by L. C. Davis
“Says the pent-up virgin with two boyfriends.”
“I’m working on that,” I muttered. “The boyfriend part, not the… I’m sorry, do you have to be here while I’m trying to work? Don’t you have shutters to paint or something?”
“The whorehouse has been done for weeks. All I’m waiting on is the whore.”
“Right. Well, you’re gonna have to keep waiting, because I’m not going anywhere,” I said, moving a few empty boxes off the table to make room for another plant. My workstation was a mess, but I’d never planned on having this many orders to fill.
“You know,” he said in a singsong that never boded well for me. “You’d have plenty of room for all that nonsense if you just came with me. I even built you a craft room.”
“You did not.”
“Come with me and find out.”
“Nope, I know how this works. You’ve got some binding spell on the house,” I said, waving my hand in the air. “I take one step in that haunted mansion and I’ll never be able to leave.”
“Please, I didn’t go to all this trouble to set you up in Stillwater just so I could lock you up.” His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head, studying my reaction. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid of being trapped again.”
“Can you blame me? I spent my formative years in a basement,” I muttered, brushing past him to reach for some supplies on top of the bookshelf. Why I put anything up there when I could never find the stepstool when I needed it was a mystery. Locke was behind me all of a sudden and I immediately regretted getting the cheap towels when I felt his near-naked body pressed against my back through the thin terry cloth. He pulled the box I was reaching for down and handed it to me. I expected to find him smirking at me again, but he wasn’t. His expression was blank and sullen. It was rare he had a serious moment, and rarer still that anything other than malevolence peeked through his veneer of camp and charm.
“I’m not your father, Holden.”
“Two sides of the same coin.”
He frowned. “I know you can’t see this now, but me finding you before Michael or your father could is the best thing that could have happened to you. The training, the house, it’s all for you, not against you.”
“You manipulated me. You’re using me so you can get a better parking space in Hell and Daniel and Brent are dead because of both of us,” I said, feeling my blood pressure rise just hearing the words spoken out loud. “How is any of that in my best interest?”
“Because the others just want to control you. To contain you. I want to help you reach your full potential. I want you to blossom.” His words were earnest and sincere, both traits I barely recognized on him. “You’ve tried fighting me and it didn’t go well for you. What do you have to lose by trying to work with me instead?”
“According to you, I still have my soul.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not in mint condition as it is, I’ll tell you that.”
“All the more reason not to work with you.”
“The church conditioning runs deep, doesn’t it? You mistrust me because I’m a demon, but I’ve never lied to you. Your father is the one who did that. An angel is the one who erased your memory of the night all those people died and then encrypted it. Eventually, you’re going to have to come to terms with the fact that it doesn’t matter how good you try to be. You’ll never make it onto Heaven’s nice list. You’ve been batting for the other team since long before you were even born.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“What is it with you and repression? Life’s a lot more fun if you live it and stop resisting everything at all times.”
“Your idea of fun and mine aren’t the same,” I said, shoving a few heavily-wrapped bottles of ointment into a shipping box. I scrawled the customer’s address on front and used so much pressure I nearly punctured the box with the pen. “Even if they were, I’m not interested in living it up like the damned while Daniel doesn’t get to live his life at all.”
“Oh, he finds ways.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just wondering how much you know about his midnight rendezvous with Dennis.”
I rolled my eyes. “It’s none of my business. I told Daniel I wasn’t going to stand in the way of him working things out with Dennis, and we’ve never been exclusive.” Maybe that was why he canceled our date. If he was getting back together with Daniel, maybe he was the one planning on breaking up with me. It was what I wanted, so why did I feel so weird about it? “Besides, it’s not like I can have sex with him. Not when you’ve got ‘plans’ for my virginity.”
“Who says he’s not part of the plan?”
“No,” I said firmly. “I told you, leave Dennis out of this. It’s bad enough that you got Daniel to agree to be part of your weirdo ritual.”
“Aren’t you the least bit curious about what he is?”
I pursed my lips into a line. Showing any sign of interest around Locke was always a bad idea. Cats loved to pull on strings, and I wasn’t in the mood to unravel again. “Nope.”
“Come on,” he purred, blocking my path into the kitchen. If that towel slipped one more inch…
My phone rang and this time, I grabbed it. “Nick? Thank God.”
“I thought we were trying to avoid drawing His attention,” he said dryly.
“Funny.”
“I was just calling to ask if you wanted to --”
“Yes.”
“Er, don’t you want to know what it is first?”
“Nope,” I said, grabbing my keys and stacking the packages I had ready to send out. The others could wait. I didn’t have the patience or the resolve to stay in that apartment for another moment with Locke and his clean torso. “Whatever it is, I’m in and I mean literally whatever. I’m already coming your way to mail out some orders.”
“Cat allergies acting up again?” he teased.
“I’m about to have Daniel put him down.”
Locke scowled. “You know you can’t avoid me forever,” he called after me as I left the apartment, balancing a tower of packages while holding the phone against my shoulder.
“He’s still bugging you about moving?” asked Nick.
“Yep,” I said, waving to Mrs. Marrin on my way out the front door. She was sweeping out the entryway, so at least I didn’t have to struggle to get it open.
“You know I hate to play devil’s advocate, but --”
“Don’t,” I pleaded. Nick had made no secret of his approval for that particular aspect of Locke’s grand plan. The bad blood between the Whitakers and the Marrins was legendary and Nick was understandably less-than-thrilled about having the mate he’d imprinted on staying in a house that had been enchanted so that members of his pack couldn’t even get past the driveway.
“Why are you so adamant about staying there? No offense, but from what Daniel told me, the place is kind of a dump.”
“It is not! It’s small but it has character.”
“If by character you mean a draft and moths, then sure, it has lots of character.”
“Not everyone can be a Whitaker and live in a mansion.”
“Hey, I moved out as soon as I turned seventeen, but at least my shitty apartment has central AC. I’m not saying you have to move into the whorehouse, but there are other options…”
“Can we please stop calling it that before it becomes a thing?”
“It’s kind of already a thing.”
“I’m not moving in with you, Nick. We’ve talked about this.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never given me a good reason.”
“Uh, how about because we haven’t even been dating for a year? Because you’re still figuring out your sexuality, I can’t have sex without hastening the end of the world, and you still haven’t told your family you imprinted on me? Any of those work for you?”
“Nope.”
I came to a stop in front of the Post Office and I could see him leaning on the coun
ter through the window. There was something comforting about knowing exactly where I could find Nick on the days it wasn’t his turn to make rounds. To be fair, that was probably why he wanted me to move in with him, but it felt like such a big step to take. An official step when nothing about our relationship was stable or normal. Nothing except the way I felt about him, but I couldn’t even be sure that the way he felt about me was anything more than a product of werewolf hormones and magic.
“Moving in together would just complicate things, Nick,” I said quietly. “But you do look very cute in that uniform.”
He looked up sharply, a lopsided grin on his lips. “Now who’s the stalker?”
“These days, I’m not too sure. Now be a decent boyfriend and open the door before the streets of Stillwater get a coat of anti-aging cream.”
He jumped over the counter because he was just a cocky showoff like that and pulled the door open, stealing a kiss as he took the packages from me. “Remind me to thank my aunt for sending you all this business the next time I see her. Otherwise, I might not know I had a boyfriend.”
It was only over the last month that he’d started using the term without being awkward about it, so that was something. I was trying not to pressure him to Define The Relationship, especially since it wasn’t one either of us had a whole lot of choice in, but it gave me hope that maybe I wasn’t destined to be a secret for the next twenty years. Going to Whitaker family dinners came with a whole other slew of things to worry about, but I couldn’t see the way I felt about Nick changing anytime soon. The thought that he might suddenly decide to pull away from me scared me more than I wanted to let him know. Coming out as trans had been hard enough for him, and it had all but destroyed his relationship with his mom. I didn’t want to be the reason he felt pressured to come out as bi, especially if he wasn’t sure.
Nick set the packages aside and pulled me in for another kiss, deeper than the last. I melted in his arms because I had fully succumbed to Mate Brain and whenever I was near him, touching him, all I could do was give in. To his kiss, to his scent, to anything else he asked. I knew it was only a matter of time before I gave in on moving, but I was holding out for as long as I could, even if there were days I wasn’t sure why.
“Now that’s a greeting,” I said, breathless. He broke the kiss only to push me against the wall, nipping at the spot on my neck that always sent me from zero to sixty. I wanted so much more than the gentle scraping of his teeth. I wanted his mark, the indelible proof that what was between us was real and wasn’t going anywhere. That I was his the way I’d finally come to accept I wanted to be. It was a self-destructive craving that could only serve to complicate our lives even more, but my instincts regarding Nick were so rarely logical.
“I haven’t seen you in three days,” he reminded me. At one point, I would have thought he was joking. Three days was nothing to most people, but to a werewolf and the person he’d imprinted on, it might as well have been a month. He’d been disappearing on full moons lately and Locke had been keeping me too busy to pester him about it too much. I hadn’t seen him on a full moon since the one that had ended in his brother’s death, and I knew better than to ask questions that would lead him down that path. The death was still fresh and raw and nothing about the Whitakers was ever easy to navigate.
I dug my hands into his hair. It wasn’t slicked back as much as usual, but he still looked like a greaser with his open button-down and the sheer white tank underneath that strained enticingly over his muscular chest. With his teeth at my neck and his hands groping my ass, it would be so easy to slip into the back room and go way too far. More often than not, it was his list of reservations more than mine that held us back, but the way he was touching me, like he was starving for the taste of my skin, made me wonder.
The bell over the door rang and we both froze. Nick pulled away from me so fast he was all but a blur and we found ourselves staring at Carla, who was staring back at us like she’d just walked in on Nick eating a customer. Her shock faded to knowing and there was a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Well. Looks like my matchmaking skills haven’t rusted, after all.”
“Aunt Carla, it’s not --”
“No need to explain, I’m no prude,” she said, holding up her perfectly manicured hand. I just came because I’m delivering invitations for my annual gala, but it looks like I can save one stamp,” she said, grinning as she slipped me a white square envelope sealed with blood red wax.
My hand was shaking as I took the letter and I knew my face was every bit as red as the wax. “Thanks, but Carla, this isn’t what it looks like,” I began, knowing the window for dismissing what had just happened as a weird one-time fluke was closing fast.
“Yes, it is,” Nick said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Holden and I are dating.”
“If it’s a secret…”
“It’s not,” he said with a small smile. He knew as well as I did that Carla and keeping secrets didn’t belong in the same sentence. When he took my hand, my breath caught in my throat. He was seriously doing this. “I was planning on telling the family soon anyway, but I guess this is as good of a way for it to come out as any.”
“You know I’m always in your corner, sweetie,” Carla said warmly.
“I know. Thanks, Aunt Carla.”
“I hope you’ll both be there. Wear tuxes,” she said, passing the rest of the envelopes to Nick. She waved to us and strutted off with her designer bag hanging off her arm.
I should have known better. I’d been losing traction as a hot topic in Stillwater. I should have known the rumor mill would come back around to me with a vengeance. “Nick, you don’t have to do this. It’s not too late, we could ask your aunt to keep it a secret.”
“She can’t,” he scoffed. “She means well, but the woman’s a one-way information pump. It’s for the best anyway.”
I hesitated. “Did you mean what you said about planning to tell them soon?”
“Planning and doing are different things, but yeah,” he muttered. “I should probably tell my uncle before my aunt gets to him. He’ll take it better coming from me.”
I squeezed his hand and stepped closer since there was nothing to risk anymore. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No, but that’s sweet,” he said, kissing me again. This time it was soft and affectionate. “I need to take care of this on my own. And no offense, but he’s even more suspicious of you now that he knows you really are working with Locke.”
“You never told me what kind of agreement they came to last year…”
“Nope,” he said, giving me another peck. “You can leave the packages on the counter, I’ll take care of them later.”
I followed him out of the office as he locked up, but I couldn’t help but worry. “What was it you wanted me to come here for anyway?”
“Oh, that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “It was nothing. We’ll do it some other time. Will you be okay with Locke?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Go, talk to your uncle.”
He seemed to hesitate but took off towards the Town Hall instead. I sighed and wandered back toward the farmhouse. When I returned to my apartment to find it empty, I wasn’t sure whether I should be relieved or worried.
Three
DANIEL
“Fuck off, Locke.”
“Why is everyone so hostile today?” the demon asked from the perch he had only occupied on my exam table for the last few seconds. I hated when he just popped up out of nowhere, and I still wasn’t close to getting used to it.
I did my best not to lose count of the supplies I was halfway through counting for inventory when he showed up. Easier said than done now that I was going on two weeks without eating. Human food had long since lost its taste, and I learned the hard way that shoving it down in an attempt to stave off the hunger pangs would just result in choking it back up. “Ever think it has something to do with the fact that you showing up is almost always a bad
thing?”
“That’s not what you were saying the other night when I came to your rescue.”
“Ninety-seven,” I muttered, separating another stack of syringes from the ones I hadn’t counted yet.
“You owe me,” he sang, slipping his arms around my waist. I hated how his touch affected me. It had taken kissing Dennis and a vat of beer to stir any human sensation in me, but one brush of the incubus’ skin was enough. I just wasn’t desperate enough to warm myself in the glow of hellfire. Yet.
“Ever heard of a good deed?”
“Sure. They never go unpunished.” He grabbed me by the shoulder and spun me around, sidling up to me as his hands smoothed down the lapels of my wrinkled white lab coat. “You know you owe me. If I hadn’t showed up, you’d still be explaining to the police why Dennis Mills croaked with your blood in his mouth.”
“Speaking of that,” I said, pushing past him. I’d lost count anyway, so I went to the sink to wash my hands and decided to call it a night. “What the fuck happened to him? He bailed as soon as you did.”
“I’m not surprised. His kind has always been flighty.”
“What is he, anyway? And why did my blood make him sick?”
“You’re dead,” he said, as if that explained it. “It’s like eating spoiled meat.”
I grimaced. Like I needed one more thing to be self-conscious about. “So he’s a vampire?”
“Nope.”
“Are you seriously going to make me guess?”
“You can guess all you want, I’m not telling you.”
“What do you want?”
“Lucky for you, not much. I just need you to talk to Holden and convince him to see how childish he’s being about this whole whorehouse thing.”
So that was it. As far as favors went, it wasn’t the worst he could have asked of me. I didn’t fully understand Holden’s reluctance to move into the house Locke had built for him and his would-be lovers. The Victorian in the woods was a bit creepy, but it was beautiful and more than large enough to give him more space from Locke than he had in the tiny studio I’d lived in after my parents died.
