Hearing Sheila stopped my breath and my heart. I stepped away from Babel and out of his grasp.
“Fuck,” he whispered. “Sunny, it’s not what you think.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” I said, my voice cold even to my own ears. My shoulder ached and I rubbed it. I wanted a hot shower. More to put distance and a door between us than for any other reason. Total bastard! “I want to go back to the apartment.”
Babel came up behind me. “You can stay here tonight.” There wasn’t the same lasciviousness in his voice as before. It was an offer now, nothing more.
“I want to be alone.” Really, I didn’t want to be alone. Not after the attack.
“Sunny.” Babel’s voice was soft and low, gentling. “You should stay, at least until tomorrow.” He touched my hair. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
The offer was tempting, not because I wanted him, but because I really was scared. A lot of stuff had gone down over the past several days, and while I liked to think I was bad-ass, it just wasn’t true. I hated myself for feeling like a damsel in distress. I wanted to say screw it, and make him take me home. I wished hard for my vehicle. If it hadn’t been busted up so badly from the wreck, I’d drive to the nearest roadside park, lock the doors, and sleep away my worries.
Regrettably, I had no such options. So, for safety reasons only, I decided to stay. It had nothing to do with his bulging muscles, tight ass, or endearing dimples. I was a fool for having gotten myself involved with him in the first place—best friend’s brother and way younger than me—I reminded myself.
But the thoughts didn’t stop me from needing to be with someone tonight, as in proximity, not sex. “Okay then.”
Chapter Nine
I WALKED INTO the kitchen with the worst tunnel vision of my life. Not even six Black Martinis at The Bitter End had produced such a fuzzy peripheral. I noticed immediately the kitchen wasn’t Babel’s kitchen or my own.
Where the hell am I?
I opened my mouth to ask, but instead the words “Where do you keep your spatulas?” came out and they were said with a distinctly male voice.
Huh? I looked down at my large hands and hairy knuckles.
This can’t be good.
There wasn’t a response to the question, so I began rummaging through the kitchen drawers. Really weird, since all I wanted to do was get the heck out of whomever’s body I was in. In one of the drawers, under a pile of cooking utensils, I saw a red ledger. I could feel the quiet curiosity of my host’s mind.
Flipping open the book, I saw dates, initials, and monetary sums. Big, really big sums. 07/15 JT $15,000, 07/25 RC $17,500, 07/19 GH $20,000, and so on, the numbers and letters continued. Whatever the money was for, the price kept going up.
“Hey, sugar,” my host said. “What’s this book about?”
I was glad he asked. I was curious myself. I put the ledger back in the drawer where I found it and pulled a spatula from the next drawer I looked in. “I hope you like your eggs over easy.”
Before I could turn around to see who “sugar” was, I woke up with a foggy brain.
I was on Babel’s couch, my head pounding still from the dream. At least I was pretty sure it was a dream. I remembered the word “sugar” but the rest had already started to fade.
The couch had been fairly comfortable, so I wasn’t completely pissed at myself for convincing Babel to sleep in his own bed. Not that there weren’t several times during the night where I’d woken up and thought seriously about making the journey to the bedroom, but good sense kept me in place. And other than a minor crick in the neck and some quiet regret, I’d survived the night on Temptation Island.
I can’t say I was completely delighted at Babel’s self-restraint. Not that I wanted to have sex with a player. I’d promised myself after the last guy that I wouldn’t fall for the same bullshit again. So why did I want to give up my scruples for Babel? It couldn’t just be about his looks. I’ve never been that shallow about guys. I’d almost allowed myself, during dinner the night before, to imagine a relationship with him. I could be so dumb sometimes.
Since my clothing options were limited, Babel loaned me a black T-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts that were ridiculously big on me, but at least had a drawstring. The shirt smelled wonderfully of candied orange peels. I’d never smelled a fabric softener or detergent quite like it. Bunching the shirt in my fists, I took another whiff. Babel was full of pleasant surprises. No, I admonished myself. I will not think fondly of him. I will not think of him at all.
Getting up at six in the morning was not one of those pleasant surprises. An ungodly hour and Babel was already in the kitchen rustling around when I wandered in. Holy hard body, Batman! He only had on boxer briefs, and wow, in the light of day, and for the third time, I had to marvel at all the dips, and curves, and cuts of his muscles. Even with his hairy chest, every part of him was the very definition of definition. “Don’t you have clothes?”
“My place,” he grumbled.
“Chavvah’s place,” I countered.
“My sister,” he said.
“My…” I had nothing. He’d been staying here before I arrived, and until we found Chav, he had more of a claim than I did. “Thanks for putting me up last night.”
“I asked you.”
“Yeah, I know. But still.”
“You look great.” His eyes drew to slits in that dreamy yummy way.
“I like your fabric softener.” Lame. Super lame.
“Yeah, it’s good.” He chuckled and shook his head.
Great, well, we agreed on laundry products. A match made in heaven. Aside from the whole “he’s leaving to go back to his real life, Chavvah would hurt me, and the whole other woman” thing. Oh, and the fact that he was a lot younger than me. By a lot, I meant…“How old are you again?”
He faltered for a moment at the unexpected question. “Old enough.”
I nearly choked on the sip of coffee I’d just taken. “Huh.” I tried to sound nonchalant.
“How old are you?”
Didn’t he know it was rude to ask a woman her age? Next, he’d want to know how much I weighed. “Old enough.” Thank heavens I’d resisted saying, “Too old.”
He raised a questioning brow, and I wanted to punch him in the face. Needless to say, he was smart enough not to give voice to his doubts.
“Want some grits?”
I scrunched my nose. I’d heard of grits, but I’d never actually had them. “I don’t know.”
“You either want them, or you don’t.” He pulled a pan from the oven and a cylindrical container from the cupboard.
“What do they taste like?”
“I can’t believe you’ve never had grits. You’re in for a treat. They’re warm and soft and buttery.”
The way he described them, they sounded like a much-needed hug.
“And.” He smiled, dipping his head toward me. “No animals will be harmed during the process.”
I nudged him. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
He poured white granules into the pan and added water, turning on his gas stove. “You a total vegan, or can I add cream? It’s the secret ingredient.”
“Not so much a secret now that you’ve told me. And, no. I’m not a total vegan. I can do byproducts, just not meat.” I didn’t go on to explain about the crazy bloody butcher visions that turned me off meat in the first place.
“Got it. No meat.”
The thumb handles just below his hip bones were deeply carved grooves leading to much more exotic and southerly locations. They were calling my attention. I licked my lips, contemplating what it would be like to lick the crevice down to his man-bits.
“Speaking of meat.”
His grin went crooked. “Oh yeah?”
“You’re a horn-dog.” Who really needed to put some damn clothes on.
“You’re half right.”
“The dog part.”
“Nope.” Babel moved in fast, catching me comple
tely off guard. I froze as he kissed me hard. He turned the heat off on the stove and turned it up in the kitchen. I’m not sure when it happened in all the groping and clinging, but it wasn’t long before my T-shirt was on the floor and the basketball shorts were down around my ankles.
Going to his knees, Babel kissed my breasts, my stomach, my…I didn’t want him to stop. “Stop,” I whispered, my fingers enmeshed in his thick hair.
He peered up at me—desire, passion, and a dark carnality filled his eyes. His voice thick, with a slight growl, he said, “I want you so bad, Sunny.”
Oh, man, I wanted him as much as he wanted me, if not more. “I can’t.”
He sighed heavily, wearily. His fingers squeezed my hips before he stood up and turned back to the stove. He certainly knew how to take “no” for an answer, much to my chagrin. I watched, stunned at my own stupidity, as the small flame under the pot flickered back to life.
More regret. I put the T-shirt back on, but stepped out of the shorts hanging around my ankles and kicked them aside.
“So, you can change whenever you want?”
“Change?”
“You know.” I wiggled my fingers. “It’s not just on the full moon.”
Shaman Billy Bob could change at will; he’d proven that to me. He’d also made the distinction between lycans and therians. I wanted to know if there were differences.
“I can change, as you say, when I want.” He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I’ve never really talked about this part of my life with a human before. Hell, I don’t even think I’ve talked about it with a therian.”
“I don’t want to pry.” Yes, I did. I wanted to pry hard. I’d somehow gotten myself entangled in a world completely different from my own, and I wanted to know exactly what kind of people, er, animals, or beings I was dealing with.
“It’s okay. Really. Just feels a little weird is all. We’re brought up with one restriction. Keep the secret. Above and beyond anything else.”
“I wish Chav had told me.” I felt my eyes welling. I missed her so damned bad it physically hurt. This was exactly the kind of time I needed her the most. I wanted to call her. Hear her voice. Have her tell me to I wasn’t losing my mind. I also wanted to give her the bitching of a lifetime. BFFs did NOT keep these kinds of secrets from each other!
“She wanted to, Sunny. We talked about it, and I’d tried hard to convince her to cut ties with you.”
His words hurt. “I can’t believe you—”
He quickly added, “Before I knew you. Before I knew you had secrets of your own. Chavvie didn’t want to keep this from you. But when you grow up like we do, it’s not easy. And keeping our secrets is more than just about us. There are therian communities across America that would be affected if our existence got out.”
I guess I could see his point. It actually made me feel better about Chav not telling me. It still hurt a little, but I understood now that it wasn’t just her secret she’d have been revealing. Looking back on it, I remember several times where I knew she’d wanted to tell me something. Something important.
God, it had to be a monster of a burden to grow up with a covert life.
I knew from babysitting experience when I was younger that kids aren’t the greatest secret keepers. How did the shifters manage to keep their young from spilling the beans? “You went to regular school? How did you never tell anyone? If I was a kid with that kind of ability, I’d want to tell everyone.”
“I was home-schooled until I was a teenager.” He shrugged his massive shoulders and stirred the grits. “When I was old enough to understand the differences between myself and the humans, my parents let me attend high school.”
“I was home-schooled.”
“Yeah?” He smiled for a second. Fleeting, but nice.
“My parents were New-Agers. They were all about the learning experience being a natural process, not some restricted, dictated indoctrination. Their words.” Sometimes, I wondered how I would have fared among other teenagers. Would I have been popular or picked on? Babel didn’t look like the kind of guy who is easily bullied. “I bet you had a wild time in high school.” He definitely looked like a coach’s wet dream. Probably all the girls had wanted him and all the boys had wanted to be him.
He scooped the grits into two bowls, added a dash more salt, a pat of butter, and finished with a generous amount of heavy whipping cream. “It was different.”
“Different, huh?” Steam wafted from the bowl he handed me. “Mmm, smells good enough to eat.” And after the first bite, I decided grits might replace donuts as my favorite fruit. Warm, buttery, creamy, and artery hardening. Everything I loved in a food.
“Yeah, I didn’t really fit in. Sort of an awkward teen.” He grinned, shoveling a spoonful of the grits into his mouth. “I didn’t come into my own until college. Now that was a wild time.”
And not all that long ago, I reminded myself. “What does it feel like?”
“Normal. For me anyhow. How do your visions feel to you?”
“I see your point.” I wondered if he’d get weirded out if I asked him to shift for me?
Before I could figure out how to ask, Babel set his empty bowl in the sink. “I’m going to jump in the shower, then I’ll take you back into town.”
“Hoo-kay.” Our eyes met as he turned to me, his face shining with humor as he rubbed a hand down his stomach. Visions of slippery suds sliding down his chiseled, muscular chest, lathering against the lovely soft hair covering his pecs and leading to a happy trail that made me very happy played in my mind. I didn’t think I could resist joining him if I stayed in the house. “I’ll get dressed and wait for you outside.” He bristled, but didn’t try to stop me.
The morning air was brisk and chilling against my skin. I’d put my jeans and shirt back on from the previous day. I hadn’t been rolling around in the mud with them, so they weren’t dirty, but I’d wished I had a fresh change. I leaned against the porch rail and closed my eyes. It was so peaceful. I couldn’t understand how anyone would want to leave. There were so many reasons why hooking up with Babel was a bad idea, but in my heart, I knew his relationship with Sheila wasn’t our only stumbling block. He wanted to leave. We’d find Chav. He’d go. I’d die a little. It would take more than pastries and ice cream to recover from losing him. It was easier not to have him in the first place.
Doomed from the start—it was the tag line for any relationship that might happen between us. We were just too…Wrong.
The woods were set off just a little way from the house, and a patch of wildflowers caught my eye. Judah appeared next to the plant, as if he’d been sitting there the entire time. He dug at the ground around it, making me curious. I wandered over to get a closer look, the dew from the grass wetting my shoes. The leaves were the color of cabbage with purplish tints, longs stems, and the flower came to a point at the top with what looked like an unopened blue and muted red bud.
I touched it.
It was dark. The moon was high, and even through the thick shrub of treetops, I could tell it was full.
Howling in the distance and men shouting. I jumped behind a nearby tree. I knew I was in a vision, but it didn’t stop my heart from trying to beat out of my chest.
Four men with rifles and gear traipsed lightly over the crisp brush near me. It was too dark under the trees to see their faces.
“We’ve got a live one, boys,” I heard one of the men say.
“Finally one of these things is giving us a run for our money. Clever bugger,” another added.
“Where do you get these creatures, John?”
“Trade secret.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
“Hush now, boys,” the man in front said. “We’ve got more tracking to do.” Who were they hunting?
I knew they couldn’t see me, but I crouched down behind the tree as they passed by. Everything felt so real and surreal all at the same time. My hand tangled in a plant. I looked down—the same kind of wildflower.
> In the next instant, I was in a different place in the woods. An animal jumped over a nearby log and cocked its ear. It was a coyote, and I recognized his red fur and sharp eyes. “Judah?”
He pawed at the earth with sharp toenails. He didn’t look over. He didn’t hear me.
A gunshot echoed through the woods. I heard them laughing. They were closing in, whoever they were. Judah’s head cocked sideways, and he sniffed the air.
“Hey, boy,” I heard a man’s voice sing out. Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
“Run,” I told him. “Run.”
Another blast resounded. Judah’s body dropped to the ground next to me, the side of his head bloody from the clean kill shot.
“Judah!” I screamed, choking on a sob as the bile rose in the back of my throat.
I heard my name repeatedly. I glanced toward the voice. It was Babel. He leaned over me, shaking my shoulders. The sun was out. It was daytime again. It was the present again.
I threw up.
“Babel.” I could feel the wet tears streaming my cheeks as he held me.
“I heard you shout Jude’s name. What did you see, Sunny?”
“They killed him,” I said, the sob catching in my throat making my words harsh and raw. “Oh, God, they killed him.”
It had been a full moon the night Judah died. He’d been trapped in animal form, with animal thoughts and instincts. The killers had been human. They had to be, otherwise, they’d have been in were-form as well, and I didn’t know many four-legged creatures who could accurately shoot a rifle.
I couldn’t get Judah’s lifeless body out of my head. I was so angry over what had happened, and for the first time in my life I wanted to physically hurt someone, to render them limb by limb. Those hunters hadn’t been trailing Judah on accident. Judah had been murdered, and from the way they talked, he hadn’t been the first.
Chapter Ten
“WHY DO I have to talk to Sheriff Taylor? He doesn’t even like me,” I whined. I felt like a kid being sent to the principal’s office.
My Paranormal Valentine: A Paranormal Romance Box Set Page 68
