by Selena Scott
Thea being Thea, she didn’t ask herself any cosmic questions. She didn’t ask herself whether or not she believed. She didn’t even ask herself if she was going to stay in the morning or not. All she did was ask herself what came next. And that was bed.
She hadn’t picked a room for herself yet, though she was pretty sure there was one more bedroom available on the first floor. Sure enough, there was one door still ajar and after washing up in the bathroom and grabbing her backpack, Thea walked right in.
The room had two twin beds, side by side, wood-paneled walls, blue carpet, and Jack laid out, long and lanky, over one of the beds. He was naked save for a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. He had one palm under his head and his legs were crossed at the ankle. His hat was off for the first time that Thea had seen and that blond curly hair, in need of a cut, tumbled everywhere.
Looking at his body all tan and exposed, Thea had a flashback to that moment in the bathroom when they’d gotten him naked and tossed him in the tub. She’d known that she wasn’t going to be able to forget that moment. That image of him. Thea liked naked men. She was a red-blooded woman and she’d never had the hang-ups about sex that some people had. To her, it was like playing a good game of basketball or running a race. Sometimes, you wanted to do it and you did it and that was that. She always left a sexual encounter satisfied and had never once required a repeat performance from anyone in particular.
There was something about Jack’s body, though. Those wide shoulders and wiry biceps. The hint of ribs at the sides and the v of muscle above the waistband of his underwear. The gold hair on his chest and over his legs and in his armpits. She couldn’t explain why, but it just looked… different to her than any other times she’d seen a man naked. It looked, almost, like he had some missing ingredient that other men didn’t have. But she couldn’t have said what it was, couldn’t have pointed out which part of him it was if her life depended on it.
He’d been gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling when she’d come in, but his eyes shot down to hers the second he heard her at the door. He watched her eyes take in his nearly-naked body and some emotion cross her face. It was desire, sure, but there was something else, too. Confusion maybe.
“Sorry. Thought this room was vacant.” She took a step backwards.
He propped himself up on his elbows casually, though it nearly killed him to do it. Every muscle in his body screamed with fatigue and a strange acid churning. He wanted to go on a run or a swim, but he also was so tired he could cry. Sleep now, he knew. “This is the last room on the first floor.”
“I’ll go up to the second.”
He sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to hide his pain, but he couldn’t quite mask the wince.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he reached for his bag, attempting to heft it onto his back.
He never slept anywhere without his bag in reach, but carrying it up a flight of stairs right now was going to be a real son of a bitch. “I’m going up to the second floor with you,” he told her. She looked completely confused. “So that you’re not alone up there.”
“I won’t be alone,” she said. “There’s six other people in this house.”
“You’d be alone on the second floor.”
“Yeah, Jack, newsflash, I sleep alone in my house, without another soul for six miles, every night. I think I’ll—”
In a rare show of impatience, maybe because he felt like he could explode into dust at any moment and his bag was cutting into his shoulder, or maybe because she just kind of brought it out of him, Jack cut her off. “We got attacked by a demon tonight, apparently half of us got turned into bear shifters, we met a lady who can whip herself into a bird, we’re in an old spooky mansion, and I’m not letting you sleep upstairs alone.”
“Alright, alright,” Thea pursed her lips, stepping forward into the room and hoisting Jack’s bag off his shoulder. Without a conscious thought, she rubbed her hand over the reddened divot in his shoulder that the strap of his bag left behind.
He couldn’t help but close his eyes and press into the touch, like a sleepy puppy. He was so tired he was swaying on his feet, but even so, he couldn’t deny that her touch had something inside him waking up, sniffing at the air, licking its chops. He could smell her, a deceptively light, feminine scent that was zero parts synthetic. He turned to her, but she was already guiding him back down to the bed.
She clucked her tongue when she realized that he hadn’t put the clean linens on the bed, rather was just sleeping on top of a quilt he’d tossed on there.
She sat him on the other bed and he watched, almost dazedly, as she made quick work of the sheets and pillowcase. He literally couldn’t remember the last time someone had made a bed for him. And he definitely couldn’t remember the last time someone had tucked him in. Which was pretty much what she was doing now. There was no tenderness in her movements, as she put him in bed and pulled the covers over him. But there was a thoroughness and efficiency that spoke of care.
They both knew that he didn’t avert his eyes as she quickly pulled off her over-shirt, shoes, socks and pants. She wasn’t shy. And besides. She’d seen every single inch of him while he was unconscious earlier, so perhaps, in her mind, it was a sort of fair turn of play for him to see some of her. She kept her back to him as she pulled off her T-shirt and sports bra, standing in only the high-cut black underwear that she bought by the dozen from the Target three towns over from hers.
A different woman might have needed a shower before she pulled on that clean T-shirt and fell into bed. But Thea was no stranger to long days, sweat, fatigue that pulled you under with both hands. And she wasn’t exactly what one would call fussy. She’d shower in the morning and that would be that.
When she pulled the covers over her, she turned and saw that Jack still watched her.
“Sleep now, cowboy,” she told him, rolled over, closed her eyes and promptly fell asleep.
Despite his extreme exhaustion, Jack stayed awake for a few more minutes, the last conscious person in the house. He was tired enough that if he let his eyes closed, he’d be deep into sleep immediately, but it was an old habit and he couldn’t break it. Jack dragged himself up from the bed and made his way down the hall. He checked both the front door and back door to make sure they were locked. The windows as well, even though it was a little stuffy and he wished he could have opened a few. The kitchen was sparkling clean and set back to rights, and he knew exactly who’d done it. He listened for a moment outside each bedroom door, for what? He wasn’t sure. Sounds of distress maybe.
He knew, maybe from the strange thrumming in his chest, which rooms Jean Luc and Tre slept in. And he knew they were sleeping. He also knew that they felt the same zinging acid in their muscles that he did.
He was linked to them, he supposed. And the thought was distant, though not altogether strange, through the lens of his fatigue.
A check of the house done, he stumbled back into the room he shared with Thea and shut the door behind him. Another long, hard-won habit. She slept in a long, shadowed line, as tall as she was curvy. Jack dragged himself into the other bed, closed his eyes, and was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
Thea was the second person awake. And that surprised her. Celia, in thick glasses she hadn’t worn yesterday, fluffy slippers, purple leggings and a teal robe, was standing at the stove, stirring oatmeal and pressing buttons on the coffee maker.
“Oh. Morning,” she said over her shoulder and then mumbled something that sounded a lot like ‘this fudging thing trying to make me its bish’.
Thea could only assume that Celia was talking about the coffee maker. She strode over and took the helm, trying to read the faded buttons.
“Thanks for making dinner last night,” Celia said, running one hand over that spray of silver hair at the top of her head. “It hadn’t even occurred to me and then there you were, the whole thing all set up.”
“Sure,” Thea replied, a little perplexed
at the strange vibe coming off of Celia.
“It’s my house, so I probably should have been the one in charge of feeding everyone, getting everyone settled in for the night. But…” she trailed off, giving the oatmeal one more stir and setting the lid on the pot.
“But it was a hell of a night,” Thea finished for her, crossing her arms and watching Celia carefully. They listened to the tiny, familiar noises of the coffee brewing.
“Yeah.” Celia fixed her glasses. “I’m—I’m still trying to figure out what to believe.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“Look,” Celia said, looking like she was about to burst if she didn’t say what she was about to say. “This is my parents’ place. And I have about a dozen brothers and sisters who all have a claim on it. I can’t just be having strange people here willy-nilly. Especially people all tied up in… this. Would it be terrible if I kicked everyone out?”
“No,” Thea said at the exact same second that Martine, standing in the doorway, said, “Yes.”
Thea and Martine looked at one another for a moment, Thea’s clear blues into Martine’s clear greens and something passed between them. It wasn’t dislike, exactly, but there was definitely not a ton of good will zinging around the kitchen.
Celia, in her fluffy slippers and no makeup and just over five-foot-tall stature, felt very out of place next to these two amazons. They both seemed like warriors to her, in their two different ways. Celia eyed their clothes, button-up flannel and jeans on one of them and stretchy black workout clothes on the other. The two of them looked ready for anything. Celia eyed her old cotton robe and really wished she’d gotten dressed before deciding to make breakfast for everyone.
“You explain yours and then I’ll explain mine,” Martine said, nodding her head to Thea. Martine had great respect for human women.
“It’s your family’s home and you get to decide what happens here,” Thea said simply. And it really was that simple for her. “If you want us gone, you’re well within your rights to make us leave.”
Martine studied Thea and though she knew this woman was probably going to be a pain in the ass, felt her respect for her rise. “That’s true. Thea is definitely right. But these three men, who put themselves forward in front of you three women, are going through something very painful. And life-altering. And it will change them, irrevocably. In two weeks’ time, at the new moon, it will end. They will have fully become their new selves. And only then, can they separate.”
“You’re saying they need a safe place to stay until their transformation is done?”
Martine nodded.
“And I suppose,” Celia continued, “they’re going to want a private place, so that whatever happens to them, some dope in the next hotel room doesn’t overhear or witness it.”
Martine nodded again.
“Oh, alright,” Celia sighed. “They can stay here.”
Thea studied Celia, then Martine, and nodded her head. She took a cup of coffee for herself and went back into the bedroom where she’d slept. Jack still slept. Something told her that was unusual. Despite his lazy manner, he struck her as an early riser. Though, she noticed, he didn’t look nearly as ill as he had the night before. It was no wonder that he needed the rest so badly. Who even knew what was happening in his body?
When breakfast was ready, all three of the men sort of stumbled into the dining room. Caroline, having woken just a bit before them, had set the table and there was oatmeal at every place. Coffee sat in a big thermos and there was canned fruit set out in bowls all around.
“It’s not much,” Celia said, pulling out a chair for herself. “We’ll have to go to the market in Falcon Forge. Just two towns over. We’re gonna need fresh food. The pantry won’t hold us much longer.”
The three men were already sitting, chugging coffee and falling on their food. All three of them felt a ravenous sort of screaming hunger deep within them. They didn’t quite realize it yet, but they also felt the hunger of the other two. Which intensified their own.
“Oh!” Caroline said, sipping the tea she’d made herself and peering around at everyone, tentative and excited at the same time. “We’re staying, then? We’re staying together here?”
Thea said nothing, though the packed bag at her feet spoke volumes.
Jack, through a mouthful of oatmeal, spoke up. “I don’t think the three of us have a choice.” He pointed to the men.
“What?” Tre asked, sort of startled, wiping his mouth. “What do you mean?”
Jack looked at Martine for confirmation. “Just a guess, but I’m thinking that the three of us might be stuck with each other.”
She nodded at him, an uninterpretable expression on her face.
“Why?” Tre asked, looking between Jean Luc and Jack.
Jack, holding Tre’s eyes, reached to his own forearm and pinched it as hard as he could.
“Ah!”
“Shit!”
Both Jean Luc and Tre hissed in pain and rubbed at the corresponding part of their forearms.
“We’re linked somehow?” Jean Luc asked Martine.
She nodded. “You’re part of the same pack, I guess you could say. You’ll learn to control the connection more, as you get used to being shifters. But for now, you’ll have to stay close to one another. You’re vulnerable, while you get used to the change. It’s your bodies’ way of protecting themselves, staying close to your pack.”
“Jesus.” Jean Luc rose up from the table and paced to the far wall, massive and agitated.
“She said the transformation will be done on the new moon. In two weeks, give or take a few days.” Celia blushed the second she’d said the words. She’d changed into clothes, a T-shirt, high-waisted jeans and man-sized cardigan, and she’d put her contacts in. So she didn’t feel quite as unprepared as she had earlier. But still, she was talking to Jean Luc LaTour and she couldn’t stop the blush on her cheeks. Her eyes fell immediately back to her oatmeal.
“So we’re here for that long?” Tre asked. “I can’t. I’ve got jobs to pull. Money on the line.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” Martine said. “The others, though…”
She trailed off and looked at the women.
Thea resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“I’m going to be staying as long as you three are,” Celia said, clearing her throat and trying to ignore the humongous ex-NFL player who was still standing against the wall, vibrating with agitation. “I’ve got the vacation stored up and I can’t just leave you here.”
Martine nodded and her eyes shifted to Caroline.
“Oh!” Caroline jumped a little at all the sudden attention, accidentally spilling her tea over her fingers. “Right. Well, I’ll have to call my h— back home.” She’d almost said ‘husband’, but something, she wasn’t sure what, had stopped her. “But I’m pretty sure I can stay. There’s nothing too pressing.”
All eyes went to Thea then. “Sorry to disappoint, but I only made arrangements for a few days here. I’ll be heading out after breakfast. I’ve got a farm to run, animals to take care of.”
She could feel Martine and Jack’s eyes on her as she took another bite of her oatmeal, but she didn’t acknowledge either of them. Everyone else but the two of them seemed perfectly inclined to let Thea go on with her life. There was nothing tying her to the group, not really, and it was ridiculous to give up two weeks of one’s life just like that.
The rest of breakfast was quiet, subdued almost. Each person had a whole lot of things to think through on their own.
When the dishes were cleared, Thea, with her pack on her back, shook each person’s hand. She ignored the look in Martine’s eyes. And the way Jack held her hand for just a minute longer than everyone else had.
“Caroline, I’ll take that horse back to town for you, if you need.”
“Yes! Oh my gosh, that would be such a help. The owner has a stable right to the north of the general store. She said just to knock on the
front door when I got back.”
Thea nodded, took one last look at all of them, and was gone.
***
“I’ve met you before, haven’t I?” Jean Luc asked through a grunt that he mostly managed to swallow down. It was late morning now and the group was moving around the house, really opening it up and brushing the dust off everything, now that they knew they were going to be staying there for a while. The zinging burn in his muscles had been replaced by a more centralized pressure in his gut that he knew both Tre and Jack were feeling as well.
People seemed to be under the impression that an aching pain was easier to deal with than a sharp pain. People were idiots. Pain was pain. When it was loud and bossy like this here pain in his gut, he didn’t especially care how it was classified. It was just something else he was going to have to heal from. The thought of it exhausted him. He focused instead on the surprised expression of the pretty woman to the left of him who was helping him wiggle open a jammed window.
“Oh! Yes!” Caroline said, a big smile on her face. She wore neat, navy trousers and a white sweater that fit her curves perfectly. Her chestnut hair tumbled shiny down her back. “I wanted to say something before, but I didn’t think you’d remember. You must have met so many people, being who you are.”
Of course, thought both Tre and Celia at the exact same time. They eavesdropped on the conversation from where they worked on the windows on the other side of the room. It made perfect, bitter sense that the famous football player and the obvious New Englander who reeked of money would have met before. Probably at some elbow-rubbing soiree that made the rich richer, with a side of lobster and champagne.
“Remind me of the circumstances where we met?” Jean Luc said, swallowing another grunt of pain.
“We both volunteered at that children’s camp outside of Philly three summers ago.”
“Right, the one for kids with hemophilia.”
Both Celia and Tre instantly felt chagrin for their uncharitable thoughts from before. “That was a fun day,” Jean Luc continued. His brother Hugo had been there, too. Still alive and making all the kids smile. If Jean Luc remembered correctly, Hugo had made this pretty Caroline smile, too. Not her husband, though. “You were there with your husband.”
