Ava

by Michelle L De La Garza

Sadie slips between Keegan and the open door.

  “Don’t worry, Cole”—Sadie approaches the bed and places a hand on his shoulder “I’ll let you know if anything changes.” She pats his back. “By the way, there’s a fresh pot of coffee in the kitchen.”

  “He doesn’t need any of that shit.” Keegan steps out of the room. “What he needs is a damn shower and some fuckin’ sleep.”

  Reluctantly, I exit the room, knowing full well, I must follow the direct order of my alpha, whether I like it or not.

  Heading toward the kitchen, I think twice about stepping foot in there for more caffeine. Hell, the stuff already has my body buzzing. What I need is food, but that can wait.

  Arms overhead, I stretch. A whiff of sour, pungent body odor infiltrates myy nose.

  Keegan’s right, I do need a fucking shower.

  I make my way to the bathroom.

  In front of the mirror, I examine the lines of my face.

  Dark stubble covers the lower section of my jaw, but I’m not worried. I’ll shave it off in another day or two.

  Stripping off two-day-old clothing, I toss it into the bin, then step into the stall and turn on the showerhead.

  A blast of frigid water rains down on my body then slowly warms.

  Pressing my forearms against the tiled wall, I lay my head against the slick surface and let the spray of water stream over my shoulders and back.

  The tension in my upper body begins to fade away.

  Images of Ava’s face flow in and out of my thoughts.

  The kiss flickers through my mind’s eye.

  Her lips, soft and yielding, had welcomed my advances. She was sweet, alluring, that is until Tessa returned home.

  The memory of her growing arousal fills my senses, and the restless wolf inside stirs.

  I shake my head to clear my mind, but those long, sexy legs—and how she had wrapped them around my waist when sparing—invades my thoughts.

  “Shit.” The word rolls off my tongue. “Keegan’s right. I do have it bad.”

  I turn off the hot and let the cold water cascade down the length of my body. After several minutes, I shampoo my hair, lather up, and then rinse off.

  Stepping out of the shower stall, I grab a towel, dry off, and then wraps the fluff around my waist. I open the door, then head to my room.

  Once inside, I dress, then lay on the bed. But it doesn’t take long for images of Ava to flash through my thoughts, once again.

  Sighing, I rise and plod into the kitchen.

  The smell of Angus beef wafts in the air. The tantalizing aroma calls to the wolf within, and my stomach rumbles.

  Food. I haven’t eaten a real meal since all this started.

  “You hungry?” Ethan flips a steak over, smothering it in onions and bell pepper slices. “Have a seat. There’s more than enough.”

  Grabbing the pot from the warmer, I pour myself a cup of coffee, then make my way to the table.

  The legs of the chair scrap over the floor with a screech, then I sit.

  “Thought Keegan said no more coffee.” Ethan grins, then stirs the carnalized onions

  “I can’t sleep, so I might as well drink the stuff.” I take a sip, allowing the warmth to slide down. “And I’m going to be there when she wakes.”

  Ethan plates the steak, dumping browned onions and bell pepper on top of the rare piece of meat. “You want sides?”

  “Yeah. I’m hungry enough that I think I could eat a fucking side of beef.”

  I take another swig of the hot, steamy caffeinated goodness in the mug.

  Tracking Ethan’s movements, I watch him scoop up green beans, then set a baked potato with butter on the plate.

  “And as for the coffee goes, Keegan’s not here. And even if he were, I’d drink it anyway.”

  “Is that so?” Ethan sets the food on the table.

  “Damn, straight.”

  Ethan grabs another plate, serves himself, pulls up a chair, and then joins me at the table.

  “What about Sadie?” I shove a chunk of meat in my mouth.

  The seasoned juices run off into my mouth, sparking life into my taste buds.

  “She ate earlier. I was waiting to see if I could lure you out of the room and away from Ava with food.”

  “Yeah. Well, it worked. I’m here.” I chuckle under my breath. It’s the first real laugh I’ve had in two days. “Tell me something. How’d you know?”

  “Well, it wasn’t hard. You hadn’t eaten since breakfast.”

  “Not that. I’m not talking about the food, which is good, by the way.” I chew on another bite of the steak, savoring the buttery flavor. “How’d you know Sadie was the one?”

  “Man. One look at her and the wolf inside me knew before I did. The pull—the need to have her was intense.” Ethan takes a bite of his food. “Fuck. I was joking about biting her the first five minutes I met her. I’m lucky I didn’t scare her off. Hell, in all honesty, I wasn’t joking. A part of me, the wolf, wanted to mark her right then and there.” He holds my gaze. “Why? What’s up with Ava?”

  “I’ve been attracted to girls before, but this is different. Fuck. I can’t even sleep without her face filling my thoughts.” Sighing, I set the fork on the edge of the plate.

  “Yeah. You got it bad.”

  “But I turned her. What if she hates me for it when she wakes?”

  “Give it time, brother. That’s all you can do.”

  An ear-piercing scream rips through the house.

  I leap from my chair, run out of the kitchen, and then race across the living room with Ethan on my heels.

  Sadie, who is white as a ghost, stands in the doorway of the bedroom.

  “Do something. She’s freaking out.” Sadie’s voice quivers. “I think she’s hallucinating.”

  I motion for her to step out of the way. “Stay with Ethan.” Entering the room, heart pounding, I don’t know what I’ll find. Pressing the door to, I take in the surrounding area.

  The bed is empty. I scan the area. In the far corner, I spot her.

  Ava crouches in the dark, hair matted on one side with dried blood.

  Her wide eyes dart back and forth, skimming every square inch of the bedroom.

  “It’s okay.” I raise a hand. “Calm down,” I speaks as softly as I can. “You’re safe.”

  Damn. I wish Keegan and Agartha were here because I have no idea what the hell I’m doing, or what I should do.

  Knees to her chest, she grips the sides of her head, covering her ears.

  “It’s okay,” I say, barely above a whisper, trying to keep the volume of my voice low.

  When the beast first revealed itself, he enhanced all my senses. Every sound, vibration, and breath crept into my life, and I couldn’t control it at first, which was terrifying. Only difference, I knew it would happen.

  “I know it’s overwhelming—all the sounds—they’re amplified, but you will get used to it.” I approach her then kneels. “Do you know who I am?”

  Her eyes flutter open, and she nods her head.

  “Good.” I reach for her hand, and my fingers graze hers.

  She flinches, pressing her body deeper into the corner.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Hesitantly, she takes my hand, and I coax her up and onto her feet.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Her hands shake. “I don’t feel right. I’m different, somehow.”

  “Nothing’s wrong with you. But you’re right, you are different.”

  “What?” Confusion etches her features.

  “You’re lycan, now.”

  “Lycan?” Ava draws in a deep breath then swallows hard. “You mean like a werewolf?” She stares back at me wide-eyed.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick.” She pulls free of my grasp and staggers to a small trashcan in the room.

  Falling to her knees, she empties the bile remaining in her stomach.

  I kneel beside her, ignoring the sour
aroma. Reaching out, I hesitantly places a hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s happening to me?” Tears fill her eyes. “The thing that attacked me, am I like it? Oh, God, I’m a freak, a monster.” She shakes her head. “What if I hurt people? I don’t want to hurt anyone.” She swallows hard.

  I brushe the hair off her shoulder. “You’re not a monster, Ava. You’re not like them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because they choose to be that way. It’s not like what you see in the movies. You are part wolf and part human now, but you’re not a freak or a monster. Look at me.” I cup the sides of her face. “Tell me what you smell?”

  “Meat.” Ava’s voice cracks. “Beef.” Salivating, she licks her lips. “And you—”

  “What about me?” My chest tightens.

  She draws in another deep breath. “I smell you.” Her cheeks redden, and she turns away.

  “Don’t be embarrassed.” I pick up traces of her confusion, fear, and lust. “What you’re experiencing is normal. Your inner wolf has heightened all of your senses.”

  Slowly, I draw her forward, coaxing her into my arms.

  “Are you like me?” She pushes me back and holds my gaze.

  “To a degree. But, I’m a pure lupine. I was born a shape shifter. Some call us Skinwalkers. I’m a member of the Shoshone clan, which you’re now part of.”

  “Oow. My head.” She rubs her eyes. “I can’t focus. What’d you say I was?”

  “You’re a lycan, a werewolf, which means you were bitten and turned.” I stroke her arm. “What do you remember?”

  “Only flashes. Bits and pieces.” Her body shudders.

  I draw her into a tender embrace, relishing the feel of her body against mine.

  “Wait. You said I was bitten. T-that’s how I was turned.”

  A sob escapes her lips, and she trembles in my arms.

  “Who bit me?” Tears stream down her face. “Was it you?”

  “Ava. I—”

  She shoves me, not realizing her new-found strength, sending me stumbling back a few steps. “Did you do this to me?”

  Chapter 10

  Ava Johansson

  TWO WEEKS, FOURTEEN DAYS, three hundred and thirty-six hours. Approximately, twenty thousand, one-hundred and sixty minutes has passed since my father’s death. That’s all it’s been. Now, Tessa and I are truly alone.

  My eyes water, and I blink back the stem of tears because crying won’t bring him back.

  A flood of thoughts swirls around, and I drift to a memory of my childhood.

  Playing in my father’s office and find a brown leather book inside one of the small openings on the side of his desk along with a handful of others. I flip through the pages, reading the writing.

  Back then, I thought they were make-believe stories my father had made up. Things he didn’t want to share with anyone because they were his private thoughts, his escape from the world, so I had kept his journals a secret.

  But over the years, I had continued to read the stories thinking it was fictionalized content, sometimes based on actual life experiences with a supernatural twist. His journals became my connect to him—to the feelings he kept hidden from the world, from me and Tessa.

  Several of the town’s people’s names were in the brown books, but there were also names unknown. Never once did I entertain the idea that the content was a hundred percent real, factual. But it all makes sense now in a morbid kind of way.

  Benjamin Johansson, Watcher and father.

  Yeah. Pops, you sure knew how to keep tabs on Kensington Cove and its people.

  The world around me is strange, foreign now, which makes me feel so alone.

  Over the past few weeks, there’d been days I had wanted to tell Tessa the truth. To explain to her what had really happened at the studio the night Pops died—when and how he was murdered in cold blood.

  Would it make a difference if she knew who or what had killed him? Would it make it any easier on both her and Tessa if she knew what had occurred? And what if Tessa was to learn Ben wasn’t her real father? Or that her sister is now a lycan now? How would she react? What would she do or say?

  I’m different now, on the inside, but when I look in the mirror, the same face stares back.

  Keegan, the Alpha of the Shoshone clan, my clan, now, said the adjustment went smoothly—whatever the hell that means.

  Clans. The word seems so empty and lonely at times.

  From what he had said, four distinct clans live in Kensington Cove, and that doesn’t even include the covens.

  Witches. Warlocks. Septons. Hell, the town is full of them—supernaturals, or supers as he refers to them.

  “Yeah, right. Normal my ass.”

  Keegan and I have a different understanding or definition of the word.

  It’s not as if this thing happens all the time. Or hell, maybe it does in Kensington Cove, Texas. Who knows—fuck if I do? I don’t know a damn thing.

  But, in all rationality, how smooth can something like this really go?

  To wake from the brink of death only to learn a secret culture of lupines and Wiccans run rampant, and that there are things in this world like shape shifters. Man, it boggles the mind.

  Well, let me be the first to say, the words crowd together in my mind. It is a hard reality to swallow.

  “You look deep in thought.” Cole enters the living room.

  I draw my feet onto the couch and hugs them to my chest. “Just thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Everything.” I sigh. “You asked me, the day I woke, if I was mad at you. Do you remember?”

  “Yeah. And you didn’t answer.” Cole runs a hand through his hair. “Are you? Mad that is?”

  “I thought I was, at first. But now that I’ve had time to think about it, to process everything, I’m not. And I’m not sorry you did it.” I pat the cushion next to me. “Pop a squat.”

  Cole makes his way to the couch then sits on the other end.

  “Closer.” I shake my head, then rolls my eyes. “I don’t bite.”

  The comment, purely innocent in nature, now carries a different undertone because now, I don’t know if I bite or not.

  Rising, Cole stands then walks over to where I’m sitting.

  Taking hold of his hand, I pull him on to the cushion next to me.

  “I’ve had a lot of time on my hands these past two weeks. And I’ve learned a lot about myself, my family, and who they really were. Things I would’ve never known if it weren’t for what you did.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, I breathe in his scent: a woody musk aroma with a hint of vanilla and orange spice. Even a trace of his breakfast; eggs, bacon, and strawberry jam, registers, making my taste buds salivate.

  How the hell do people get use to this? I wipe drool from my lips, hoping he can’t see it.

  “You gave me a second chance to live. And now, I have the opportunity to follow in my father’s footsteps, recording the history of lupines and Wiccans. Well, at least, until the other Watchers find out what I am.”

  He remains silent and as still as a marble statue in a museum.

  I run the tips of my fingers along the line of his jaw then stop at the curve of his bottom lip.

  The sensation of touch, now enhanced, as well, makes me acutely aware of how near his frame sets in conjunction with mine—not to mention the warmth he emanates.

  My flesh and blood David, the thought makes me chuckle inside. The sculptor—no doubt—would turn in his grave at that cheesy comment.

  “But who the hell do they think they are? Who are they to say that I can’t be a Watcher like my father, and my ancestors before him? Just because I’m lycan doesn’t mean I'm biased, right?”

  I draw in another deep breath, then lick my lips. A small chuckle escapes my mouth.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head.

  “No. Tell me.” He holds my gaze.

  His eyes burn brigh
t with curiosity, as well as something else, uncertainty.

  I nudge his arm with an elbow, then whisper, “I can smell you, your arousal when you’re around me.”

  “Can you now?” A single eyebrow arches, giving rise to a serious face.

  “Yep.” My cheeks redden.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Yeah.” An uneasiness settles in his eyes. “Ask away.”

  “Why are you avoiding me? Have I done something wrong?” I cast my gaze away from his, then draws my legs underneath me.

  “No.” He cups my chin, tipping her head back. “Not at all.”

  “Have I offended you in some way?”

  “God, no. I’ve been trying to give you space—to allow you room to think and figure out what it is you want. I didn’t want to crowd you—still don’t.”

  Lean against his body, I press my lips to his cheek, and revel in the texture of his flesh. “I’ve had all the time and space I need. And for the record, I do know what I want.”

  I loop my arms around his neck, then laces my fingers through his hair.

  “And just so you know, the kiss”—I chew on my lower lip and focus on keeping my nerves in check—“it was nice.”

  “It was.” He draws back. “Until you turned hostile.”

  “I’m sorry about that.” I stroke the shaved hairline at the nape of his neck. “I thought you and Tessa were—”

  “I’d never cheat on anyone . . . Tessa or you . . . Just for the record”—he pauses, caressing the skin directly under my bottom lip—“me and your sister, we’re just friends. She’s like a sister to me.”

  “And me?”

  “What about you?” A slight curl tugs at one corner of his mouth.

  “How do you see me?” Tension builds in the pit of my belly.

  From her first day home in Kensington Cove to now, he’s been there for me.

  Granted, I didn’t always see it that way—it felt more like he was a stray that had latched on and followed me to the doorstep, literally.

  But if I’m being honest, he’s gone out of his way to make me feel welcome, and since the attack, his presence has made me feel safer. And then there’s these crazy feelings for him, which are confusing most of the time—Hell, I don’t know if wants to kiss him or knock him on his ass.