weren’t her cup of tea.
So, deep down, Mila knew it was the best thing to do. Still, she was fully aware that she was alienating herself from her friend. Mila liked being a loner, but it was nice to have someone to confide in. Bianca had always fit that role. Now, not so much.
The next few days whirled by. Mila adapted to her new life and even came around to enjoying it. Not even once did she have to do her laundry. Shakkara, who she finally realized was supposed to be her caretaker, made sure everything was taken care of by the staff and that Mila was a guest of honour. Mila didn’t talk with her often, but each time they chatted, it left a funky taste in Mila’s mouth. Shakkara was utterly, painfully oblivious.
The Cheeky Sprite contacted her to find out where she was after she forgot to show up for a shift. She told them that she wasn’t going to be able to work for a while and that they could consider this a temporary leave. Most people couldn’t get away with it, but the owner loved Mila. If she wanted it, she would almost certainly have a job waiting for her when she returned.
Maurice acted oddly for a while after his transformation incident. She initially left him alone because she thought that’s what he wanted, but a talk with Shakkara made her aware that he felt uncomfortable and thought Mila didn’t want to talk to him. That was simply ridiculous, so she teased him out of his shell and they spent many hours wandering around the complex in boredom, talking about anything and everything. Mila got more and more relaxed in his presence and began to crave the time they spent togeth
er.
He, in turn, came out more in the open and was more willing to show vulnerabilities in himself. They didn’t speak again about the incident, which she could tell he appreciated. Since the first time they made love, they had something of a dry spell. Mila didn’t mind terribly. She liked to get to know someone without hormones getting all in the way. She couldn’t help but suspect that he was afraid of losing control if they made love again, though he never outright said it.
His concern with the shifting diminished as time went on. He told Mila that he thought her presence was soothing him somehow. She liked to believe that, though she treaded lightly on the issue.
The Khan personally called her to apologize for his disappearance. Although he didn’t go into specifics, he was clear that he had no choice and that business had come up again. Mila was disappointed that she might not see the talkative, charismatic leader again, but she did understand. He told her that he was thrilled to hear of her choice and told her that he would set up a meeting with her and the DAE within a week or two so she could testify and complete her end of the bargain.
After a while, it didn’t feel like a bargain anymore. It felt like a gift. She loved living this way, but it was more than that; it was the talks with Maurice, the way he’d tell her about the constellations on clear night skies, how he obviously despised apricots for some unknown reason.
She was falling in love with him.
There were few words that Mila hated more than those terrible three: “I love you.” They came with such immense danger. What if the other person didn’t feel the same way? What if she said them and he just kinda looked away? Even more than that, it meant hurt. Mila’s relationships in the past had been rocky at best and catastrophic at worst. Her parents seemed to use her more as a bargaining chip than as a child. Every boyfriend she ever got was either too much of a pushover or a player. Most of her friends ended up talking shit about her behind her back. Mila had, at one point or another, given up on the idea of love. She’d never seen any solid proof that it existed, and besides, that kind of relationship was more a vulnerability than anything else to her. The people you cared about the most were the ones who could hurt you the most.
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