Then, Helena further subdivided their clothes into machine wash and dry cleaning only piles. It was time to try her hand at laundry. And if that didn’t work out too badly, then she’d do Dolf’s machine wash clothes.
But first, her own.
Grabbing her first armload of laundry, Helena went to dump it in the washer. Then she spent about five minutes puzzling through the directions on the various detergents and softening products lined up on top of the dryer, before settling on the pair that best seemed to suit her clothes. Setting the wash cycle on cold water (as the detergent had directed) and gentle (just in case), Helena said a brief prayer and then hit start.
Then, since her self-assigned task had stalled out, at least for the time being, Helena went to see what Declan was doing.
He was vacuuming up the bits of cushion stuffing that littered the living room, so Helena went into the home office to sort out Dolf’s books. The damaged ones went on top of the desk; the undamaged ones haphazardly stacked on the nearest empty shelf. Dolf could reorganize them later.
She took a break to move her washing to the dryer, studying the directions on the box of drying sheets, before she set the dryer on its coolest setting. The dryer’s softening sheets didn’t have any specific temperature settings in their directions, but it seemed like the safest thing to do.
And then, since her own clothes had still been all the right colors, Helena tossed a load of laundry into the washer for Dolf. Since her own laundry had turned out so well, she put Dolf’s things on all the same settings.
By then, Declan had finished up with Dolf’s books, so they took a brief break. Laying himself out in the hallway, he settled down for a nap. While he slept, Helena filled out a couple of applications on her laptop in what was left of the home office.
When Declan finally woke up, Helena insisted that they at least start on cleaning up his place too. Borrowing Dolf’s cleaning supplies from their place under the counter, they went upstairs to see what could be salvaged from Declan’s place.
Not a lot, as it turned out.
It was the first time that Helena had seen Declan’s apartment since the hellhounds had broken into it.
The place was completely trashed.
No wonder he’s been sleeping at Dolf’s place, thought Helena. It’s way better than this.
Helena hoped that he hadn’t liked any of his stuff too much, because everything that he owned now fit into the suitcase that he had parked next to Dolf’s shoe rack.
Everything that might have once lived in a cupboard in Declan’s previously barren kitchen now lay on the floor, most of it in pieces. Among the shards of his cups and plates rotted the remnants of his refrigerator’s contents, while in his front room, Declan’s poker table was in pieces, ragged bits of green felt littering the carpet, and all the bottles of liquor were shattered.
In his living room, the flat screen television had been broken, the cushions on his couch clawed apart, and even his cat scratching post had been torn apart. His bedroom, bathroom, and closet were more of the same.
Nothing was salvageable. Everything that Declan owned was in the suitcase in Dolf’s apartment.
It was the biggest mess that Helena had ever seen. Just looking at it and knowing that it was her fault brought her spirits down. Even worse, she had blithely volunteered to help it all clean up. Not that there was much left to clean.
On the bright side, I’m much better at cleaning up after myself now, thought Helena, trying to bolster her flagging confidence. This’ll probably be a snap.
“This shouldn’t take too long,” opined Declan from his place beside her. “Most of it’s for the trash bags, I think.”
“I’m so sorry,” said Helena, meaning it from the bottom of her heart.
“It’s no big deal.”
“But I’ve ruined all your stuff! It’s all my fault that they wrecked everything!”
“There wasn’t much to wreck, anyway, and none of it was very valuable,” said Declan, as they got to work. “I got all of my furniture secondhand – well, except for the scratching post. That, I had made.”
“Because you turn into jaguar rather than a dragon,” said Helena. Neutrally, she had thought, but Declan scowled at her.
“So what if I do?” he challenged. “I like my other form!”
“It’s very pretty!” Helena hurried to reassure him, something which made Declan’s face – and his defensive anger – falter. “Anyway, it’s one more shape than I’ve ever managed,” added Helena.
“You don’t transform? At all?”
Helena shook her head.
“No. I get scales sometimes.” Helena hesitated there, but Declan was her cousin, and she needed his help. And she still wasn’t much of a Tarleton anyway. Feeling very daring, Helena added “And I get webbing between my fingers when I eat strawberry ice cream, but that’s it.”
Declan grinned.
“Is that because you like strawberry ice cream that much or because you hate it?”
“I love it!” Or at least, she did. It had been years since she had last eaten strawberry ice cream, after all.
“So… webbing?” Declan looked her over, his eyes narrowed in thought. “Are you sure that you transform into a dragon?”
“No. I thought I must be one, just like mother, but then Declan said that I might not be, and now I don’t know what to think.”
“It’s good advice,” said Declan. “After all, I’m not a dragon either.”
“But how did you figure it out?”
“Well, I had an idea of what I could be, if I wasn’t a dragon. After all, my dad is a jaguar too. What was your dad?”
“I don’t know! I was so little when they died that I don’t remember. All I can remember is his singing.”
She dreamed about it sometimes, heard snatches of it at unexpected moments.
“So the next time that you try, maybe think about that and your scales and your webbing and maybe the taste of strawberry ice cream and see what that gets you.”
“But what if I don’t change?” asked Helena plaintively.
“Then you don’t change. It’s no big deal. You’re fine the way that you are.”
Cheered, Helena beamed at him. “Okay!”
“Just remember to have fun with it. Above all else, shapeshifting is supposed to be fun.”
“I’ll try,” promised Helena.
“Just… try not to cut your fingers. That bit of glass looks awfully sharp.”
“Pffft!” scoffed Helena. “You worry too much!”
“Yeah, I probably do,” drawled Declan, his gaze lingering in turn on her scraped up shins, bruised knee, and the various band aids on her fingers. His gaze made the burgeoning bruises on her back ache.
Flexing her fingers, Helena scowled.
“Why does everyone keep bringing those up? I was just a bit clumsy!”
And also, he had knocked her first into a car and then down onto the pavement. But, as he had been saving her life at the time, Helena decided not to bring that up.
“Everyone? Who is everyone?”
“You! And Dolf!”
“Everyone important,” agreed Declan, smirking, and Helena grinned.
“You’re quite sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Of course! If I’m not sure of me, who else will be?”
There was nothing that Helena could say to that. And so, while alternately chatting and bickering good-naturedly, she and Declan threw away the worst of the debris in his apartment.
Chapter 18 – Dolf
Back at the apartment complex, Dolf was happy to see that the police were still nosing around Lazarus’ death, even if it meant parking in a different lot and fending off three separate attempts to question him between the parking lot and the pool.
Dolf was on his way back to his apartment, following the sidewalk as it curved around the amenities, when he spotted them. Well, he spotted Declan through the wrought iron fence that surrounded the lap swimming pool’s deck.
The other Defender was lounging in the sunshine like the big cat he was. But if Declan was taking it easy on the pool deck, then that meant Helena was in the pool swimming laps.
Changing directions, Dolf headed for the pool deck.
Declan was sprawled out on a long deck chair on the opposite side of the pool deck, his lounge chair in line with Helena’s lane. On the deck chair next to Declan was a small pile of things: a towel, flip-flops, a small pile of clothes, a bottle of sunblock, and a thick, leather bound book, all presumably Helena’s.
At his approach, Declan lazily lolled his head to one side, the picture of indolent ease. Dolf could see the moment that Declan registered his presence. Declan immediately sat bolt upright, a look of open relief on his face.
“Just in time,” cheered Declan. “I thought I was going to have to beg for mercy! If I’d realized how long she could do this, I’d have made a pit stop before she got started. Have you got things here?”
“Yeah,” said Dolf. “Go on then.”
Declan didn’t need to be told twice. He practically bolted, several people shouting “No running!” at his rapidly retreating back.
Claiming Declan’s vacated lounge chair for himself, Dolf got comfortable, easily ignoring the questioning looks sent his way. He couldn’t have been the first man to relax on the pool deck in business casual.
From behind the reflective lens of his sunglasses, Dolf watched Helena’s sleek form cut its way through the water. She had a beautiful stroke.
He didn’t have long to enjoy it though. Soon enough, Helena came to the side of the pool. She drank from her water bottle, and then put it aside. His mouth dry and his heart pounding in his chest, Dolf watched Helena pull herself out of the water, Aphrodite emerging from the sea.
He loved it when she did that.
Now on her feet, Helena finally looked his way. At seeing Dolf, her pretty face lit up. It was entirely gratifying.
“Hey,” said Dolf, giving her a little wave. “How was your day?”
As far as openings went, it wasn’t his most inspired. However, turn about was fair play. And judging by the way that Helena beamed at him, it was definitely the right way to go with her.
“It had its ups and downs,” said Helena, as she padded across the pool deck, leaving wet footprints in her wake. “On our way back to the apartment, we got take out for lunch.” Now standing next to him, Helena leaned over to grab her towel. Briskly, she began to dry off. “And then someone tried to kill me or Declan in the parking lot. Well, I thought it could be either of us. But Declan said that it was probably me.”
Surprised, Dolf sat up straighter. Carefully, he said “Sounds busy.”
“It was! And then someone named Cherisse Van Hoorn –”
“You met Cherry?” demanded Dolf, fear for her gripping his throat.
“Yes, because Declan was probably dying. He said he was, at any rate. And then there were the police. Then we did a bit of cleaning in his apartment, swimming, and now there’s you.”
Dolf sucked in a deep breath. He held it for a few seconds, and then slowly breathed it out.
She was obviously fine. Declan had also obviously been fine. There was no need to worry about either of them, especially so long after the fact.
Dolf still instinctively wanted to touch them, to make sure.
“Okay,” he said, as Helena wrapped her towel around her waist. “Let’s try this again. Starting with the moment that you left my sight, what happened today?”
Giving in to his instincts, Dolf helped Helena gather up her things, his fingertips brushing hers at every opportunity. It wasn’t nearly enough, but he told himself that it was.
Together, they walked slowly back to his apartment building, giving Helena plenty of time to tell him all the thing that had transpired since they had parted ways at the office. It was harrowing stuff, particularly since Declan was his pack mate and Dolf had an entirely unprofessional interest in this particular client, but it sounded like Declan had more or less had a handle on things.
“Where’s Cherry now?” inquired Dolf.
“She said that she had another patient to get to.”
“Poor bastard,” said Dolf with real feeling.
“Why? She was very gentle when she was putting band aids on my shins.”
“I thought you said that you hadn’t gotten hurt!”
“I didn’t! I mean, except for a few scrapes and bruises on my back. I hurt my shins later.”
Briefly, Dolf closed his eyes. Opening them, he asked “What’d you break this time?”
“A couple of mugs?” said Helena, now anxious. “I was trying to make tea. You know, to calm down after everything. You’re not mad, are you?”
“Nah, all of my mugs were free.”
And at some level, it was only to be expected. She was a complete menace in the kitchen, mostly to herself, although he hadn’t entirely ruled out her being a danger to other people yet. They were all lucky that she hadn’t managed to hurt herself worse.
“Someone broke your couch,” added Helena. “They also destroyed some of your books and maybe some of your camping gear.” Quickly she added, “Not me! It was the intruder. The one that Declan said was looking for Mr. Lazarus’ wills.”
“He’s probably right about that.”
“Are you mad?” asked Helena, while peeking at him out of the corners of her eyes.
“Mad? Why would I be? These things happen.”
“Well… you don’t really like messes.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like you did any of this on purpose,” said Dolf.
Besides, he found that he kind of liked the idea of replacing his broken things with their new things.
Next to him, Helena visibly brightened.
“So what about you?” demanded Helena. “What’d you do after we left?”
Dolf grinned at her, his earlier happiness bubbling up inside his heart.
“I took my physical today,” he announced happily. “And I passed!”
“With as good shape as you’re in? Of course you did!”
Dolf laughed, pleased and gratified by her faith in near equal measure.
“We should go out and celebrate!” added Helena excitedly.
Dolf stared at her, bemused. Outside of first his unit and later the other Defenders, he had never had anyone who wanted to celebrate his big moments with him. And there were people out to kidnap her, now kill her.
Helena’s happy expression began to falter.
“Or maybe not?” she said. “We could stay in, I suppose, maybe eat some leftovers.”
“No, no, no!” said Dolf quickly. He hated to see her so upset! “It was a good idea! We should go out. To celebrate!”
Helena’s face lit up again. “Really?”
“Yes!” Improvising, Dolf said “I was just trying to remember what I’ve got that’s clean enough to wear out.”
Helena relaxed.
“Oh,” she said. “You’ve got lots of clean stuff to wear.”
“I do?” asked Dolf, surprised.
“Yeah,” said Helena with a little nod. “It seemed gross to wear stuff that a stranger had been pawing through, so I washed all our stuff. Well, everything that said machine wash on the label.”
“You… did my laundry?” Even to his ears, his voice sounded strangled. His face was usually warm, hot even.
It was a good thing that he wasn’t the blushing kind.
“Yes,” said Helena, and her pretty face was rosy too.
Just like after our first kiss, mused Dolf.
“Thanks,” said Dolf, instead of kissing her again. He very much wanted to kiss her again.
“It was the least I could do! C’mon! Let’s go get Declan!”
“Yes ma’am,” said Dolf reflexively, and then grinned at the peculiar looked that Helena favored him with for it. Inside, though, he was disturbed.
Declan. Dolf had nearly forgotten about him. It wasn’t like him to forget about his teammates. Worse, on hearin
g his name, Dolf had been disappointed. He hadn’t wanted Declan to tag along on their –
What? Date? Dolf thought harshly. This isn’t a date. And she should invite Declan to it. He’s the other half of her protection detail, after all.
From here on out, he had to remember that wasn’t just him and Helena any more. It was the three of them, him and Helena and Dolf. And Helena wasn’t just Helena, Declan’s cute if clumsy cousin, anymore. She was a client, and this was now a job.
Dolf wished that things could go back to the way that they used to be. Firmly, he crushed that unworthy emotion from his heart.
A call from Dolf to Declan as Dolf and Helena made their way up the stairs got Declan on the same page as everyone else, and they all agreed to meet up again in three quarters of an hour or so. Declan would be getting ready in another Defender’s apartment, because, as he said “It’ll take forever, if we all use the same bathroom.”
Dolf couldn’t argue with that. Or maybe he just didn’t want to argue with it.
Upstairs, in Dolf’s apartment, Helena went straight to her closet. When she reemerged a few moments later, she was wearing his t-shirt and nothing else. In fact, Dolf was so busy looking at her, taking that in, along with how small and gorgeous and his she looked in his clothes, that he barely noticed the froth of black fabric tucked over her arm.
As always, the sight of Helena barefoot and in his t-shirt sent a wash of heat through Dolf’s belly, tightening it and making his cock twitch. He was never going to not want her, and especially not in that shirt.
Taking advantage of his distraction – he definitely would have protested her going first if he had been in his right mind – Helena disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click.
Dolf stared at the closed door, chagrinned. In her wake, it seemed fairly obvious that he should have gone first. He was faster, after all. But at the time, that hadn’t even occurred to him. All he had been able to think about was how much he had wanted to run his legs up Helena’s bare legs.
The Wyvern's Defender Dire Wolf Page 19