by Bru Baker
“I can take point on this. I don’t think it’s really Drew’s area of expertise.”
Harris made a face. “Is this the human thing again? Because Nick, we’re buds, but I’m siding with Drew on this one. He’s more than qualified to be here. And part of being here is helping train wolflings. Trust me, he’s got this, okay?”
Nick snapped the folder shut and pressed his tongue against his teeth to hold back his retort until he was sure he could be civil.
“I don’t have a problem with Drew being human. I have never had a problem with Drew being human,” he said, emphasizing his words. “But the scavenger hunt is designed to challenge the wolflings to expand and control their senses and test their reflexes. How is he going to be able to do that?”
Harris’s face split into a grin. “Oh man. You know what? How about we have Scott help him set up the course? Because I’d personally love to see you run a course Drew designs. I bet it would be very educational.”
It would be, because it would showcase how ill-advised it was to put Drew in the driver’s seat on this one.
“How long does he have to pull this together? You’re leaving now, right? Do you need a ride to the airport?”
Rory’s parents had let him spend the night with his friends but were holding firm to their choice to take him home instead of having him finish his time at camp.
“The Feldmans booked a car. It should be here soon. They flew into Lexington, so that’s where we’re headed. I thought it was absolute insanity to fly Rory home right now, but they rented a private jet. We’re flying with a Were pilot and no flight crew, so if things go pear-shaped, at least there won’t be any witnesses.”
That still didn’t sound like Nick’s idea of a good time, though he did envy Harris getting to leave the campus. Not that he wanted the job of chaperoning Rory and getting him safely installed back at his parents’ house. But he was wearing himself out keeping his wolf on a short leash—it seemed like Drew was everywhere, and it was getting harder and harder to deny his attraction to him. He’d settled for channeling all that energy into protecting Drew, but he couldn’t keep that up for much longer. He couldn’t explain why it was so important to him to know Drew was safe, but it was. And it only intensified the more Drew tried to put space between them. Drew was beyond pissed at him for crashing his morning runs, but after stumbling on those wolflings about to jump him, there was no way Nick could let him roam around that early alone.
God. With the way his instincts had been going haywire he’d probably be a bigger problem on a plane ride than Rory would. Nick ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself.
“How long is the trip?” he asked Harris.
Harris grimaced. “It’s like a two-and-a-half hour drive to Lexington, and then we’ll be in the air for about seven. They live on Catalina Island, and I guess Rory’s dad has some sort of beef with the owner of the airport because the Feldmans aren’t allowed to land their plane there. We’re flying into Long Beach and going the rest of the way by helicopter.”
That sounded absolutely horrendous.
“Good luck, man,” Nick said, squeezing Harris’s shoulder in sympathy. “Don’t worry about anything here. Kenya and I have everything covered with your wolflings, and I’m sure Drew and Scott will do a bang-up job on the scavenger hunt.”
He could tell his sarcastic tone hadn’t been lost on Harris, who just smiled benignly at the dig.
“I’ll be back in two or three days, depending on how things go at Rory’s house. It should be okay. The Pack compound is tucked away from the touristy areas, and they have facilities to handle out-of-control wolves, so even if Rory has trouble controlling his shift, they’ll be able to keep him safe.”
NICK hadn’t brought much to decorate his office with, which was fortunate because the one thing his office had a shortage of was wall space. Like all of the buildings at Camp H.O.W.L., it was designed with the intent of bringing the outside in. He had a wall of tall windows with a cozy window seat tucked underneath them, and it was framed on both sides with walls of bookshelves. It looked more like an eccentric millionaire’s study than a psychologist’s office, which was probably by artful design.
He had the prerequisite couch—leather, of course—for his patients to relax on, and a suede wingback chair for himself that felt like being enveloped in a hug. The desk he had only used once since arriving faced out into the room, but he felt silly sitting behind it. All the files were digital, accessible on the laptop he carried around with him, so there wasn’t much of a reason to have a desk in here aside from aesthetics. He preferred going over charts and doing other tasks at the cozy desk in his suite back at his cabin.
Right now, though, the desk was holding his laptop. He’d pulled his comfortable chair over so he could sit in it during his Skype session with Tate. It was strange enough being the patient in this office—he figured sitting on the couch would be one line too far.
“Thanks for making time for me.” Tate’s image was slightly pixelated, but his voice came through just fine, which was all that mattered. “Sorry about the connection. I’d usually be doing this from the office, but the building is being painted so I’m working from my apartment today.”
Nick appreciated Tate framing this conversation as a choice and not an institutional edict from Anne Marie. He was just grateful they’d found someone off-site and he wasn’t sitting in Kenya’s office right now. Though that would have defeated the whole point of requiring the camp’s three psychologists to have counseling sessions where they could vent about whatever was bothering them at camp.
“It’s a little weird,” Nick admitted. “I mean, I’ve been seeing a therapist for years. I think it’s important when you have a high-stress job like ours. You need that outlet. But I’ve never seen one who knew about werewolves, least of all was a werewolf, before. I won’t have to edit myself, and that’s a bit strange.”
Tate grinned. “I’m just glad Anne Marie didn’t get a bee in her bonnet about this while I was at Camp H.O.W.L. I ended up talking to Kenya anyway. But that was a little different since she’d been my mentor since college. Anyway, standard disclaimer stuff: I won’t talk to anyone about what we discuss in session unless I judge you are a danger to yourself or others. I will, however, recommend Anne Marie put you on leave if I think you aren’t fit to see patients, even if I don’t tell her why. That’s part of our agreement. To put your mind at ease, I’m not seeing Kenya or Harris. They are each working with different psychologists, so there’s no conflict. I am close with a lot of the staff, but I won’t let that get in the way of our professional relationship. Sound okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” Nick leaned back into his chair, glad Tate couldn’t hear his heartbeat, which was thundering right now. “I, uh, I do have a question, though. You said you are close with a lot of the staff. Does that include the new doctor?”
Tate raised an eyebrow. “Drew? Not really. He’s good friends with my partner, Adrian, though. So I do know him, but he’s not someone who confides in me. Are you having problems with Drew?”
“No. I mean, yes. It’s not a problem so much as a….” Nick searched for the right word. “Distraction, maybe?”
He took a breath, debating whether or not to go all in. He always told his patients a counseling session was only as good as what you put into it, but it was difficult to follow his own advice.
Tate leaned in, his image getting larger on the screen. “Why don’t we start with some background so I can get to know you a bit. You’re from Denver?”
Nick took the lifeline. “Sure, sure. Yes. I was living in Denver with my sister’s husband’s Pack. I had a psychology practice there that did pretty well, but I was getting tired of seeing unhappily married couples day in and day out. So when I heard about the opening at Camp H.O.W.L.—thank you for leaving, by the way—I jumped on it.”
Tate’s quick snort of laughter made Nick relax a bit. He and Tate were obviously compatible. He was a good ch
oice of therapist for Nick.
“Well, you’re welcome. It’s interesting that you wanted to transition out of private practice, and the entire reason I left Camp H.O.W.L. was to transition into private practice.”
Nick had heard all about Tate’s departure. He’d found his moonmate, which was a rare occurrence and not one to ignore. Not that Tate hadn’t tried. Adrian had been a camper when they met, though it wasn’t as skeezy as it sounded. Adrian’s Turn had come later in life, so he’d been dealing with not only the emotional and physical fuckery of the Turn but also the awkwardness of being a twenty-eight-year-old at a teen werewolf camp. They’d left to start a life together in New York City.
“I just—I want to believe people are essentially good, you know? But the couples I saw, there was just so much deception and hatefulness. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do that job and still believe in love and relationships.”
“You’ll have plenty of wolflings come crying to you about love and relationships,” Tate said with a chuckle. “But I get it. Teenage drama is much different than adults who let their prejudices and preconceived notions get in the way of their love for each other.”
That sounded uncomfortably close to his situation. “Drew has talked to Adrian, I take it?”
Tate sunk lower in the chair, his gaze narrowed on the laptop screen. “No. Well, probably. But I knew I’d be taking you on as a client, so I’ve asked him not to relay any of that to me. I’d never ask Drew not to confide in Adrian because it’s important he has an outlet, just like it’s important you have an outlet. I’m well aware of how the staff can rally around someone, and from your tone and your reluctance to talk about it, I’m guessing you’ve already experienced that.”
“They all think I hate Drew because he’s human! And that’s categorically false.”
“I believe you,” Tate said easily, and the anger that had been stirring in Nick’s belly cooled. “But let’s deconstruct this. How do you think they came to that conclusion?”
Nick sunk his teeth into his lower lip, thinking back to all of his public interactions with Drew. “For starters, we got off on the wrong foot. We hooked up before we got down here, and neither of us realized we were going to be coworkers. So I didn’t handle seeing him well at first. And then—he’s human, right? So he’s fragile. Breakable. And he’s working with all these kids who are literally here because they are learning to control their instinct to shift and tear things apart. It just doesn’t seem safe.”
Tate nodded. “So you’ve been protective of him.”
“Of course! I walked in on a group of wolflings who looked like they were about to maul him! So after that I made sure he wasn’t alone with wolflings.”
“By pushing yourself into situations he didn’t invite you into, I assume.”
It sounded bad when he said it like that. “To keep him safe,” Nick emphasized. “But yes. I’ve been showing up to run with him every morning so he’s not alone on the trails, and keeping an ear out for him when he’s around the campus.”
“I can understand why you would feel driven to do that, given you two had an intimate connection. But has that relationship continued?”
“Er, no. Because it would be inappropriate.”
“Camp H.O.W.L. doesn’t have a policy against staff dating,” Tate said.
“It would be inappropriate because he’s human. He can’t understand what being in a relationship with a wolf is like, you know? How could he, because he doesn’t have those same instincts. I mean, he’s annoyed with me now because I’m being protective, but that would increase tenfold if we were together. He has no idea what being with a Were entails, and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t understand me.”
Tate hummed thoughtfully. “I see. Have you talked to him about this?”
“Yes, of course. I mean, not extensively. But enough so he gets why I don’t want to pursue a relationship with him.”
“Let’s be clear here and call a spade a spade. You are attracted to him, and you must feel some level of deeper connection to him or you wouldn’t be so drawn to watch out for him. But you feel the two of you have too many differences to overcome, too many obstacles to navigate, for you to have a successful, healthy relationship. You aren’t willing to risk getting tangled up with someone who you think would end up breaking your heart because he could never fully accept you as you are. Am I on point with that?”
Nick had never had a therapist be so blunt with him. He could see why his patients always hated it when he did this to them. It was a very effective technique, and it sucked.
He looked down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. “Yes.”
“Okay.”
Nick looked up, puzzled, and Tate shrugged.
“I’m here if you want to talk about it, but you’re sending off some strong vibes that you don’t. My job is to make sure you’re in a healthy place, and from what I can judge with my limited knowledge of the situation and your relationship with Drew, you are. I’m not going to argue one side over another—that’s not my function here. I don’t think you being tied up in knots over having feelings for a human is interfering with your ability to live a healthy life and do your job. Do you?”
“No.”
“Right. So we can move on. Let’s spend some time talking about one of your campers almost drowning and the fallout from that.”
NICK wondered if his patients usually went home and napped after a session. He’d never given much thought to what they did after they left—not in any real sense. Clinically he hoped they followed his instructions and did the homework he assigned, but he had never tried to imagine what they did after they left his office.
Kenya had suggested he not schedule any appointments after his Skype session with Tate. He’d thought she was being dramatic, but he was grateful for it now. He and Tate had covered a lot of ground in their hour together, and he’d come out of it feeling like he’d been through a wringer.
It had been a relief to be able to close up his office and head back to his suite. He couldn’t stop thinking about the unvarnished way Tate had framed his reluctance to get involved with Drew. Was it really that simple? Nick had blown it up into something so complicated in his head, but what it boiled down to was him being afraid of getting his heart stomped on when Drew inevitably got tired of dealing with all his wolfy shenanigans.
But was that unfair to Drew? What if Drew did understand what he was getting into? Did he even still want a relationship with Nick? Nick probably wouldn’t, if the tables were turned.
He opened the door to cabin two and immediately froze. Drew’s scent was heavy in the air, and there was a large manila envelope on the floor. Nick stooped to pick it up, ripping it open before he’d even stood back up.
Hey, wolfie!
You’re invited to join the campers from cabins one and two in a game of Catch Me If You Can. The wolflings have already started, so they’ve got you at a disadvantage. Start at the koi pond behind the infirmary and test your senses as you try to outsmart the wolflings and get to the prize—me—first!
Regards,
Drew
What the hell did Drew think he was playing at having the wolflings hunt him? The scavenger hunt was supposed to be a way to hone their senses, not a way to get Drew killed. The wolflings would be fully shifted, with their senses wide open. If they got too into the thrill of the hunt, they could seriously hurt Drew without meaning to in their excitement at finding him.
Nick didn’t waste any time. He dropped the note and started stripping so he could go full shift himself. He had no idea how much of a head start the wolflings had, but odds were good he’d still beat them to Drew. As attuned to Drew as he was, it wouldn’t be hard to follow his scent trail.
He whined slightly when he realized the door was closed, but a split second later Nick realized the handle was a lever. Smart. The entire camp had been carefully designed for wolves, but he hadn’t shifted indoors until now, so he’d never really taken
notice of the doorknobs.
He tipped it down with his snout and chuffed in victory when the door creaked open, then darted outside and took the steps at a full run. He could smell Drew’s spicy-sweet scent lingering in the air and used it as a beacon to guide him to the starting point. The koi pond was empty, but he was able to keep following the trail to the edge of the woods. Two feet into the trees, though, the aroma abruptly disappeared.
Nick stopped and turned in a circle, nose to the ground as he tried to pick up the scent trail. Nothing. It was like Drew had just vanished. He sat on his haunches, head cocked as he listened for any clues. Nothing sounded out of place—just the usual insects and birds.
The ground was undisturbed, the usual leaf litter and branches cluttering the rough trail. He couldn’t pick up the scent of peppermint or eucalyptus, two of the oils people often used to confuse sensitive wolf noses. How in the world had Drew disappeared like that? The trail wasn’t wide enough for an ATV, and even a dirt bike would have left tracks.
Something fluttered at the edge of his vision, and he snapped his head around, eyes narrowing as he identified what it was—the edge of a rope. He followed it up and saw it was coiled around a branch about thirty feet overhead.
Son of a bitch.
The fucker had gone up. That’s why his scent abruptly ended. He’d climbed the rope and then drawn it up after him. Nick trotted along, neck craned as he searched the trees. A long branch within human jumping distance stretched between the tree with the rope and another nearby, so that was probably where Drew had gone. Nick couldn’t pick up Drew’s scent around the base of that tree, though, which meant he’d continued on through the treetops.
Nick picked his way across the forest floor, stumbling over logs and slipping on leaves and acorns since his gaze was trained upward. After half a dozen false starts, he finally picked Drew’s scent up again. He’d climbed down and spent enough time in the hollowed-out base of an old oak tree that it was thick with the spicy aroma of his sweat. Nick sniffed around it and found a note card hidden inside.