Die By Night

by Kaitlynn Aisling

  “I’m difficult?” His wry tone and furrowed brows imply that I am the difficult one. I tell myself I don’t care what he thinks of me.

  Max doesn’t answer the phone, even though I let it ring and ring. When voicemail picks up, I hang up and try again. Gavin sits on the bed and watches, his head tilted again. It’s almost as if he can hear Max’s voicemail message from here, even though that’s impossible.

  This is Max. Leave a message if you want a call back.

  After hearing his prerecorded voice three times, I have to accept that he’s not going to answer. He doesn’t recognize Gavin’s phone number. I wouldn’t answer a phone call from an unknown either. I leave a voicemail.

  “Hey, Max. This is Nat. I know you guys must be worried sick, and I’m really, really sorry. I have a lot going on right now, and I just needed to get away for a little while. I promise I’ll explain everything when I get back. Just—don’t worry about me; tell Papa, Alex, and Nic the same . . . I love you.”

  I set the phone down, but pick it back up again.

  “One more call,” I say to Gavin, half pleading.

  He nods slowly.

  “One.”

  I dial Meagan’s number by rote, one of the few numbers I know by heart. I don’t think I’d even know Alex’s or Nic’s number without looking through my phone contacts.

  “Hello?”

  I could cry all over again just hearing her voice. She answered on the second ring. That’s Meagan, dependable and reliable, even when she doesn’t know it.

  “Helllllooo?” she asks again when I don’t speak.

  “Meagan. Thank God.”

  “Natalie? Natalie, is that you? You are in so much trouble! What were you thinking?”

  “I don’t know.” I really don’t.

  Maybe that’s the problem, I haven’t been thinking straight since this whole thing started. However, there is one thing that I have been thinking about, even though I don’t want to because it fills me with guilt.

  “How’s my papa?” I ask.

  “Oh, Natalie. He’s fine. Of course, you’d know that if you were here! But yeah, he’s good, better even. It’s like the search for you has renewed his vigor.”

  Doing better? Does that mean he’s . . . feeding? Could the vampires and Gavin be right about him? About who I am? What if my papa’s illness is not an illness at all, but rather something he’s used to hide his true vampiric nature?

  By the dark glare of disgust on Gavin’s face—that’s exactly what it means.

  “But are you OK?” Meagan asks, drawing me out of the possible revelations.

  “Yeah, I’m OK.”

  “Good. I’m glad. But Natalie, WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!”

  Whether or not Gavin has super hearing, I know he heard that. I hold the phone away from my ear and let Meagan rant for a while.

  It’s bittersweet to hear her yell at me. My smile battles my tears as I watch Gavin’s reaction to my friend’s colorful scolding. Meagan doesn’t curse, it’s one of her rules, but she always manages to get her point across. She always says, “If one is to be a respectable professional, one must speak as a respectable professional.” To which I’d always reply, “You’re just afraid you’ll let something slip in the peds ward.” She’d always nod, like some sort of blond Yoda, then she’d say, “Exactly.”

  As soon as she stops for a breath, I cut in.

  “I’m with Gavin.”

  “You’re WHAT? Are you like in bed with him?”

  “No!”

  Oh, great. Now Gavin is all intrigued, leaning forward from his perch on the edge of the other bed. His shirt is still off, so the movement causes his pectoral muscles to shift and his abs to scrunch up in a gorgeous way.

  “Natalie?”

  I must have missed something. It’s hard to stay focused with so much stimuli. This is the first time I’ve noticed the tat on his neck. It’s two crescent moons, one seeming to be dangling from the other, on the right side, where neck meets shoulder . . . in the same place as his mark on me. It’s not like a normal tattoo, not fully inked, but almost shadowy.

  What the—

  “Natalie! Pay attention! You are in bed with him, aren’t you? You couldn’t even leave the room to call me? And you didn’t call me from your phone. Are you on his phone?” She gasps through the line, then in a scandalized whisper, “Are you wearing his clothes?”

  “Not anymore,” I reply, still focused on the suspicious mark on Gavin’s neck.

  The more I think about it, the more I think that the mark is new. Was it there that first night? I don’t think it was.

  The shriek that is telegraphed into my ear is deafening.

  “Oh, no you didn’t!” And Boston girl Meg is back.

  Oh, crap. I spoke without thinking. It’s true I’m no longer wearing Gavin’s clothes, but that’s because I swapped his tee shirt for the new bathing suit.

  “No! I’m clothed. I—I was wearing his jacket earlier, but I took it off.”

  “Just how much did you take off?”

  “Oh, come on, Meagan. It’s not like I can get pregnant again!”

  That didn’t come out right either. Gavin is now laughing his warm, inviting, and utterly sinful laugh. It causes his throat to ripple, drawing my attention back to that weird shadowy mark. His laugh also causes Liam to kick against my stomach, as if he recognizes his father’s voice.

  The sudden lurch inside me causes a bit of shock, and I place my hands against my stomach soothingly. Gavin notices even that, and he’s jumped up and put one hand on top of mine and the other beside mine on my stomach before I can draw a breath.

  “Don’t touch me!” I shout, slapping at his hands.

  Meagan has more to say about that, but I drop the phone to better fend off Gavin’s touch. Unfortunately, he’s having none of it. He drops to his knees and puts one arm around me to hold me in place. Then he lifts the tankini’s shield up over my stomach and places his ear against my skin.

  He’s too close, and I’m so confused. Because it feels just like he said. It feels right. Liam sends a flurry of kicks inside me. In excitement? No, that’s crazy. He’s an unborn baby; he doesn’t know what’s going on out here.

  “I can hear her heartbeat,” Gavin whispers.

  He looks up and his whiskey eyes are alight with wonder. I’m so caught up in his expression that I don’t even bother to correct him on the baby’s gender.

  Against all the odds, and every reason why I know I shouldn’t, I fall a little bit in love right there.

  Meagan doesn’t want me to hang up the phone, and Gavin doesn’t want to leave his perch against my stomach, but I manage to convince them both.

  “Thank you. For letting me call them, I mean.”

  Meagan confessed that she spilled the beans to Alex when I went missing. She was worried that Gavin had abducted me. I can’t fault her, because she’s not far from the truth.

  Alex told Papa, Nic, and Max. So the truth is out. My family now knows everything, from my one night stand to the pregnancy. I’m somewhat relieved. I know Papa has to be majorly disappointed in me, but at least I don’t have to plan out how and when I’ll tell him now. This also gives him time to get over it until I can make my way back. She also promised to tell them that I’m with Gavin trying to work things out. That way when I return home, I can provide the illusion that I tried to become a respectable woman and put my family back together.

  What I didn’t tell Meagan is that Gavin thinks he’s a werewolf, I’m on the run from vampires, and I’ll have to move away to a foreign country to escape them. If I think about it enough, I can excuse my omissions. She wouldn’t have believed me if I’d tried to convince her of the truth.

  She would have insisted on a location so she could get me. As it is, the alert out to find me will be canceled. The less attention the better. I wonder if there will be legal ramifications. No, the authorities can’t do anything to someone for running away without notice. It’s not kind, but it’s
not against the law.

  I set the phone down on the nightstand and slump against the bed.

  “No’ yet, lass. I promised you answers, yes? It’s too early yet for bed. You’ll sleep better if you wait another couple of hours.”

  He’s right. Again. It seems to be a habit of his.

  He grabs up the towels, and I follow him out of the room. His suit has pockets, into which he slips the room card key. I won’t be getting that anytime soon.

  As he leads the way down the hall, I turn back one last time. Bright green eyes peer back at me from around the corner at the other end of the hall. Piper? Above her head, I can see the edges of a shaggy mop of hair. It looks like she is sneaking out with Nolan for a little romantic time.

  I don’t say anything. Their relationship doesn’t appear to be accepted by the pack, but they’re too strict. The kids deserve a little time together; it’s not even 8:30 yet.

  The halls are mostly empty along the way, as is the indoor pool area, with one couple swimming when we enter. Once the swimmers catch sight of us, they climb out of the room and dry off. The room is dim, with glass roofs and walls. The surface of the pool glows blue-green from the lights beneath the water. This was a fantastic idea.

  “Is it heated?” I ask.

  I dip a toe in and am rewarded with warmth. I feel him behind me.

  “Oh, aye,” he says lowly.

  He steps around me, sliding me away from the edge. With a wink, he jumps into the water, sending a splash to drench the front of my suit. I shriek like a carefree girl.

  I’m tempted to jump, and Gavin’s beckoning me, waving his arms as if he’ll catch me. Instead I ease in through the steps. The water feels heavenly, and I float atop the surface, relaxing completely. I’m weightless.

  “You’re a bonnie one.”

  “The fact that you clarify ‘one’ implies you’ve had many.”

  Gavin doesn’t respond to my pointed statement. That fast, the ease is gone, replaced with wary vigilance. I need the truth; I deserve it.

  I sit up and swim to the steps so that I can sit and watch him. I let my legs float out in front of me.

  “I read your texts that morning. It sounds like you’ve been busy lately.”

  “I wondered why you ran. Hawke, eh?”

  Is that an admission?

  He stops treading water in the deep end and swims closer, to where the water is shallow enough for him to stand. It’s still far enough away that he doesn’t feel like a threat.

  “Yeah. And some kind of voicemail from Elder Duncan; he called you prince.”

  “I was the prince, but my status changed just a month prior to our meeting. I am now the undisputed Rìgh—king o’ the Lycanthrope.”

  Like he said earlier, royalty, but the emphasis on undisputed implies that it is far from the truth. It sounds like Elder Duncan doesn’t appreciate it. Who else disputed his claim? Pity is creeping in to replace righteous indignation. He’s just lost his father. How awful must that be? I can’t even picture losing my papa, especially after having lost my mama.

  “Well, oh mighty king, don’t expect me to mindlessly obey the edicts of a king who rules a race that does not exist.”

  His eyes narrow at my refusal to believe his truth.

  “Maybe I should prove my existence tae you, little mate?”

  With the word “mate” the bite he renewed is tingling, as it always does when he is near. Then every muscle tenses in his body, creating disturbances in the water, and I know he is preparing to change.

  “NO!”

  He smiles in triumph, and asks, “No?”

  Oh! He is the smuggest, most infuriating man I have ever met!

  “No, it wouldn’t prove anything. I’ve been having these same hallucinations for a while now.”

  “Really? Maybe a bite from one o’ these hallucinations would force you tae acknowledge the validity o’ their existence.”

  His lips stretch wide in a grin too feral to be of simple amusement.

  I cough and push back against the edge, uncertain. Challenging this often crazed male seems much more foolish now. Would he bite me again? The first felt like it was ritual initiated—a claiming. But now I feel a threatening edge to his words. Would he bite me with violence?

  What will his pack do to him if he does? Unbidden, my fingers creep to the mark between my shoulder and neck. The bite is near burning now. I assume it heats with his anger, as if we’re connected by his mark. His amber eyes follow the betraying move and light with pleasure. I gasp at his expression and the resulting changes in the bite mark. Now it seems to simmer and tingle, all at once, with pleasant warmth. He growls.

  “Stop it! I’ll run; don’t doubt I’ll do it!”

  Clambering back against the edge of the pool, I grasp the edge, ready to pull myself out.

  “Would you? I would think you’d want tae avoid the befanged variety o’ your hallucinations lurking out in the dark.”

  How could I have forgotten about that particular danger? He makes me forget everything around me, everything but him, including my good sense.

  “Besides, you want answers? I’ve got them.”

  My curiosity is too strong to ignore. I settle back into my earlier relaxed pose—a signal for him to continue.

  “The witches have said for years that blending breeds strength. My da alw—”

  “The former king?” I interrupt.

  “Aye, the rìgh; he said the witches wanted equal rights, and they’d say anything tae get them. They are no’ tae be trusted. Conniving tricksters, the lot o’ them.”

  Ouch. But his vehement statement confirms one more thing. He does believe that the mystical realm consists of more than wolves and vampires.

  Gavin is too lost in his own thoughts to recognize my discomfort. He continues with, “But I am getting ahead o’ myself. Once my da passed, I knew it was my duty tae find my mate and continue our line. It was expected o’ me, and,” he coughs, “highly encouraged.”

  “How’d he die?”

  He coughs again, uncomfortable. I think he might want to cry, but he doesn’t seem able. I can’t expect to understand all the complexities of this man and his past in one heart-to-heart, yet something inside me yearns to know him, to know every little thing about him. What’s his favorite color? Does he have siblings, and if so, where are they? Why is he so conflicted when he talks about his father? Why does he look at me as if I hurt his heart?

  “Gavin? Are you all right?”

  “They said cancer. But tis impossible. He was poisoned.” He looks down, swirling a finger through the water, causing little ripples. “I know he was,” he says, still not looking up.

  Which means that royalty in Gavin’s world is a target, and I’m one by association. I not only have to worry about the vamps, but also the wolves that have offered me asylum?

  “Gavin?” I prompt again.

  Frustration takes over his casual demeanor, and he lifts his eyes once more. He’s tormented, and for some reason, that torments me.

  “He was murdered. He was!” His finger stops its twirling motion, and his hand slaps the water, sending a mini cascade in my direction.

  “I believe you,” I say.

  I do, but I also would say anything to calm the tremors in his fingers. My agreement works. With a shake of his shoulders, he’s composed once again.

  “The vampires are everywhere and so easy with the modern world. We’re the only pack o’ Weres left, and we’re dying out. I could see that, even though some o’ them could no’. The elders, they did no’ want to leave. Scotland is our home. But I was so desperate that I went tae a witch tae get a locator spell for my mate. Tensions were high; it could no’ wait.”

  When he says the word “witch,” he shudders. In repulsion. Add witches to the list of enemies. You’re not giving me much to work with, are you Scot?

  “They need strength, and I did no’ have it tae give on my own. But with you, my other half, I’m already feeling more myself.”<
br />
  “So, I’m guessing this locator spell wasn’t very specific.” Maybe the witches were angry at being considered inferior?

  “No, I had tae search for you. Nothing guid is ever easy.”

  “So, umm did you sow a lot of wild oats trying to find me?”

  Parts of that text message are still burned in my mind, such as Hawke asking if Gavin had a pup already, implying pregnancy, which implies sex. I could be mistaken, but that might be a bit of a blush suffusing Gavin’s taut cheeks.

  “No, lass, I did no’. All true Weres recognize their mates immediately. However, if one is unsure, they can, uh, copulate tae see if a bairn is possible. Bairns are possible only with one’s mate.”

  “Nice,” I say, sarcasm coating every letter.

  With one irritated movement of his hand, he slicks his hair back.

  “I did no’ say that I attempted women tae find my mate. Tis an excuse offered by those who yearn for pleasure without the responsibility for their actions. I saw you, I recognized you as my own, and I was already too far intae the brew tae take my time like I should have. For that, I am sorry.”

  “Why is your accent more pronounced than the rest of your group?”

  “My da was a traditionalist. I grew up differently than most o’ the pack. The elders are worse than I am; I’ve adapted some just from being with Hawke. He’s taught me things—bought me that high tech gadget o’ a phone and such.”

  That explains the lack of a passcode on his phone. He doesn’t know how to set it up. Just how old fashioned do these people live?

  “Wait, before you said you tried to take me at the store—was that because you found out I was pregnant? I was worth something once I was carrying your progeny?”

  “No! I looked for you continuously after that night. I asked around, but could no’ find your last name. I eventually managed tae discover your apartment, but you were no’ there. Nothing was working. Until finally, I ran intae you by happenstance. Destiny it was. But when I approached you, and discovered your secret, I was so angry that you did no’ tell me about the bairn. I did no’ know your last name, but you knew mine. You could have found me! You should have tried. You should have told me! I had a right to know.”