Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1)

by Martina McAtee

  Kai’s eyes fluttered closed, as Rhys set to work rubbing his face against his throat and along the edge of his jaw. Kai snorted, the jerk was scenting him again. He licked his lower lip, body taut as Rhys’ tongue traced the corded tendon of his throat. Kai moaned, head dropping to the side thoughtlessly. That was new.

  Rhys growled low and guttural, teeth sinking into Kai’s neck, accepting Kai’s submission with enthusiasm. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to submit to a wolf, but Kai’s body responded much differently this time, jerking forward in a way that made them both groan. Rhys let go of Kai’s throat, soothing the spot with his tongue before dropping his forehead to Kai’s.

  Kai kept his eyes shut, listening to the sound of their panting, not ready to break the spell. When he realized nothing more was happening, he finally looked, only to find Rhys’ human eyes searching his face for…something.

  “What?” Kai whispered, imploringly.

  His eyes dipped to Kai’s mouth. “You make me crazy,” Rhys whispered, then warm lips grazed his once, twice, hesitant, like he thought Kai would push him away. Kai buried his hands in Rhys’ hair, pressing their mouths together firmly.

  Rhys’ hands slid around his waist, fingers playing at the skin under his t-shirt and above the waist of his jeans. Kai melted against him. It was then he realized his mistake, letting himself have this. Kissing Rhys in his fantasies was always perfection. He kissed him in a million different ways and a thousand different situations each of them amazing in their own way but so very two dimensional, just moving pictures running through his overactive imagination.

  Now, he knew what Rhys’s lips tasted like, how it felt to cup his face in his hands and feel the scraping of stubble along his palms. He could smell him, taste him, feel him and, fuck, if it wasn’t better than anything he’d ever dreamed in his fantasies.

  Rhys’ tongue slipped into his mouth and his higher thought process shut down, leaving only thoughts like yes, please, finally and mine. Kai was screwed. He was a domesticated animal who’d just had his first taste of human flesh and now nothing else would ever do. Rhys was it for him.

  Kai tried to catalogue every single sense. The way he could feel Rhys’ claws pricking the flesh at his hips, the sound of their lips meeting, the way Rhys groaned when Kai bit his lower lip. Every time Rhys pulled back, Kai’s lips followed like a magnet, pulling them back together. He wasn’t ready for it to be over, not yet. And it would be over as soon as they left this place. He’d won this battle but Rhys wasn’t surrendering the war.

  “Really?”

  Rhys jumped back, shoving him away at Tristin’s indignant shriek.

  In that moment, he hated his sister. She had the worst timing of anybody ever. She looked at the two of them like a disappointed mother. He looked over at Rhys’ guilty expression, taking in kiss swollen lips, heavy lidded eyes and messy hair. He must look even worse. Kai couldn’t help but be a little smug. He’d done that.

  “We’ve been sitting in the hot car for twenty minutes so you two can make out in the woods?”

  Rhys blushed, snatching the keys from where they’d fallen and stomping off towards the truck.

  Tristin crossed her arms, tilting her head, “Well?”

  Kai widened his eyes at his sister, “What?”

  “What?” She laughed, saying, “I love you, Bro, but I’m not going to hang out in the car staring at Quinn while you lose your virginity against a tree.”

  Kai glared, “You’re a real class act, Sis.”

  She smiled, fluttering her lashes, “I’m not the one dry humping my boyfriend on the side of the interstate.”

  Kai’s face burned. “Shut up,” he said, body checking her gently as he walked past.

  “Whatever you say, Romeo.”

  40

  TRISTIN

  Tristen and Kai walked back to the car in silence. She was surprised to find the keys in the ignition and Rhys cramped into the backseat with a very confused Quinn. Kai yanked open the passenger seat, leaving her to drive. Rhys quickly backslid to his default setting of non-verbal cave wolf.

  She’d endured a lot of awkward car rides with her brother and Rhys over the years but none compared to this. Not even music could dull the tension in the car. Kai alternated between texting Quinn and staring desolately out the window. Quinn stayed quiet, giving Rhys plenty of room. Tristin knew the exact moment Kai told Quinn what happened because Quinn made a noise like a dying cat, staring wide eyed at Rhys until the wolf growled at him.

  Tristin had never been so happy to be home in her life. She wanted to fall to her knees and kiss the ground. Once inside, Kai stormed up the stairs. She flinched as his door slammed hard enough to rattle the frame. For once, she got his need to be dramatic. The house was too quiet with the others at work or school. She followed Rhys into the kitchen, watching as his large form crumpled onto the bench of the breakfast nook, rubbing his eyes and sighing.

  She snatched a bottled water from the fridge, leaning against the counter as she drank, contemplating her next move. She finished half the bottle before she stalked up to him and punched him on the arm hard enough to make her hand throb. His eyes widened in shock.

  She shoved him so he moved over and she sat down, “You know I love you right?” His face flushed and he nodded once.

  “Good, because you’re not going to like what I have to say,” He looked at her warily.

  “Stop dicking around with my brother’s head.”

  He looked like he was choking on his tongue, “I-”

  “Just listen. I get it. I know you and I don’t really understand and all of this touchy feely stuff. The emotional stuff squicks me out too.” She looked him in the eye, “But you’ve been tying my brother in knots, literally since the day he was old enough to realize he liked boys. Why are you fighting this so hard? You have to see you are tearing him apart. What are you so afraid of?”

  He looked conflicted, like he was just on the verge of saying…something. But then it was gone, eyes blank as he shrugged, “What’s the point?”

  Tristin squinted at him, “What’s the point of what? Being in love? Being with somebody? Dating?”

  He didn’t look at her.

  She opened her mouth to tell him what the point was but realized she didn’t know, really. The idea of being so dependent on somebody seemed horrible to her. She saw the way Isa looked at Wren, like he was the air she breathed. Isa would never survive if something happened to him. Why would anybody want to be so entwined with another person you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began?

  But she certainly wasn’t telling Rhys that.

  She sighed, “The point is to be somebody’s person. To be there for them. To make sure when crap gets real, you have their back and vice versa. People have been falling in love since the dawn of time, like people die for it and write poems about it, there has to be a reason. My brother wants you to be his person.”

  “Like Quinn wants you?” he countered.

  Tristin’s mouth tightened, “That’s different.”

  Rhys huffed, “Really? Why? He’s definitely your person. He’d do anything for you. He probably writes weepy sonnets about you in a dream journal tucked under his pillow. He reeks of love whenever you are in the room. You certainly don’t have a problem taking advantage of his feelings for you when you need something.” Tristin’s mouth fell open as Rhys continued, “You know, since we’re being honest.”

  This was not how this conversation was going to go. She just wanted him to see what he was doing to her brother. She wanted him to understand what he was doing to himself. This had nothing to do with her or Quinn.

  She set her mouth in a hard line, glaring at the wolf. Quinn was a good person, one of the few pure souls she knew. He was smart and funny and attractive in a way she tried hard not to think about. Thinking about Quinn was messy and distracting. She cou
ldn’t afford any distractions.

  She was seventeen. She was fighting monsters and studying for SAT’s. Maybe someday there would be room for Quinn, but it wasn’t now, “Quinn is human. Falling in love with a human is stupid and dangerous. Just ask my dad…or yours.”

  He looked at her, eyebrow raised. “That’s a pretty cynical view even for you. Also, you’re full of crap.”

  “Maybe, but it’s true. Humans are defenseless in this town. Like baby bunnies.”

  Rhys snorted, “Quinn is clumsy and spastic, but he’s no baby bunny. In fact, he might be the only thing in the world I’ve actually seen scare you.”

  Her eyes widened, heartbeat stumbling. Rhys looked smug. She narrowed her eyes and slapped his shoulder again. “This isn’t about me and Quinn. This is about you and my brother. I don’t get why you are fighting it so hard. Everybody knows you are in love with him. Nobody hates anybody as much as you two pretend too without secretly wanting to…mate,” she smirked at him, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

  His eyes flicked to hers and then back to his hands. His jaw muscle twitched. “Even if I do have…feelings,” he swallowed hard around the word like it stuck in his throat. “Everybody seems to be forgetting something extremely important.”

  “Such as?”

  “My fiancé?”

  Tristin laughed, “Oh my God, you are such a drama queen. She is not your fiancé. You’ve never even met her. You’ve never even spoken to her. You were betrothed before you were even born. It’s an antiquated tradition. Nobody is going to hold you to that.”

  “Isa honored her betrothal to Wren,” he told her.

  “One, your sister is an alpha and it’s her job to expand the pack. Two, she’s marrying Wren because they are gaga for each other and you know it. She’d never marry Wren if she didn’t love him. That’s not who she is and she wouldn’t expect you to either.”

  Rhys looked at her imploringly, “Marrying a wolf from the Clearweather pack will solidify our alliances in Oregon, Alabama and Tennessee. It’s what’s best for the pack.”

  “Look, I’m sure this girl-”

  “Selina.”

  “Selina,” she continued, “is a very nice girl. She probably doesn’t want to marry somebody who doesn’t love her. Pack alliances were for a hundred years ago when werewolf hunting was rampant. It’s been a long time since we’ve had any real threat from the hunters. Most humans don’t even know we exist anymore. Even the Grove doesn’t get involved in pack mating disputes. Have you talked to your sister about this?”

  “No,” he told her, “and I’m not going to. If my sister can honor her commitments, I can too.”

  She made a noise of frustration, feeling a sudden need to rip his face off. “Fine, be a stubborn ass but let me make this very clear,” she turned so she could look him in the eye. She wanted him to know she meant this with every ounce of her being, “I love you like my family. I really do. But if you don’t stop hurting my brother I’m going to lace your toilet paper with aconite.”

  His eyes bulged, jaw falling open. “Wow, calm down, crazy.”

  “I’m going to get ready for work. You should probably do the same.” She stood, heading to the back stairs, “You should probably also try to sneak in a quick shower. I can smell my brother all over you even without the super werewolf sniffer. Your sister will definitely smell it and if you think I’m angry, think about how much Isa loves Kai?”

  His face paled and he looked a little sick. She couldn’t help her smile as she ran up the stairs. The idea of lacing his toilet paper with aconite, more commonly known as wolfsbane, was her best idea yet. It was a wonderful weapon really. It wouldn’t kill him unless he ingested it but it would give him a rash that made poison ivy seem like a daydream.

  She met Quinn at the top of the stairs coming out of her brother’s room.

  “How is he?” she asked.

  He pulled a face, “Not sure. He is staring at the wall and every now and again he mumbles something like ‘whatever, screw him,’ and then goes back to staring. How was your conversation with Rhys?”

  “He brought up his fiancé.”

  Quinn burst out laughing, pulling it together when he realized she wasn’t kidding, “Wait, seriously?”

  “Yep.”

  “There is no hope for him. He is so desperate to be a martyr we should just change his name to Joan of Arc.”

  Tristin couldn’t help but laugh. Rhys really did seem desperate to be miserable. He needed a therapist.

  Quinn shifted from one foot to the other, “Come find me when you get back from work. No matter what time it is. Okay?”

  Tristin went cold, eyeing him warily, “Why? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I just want to talk but we don’t have time to talk now. So…later, yeah?”

  He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and scuffed his shoe across the hard wood floor. It was never a good sign when he couldn’t look her in the eye.

  “You are lying but I don’t have time to pry it out of you so…sure, we will talk later. Now I have to go get ready for work so that I can spend all night worrying about whatever it is you want to tell me but can’t tell me in fifteen minutes. Thanks for that.”

  “Dagger.”

  “Save it. I’m over the men in this house today. Do you hear me?” She shouted loud enough for her brother and Rhys to hear, “I’m done with all of you.”

  41

  MACE

  In the harsh morning light things seemed much different. He had no idea why he’d chosen to be so honest with her. Maybe this bond with her had even more effect than he’d first believed. With Ember curled up against him, he’d let himself believe his honesty was a ploy to further his own agenda.

  He’d told himself, she needed to trust him for this plan to work and telling her not to trust him or others seemed like the perfect way to make her see he was on her side. Besides, it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant way to spend an evening, if he didn’t dwell on the way her body fit against his or how her hair smelled like lemons. Now it just seemed like an incredibly stupid move on his part and he didn’t make stupid moves.

  He knew she’d felt the difference, too. As the sun broke through the tree line, she’d stiffened, pulling away from him and lurching to her feet. Her hair was a mess, eyes bleary. She’d mumbled something about needing to get in the shower and called the mutt to follow. Their parting of ways felt less like progress and more like the end of the world’s most awkward first date.

  Now, he stared at the back of her head, fixated on the plastic contraption confining all but the few errant strands of her hair hiding her birthmark. His fingers itched to touch it. He hadn’t been lying when he told her he couldn’t love her. Yet, he was feeling things. It had to be the magic, this invisible noose he’d wrapped around his own throat. There was no other explanation. Her magic was merging with his, somehow making him feel things he didn’t; making him say things he shouldn’t. It was the only possible explanation.

  At the front of the room, Ember’s uncle was scribbling out their French homework on the board covering for the Madam Krug without explanation. It had been hours and Ember had barely spoken to him. They’d shared several classes and lunch and the only time she’d spoken to him was when her pen ran out of ink.

  Now she was covertly tapping out a text to somebody on her phone. Probably the boy reaper, they were quite chummy. She most likely wanted to know if they had delivered her message. She seemed oblivious to the way her uncle repeatedly looked to her, as if hoping to make eye contact. She also missed the way the witch-Stella, he thought-stared, eyes narrow, jaw clenched. It seemed hostile for a person he’d never seen interact with Ember.

  Mace pulled his phone from his pocket.

  What did you do to piss off Snow White over there?

  Ember’s head shot up, the other girl didn’t e
ven have the decency to look embarrassed. She gave Ember one last snotty look before turning towards Ember’s uncle, red lips bleeding into a smile. Alex smiled back and the girl tapped her pen against her lips in a way Mace found…inappropriate.

  She appears to have a crush on our teacher? Don’t you think?

  Don’t know. Don’t care.

  Her uncle looked up, catching her eye and smiling, “Ember, you want to take a stab at answering this one?”

  Ember panicked, phone clattering against her desk, “Um, sorry, no. Maybe next time?”

  A few students snickered. Ember seemed to have all the witches’ attention now, not just Stella’s. The three students the group referred to as ‘the triplets’ were now watching Ember with unwavering interest, especially the girl, Lola.

  “Put the phone away, Ember or I’ll have to take if from you.”

  She nodded, sliding it to her lap but not putting it into the pack at her feet.

  You seem to be garnering quite a bit of attention from the witches, Luv. Careful.

  Ember’s eyes dropped to the screen for a moment before returning to the board. His phone vibrated against his thigh.

  Tristin says the triplets are part of my uncle’s pack…coven, whatever but I think Stella just hates reapers.

  You should make nice with your uncle. He could be useful. If the Grove comes, you may find you need as many allies as possible to stand for you.

  I’ll take my chances.

  Will you be so cavalier about your cousins’ chances? They may face repercussions from the Grove as well.

  Low blow. It’s hard to worry about this Grove everybody talks about when literally nobody has ever seen them. Did you ever consider they are just the boogeymen the witches use to keep people in line?