‘We eat chicken all the time,’ Slaughter said. He laughed, but the worry in his voice was audible. He’d tried to cover it with humour and had failed.
‘You eat multiple chickens. At once,’ Eliot piped in, also trying to sound amused. She failed too.
‘Look, we’re all scared, let’s just say that.’ Cameron felt annoyed and agitated. That often meant a storm was coming. Which often meant a problem.
‘OK.’ Eliot sighed. ‘I admit it.’
‘Me too,’ Slaughter said. ‘I’m not at all keen on creepy things that would fit right into a sci-fi novel wandering around my town, eating chickens and terrorising people.’
‘From the size of what she described, we’re lucky it didn’t eat Molly,’ Eliot said.
Slaughter grunted and then said to Cam, ‘You up for one more stop?’
‘Sure,’ Cameron said. What he really wanted, deep down, was a hot shower and to try and figure a way to entice a certain lavender-eyed wolf to curl up in his bed with him. He refused to question the attraction – physical and mental – but chose to embrace it. Sometimes you just had to say “fuck it”.
‘Good, just up the road a bit is Scoot’s place,’ the sheriff said.
‘Is he a bird too?’
Eliot laughed and shook her head. ‘Nope. But I can see why you might think that.’
‘Owl, ostrich, I just figured, who knows …? Snowy egret?’
‘Nah, don’t even think it for a minute. Scoot is not a bird.’ The sheriff reached out to pat Eliot on the arm but caught himself. Cameron watched her cheeks flush red and noticed her look of disappointment when the bear looked away.
‘Bear like you?’
‘Nope.’
‘Seer like you?’ he asked Eliot.
‘No.’ She grinned.
Cameron held up his fingers. The game was calming him down. He didn’t feel so anxious about what felt to be an encroaching storm. ‘Let’s see, I’ve met a jackal, a wolf, a bear, a lion, two seers, an owl, an ostrich, and now a …?’
‘You –’
He cut the sheriff off. ‘Do not say you’ll see! That’s fun at the weather worker’s expense.’
‘Weather man,’ Eliot corrected him good-naturedly, bringing back what Molly had called him.
‘Whatever,’ he sighed. ‘Tell me.’
‘He’s a deer. See, no big deal.’
‘Ah, I can live with that. And he’s a … taxi driver?’ he asked, as they pulled up next to a blaring yellow cab parked out in front of the tiny house.
‘Yes, sir, he is. The town’s one and only.’
‘How many people need a taxi here? I imagine most days you can walk anywhere you need to go. ‘
‘Usually people hire him to go into town or to go out to other areas. Places too far to walk.’
‘I see. Makes sense. So … He had an experience too.’ Cameron cocked his head when he heard the roar-hiss-rush of the falls. The falls …
‘He did. And it almost made him turn tail and run,’ Slaughter said, winking. ‘Sorry. I couldn’t resist.’
Cam snorted. ‘Does he think that’s funny?’
‘I would never say it to him,’ Slaughter said, his boots crunching up the gravel drive as they made their way to the door. ‘You ever seen a pissed-off buck?’
‘Buck? You said deer.’ Cam studied the tiny house. It appeared to be redwood and had black shutters and a pointed roof. It was very much a house from an illustrated book of children’s stories. He was briefly envious of the life the residents of Divination Falls had created for themselves.
‘What do you think a male deer is? It’s a buck. What do you say he is in form?’ Slaughter asked Eliot.
She shrugged. ‘Twelve point?’
‘There you go,’ Slaughter said. He smiled at Cameron. ‘Big-ass deer. Not Bambi.’
‘So him wanting to run meant …’
‘Whatever he saw was worth running from,’ the sheriff said and knocked on the red front door.
Scoot Davenport did not disappoint. He was a very tall man with broad shoulders, light brown hair, and eyes so dark they were almost black. He carried himself in a way that said he was always aware of his surroundings. It made Cameron feel a bit tense, but a lot safe. Considering the circumstances.
‘It was the damnedest thing. I mean, I live in a community where it’s not unusual to get a pick-up call and turn around to see an alligator in the backseat after a man’s what got in my cab but –’
‘Alligator!’ Cam said before he could stop himself.
Eliot waved a hand at him. ‘Later,’ she said, and winked.
‘But when you go out to take the trash out and see that – thing – looking at you … Twice! Well –’ He took a seat on an old wooden bench. The sheriff leant against the post and waited him out. ‘It makes you think you’ve gone off your rocker,’ Scoot finished.
‘This man is from out of town,’ Slaughter said. ‘Eliot here thinks he might be able to help us. Can you tell him what it was you saw, Scoot?’
The man nodded once and picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. He glanced up at Cameron and smiled, though under it all he looked worried. ‘I’m going to sound full-on nutters,’ he said.
Cameron shrugged. ‘Try me.’
Scoot ran his fingernail up his jean leg and back down. Clearly just talking about what he’d seen disturbed him. ‘It was bigger than me. Bigger than the roof of the house. At first I thought someone was playing a practical joke and it was one of those inflatable things. You know –’ he turned his eyes to Eliot ‘– Marie Clark has one for every holiday. A turkey, a Santa Claus, a pink bunny for Easter. I thought someone had come and inflated themselves a monster right on the border of my property.’
‘That’s where it was?’ Cameron said, glancing at the woods.
‘Yes, sir, it was right there as big as life and it had two heads.’
Cam waited. He wanted to let Scoot get it out because he could see the man talking himself out of what he was saying even as he said it.
‘Two heads, wings, tentacles. It looked like someone took a few animals and sort of mixed them all together.’
‘Did you have any contact with it?’ Slaughter asked, leading Scoot along.
‘You mean besides screaming blue murder and almost crapping my pants?’
Slaughter chuckled. ‘Yeah, besides that.’
‘No. I stood there staring at it for a moment. I mean, I was sort of paralysed.’
Like a deer in headlights. Cameron shook his head to shut the stupid thought off.
‘And then, as I watched, it sort of flapped its wings for a few feet and poof! Gone!’
‘I just have one question,’ Cameron said.
All eyes turned to him. ‘Shoot,’ Scoot said.
‘How close are you to the falls?’
Chapter Twelve
They left Scooter scrubbing his patio. Fall was coming and Cameron noticed that Divination Falls had that busy preparation feeling you didn’t get very often in big cities. If he stood still he could hear the buzz of chainsaws, probably prepping wood for winter. He could also see farm trucks rumbling down the road. A man could get used to this place – a magical place tucked away in the woods …
‘How come no one ever comes here?’ he asked. It was the first time it had occurred to him to do so.
‘A spell takes care of that,’ Eliot said.
‘A protection spell?’
‘Basically. More of a diversion spell. If anyone who’s not, let’s say, magically inclined, notices the road to us, their attention sort of drifts off. The interest in where that road goes doesn’t stick.’
‘Hunh. So I got through because …’
‘Because you were pushed through by Spirit.’
‘Spirit,’ he echoed.
‘Those are your beliefs, correct?’ she asked. ‘Great Spirit, everything connected, everything with a soul and a purpose and a link to everything else.’
‘When you tango with lightning on a regu
lar basis, I dare you to think any other way,’ he teased.
‘I hear you.’ Eliot smiled at him.
Slaughter’s face was unreadable but certainly didn’t look happy, that was for sure. He watched the road with dark, intent eyes and Cameron studied his hulking figure, his chiselled chin. He was a good-looking man, a nice man, and he genuinely seemed to care about his town. He could see why people would want Slaughter in charge. He could also quite clearly see one seer named Eliot making cow eyes at the good sheriff as he wrestled with his thoughts. These two needed to hook up quick.
‘Do you really think it has something to do with the falls?’ Slaughter asked, turning up the road to the rectory.
‘Just making an observation,’ Cameron said. ‘How close is the antique store to the falls?’
‘Right near The Den,’ Eliot said. ‘Where that crazy non-shifting lion girl brought her band of loonies and –’
Slaughter grinned and patted her leg. Eliot blew out a puff of air and he said to her, ‘Breathe.’
‘So it was close to the falls and the original breach.’
‘Every place we’ve shown you has been close to the falls,’ Slaughter said. ‘Then again, everything here is close to the falls.’ He shrugged.
‘All those houses back up to the woods that surround the falls,’ Eliot said. ‘So … what does that mean?’
‘I have no idea. Yet. But you guys think about it too. See if you come up with anything.’
They were sitting in front of the rectory and Cam’s skin started to tingle. Not from lightning or approaching energy, but from excitement. Where was Trace? Would he be happy to see him? Would they do anything?
He tried to open his door and couldn’t. Slaughter laughed and got out of the cruiser. He opened the door for Cameron and let him out. ‘Sorry. Occupational standard. Can’t have the prisoners running off at one of the town’s two stop lights, now can we?’
They stood there for a moment, alone. Eliot was in the car digging one of her cinnamon sticks out of her jeans pocket. ‘I know you like her,’ Cameron said boldly to the bear.
The sheriff sighed and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair. ‘What is it about you newbies telling me my business?’
‘What?’
‘First the lion shows up and says something, and now you. The lightning rider.’
‘Well, maybe that’s the Universe telling you to shit or get off the pot.’
‘What a lovely sentiment when discussing romance.’ Slaughter smirked.
Cameron couldn’t hold back his laughter. ‘OK, poor choice of words, but accurate analogy. You make moony eyes at her; she makes moony eyes at you. Get on the same page and make moony eyes at each other at the same time!’
‘Go inside,’ the sheriff said, shaking his head.
‘You should listen to me.’ Cameron grinned.
‘Yeah, yeah. Moony eyes, shitting, pots, and a big nose in my business.’
‘Kiss her!’ Cam said, then hurried toward the rectory. Maybe he’d take his own advice. Maybe he’d find a certain lavender-eyed wolf and kiss him.
But Trace was nowhere to be found and the day was weighing heavy on Cameron. He dragged himself through the cool corridor and stumbled into his room. The shower sounded like the perfect place to be.
Someone had retrieved his bag because it sat by his bed. The same someone, he saw – glancing out the window – had retrieved his car from down the road. It was parked in the roundabout on the side of the rectory.
Maybe it should have upset him; instead, it made him feel cared for, secure. He’d take that feeling at any cost, he was starting to understand.
In the shower, he washed his hair, foam licking at his belly and legs as it drifted down his body to puddle at his feet. It smelled like melons, he thought. Which made him hungry. But a yawn proved that he was more tired than hungry, even. It was a fast shower but hot, and he found his favourite clothes in his bag.
The bed beckoned. He dropped onto it without even turning the TV on, and rolled onto his belly. The rectory was silent and outside he could hear the noise of the town. Birds in the trees behind the rectory. The chainsaw from earlier. Someone using a leaf blower. A distant rumble that must have been a work truck or something big.
‘What are you forgetting?’ Cameron asked himself. Something was nagging at him and he couldn’t get a handle on it. It had only been 24 hours since he’d tumbled into town. But it felt like much longer. Like he’d been here for ever and a day. But in a good way.
‘Think,’ he whispered, but his eyes were drifting shut and, instead of picking at the problem, his mind was playing back the taste of Trace on his tongue. The salty, haunting flavour of his skin and his come. The way it had felt to have that man thrusting his cock deep into his mouth, over his tongue. The noise he’d made and the way he’d looked when his peak had hit him – hard. And then, of course, the feel of him moving close up against Cameron’s trembling body and the way his big, working man hands had felt jerking him off.
Cam shivered, but it was on a slow exhalation, and he let himself drift off at the tail end of that shiver. Just a few minutes of sleep would sharpen his mind and help him recall what it was he couldn’t seem to pry out of his head. Something possibly important. Something he needed to remember.
* * *
Someone was in the room. He could feel it. Cameron’s eyes took a moment to adjust as the dark purple air crowded in around his vision. It was clearly past dusk. Soon it would be full dark. The total silence of the rectory basement allowed him to hear the very controlled breathing.
He shifted, trying hard to see who was with him. He was scared – but not. His heart thundering, but not in an entirely bad way. And yet, he was hesitant to sit up.
‘Rise and shine, electric boy,’ the voice said.
‘Trace.’ The word slipped out of Cam’s mouth like a sigh. He did sit up then, now he knew he was safe.
‘Who else would be watching you like a predator as you sleep?’ He chuckled. ‘Well, in this town we have a lot of predators, but they’re good-natured and kind for the most part.’
‘What time is it?’
‘Past seven. It’s starting to get dark earlier now. Fall’s coming.’
Cameron felt him get up and move. The energy in the room shifted and the personal energy given off by Trace rubbed up against him, licked his face, curled close so that his heartbeat stabilised.
‘I slept through … everything.’
‘I came looking for you. Figured you might want my personal tour of the things that have been going bump in the night. But then I found you here sleeping. And …’
‘And?’
‘And I pulled up a chair to watch.’
Cam stood and made his way unsteadily to the small bathroom. He’d not just slept, he’d crashed. His sleep had been all-consuming and nearly violent with its intensity. He brushed his teeth quickly and ran his hands through his hair. What a mess.
‘Why would you watch me sl –?’ He turned toward the other man and almost bumped into him. Trace wasn’t just big and handsome, he was quiet as hell.
‘Because you’re pretty and I like to watch pretty boys sleep,’ Trace growled. They were face to face with barely an inch separating them.
‘I see.’
‘Do you?’ Trace’s fingers slid along the middle of Cameron’s belly, making the muscles ripple. ‘Can you explain to me why you’re the first person besides Father Finn I’ve told my story to?’
Cameron swallowed hard – wishing, praying, hoping the wolf would kiss him. ‘Because you’re lonely,’ he answered honestly.
Trace rested his forehead to Cam’s and gazed at him with those amazing eyes. ‘I am lonely. But that’s nothing new.’
Cameron shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I … You …’ He blew out a sigh. ‘I’m doing a piss-poor job of speaking coherently to you.’
‘I think it has to do with this.’ Trace pushed his hand back and forth between their chests. The thumping noise mad
e Cam feel like he was dreaming. It was a drumbeat beating between them – a hypnotising sound.
‘What’s this?’
‘Some sort of …’ Trace cocked his head and grinned. The only light in the room was in the bathroom and it made Cam feel as if they were standing under a spotlight in a darkened theatre. ‘Something.’
Cameron grinned, feeling something tight and anxious in his chest let go and settle down. ‘That sure clears it up.’
‘I know, right?’ Trace said, stepping forward until Cam’s back hit the door jam and he had nowhere left to go. ‘I watched you sleep and kept waiting to get bored. I mean, what’s so special about you, Lightning Boy?’
Cameron swallowed hard again, gave another shrug. ‘I have no idea.’
‘Me either, but it seems to be a lot. At least to the part of me that isn’t too busy being an asshole.’
Cameron laughed so hard it came out like a bark. The sound was cut off when Trace pushed his hands into his hair, gripped it tight, and kissed him until all the air in the room melted away. He pushed his body firmly to Trace’s body and the heat was staggering. It was like being pressed against a hot oven and Cameron felt a flush come over him.
‘Will you – this time? It’s been so long.’
‘I’m afraid,’ Trace said, laughing.
Cam imagined it was the hardest thing for the wolf to say. ‘Of what?’ He pushed his lips to the other man’s before he could answer. Parted his lips when Trace instinctively pushed against his lips to demand entrance. When Trace’s tongue slid over his, Cam sucked it hard – the way he would the wolf’s cock – and he heard the rumble of a pleased growl in the bigger man’s chest.
‘For starters, I’m afraid I’ll kill you.’
‘Have you killed anyone since then?’ Cam asked, holding his breath at the bold question that might break the whole damn mood.
‘No. I’ve wanted to, but no.’
‘I know that feeling. There are a ton of assholes in the world.’
‘Are you flirting with me?’ Trace asked with a rusty chuckle. He ground his cock to Cameron’s and his eyes flashed darker, lit with what looked like flecks of silver.
Cam shook his head, blushing. ‘I didn’t mean it like that. Look, I’m afraid of killing my lovers. Well – once I was. Now I just don’t have any, thanks to the fear.’
Beast in Me (The Divination Falls Trilogy) Page 7
