“Mika?” I hear again when I bite my lips and twist to check myself out like a voyeur.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?”
I don’t answer right away when I start inspecting my face to see the tiny scar on my cheek, a skateboarding accident that saw me take three stiches and Mom burning my skateboard.
It’s gone.
As is the scar I had on my stomach from junior high where this doofus stuck me while running with scissors. True story, my mom was totally right about not running with scissors.
The longer I look, the more it becomes clear that I am…healed. I guess you could say I am healed because I am damn near perfect now. No blemishes. Nothing.
My face is clear, glowing, and there isn’t one part of me that doesn’t show signs of improvement.
“It’s the blood.”
I whip around, gasping when I see Julia standing in the doorway, her eyes twinkling when I gape and make a grab for the towel. She comes in, giggling when I blush and try to cover myself, shaking her head at my frantic movements.
“You shouldn’t hide, Meek. You have a beautiful body.”
“Because your brother and parents’ blood has fixed it all,” I say, tightening the towel at my chest with a yank.
She smiles but doesn’t seem put out with my tone of resentment and gives me a shove out of the bathroom. Once there she shows me jeans, a tank top, and a flannel shirt in a deep blue lying on the now neat bed.
“First of all, you were already perfect before the blooding so don’t put yourself down that way. Secondly, nice boobs. Now get dressed, bitch, we got stuff to do.”
“Stuff?” I ask, contorting to get my panties and bra on with the towel still wrapped tightly around my body.
Julia sighs and flops onto my bed, her own jeans and t-shirt making her look younger than I suspect she is, as she stares at her sneakers, avoiding looking at me. Likely because she can tell I am not comfortable with nudity on display.
“Stuff. Mom and Dad have left to go talk to your boss and make sure your roommates know where you are, and I have volunteered for the task of ‘integrating’ you into our community.”
I really do not like the sound of that. I don’t want people talking to Bess and the girls or doing anything that will mean unequivocally that I am staying here.
In the back of my mind, I keep harboring the small hope that I can leave eventually. Stupid, I know, but it’s comforting!
“I don’t think—”
“I know, I know. You’re still a little skeptical about this whole shifter thing, and you’re also thinking you’re crazy and delusional—”
“Er, no. I saw some hottie coming out of the trees in the early hours of the morning, and he so totally was a wolf like five seconds before he changed,” I say, giggling when she blinks. “Trust me, I am fully aware that I am neither crazy, nor being punked.”
Julia grins, flashing me a set of pearly white teeth before shaking her head.
“You must have freaked the hell out! How cool was it, and did you see his ass?”
I grin, recalling everything I did see, and wiggle my eyebrows while sighing dreamily.
“I saw it all, and may I say that shifter men are totally big. Everywhere.”
She barks out a laugh, and I finish dressing and slip my feet into white sneakers before shaking my head and returning to the issue.
“I don’t think I want to go out there yet,” I admit, not liking that I’m being a coward, but so totally not up for seeing Bear yet.
I was awake for a while last night, and what I realized is that as much as I ha—well, I don’t really hate him, more like I am pissed at him. As pissed as I am though, something inside me recognizes him for whatever reason, and no matter how I want to deny it, I hurt. It sucks knowing that the guy my body wants doesn’t want me, and it is not great knowing that right now he’s got a girlfriend and is likely having sex with her.
It hurts. It’s confusing. It’s embarrassing because if what I suspect from our location is true, then this place is like a little town, and I would bet money everyone here will know everyone’s business.
These people are probably saying something along the lines of “Guess what! The new girl is human, and Bear rejected her because she’s so not his type.” I have a feeling that’s me being optimistic somehow, so I’d really rather not go out there and experience the real reality of this situation.
“Mika, honey, I get that. Trust me, I really do, but here’s the thing; you can’t hide out in here and let people think you’re weak,” Julia argues, giving me a stern look.
“Weak? Julia—”
“Jules. Call me Jules, and before you argue with me hear this, Bear and Hannah are not hiding out right now trying to avoid people. They’re out and about, not giving a shit about what went down. Well okay, I know Bear feels bad about how things went down, but he’s still with a female he considers his mate when we all know that’s not true. That sucks, and yeah I get that it’s not easy for you—”
“Not easy? Jules, it sucks. One minute I was just a normal girl, trying to figure out how I was going to live through a double shift with my feet killing me and exhaustion riding my ass, and then the next I was going crazy and finding out that a werewolf worked some mojo on me and left me for dead. Basically. This isn’t easy at all, and to make it all worse, I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach and spat on. And I shouldn’t feel that way because it just isn’t right to feel like I love your brother! It isn’t right! And yet I think I do!” I yell, falling into the chair beside the bed and covering my face.
God, this is so bad. So, so bad.
Admitting the shit that’s running through my head and heart isn’t easy for me, especially not when I know how crazy it is, and yet it’s what I feel, what I was fighting all through this morning, and even while in the shower, thinking about what I am going to do.
I am in love with a man I don’t know, like, or trust, and no amount of denying it or telling myself it is stupid will change that.
Thanks a fuckload, Mother Nature. Just thanks.
Jules gives me a look filled with sympathy, and despite my refusal to acknowledge it, I know that she won’t be the last to look at me that way if I walk out of the door.
The fact is, I’m going to get those looks the minute anyone sees me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
Right now, it really sucks to be me.
I have two choices, well three, really. I can go out there and pretend I don’t care, which isn’t in my genetic code, stay here and become some weird vampire who sees no daylight and needs other people’s blood, or I could leave and possibly die.
The last two aren’t actual choices, not if I want some kind of life in the future, so I guess this is it for me.
“Oh, Meek,” she sighs, going to her haunches in front of me and taking both of my hands in her firm grip.
I really like Jules, and I think that in time we’ll be like sisters—Ironic!—but that look in her eye, though pitying, is very determined, and I get the sense that she’ll beat me to a pulp unless I obey her.
“You know, my mom used to tell me that meeting Dad was the scariest thing she ever felt. She said it was like everything just stopped and she could feel so intensely she felt her blood bubble in her veins. The bond Fated share is supposed to be this symbiotic mix that ensures they always protect and love each other. If one is hurt, the other feels it and will move mountains to fix it.”
I snort, shaking my head, and chuckle humorlessly.
“I don’t think your brother got the memo.”
“Fuck my brother.”
I already tried.
“Jules, I don’t want this to be a problem for you—”
“It won’t be. I may be pissed at Bear, but I still love him. Doesn’t mean I can’t let him know what an idiot he is every chance I get though. Now, as for the love thing, that is real and right. I—goddamn it—wish you didn’t feel that way because severi
ng that connection is going to take time and hurt. You’ll survive it though, and I promise, Meek, I will be with you every step of the way. If you’re strong enough,” she says meaningfully, making me groan.
“This is you telling me I have to go out there and pretend I don’t care, right?”
She grins and leaps up, dragging me with her, her grip firm and unrelenting.
“Nope, this is me telling you that we’re doing this shit—whether you are willing or not— and I’ll still love you if you curse at me.”
My groan is loud and tortured, but I don’t resist when she pulls me along behind her and rips the door open, dragging me out onto the landing.
My first impression of Nick and Prissy’s home is OMG. The place is huge and beautiful and just…wow. The place reminds me of a log cabin with those honey -colored walls made entirely of wood. But that is where the cabin theme ends.
It’s huge and classy, and I would never mistake this place for somewhere you go out in the wild. There are paintings on the walls as Jules tows me along behind her, expensive paintings that I know would buy many a house, and everywhere I look I see luxury.
The carpet beneath my feet is a burgundy stretch of softness that seems never to have seen feet, and there are so many doors I wonder how many rooms there are.
The stairs, when we get there lead down to a large entrance hall with marble underfoot, and as I turn in a circle to take in the ground floor, I gasp and sigh at the same time.
Open-floorplan designs are my thing, and that is prevalent here, where I see a large living room with an even larger fireplace, comfy brown sofas, and a flat screen that could double as a cinema screen.
Further on is a kitchen that overlooks a lake or body of water, and then to my left is a series of doors that probably lead to an office or some sort of private parlor.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I know, right? Mom and Dad took over the place when Gramps and Gran passed away, and Mom is like obsessed with construction and decorating, so she practically redesigned the whole place. I was about ten when she was finally happy with the house and started focusing on other projects.”
“Yeah, well, she did a great job.”
Jules smiles and keeps pulling me along, ignoring my struggles until we’re in the kitchen. There she shoves me into a chair at the large table and goes over to the oven where she pulls out two plates.
The minute I smell bacon my stomach growls, and I blush while she laughs and grabs us each a cup of coffee. Mine I doctor with a lot of sugar and milk, making her shudder.
“Gross.”
“Shut up. You should be grateful I’m still a little slow, or I’d have attacked someone for coffee a long time ago,” I mutter around a mouth full of eggs, bacon, and half a slice of toast.
I eat, silently, and like a pig, until there’s not a scrap left on my plate and my appetite is sated only when I lean back and take my first, creamy sweet sip of coffee.
“I thought working at a coffee shop would make you hate the stuff.”
“Are you kidding? It fueled my obsession,” I say, sighing like a true coffee lover when the first sip hits my blood stream.
“I guess having to work so much and taking classes kinda makes coffee necessary, huh?”
I still, looking up at her and narrow my eyes.
“How do you know I take classes?”
“Your mom.”
Eyes narrowing because I don’t like anyone playing the fool with my mom or making fun, I let her see exactly how unhappy I am with her idea of a joke.
“No really, Meek. I swear, it was your mom who told me.”
“Yeah sure. Look Jules, I know I’m not exactly top of the pile here, but do me a favor and just drop the act if you don’t like me. There’s no need to be a dick about my mom being catatonic—”
“But I’m not!” she rushes out quickly, shaking her head. “That came out all wrong Meek, and I’m sorry. Look, it’s just that I’m a shifter.”
“No shit.”
“And that means that sometimes, some of us are born with…special gifts. Not always. Sometimes we’re just shifters, but if there’s a family thing, then it can pop up in a generation or two, and my mom’s mom had the ability to communicate telepathically.”
This time I laugh, shaking my head while I roll my eyes at her.
“Look, I’ll accept the whole shifter thing since I almost died, got brought back, and saw a werewolf shift with my own eyes—but telepathy? Give me a break.”
Jules grunts and seems annoyed for a second before laughing and picking up her own coffee cup.
“You don’t believe me. Okay. I’ll prove it. Who else would know that you ate bird seed for a year when you were four years old because you believed it would change you into a bird?” she asks smugly.
My jaw drops open as shock hits me because honestly, the only person alive who knows that is my mom. Don’t judge me, I know what you’re thinking, but I was four. And I really did want to be a bird and learn to fly. Blame cartoons for my wild imagination and let’s just leave that alone.
“Holy shit.”
“Yep.”
“But. But my mom is totally gone,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat to stop a sob from forming.
Jules looks at me with a sorrow I know is reflected in my own eyes and nods, as if she knows and feels my pain with me.
“Not entirely, Meek, but she’s slipping away every day. No, don’t cry, Meek and don’t blame yourself. This is just…”
I shudder out a breath, appreciating the hand that takes mine, offering an anchor when I need one so badly. In the last few years I have swung between sorrow, anger, hope, and then resentment—and right back again—in a cycle that is hard to understand or break.
Hearing that Mom is still in there but letting go—day by day—makes me both sad and angry. She should love me enough to stay. She should love me enough not to have died the day Dad did, and dammit, a part of me hates her for not being stronger or loving me enough.
“She loves you, you know.”
I clench my teeth, ripping my hand away and glare at Jules.
“Are you reading my mind? Don’t do that I don’t—”
“I would never do that to you, Mika, even if I could, which I can’t.”
“But—”
“I said I had a certain telepathy, but I don’t read people’s thoughts. Sometimes, if someone is close enough to…death, I can communicate with them,” she says softly, squeezing my hand when her words sink in and a gasp leaves me.
“I need to—”
“You can’t, and honestly, Mika, your mom doesn’t want you to. She wants to be alone.”
“Why?! Because it makes it easier on her?” I yell, yanking my hand back as anger engulfs me. “I am not ready for that.”
“No one is, Mika, and yeah, it is because it makes it easier for her, but you have to know that even with you there, she won’t come back. I know that’s what you’re hoping, but trust me, nothing is going to make it different. Your mom…she reminds me of a mated female. In our race once a mate dies, the other doesn’t last very long, and from what little I got from your mom, she feels the same way. Your dad was her world, and with him gone—”
“She had nothing,” I say flatly, looking away.
Yeah, I get that because the last few weeks saw me feeling the same way, even if I didn’t know why. This bond, whatever it is, is enough that I was constantly searching and soul sick and now that I know why, I just…
Dammit, Mom.
“She had you.”
“Yeah, well apparently that wasn’t enough. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Jules.”
I can’t.
Everything around me is crumbled or crumbling, and with what I have going on right now, I can’t afford to have one more thing weighing on me. I accepted a long time ago that my hopes were useless, even if I couldn’t let them go completely, and I now know that living that way won’t serve me at all.
I h
ave to think about now, me, living. To do that, I need to stay focused on not breaking under the stress of it all.
“Sure, hun. Now, you’re fed and watered.” She laughs, as I drain my coffee and look longingly at the coffee pot. “Let’s get out of here and go get you some clothes and show these bitches that you’re just fine.”
That’s going to be a problem because I don’t think I am, and boy oh boy, I am so not ready to pretend that I am.
Chapter Eight
Meek
I shouldn’t be here, I think, as I follow Jules from her car and into a little boutique-like store that she explained is the place where she and Prissy shop.
Everywhere I look I see designer this and designer that, clothing that is so not me in any way. I like things that are affordable. A-ffordable. Not stuff that looks like it needs to be dry cleaned and is made for top models.
Now granted, the whole blood thing has totally turned me into a super hottie, I won’t lie and try to be humble, but I am also not completely different.
I still have huge boobs and a round ass, and I’m not exactly tall and svelte like Jules and Prissy. The only changes I seem to really see are that I am scar-free and cellulite-light.
No way, no how am I going to pull off this designer stuff, and besides, no one is paying for this stuff. Anything I need I will buy myself, even if I don’t know exactly how that will work yet.
Unless there’s a coffee shop or diner in this wolf town, then I am set. One thing I figured out on the short drive here is that I need a job and a plan if I am staying here indefinitely.
That’s the first order of business, and yes, I understand that focusing on the mundane right now is strange, but it’s keeping me afloat.
So yeah. Job. Place to live. Clothes.
I have some savings, some money I’ve been socking away for a while in the event that Mom passed away and I needed to pay for the funeral. As it turns out my dad was an ace husband and father, and about six months ago I found some policies in the storage boxes in my closet that cover everything.
So I kept the money as a nest egg, figuring that it could be emergency money. I guess this qualifies as an emergency.
Greyriver Shifters Page 8
