Looked like I’d found it, because it took no time at all for me to start thrusting up into his mouth.
“Nuh uh.” He’d pulled off, leaving my poor, neglected cock to bob helplessly in front of his face. I strained forward, eager. “Stay still, Jay.” He tapped my ass lightly, to punctuate.
“You’re so mean,” I sighed.
His eyes crinkled in amusement. “Guess I’d better not do this, then,” he said, and pulled my pants the rest of the way down. Before I could speak again, he’d pulled me closer, one hand wrapping around my cock while his head bent to my ass.
I moaned at the first sensation of his tongue against my hole.
“So sweet,” he whispered, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to hear that or not. He dove back in, lapping eagerly, his tongue circling the outside of my entrance before dipping inside, over and over again. The noises he made were obscene: the wet sound of my slick and his mouth, the happy little groans he hummed against my body.
“Gavin,” I moaned, and hearing his name was enough to make him tighten his hand around me to jerk me harder, faster.
It didn’t take long for me to come in thick spurts, streaking across his hand, his hair. He didn’t stop teasing me, licking me out, until I was thrashing my head from side to side, overstimulated.
His cheshire cat grin as he moved up my body was smug. “I’ve been missing that,” he admitted.
I smiled, lazy, and reached for him again. “Let me,” I said, but he shook his head.
“We’re almost out of time.”
“What do you mean?”
“Time… moves differently here,” he said. “You’ll be waking up soon. But I have to warn you.”
I frowned. “Warn me about what?”
“It’s your plans, Jay,” he said. “For lunch. I don’t want you to go to it.”
“These are my friends,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “There’s not anything - I’m not going to cheat on you, if that’s what you’re thinking!”
He looked surprised. “Of course you wouldn’t.” He blinked. “That never crossed my mind.”
“Oh,” I said. Whoops.
“It’s Jessup,” he started. “I need you to stay safe until Samhain. The threat isn’t over. He’s planning to -” But whatever Gavin intended to say was swept away by the swirling, pearlescent white mist.
I woke with a start.
A dream. It was just a dream.
I mauled the pillow beside me in the bed. Just a fucking dream.
But -
I sighed, and swung my feet out of bed. I’d dreamed about Gavin before. Nothing… like this, though. Nothing that felt more like a visitation than a conjuring of my own imagination. And my body… I felt refreshed. Truly relaxed. Thoroughly sated. I hadn’t come in the sweats that I wore to bed, but I sure felt that I’d just released.
I looked longingly at the clothes I’d tossed on top of the dresser when I was putting away the laundry the day before.
I didn’t want to be stuck here again. It was possible that I’d only dreamed about Gavin warning me about Jessup because I was still afraid of the little creep. Dad had done the same the night before, and I’d just fallen asleep with him already on my mind.
There was probably no reason for me to be concerned. It wasn’t like I was never alone here. Sure, we had plenty of visitors, and Dad lived here... but it wasn’t like he never left the house. If Jessup were still around, he’d had plenty of time to attack me already, right? Why would he wait until I left town to do it?
Then again…
Leaving the relative safety of the packlands was the perfect time to get to me. When I couldn’t just howl for help and expect someone to come running.
I flopped back onto the bed with a huge, gusty sigh. It came down to whether or not I believed that I’d actually spoken to Gavin in that dream or not.
And honestly? I did.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Yeah, I’m really sorry. No - no! Promise. It’s just that Dad really needs me…”
I gestured at Dad to be quiet as he stepped through the kitchen door. I hated using him as an excuse. I was always one to bow out of things more directly if I didn’t want to take part.
Frankly, I hated cancelling these plans period… but needs must.
“Yeah, I’ll tell him. I’m sure he’ll be up and at ‘em in no time. You guys have a safe drive back!”
I slumped against the countertop as I hung up the phone. Dad raised an eyebrow.
“What have I done now?” he joked.
“I told them you fell and broke your leg,” I said.
“Told who?”
“The guys,” I said glumly. “That was me canceling lunch.”
Dad waved at me as if to say, Go on.
I pushed myself back to sit up on the counter, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my legs. “I had this dream,” I said. “Gavin was there.”
I gave him the rundown.
“Are you sure you’re not just projecting?” Dad asked me delicately. “It’s okay if you are. I know I struggled with stuff like that after your Mam left us.”
I shook my head. “No, this was… I mean, I know what a normal dream feels like. I have all sorts of crazy ones. The other night I was trying to take baby out on his first shift and I found a polka dotted elephant trying to make friends with a T-rex.”
Dad chuckled.
I did, too. It had been a pretty fun dream, even if I’d been annoyed that they were blocking the way into the woods.
“The point is,” I continued, “I’ve never had a dream that felt this real. And… well, it’s true, isn’t it? Jessup is still out there, somewhere, and I know I’m pretty badass - ” Dad coughed. On purpose, the nerve of him. “- anyway, I know I’m pretty badass, but I don’t want to risk my son. If it means staying home today, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Dad looked pointedly at my stomach. “Yesterday you were calling the little munchkin ‘bean’ and ‘pup’ and ‘cricket’,” he said. “Did Dream Gavin tell you the gender, too?”
“...yes?”
“I see,” Dad murmured. “You know, Nash is a fine name for a pup.”
I busted out laughing. “Never change, Dad,” I said.
He scowled. “I was serious!”
I quieted down. “Actually…” I started. “I kind of woke up thinking of a name.”
“Oh yeah?”
I reached for the cup of water that was tucked beside the microwave, more out of needing to give my hands something to do than for any real thirst. Without Gavin there, Dad was the closest family I had. What if he thought I was just being silly?
“Tierce,” I said finally. “It means ‘third’. I was thinking… I should be able to get Gavin back right before the birth. And then baby makes three.”
Dad stepped forward to nudge against me in a quick scent mark. “I think it’s a good name, son,” he said. “He’ll be a fine pup.” He reached around me to the coffee pot. “Besides, there’s always the middle name for your old man.”
I rolled my eyes.
I doodled around the house that day, feeling sorry for myself and frustrated with my lot in life. I knew that I was pouting. Dad didn't stay long after the pity party began, and honestly, I couldn't blame him. I was getting on my own nerves, and I didn't begrudge it when he said he was going over to Stella's a day early.
I didn't expect him back until supper, but not an hour later he pelted through the door, his face frantic. "What's happened?" I asked immediately, and I didn't object when he drew me into a warm hug.
"It's Sara. She's been in an accident."
I blinked at him. "Is she alright?" It would've had to have been a very serious crash indeed for him to display this open worry. We healed so much faster than humans that car accidents were usually more of an inconvenience than anything to fear. I'd known a shifter in the city who’d walked away from a six car pileup that killed everyone else involved. They’d had to whisk him to a "private hospital" just to get
him away from human eyes who would be concerned about his accelerated rate of healing.
Dad let out a breath. "She's fine," he said, "she's back home now. Her truck is totaled, but all things considered…"
"Dad," I said. "What is it you're not telling me?"
Dad scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck, then seemed to choose his words carefully. "She was run off the road, son. It was Jessup."
My mind started to race. Had he hurt her? I assumed that she sustained some injuries in the crash, but how had she managed to get back home? Did someone stop to help, or did he just do it to make a point and leave?
"Can I go?" I asked. "To see her, I mean. Is she up for that? What did Jessup do?"
"Slow down!" Dad said. "I think it would be best if you did go, but I'll take you over myself. She's a little banged up and a little bit emotional, so don't worry if she’s... upset. She's going to be alright."
My heart sank. Did she think that this was my fault?
It only took a few moments for us to head on over, and like Dad said, Sara was alright. There was a large gash running from her collarbone around her back, and her leg had been broken. But it was already healing, and while her clothes were still spattered in blood, there wasn't much to be seen of the small cuts and gashes that I assumed she had sustained.
We walked in just as Sara was finishing up reporting to Bran. When she saw me, her gaze went wide and unfocused, and she closed her eyes, visibly getting herself under control before staring straight at me.
"He said -" she started tremulously, but her voice got stronger and more strident with each word. "He said that no omega bitch was going to get away from him. I am his warning. ‘The pretty little jay-bird needs to watch his back.’”
It was early afternoon by the time we got home. Lunchtime and come and passed, but there was something that I needed to do before attending to the needs of my stomach. I was worried - but underneath it was an almost preternatural calm. Dad was more agitated than I; he paced from room to room, looking like he would run off after Jessup himself at any moment.
Dad wasn't a huge gun enthusiast, but he had acquired a couple shotguns and rifles over the years. They were useful for living in the boonies, vacationing in bear country, and taking down prey in a mixed company with humans. I retrieved them now. I had seen Jessup fight; a shotgun might be more effective to me than shifting and defending myself the old fashioned way.
We weren't prone to leaving the windows wide open in the dead of winter. Still, we raised them from time to time just to get some clean, fresh air into the house. As well, the airing out had only been a few weeks ago. It was possible that there had been a window or two left unlatched, and so I moved throughout the house to check them. Thus secured, I pointed Dad to a chair at the table and told him to sit.
"I’ll make some grilled cheese," I said.
"I gotta tell you, son, I usually can't get enough of your cooking. But I can't say that I'm very hungry today."
I snorted. After all that fuss to make sure I didn’t waste away, the shoe was on the other foot now. Unfortunately.
"I’m not real peckish myself. But we’re going to chow down on a sandwich anyway."
And that's what we did. There's a certain feeling of hopelessness that overtakes you when you know that someone means you harm and doesn't care who they have to hurt in order to get you. I could see it in Dad’s face that he was feeling helpless, and I understood. It surprised me how very calm I was being about this whole ordeal, but Gavin’s face from my dream, red-flushed and sensual, flashed across my mind whenever I took a moment for myself. It bolstered me. Kept me going.
I was distracted at the stove, trying to consider what other precautions we could take. Bran already had the pack running extra patrols near our place, but we couldn’t ask for a full time guard. Besides, Jessup hadn’t gone after Sarah until after she had left the pack’s territory. That said to me that Jessup wasn't willing to risk dealing with a pack that was still on full alert.
But something else stuck out to me. Sara’d mentioned that she wasn't sure it was him at first. She smelled alpha, but the scent notes that were unique to Jessup alone had been hard to identify in the aftermath of the crash. She'd written it off as just having a jarring experience, but what if it was something more than that?
Wolves weren’t the only dangerous ones out there.
I rescued the bread from burning and plated our food, still considering, but it wasn’t until I was two bites in that I figured it out. "The witch," I blurted with my mouth full.
"Huh?"
"The witch," I said again. "Wasn't there some lady that you and mom used to be friends with? Is she still around? Could we get her out here to lay some wards?"
Dad swallowed his mouthful. “I haven't spoken with Deirdre for years," he mused. "She was always more your mam's friend than mine, although I was good fishing buddies with her brother, Edward."
"Is she still alive?"
"I haven't heard that she passed," Dad said. "But I'll have to look up her phone number. I don't remember it, and I've changed phones since then."
Deirdre was short, squat, and beautiful, with kind eyes and a generous attitude. She was dressed conservatively, yet I got the idea that she would be entirely at home in bright, flowy fabrics in some sort of hippie stereotype. She was completely comfortable in her own skin.
It was clear that she was in her element, walking Dad and I around the borders of the property and explaining how the wards she laid for Mam years ago had deteriorated, and where the weaker spots were.
“Hmm,” she said, finally. “Alright.” She took a deep breath before launching into her explanation. “I’m going to be raising what I’d call War Wards. These are heavy duty; I wouldn’t normally use them for a shifter’s property because you’ve already got some extra advantages.” She winked. “But in this case, I think protecting you and the pup should be top priority.
First I’m going to cleanse the land. This is usual, don’t worry about that. But because he’s been staying here, I’m going to add a little extra kick, since his living here could have forged a little link to the property.”
“Sonuvabitch,” Dad swore.
Deirdre patted his arm, but Dad was fuming, his hands shoved down in his jacket pockets and his jaw clenched tightly. “Don’t worry, Nash. I’ve got this.”
She went on to detail the rest of the procedure - she’d be laying a triple layer of warding along the property line, with another two layers of protection around the house. She’d have to come back for those - this working was going to massively drain her energy - but by the time she was done, Jessup wouldn’t even be able to step foot over the property line. Neither could anyone or anything else that would likely harm us - she hadn’t tested them, but she was fairly certain that the warding would stop a natural disaster in its tracks… on our property, anyway.
I was completely in awe of her.
Not for the first time, I lamented that wolves could not possess magic in the same way that a witch could wield it. I'd always found it fascinating; if it were possible and I were more ambitious, I knew that my status as a shifter combined with the power of a witch could run the world.
Everyone needs the odd megalomaniac daydream, right?
It took hours. The sun was fully set well before Deirdre left. And as the wards had gone up, piece by piece, I had been able to feel a substantial difference in my very body. With the wards intact, I felt calmer, more peaceful. I could feel them thrumming over my skin as I stepped in and out of the property line; there was an odd sort of feeling of ultimate protection in the back of my mind.
Deirdre said that my awareness of the warding would fade – similar to the way I could "mute" my hearing so that I didn't pick up on everything around me all the time. She left exhausted, but smiling, with a word of caution to Dad that I pretended I didn't hear until we were back in the house.
"I've heard about a shifter looking for charms to hide their scent. I haven't sold
any myself, but there are some that don't care where their money comes from. If this Jessup has found that no good Whitmire witch a few towns over, then he probably already has one. Your boy’s safe in this property, but Nash, you need to keep an eye out on him whenever he leaves."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The months passed by slowly, March hastening into April, then May. I found online work that I could do even without a stable Internet connection. Summer brought a riotous cascade of roses, and I spent most of my time outdoors.
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