“That's what they said,” Aislinn answered suspiciously. “They also acted as if they were working on their own, but I've got the feeling none of it's that simple.”
Nodding like she'd come to the same conclusion, Annika mentioned, “Right, it's not like The Esbat forbids ritual sacrifice of sentient beings as long as the sacrifice is willing. But I guess Troy wasn't. Still,” she cast her gaze at Aislinn, “didn't you take their test over a week ago?”
“Yeah, so why would they wait if they were so afraid I'd blow the whistle on them? Or, if Estelle was so upset, why not come back the next day?”
“Good question, and if we want an answer, we'll need to know more about their coven, or at least about Cindy and Lisa.”
There was a quizzical light in Annika's eyes as she stood from the bed to pace back and forth, her countenance one that made Aislinn feel much more optimistic. Annika could be tenacious when it came to solving problems, and her psychic talents offered an edge not many could claim to possess. Such a thing would be extremely helpful when Aislinn's mind was currently too preoccupied with her transition to leave much room for puzzling things out.
Finally, the psychic stopped pacing and stood before her, asking, “Do you know where The Trine was established?”
“No, I just know they're an old coven.”
“Hmm, maybe there's some more information on them in the library at school. Eliard has excellent records on American covens, and I could put in a call to the curator to see if she can find anything that might help us.”
That was definitely a good idea. The only other way Aislinn knew to start searching for answers was by confronting her attackers outright, or going to The Trine about them. Though, if Cindy and Lisa were lying, and the coven was actually behind her attack, they'd just cover it up.
It was all so damned confusing, making Aislinn feel the need to draw the line in their discussion. The more they spoke of The Trine, the more angry and impatient she became.
It wasn't only their topic of conversation giving her trouble concentrating, however. It was also the scent of the roses sitting on the bedside table, and Annika's perfume, things Aislinn shouldn't have been able to distinguish so easily, but now stood out, just as she could pick up Troy's scent lingering on the bed.
And she wanted to go to him so damned badly she almost couldn't stand it.
Rubbing her arms, she stood from the bed, pacing a few feet away. The action prompted Annika to ask, “Are you okay?”
“No!” she snapped, swinging around to face her cousin, “I'm not fucking okay! I'm … ”
Trailing in realizing just how quick to anger she'd been, Aislinn pressed a hand over her mouth and apologized. “I'm so sorry, Annika, it's just … ”
“You're changing, I get it.” Annika nodded, though she didn't make any attempts to approach, asking instead, “Do you need anything?”
I need Troy, Aislinn thought impulsively, and quickly shook her head, suppressing the urge to yell about how things just needed to be the way they were that morning. But her control was fast approaching its breaking point, and sadly, Annika's next suggestion pushed her right over the edge.
“Maybe you should let Troy in. He'll know—”
“Just get out!” Aislinn retorted, grabbing the table next to the bed to pull over in her anger, sending the lamp on top crashing to the floor where the bulb shattered.
But the outburst was short lived, and she found herself staring down at the items in shock as her cousin quickly agreed to leave, heading for the exit.
“Okay, I'll be here for a few days anyway, so we can talk later.” Briefly stopping at the door, she looked back and added, “In the meantime, I'll call the curator and try to find out more, okay?”
Aislinn nodded silently, overwhelmed by the need to apologize and ask Annika to stay. But she was really beginning to fear she'd prove Troy right and hurt her cousin without meaning to, watching silently as the psychic stepped out.
In the process, she searched the hall for some sign of Troy before she could stop herself, though her limited view didn't offer any glimpse of the man who'd marked her. There was only a hint of his scent suggesting he was still there, waiting to get inside, and it wasn't enough to quell her anger.
So once the door shut, she unleashed it.
Turning, Aislinn yelled and kicked the table on the floor, snapping one of the legs before she sank back onto the bed with tears streaming down her cheeks. There was simply too much going on, and she didn't have enough patience to consider any of it. All she could think about was Annika's suggestion to let Troy back in—and she absolutely refused.
If she was going to become a werewolf, she'd do so on her own terms, starting by toughing this out. Then, when her transition was over, she'd find her attackers, get some answers, and make them pay bloody.
~*~*~*~
Troy was on the razor's edge, so wound up that when he heard Aislinn yelling, he shot up and nearly tried to ram the door open before recalling that it wouldn't work.
A moment later, Annika dejectedly stepped into the hallway, and he could only imagine it wasn't easy for her to deal with Aislinn's predicament. Hell, he'd been scowling all evening, particularly when the reason his mate had kicked the psychic out was due to her suggestion that she let him in.
Troy could barely handle the notion without pounding his fist into the nearest wall—and fantasizing that it was Aislinn's attackers.
The thought reminded him that Annika might know their identities now that she'd spoken with his mate, and parted his lips to ask just as the sound of Aislinn's angry yell from inside the bedroom hit his ears.
Tensing, his gaze locked on the door as if he could will it open, the urge to go to his distraught mate redoubling until he was growling with the effort of containing himself. Troy didn't just want to comfort her, he needed her embrace, feeling lost and decidedly hostile without it.
Annika must've sensed his distress as well because she offered a smile. “Hey, you may not believe this, but don't worry. She'll let you in soon.”
“How can you be so sure?” Troy asked more gruffly than he'd intended. “Because you're psychic?”
“No, because I know my cousin,” Annika countered. “When her dad left, she always strove for independence. That way, if someone ever hurt her again, she could move on without worrying. So this is just her way of trying to gain control in a situation where she's otherwise helpless. Aislinn's stubborn as hell, but she's not stupid, and soon she'll realize just how much she needs and wants you with her. I promise.”
A low growl rumbled out of Troy's throat, but he couldn't determine if it was simply his impatience, or if it was skepticism over her comment when he was convinced that Aislinn wanted nothing to do with him. Then again, Annika claimed to be more like her sister, meaning she knew what she was talking about.
As if hearing his thoughts, she went on, “Trust me, you won't be out here too long. So I'm gonna get going, but before I do, did you hear any of our conversation?”
“Parts of it,” he admitted. “She said her attackers belong to some coven called The Trine.”
“Right, Cindy and Lisa Palmer. They were around when you first met Aislinn.”
Troy stared at Annika blankly. “They did this to her?” They're both dead.
“Yeah,” Annika muttered. “I'm gonna call my school and try to find out more about their coven. Let Aislinn know I'll be at home and running Strange Brew, so she can call me if she needs me, okay?”
Troy gave a brief nod, still watching the door. While it was nice to finally have an answer, he didn't want to focus on The Trine or figure out what they were up to at that point in time.
He only wanted Aislinn.
“Uh … Troy?”
Annika's comment drew his gaze back to her face where he saw a vacant expression, one that made him question whether or not she was well. “What's wrong?”
Without focusing on him, she spoke as if actually seeing what she was saying, “If you do
n't send someone to warn the lupines in the city, there's gonna be trouble. Some of them will think you took advantage of the situation to mark Aislinn, and they'll confront you about it.”
Troy growled, ready to defend himself or anyone else from their accusations if need be. But before he could say so, Annika turned her gaze up to him, asking, “Should I take someone to go talk with Cade Hodgins on your behalf? I know him, and he trusts me, so I can explain it.”
“Yeah, take Bryant. He'll be in charge while I'm helping Aislinn through her transition.”
Annika smiled, saying as she turned to go, “I'll do that now.”
Troy watched her leave, deciding it was safe to say that he liked all of the Carmichael women. Now, if he could just get back to the one he was most interested in, things would be going much more smoothly.
Sadly, it seemed that was going to take a while.
Chapter 25
With the aid of magic, Aislinn managed to doze for about an hour, but in the end, it wasn't helpful.
Overcoming this transition was turning out to be much more difficult than she'd first assumed. The longer she spent alone, the less her thoughts flowed, and the more her emotion overflowed, swinging from one end of the spectrum to the other. She went from crying to enraged in the span of only a few moments, which led her to try using a spell to calm herself down.
Without her tools, and considering her lack of focus, the spell wasn't as strong as it could've been, but it did the trick—for a little while, at least. She could sense the magic seeping into her body as she'd chanted, relaxing her muscles like a massage, and her eyes grew heavy, allowing her to lay in bed and lightly drift in and out of consciousness.
Yet, the longer Aislinn dozed, the darker and more chaotic her dreams became, eventually waking her in a cold sweat. Sitting up and putting her feet on the floor, she tried to forget the unsettling images, but the uneasiness in the pit of her stomach was snowballing into full blown anxiety despite her best efforts. Her hands were shaking, her head was spinning, and she couldn't sit still.
This had to be what Troy warned of, and she tried everything she could to ease her distress, from going through her suitcase to see what was packed, to the menial task of brushing her hair at the dresser—but nothing helped.
Just how long would this transition take anyway? Hours? Days? Would she go back to normal then, or would she still be some raging, impatient bitch?
As if the mental strain and emotional turmoil wasn't enough, it was even affecting her physical state of being. She hadn't eaten since the night before, but her appetite was simply gone. Even thinking about food made her feel sick.
The only thoughts that brought her any joy whatsoever were those of being in Troy's arms, letting him caress her cheek and nuzzle her neck as he'd done earlier.
“No!” she yelled, angrily throwing her hair brush aside.
The object clattered across the dresser before haphazardly landing on the floor while Aislinn crossed her arms over her chest and uneasily rubbed her sides. Think of something pleasant, she told herself, but again, the only thing that came to mind was being with her mate.
My mate? This was definitely getting worse, and she could suddenly sense the beast within her, fighting her to be with her sire. But she was in charge here, not some animal spirit, and she'd be damned if she gave into it.
Yet, this time, her denial cost her well being.
A sudden wave of nausea hit, and Aislinn clamped a hand over her mouth, hurrying to the bathroom where she doubled over the toilet and painfully dry heaved. After several retches, she barely managed to wash her mouth out before collapsing to her knees, hands braced against the floor behind her, sweating and gasping for breath. The room spun around her, unable to capture a single thought to hold onto, and what she could grasp were all convulsive, violent images—in a word, frightening.
Troy was right, she couldn't handle this alone. It's too much.
Making matters worse, she realized he could be going through the same thing right that moment, and the thought drew tears to her eyes. Had her obstinance sentenced him to this kind of punishment? Guilt as she'd never experienced it came crashing down, and Aislinn couldn't recall a single instance where she'd felt worse.
Still braced against her arms on the floor, she desperately called, “Troy!”
That was all it took. The bedroom door immediately opened and shut, proving he'd refused to stay any farther away than necessary. In an instance, the werewolf was at her side in the bathroom, wrapping his arms around her in a fiercely possessive hold.
Aislinn clutched him tight, burying her face in his chest, unable to stop shaking as he whispered, “It's okay, darlin', you'll be okay.”
“Just hold me,” she rasped. “Please?”
“I'm never letting go of you, baby, don't worry.”
His hands smoothed up and down her back as he kissed the top of her hair, then her temple, and almost instantly, the room stopped spinning. With Troy so close again, she finally found enough clarity to focus, and didn't think anything could've been more soothing. Yet her cheeks heated with embarrassment over just how irrationally stubborn she'd been about this.
Still, maybe she couldn't blame herself entirely—it wasn't everyday a person literally died and came back to life—so her upset was well within reason. She'd simply been mistaken in thinking she could handle it alone. But now that the beast growing within her had been pacified by its other half, one thing was painfully clear.
Aislinn didn't only need Troy, she wanted him there.
His presence was like a much needed balm for a wound, melting away her anxiety to leave behind a potent sense of security and connection that was even stronger than his link as her familiar. She didn't think she'd ever get enough of him, especially his scent.
“Goddess, you smell … different now,” she whispered.
His voice was a deep rumble at her ear when he explained, “It's the same, your sense of smell is just getting stronger.”
Aislinn inhaled deeply through her nose to take in as much as possible, and it seemed as if that particular sense wasn't the only thing growing stronger either. Now that she wasn't bogged down with anxiety and fear, she felt more … sensitive, particularly in regards to Troy. The way his big hands were smoothing over her back, the strength in his body against hers, and the sound of his heart drumming against her ear were having a potent effect.
She traced her fingers over his torso, her hands dipping down to the seam of his shirt where she paused, then pressed them beneath the material, reveling at the warmth of his skin and the hard contours of muscle from his abdomen to his chest. Why hadn't she ever taken the time to appreciate his physique before? Or had her perception of it merely changed now that she was turning?
Whatever the answer, it was making her ache with arousal, even more so than during her abstinence. When he began nuzzling her neck, she shivered, her mind returning to the ritual, and the memory of their intimacy that night had her nipples hardening and panties growing damp in readiness of another round.
With her hands still wandering beneath his shirt, Troy groaned low, and she looked up to spy a particularly heated glint in his eyes just as his own hands slipped down over her ass and squeezed, proving he was just as desirous.
In response, her control vanished with only one thought in mind. He's mine, and I want him now.
With Aislinn's invitation, Troy hadn't wasted a single moment returning to her side, silently swearing to never release her again.
She was so warm and soft, and he couldn't stop nuzzling her, needing every bit of contact he could establish just as badly as she needed him to hold her. But for as relieving as it was to finally have his mate close again, the scent of her fear was sobering, making it obvious that her experience transitioning so far hadn't been pleasant.
The decision to call him in must have been a last resort, though in a strange way, he was proud of Aislinn for lasting so long on her own. She'd toughed it out, proving her streng
th and determination, just like Annika said she'd do—he only wished it wasn't a result of her hatred toward him.
Gods, the thought grated like nothing else ever could.
Troy was ready to tell her again how sorry he was, vow that he'd never hurt her for the rest of their eternal lives. In fact, he was surprised she wasn't already berating him—not that he could consider it at length when her fingers wandered beneath his shirt to caress his body. The contact distracted him from his concerns completely, as did her scent.
Aislinn was getting aroused.
It was particularly evident in her eyes, which had warmed to cerulean, bringing all logical thought to a complete halt. The mere notion of her unfulfilled desires had him hardening in readiness to please her, and he started by greedily grasping her ass and pulling her hips in close.
She arched into his hands in response, letting a sweet little moan that made his erection strain painfully against his jeans. But before he could initiate anything, Aislinn pushed him onto his back against the floor with more strength than she'd previously possessed, and climbed over him to straddle his hips.
“I need you so bad it hurts, Troy,” she confessed, clutching his shirt to pull off—and ripped the garment in the process.
Seeming surprised by her new strength, Aislinn turned a questioning gaze to his as if seeking reassurance that it was natural. In response, Troy grinned, carelessly tearing his shirt the rest of the way off for her, then sat up to capture her mouth in a fierce kiss.
The feminine growl she let in response drove him crazy. Urgently, he grasped the straps of her night gown, jerking them down so hard that they tore as her breasts erotically bounced free for a captivating moment that made his blood boil.
Troy cupped both in his hands, lifting them to roll his tongue over her pink nipples in turn until they were tight points, straining to be sucked. Aislinn moaned as her head fell back, latching one arm around him while opening his pants with the other hand. Freeing his cock, she shamelessly gripped it, offering a generous squeeze—and he needed more.
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