by Karen Lynch
“I second that.” Shannon fell back to the blanket. “If I’d known how nice it was here, I would’ve brought my bikini.”
“Bikini? Did someone say bikini?” Peter threw himself down next to Shannon, sending a spray of sand across her.
“Watch it, buddy.” Her stern look was ruined by the smile playing around her mouth. She grabbed his shirt front and pulled him in for a kiss.
April turned her head toward me. “I told you. Just like rabbits.”
“I heard that,” Shannon murmured between kisses. I noticed she didn’t try to refute it.
A shadow fell over us. “Fire’s started. Who wants to help me catch some fish for dinner?”
I squinted up at Roland. “I thought we brought food with us.”
“We did, but you haven’t eaten until you’ve had trout cooked over a fire. There’s a nice stream about a quarter of a mile from here that we used to fish at. Want to come?”
I sat up. “Okay. You coming, April?”
“Too comfy. You guys go without me.”
Roland reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. We left the beach and entered the woods behind the tents where a narrow path wound through the trees.
“Game trail,” he said, moving to walk ahead of me. “Lots of deer around here.”
The trail took us straight to the wide stream. Roland led me a few hundred yards downstream to a deep pool teeming with trout. From the way the rocks were piled round the pool, I could tell it was manmade.
“A bunch of us did it when we were kids,” he said when I mentioned it. “Took half the summer, but it made a great swimming hole. Now it’s a fishing hole.”
I noticed then that he had no gear with him. “Where is your fishing pole?”
“Don’t need one.” He kicked off his sneakers and reached for the hem of his T-shirt.
I spun, presenting him with my back. “What are you doing?”
Amusement laced his voice. “Going to show you how a werewolf catches fish. I can leave my clothes on if you want, but then they’d be too wet to wear tonight.”
I swallowed dryly. “N-no, go ahead.”
Clothes rustled behind me and landed on the ground. My stomach did a series of flips as I imagined him standing naked a few feet away.
“You can look now.”
“No, thanks.”
His low laugh made my toes want to curl. “It’s safe. I’m wearing shorts.”
I peeked over my shoulder at him, and forgot to breathe when I took in the wide muscled shoulders and chest that tapered off to a narrow waist and chiseled abs. His black shorts hung low on his hips, kept in place only by a drawstring.
It took me a second to realize I was staring at him, and I jerked my head around before my gaze could travel lower. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for him to tease me for checking him out.
“You going to look off in the woods or watch me catch dinner?”
I turned back to him. “You did that on purpose.”
He smiled shamelessly. “Yep.”
“Do you even know how to fish?”
“I can’t believe you just said that.” He gave me a fake wounded look and stepped up to the edge of the pool. “Prepare to eat those words, woman.”
He bent his legs and went still, staring down into the pool. Several minutes passed, and he didn’t move. Neither did I as I waited to see what he was up to.
Without warning, he dove headfirst into the water, barely making a splash. Seconds later, he broke the surface, holding a large speckled trout. He swam to the bank and killed the trout quickly. Then he tossed it on the grass near my feet and climbed out, water sluicing off his tanned body.
“That’s a nice trick,” I said, impressed. “How did you learn to do that?”
His chest puffed out a little. “Lots of practice. Want to see it again?”
“Yes.”
He waited a few minutes, and then he dove in. Again he resurfaced with a wriggling trout, which he killed and put with the first one. He went in three more times until he had five big trout, one for each of us. He pulled out a pocket knife and cleaned them efficiently, leaving a small pile of entrails a dozen feet from the stream for the animals to feast on.
“There’s no way I’ll be able to eat a whole trout,” I said as he threaded them on a thin branch to carry them back to the campsite.
He washed his hands in the stream and dressed. “Don’t worry. It won’t go to waste.”
We returned to the beach to find the others already working on dinner. Peter either didn’t have faith in Roland’s fishing skills, or he was really hungry, because he had half a dozen large hamburger patties ready to go in the pan. Shannon was frying onions and mushrooms, while April checked on the foil wrapped potatoes sitting in the fire.
Roland went to work, placing each trout in a foil packet with butter and seasonings. He placed them in the coals with the potatoes. Then he went to the cooler and pulled out a beer.
“Anyone want one?”
Peter took one. I declined as did the girls. I often wondered if things would have gone differently the night I met Eli if my judgement hadn’t been impaired by alcohol. I couldn’t change the past, but I didn’t think I’d ever be able to touch the stuff again.
Roland checked on the trout a few minutes later, and the smell wafting from the foil made my mouth water. He pulled the packets from the fire and set them on a flat rock while Peter cooked the burgers.
“Who is going to eat all this food?” I asked them.
“I will,” called a voice from the woods behind us.
“Paul!” April ran and tackled him. He dropped the small duffle bag he was carrying and kissed her soundly. I would be shocked if these two didn’t imprint soon, based on how much they were into each other.
They broke apart, and April took his hand to lead him over to the fire. “I thought you couldn’t come tonight,” she said, her face glowing.
“I switched patrols with Shawn, so I figured I’d surprise you.”
She kissed his cheek. “Best surprise ever.”
Roland handed Paul a beer. Then he started dishing up the food. I waved off the burger, going for the trout and a baked potato. Soon, the six of us were sitting around the fire, enjoying our meal. The fish was delicious, and I ate with gusto, something I hadn’t done in forever. I didn’t know if it was the company or this place, but everything tasted better.
I made it through half my trout before I could eat no more. Roland reached for my plate as I laid it on the ground.
“I’ll take that.”
I watched him eat my leftover trout with something akin to awe. He’d already polished off a plate of food that could have fed me for days.
“Where do you put it all?”
“Our stomachs are bigger than yours, even in human form. We need it because our metabolism is twice as fast and we burn through calories quickly. And we train a lot, too.”
Peter grabbed a second burger. “Gotta stay in shape. Never know when you’ll need to fight.”
Roland nodded. “Most suckers are young, but sometimes you’ll run into an older one.”
“Oh.” My stomach knotted.
“Don’t worry. You’re safe with us.” Paul grinned and waved at Roland and Peter. “They don’t look like much, but these two have killed more vamps than anyone else in the pack.”
“That’s us, vampire killing machines.” Roland lifted his beer. “Because the only good sucker…”
“…is a dead sucker,” Peter finished for him. The others cheered.
I swallowed, suddenly nauseous. The werewolves were good people, and I understood their hatred of vampires. Looking at their faces, I knew in my gut they wouldn’t be able to get past what I used to be. I no longer feared they would hurt me. I feared losing their friendship.
Shannon looked at Roland. “Tell us about that really old vampire you guys killed in New Mexico. Peter is terrible at telling stories.”
“Hey!” Peter tickled her side, and sh
e blew him a kiss.
Roland shook his head, laughing. “That one totally handed my ass to me. Sara is the one who killed him.”
“What about that pack of crocotta you guys killed in town?” April asked. “They are still talking about that back home.”
“Now that was a crazy night.” Roland took a swig from his beer. “Sara, Pete, and I were driving home from a party at the lighthouse when my truck got a flat on Fell Road. Pete went to get his mother’s car, and the next thing I knew, Sara and I were surrounded by crocotta. I killed two and Pete got one. Nikolas and Chris killed the other three. One of the crocotta totaled my truck, trying to get to Sara.”
Shannon shuddered. “Six crocotta. Why would they come so close to the pack?”
“Someone sent them to find Sara. Luckily, she was with us and Nikolas and Chris were there.”
April wrapped her arms around her knees. “Is that the same Chris we met at Emma’s place this week?”
“That’s him,” Roland said.
She turned her face so Paul couldn’t see it and smiled at me. “Is this Nikolas guy as hot as Chris?”
I thought about Nikolas and smiled. “Yes, if you like moody Russian warriors who ride motorcycles.”
“Yes, please.”
Paul gave her a look of disbelief that had us all laughing. She turned and gave him a peck on the lips.
We all chipped in to clean up after our meal. I took the frying pan down to the water to scour it, and I jumped when I realized April was behind me.
“Sorry.” She laughed and grabbed me when I almost fell into the water.
I went back to cleaning the pan. “What’s up?”
“I, um…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I wanted to talk to you about the sleeping arrangements.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, because I knew where this was going.
She rubbed her lips together. “Would you mind terribly if I shared a tent with Paul? I’ve barely seen him all week, and I’d really like to have tonight with him. But I’ll totally understand if you’re uncomfortable sharing with Roland.”
Share a tent with Roland? My pulse leaped at the thought of lying close to him, in the dark, all night.
“I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that.”
“It’s okay. He’s stayed on my couch twice, so I guess we can sleep in the same tent for one night.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Sure about what?”
The two of us gasped when Roland spoke behind us. How could someone his size sneak up on you without making a sound?
I studied the pan in my hands while April answered him.
“I asked her if she minded sharing with you so Paul and I could have a tent together.”
Roland’s voice sounded a little deeper when he spoke again. “Emma?”
I lifted my eyes to his.
He gave me a small smile. “Since it’s such a nice night, I was thinking about sleeping by the fire. April and Paul can take my tent.”
“You don’t have to do that.” It was obvious he’d said it just to make me feel more comfortable. Now I felt bad for making him sleep outside.
“I love sleeping under the stars.” He took the pan from me. “Come on. It’s time for dessert.”
I felt myself relaxing under his easy manner. “Dessert?”
“S’mores. Official dessert of campers everywhere,” he said as we started back to the fire.
“I haven’t had s’mores in forever. My father used to make them for us at the beach…”
A lump formed in my throat as I remembered going to beach bonfires with my parents and little sister. Marie would have one s’more and then she’d fall asleep, and my father would carry her home. Those were some of my favorite memories of my family, and the most bittersweet.
Roland slowed. “That’s the first time you’ve mentioned anyone in your family besides Sara. Are they still in Syracuse?”
“No, they… Do you mind if we don’t talk about them?”
His eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t push. “No problem.”
After two s’mores, I declared I would explode if I ate another bite. The others laughed at my puny human appetite, and I told them I was glad I wasn’t the one paying for their grocery bills.
When the sun went down, so did the temperature. It didn’t bother the werewolves, and I envied them when I had to run to my tent and pull on the sweater I’d brought just in case. Every now and then a breeze from the ocean made me shiver until Shannon wrapped her blanket around my shoulders. After that, I was toasty warm by the fire.
April and Paul were the first two to quietly slip away to their tent as the night began to wind down. Shannon and Peter stayed by the fire with Roland and me, but I could tell by the looks they kept giving each other that they wouldn’t be far behind the other couple.
The wind picked up suddenly, making the flames dance crazily. The fire hissed, and seconds later, a fat raindrop hit my cheek.
I scrambled to my feet when cold drops began to pelt me. I ran for the tents, but I barely made it five feet before a wall of rain slammed into me. I squealed as the cold rain ran down my back and into the front of my bra. By the time I got to my tent, I was soaked through.
The flap moved behind me, and Roland ducked inside, his large body making the tent feel tiny and crowded. He zipped the flap closed.
“Looks like I’ll need a place to stay after all.”
Chapter 19
Roland
Emma looked away from me. “I guess there’ll be no stargazing tonight.”
I couldn’t tell if her voice trembled from nervousness or cold. She picked up the battery-operated lantern and turned it on. Pale light flooded the tent, illuminating her wet clothes and dripping hair. She shivered and set the lantern down on top of a rolled sleeping bag to reach for her backpack.
“Can you turn around so I can change into dry clothes?”
“Yeah.” There wasn’t a lot of room to maneuver, but I managed to turn away. I tried not to think about her getting undressed behind me, but the sound of her wet clothes landing on the floor of the tent made it an impossible task.
“I’m done.”
I looked to find her drying her hair with a small towel. She wore a pair of cotton capris and a T-shirt that didn’t hide the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. A shiver went through her, and she hunched her shoulders to get warm.
“Here.” I unrolled one of the mats and a sleeping bag. Unzipping the bag, I lifted the corner. “Get in. You’ll warm up faster.”
“Thanks.” She flashed me a smile and scurried over to get into the bag.
“Better?” I asked as I zipped her in.
She rubbed her legs together for warmth. “Yes.”
“Good. You might want to cover your eyes, though.”
“Why?”
I pointed at my wet jeans. “My backpack is still in the other tent, and I have nothing to change into. Unless you want to see a strip show…”
Her eyes widened, and she hid her face in the sleeping bag. “Go ahead.”
Grinning, I pulled off my wet clothes except for my underwear, using my T-shirt to get the excess water from my hair. I unrolled the second mat and sleeping bag and made myself comfortable. Rain pelted the tent, and I was glad it was a good waterproof one. I hated sleeping in a wet bag, but at least I wouldn’t be cold. I was more concerned about Emma’s comfort.
“You can look now.”
She lowered the top of her sleeping bag. “I hope the others are okay. I can’t hear anything over the rain.”
Considering what was probably happening in the other two tents, not being able to hear was a good thing.
“They’ve been camping a lot, and they’re used to rain.”
She rolled onto her side, facing me, and pulled her legs up. “I’m glad you guys have thick sleeping bags.”
“Apparently not thick enough. You’re cold.”
“A little, mostly my feet.” She rubbed the
m. “They’re getting warmer.”
I rolled to face her. “I’m sorry your first camping trip got rained out. I wanted it to be fun for you.”
“It was fun. But we should check the weather next time.” She snuggled deeper into her bag. “Did Sara ever go camping with you?”
“When we were younger, we went a few times during the summers. This was her favorite camping spot. The last few years, she started doing more of her own thing. I thought she was at home drawing or reading or something. Little did I know she was hanging out with a troll.”
Emma’s mouth turned up. “I guess you guys all had secrets. She told me she had no idea you and Peter were werewolves until last fall.”
I nodded. “It was a crazy time for all of us. She found out she was Mohiri and that we were werewolves, and she thought we’d hate her when we found out what she was. As if we could ever hate her just because she had a demon inside her. She’s Sara.”
She cleared her throat. “How did you feel when Nate was a…you know?”
I stared at her, surprised she knew about that. “Sara told you about Nate?”
“Yes, and I talked to him about it. It still upsets him.”
I ran a hand through my damp hair. “I’m not surprised. He was a vampire for only a week, but he has to live with what he did in that week.”
Her voice rose a notch. “He was the victim. The demon did those things, not him.”
“I know. I meant he remembers a lot of it and that’s hard to live with. Nate’s a great guy, and he’d never hurt someone on purpose.”
“Would you have felt the same way if he’d been like that for months or years?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. It was a question I’d asked myself after Nate was healed. “I like to think I would.”
She grew quiet, and I figured she was done talking. I sat up and reached over to turn off the lantern. Then I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling of the tent and listening to Emma move around.
“Are you still cold?”
“A little. I think it’s because my hair is damp.”
I turned on my side again and stretched out my hand to touch her cold, wet hair.