“You expect me to sleep with you?” He took up half the bed, and I wasn’t even in it yet. I’d never had a pet, never slept with an animal, and he was getting fur all over everything. Was it too late to ask for the man back? “You aren’t serious.”
His tail thumped once.
I huffed as I pulled back the covers, flipping the light off as I went. I crawled into bed and grumbled as I settled in on the sliver of mattress he’d left for me. I lay there—stiff and not really comfortable at all as I wondered if wargs got ticks or fleas and if that’s why my skin suddenly itched—and had about decided to sleep on the floor when he rested his large head over my stomach, pinning me to the bed under its weight. He released a gusty sigh, licked his lips and didn’t move again.
Positive he was sleeping, I risked rubbing one of his ears through my fingers then stroked down his spine. His fur was a contrast of downy soft and coarse hairs, and petting him soothed me. I drifted to sleep with a hand fisted in his ruff, lulled by his warmth and the sound of his breathing.
Chapter 10
The bed was empty when I woke except for the hairs stuck to my sheets and clinging to my top. Unsure if I still had company, I fumbled my way into the kitchen and found Graeson seconds from cracking eggs I hadn’t bought into a skillet I didn’t own.
I rose on my tiptoes, arms reaching high overhead, fingertips almost brushing the ceiling. “Am I still dreaming?”
He turned in time to catch my yawn. “Do you often dream about men cooking you breakfast?”
The heat of his gaze traveled over my navel, exposed by my morning stretch session, and my skin tingled.
“No.” I inhaled on a blissful sigh. “This would be a first.”
“Good. I don’t like competition.” He used a knife—that one I did recognize—and slashed open a package of bacon. “So…” Voice calm, reasonable, he drew out the pause. “Do you dream of me outside of cooking you breakfast?”
“First of all, you’re the only person not related to me who’s ever cooked for me.” I went to the fridge and poured myself a glass of orange juice, but he stuck a mug smelling of chai in my hand, and my insides melted as the heat ebbed into my palm. “And secondly, I’m not about to admit to what happens when my eyes close.”
“So that’s a yes.” He sounded pleased.
“This must be a dream.” I sat on the bench and scooted close to the wall so I could rest my head against it. “It’s too surreal.”
A masculine chuckle overlaid the sizzle of bacon. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited Dell over.”
“Not at all.” Any minute now I would wake up and find myself alone in a cold bed instead of breathing in the warm scents of Graeson’s efforts. I wanted to enjoy this fantasy right up until my alarm blared. “As long as you keep doing what you’re doing.”
A clink of sound jolted me upright from my slouch as Graeson thunked down a plate in front of me. A mountain of home-style potatoes sizzled, all crispy and browned. My mouth watered, and my stomach gurgled loud enough to embarrass. I’d burned a lot of calories shifting last night, and I’d been too stunned and heartsick to replace any of them. If Graeson hadn’t stuffed me prior to my first challenge, I might not have woken until late afternoon or even tonight.
One thing was for sure. Until Graeson, I hadn’t realized what poor care I was taking of myself. Then again, until Charybdis brought us together, I hadn’t had much need for shifting or practicing self-defense that didn’t involve reflecting catty comments from temporary coworkers.
“If I’d known the way to your heart was through your stomach—” he picked a promising spud off the top and pressed it against my lips, “—I would have cooked for you sooner.”
I snagged the morsel with my teeth, and he growled appreciatively while I chewed. “Is all this for me?”
“Well,” he said on a laugh, “Dell is expecting food at breakfast. Maybe save her a bite?”
I ate a second potato and considered my answer. “How have you managed to stay single this long?”
“Easy. I didn’t settle.” The pan hissed and crackled as he flipped the crisping strips of bliss some called bacon. “I wanted to set a good example for Marie.”
“So you ascribe to the soul-mate theory.” Even to my own ears, I sounded flat.
“I don’t believe souls are split down the middle before they’re stuffed into our bodies, or that it’s our life’s goal to hunt down the missing half of ourselves, if that’s what you mean.” He tapped his tongs against the fryer. “I do believe that sometimes—whether it’s fate or accidental—we cross paths with someone who shatters us on a fundamental level and remakes us into a better version of ourselves.”
I ate another potato. “That sounds painful.”
“Love is a series of small hurts,” he agreed. “Even when everything goes right, your heart gets bruised.” Carrying a plate of bacon draining on a paper towel, he set it out of my reach. “Some people are worth it, some people are not, and I doubt any of that has anything to do with fate or divine intervention.”
“Dell said something similar to me once.” I darted out my hand and snagged a strip of perfectly cooked bacon before he could catch my wrist. “She doesn’t believe in fated mates either.”
“Dell is a progressive woman.” He rubbed his jaw. “It’s just as likely fated mates are a product of the very prejudices you and I are facing now. Most warg females have fertility issues when it comes to interbreeding. The result is few pureblood children being born, and those pure bloodlines being prized.”
“Ah.” I crunched thoughtfully. “You think fated mates are cautionary tales.” I could see that. “So if a male is in a relationship with a female who isn’t getting pregnant, he can ditch her in favor of another one and blame it on fate. Or vice versa, I suppose.”
“I’ve seen happy couples who’ve been together for years busted up by a male scenting a female in true heat and being unable to control himself. Same for females going through their cycle multiple times and failing to get pregnant. Males who already have a child—or multiple children—are a temptation some can’t resist. Those are rare scenarios.” He pointed his finger at me and pulled the trigger. “But fated mates are supposed to be rare, right?”
I leaned forward, fully engaged. “What about half-bloods?”
“It’s much easier for wargs to breed with humans. Those children have a fifty-fifty shot at being able to shift at puberty. You get a few cases of latent wolves several generations removed, but those are almost myth they’re so rare. Usually a child with less than half warg blood has no chance of shifting.” He shook his head. “It’s a hard choice, but with our species shrinking with each generation, it’s one being made more and more often. Half a chance is still half a chance more than what they had.”
“What about you?” I couldn’t resist asking. “Do you want kids?”
“I’m a dominant, which usually means a stronger, purer bloodline.” He kept it light, like it meant nothing. “I’ve got a good chance at having full-blooded kids.”
No wonder Becca was willing to have a go at me. A union with Graeson offered more than status, he represented the possibility of something far more precious. Babies. The future of the pack. Of their species.
Another thread of doubt wriggled through my mind, the fear I was standing between him and a thing he might want, an opportunity he might feel obligated to explore. Biological urges were strong, but his conscious needs and wants factored into his choice, right?
Plenty of people—fae and human—had children with partners they didn’t like or downright despised. Who benefited from those unions? The children growing up in divided households? Or worse, in homes where resentment polluted their every breath from infancy? The mothers with their dull eyes or fathers with the collar of duty strangling the life from them?
Instead of accepting his brush-off, I had to know. I told myself his answer would decide for me whether fighting for his hand like some twisted fairy tale was the right thin
g to do or if it was my own stubborn refusal to allow tradition to swallow him whole, but I wasn’t entirely convinced that was the truth. It was hard sitting in my kitchen eating the man’s bacon while denying the heat coiled in my belly wasn’t from the rendered pork but his proximity.
I chewed thoughtfully. “That’s not an answer.”
Fabric whispered as he slid into the booth opposite me, took my hands in his and linked our fingers. “What if I said I want blond-haired girls or boys with storm-cloud eyes that roll with thunder like their mother’s?”
Children who, if he got his wish, would bear an uncanny resemblance to me, and to the sister I had lost. Gemini birthed twins. Always. How painful would it be to look into the faces of my daughters and see Lori’s shadow? Would I be able to endure it? Could I view them as individuals, or would I only see her ghost and flee from the pain the way my mother and father had? Leaving Graeson, once again, to raise children on his own?
Honesty was the most I could offer. “I would say I don’t know if I can give that to you.”
His thumbs rolled over my knuckles. “I understand.”
And the worst part was, I knew he did. He had an uncanny way of reading me as though the pack bond was always strung between us. I wished I understood him half as well.
A couple of raps on the door announced Dell’s arrival. Graeson didn’t react, so I figured she had given a mental knock before the physical one.
“Come in,” I called, unable to stand because my fingers were meshed with an unmovable object’s.
“You guys look…tense.” She stalled out in the kitchen. “Should I come back later?”
“No.” Graeson stood and hauled me from the booth with him. “I was just leaving.”
“What about breakfast?” There was so much food, and he hadn’t eaten any of it. “You aren’t staying?”
“I can’t.” Using our linked hands, he tugged me closer and folded his arms behind him. Mine followed, linking my arms around his waist. “When are you leaving?”
“This afternoon. Isaac is driving us to the airport.” I wanted him back inside the safety of the wards before sundown. “Will I see you before I go?”
Graeson ducked his head, pressing his nose against the point where my neck met shoulder. A long, slow inhale lifted the hairs down my arms. He exhaled through his mouth, and his breath rippled down the front of my shirt, tightening my stomach.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, and I heard the lie.
I turned my face so our cheeks brushed, the stubble of his chin scoring me when he tilted his jaw. “Will I have to worry about another challenge before I leave?”
“No.” That one word rang with truth. “The pack will be otherwise occupied.”
I drew back to look into his face. “I don’t suppose you’ll enlighten me?”
“I don’t mean to break up this beautiful moment,” Dell said, scooting past me and closer to the bacon, “but it’s not as good once the grease congeals. You gotta eat this stuff hot.”
“She’s right. You should eat and pack.” His fingers slipped from mine, and after patting my arms to keep them in place, he cupped my face in his hands. “Learn all you can, but be careful.”
“We’ll talk when I get back.” My fingers wormed into his belt loops. “This woman, she might have some of the answers we need to pinpoint Charybdis’s next move. If I can figure out how—” My lips burned in silent warning, the blood oath at work. “All I’m saying is this is the best lead we’ve got. I’m keeping my fingers crossed she’s the key to figuring out where Charybdis might have gone to lick his wounds.”
Fresh worry creased his forehead. “I should be the one going with you.”
“You’ve got your hands busy here.” Cleaning up the mess I had helped create. “Don’t worry about it. I can handle this.”
“I know you can. I have faith in you.” A tight grin thinned his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I just wish you didn’t have to do it alone.”
Before I realized his intent, he ducked his head and captured my lips with his. The soft pressure vanished before his taste registered, before I could decide if I should yank him closer or bring my knee up between his legs. Somehow he stood across the trailer by the time my brain gained traction.
Graeson had kissed me. Kissed me. And it started the room spinning.
“Take care of her, Dell.” They shared a grim look that set my arms prickling. “Check in before you leave Kermit.”
With those enigmatic words, he exited the trailer. The resignation in his posture sent alarm bells clanging in my head. Dell caught me by the wrist before I turned the front doorknob. I hadn’t even realized I was following him on unsteady legs.
That kiss had clearly fried my brain. He was a grown warg. He could take care of himself for twenty-four hours, less than if we got lucky with our timing.
“Let him go.” She tugged me to the booth and pushed me back in my spot. “We need to eat and nail down our agenda. Cord will be fine.”
Despite her reassuring toast, made with my forgotten glass of orange juice, deep in my gut I didn’t believe her.
“I don’t get it.” Dell leaned forward in the passenger seat of the rental car we’d picked up after our flight dumped us near Kermit, Texas. Almost pressing her nose to the windshield, she squinted into the full darkness beyond the glass. “Are you sure your GPS isn’t busted?”
“Hmm?” I stopped drumming my fingers on the steering wheel.
“That’s a cow pasture, not a mental institution.”
I followed her line of sight to where a grandiose five-story structure rose from a manicured lawn, more country estate than sterile institution. Warmth glowed behind its elegant arched windows, and spotlights illuminated white stone statues and spiral topiaries scattered artfully across the grounds. Despite the late hour, a patient could stroll the sprawling garden even if they weren’t one of the nocturnal fae species.
“Don’t worry.” I had that covered. “We’re in the right place.”
“Are you okay?” She squeezed my forearm. “You looked like you were a million miles away.”
Villanow was closer to twelve hundred miles away from Kermit, but I wasn’t one for splitting hairs.
“I was just thinking.” About how Graeson never came back. He kissed me and vanished, and I got the queasiest sensation low in my gut when I thought about the finality of that moment. “Our contact should be here any minute now.”
Thierry was bringing a trusted friend along, and that woman would be responsible for getting us inside the facility.
Accepting my excuse with a raised eyebrow, Dell resumed staring ahead. “So how do you know we’re in the right place?”
“The conclave uses glamour to conceal its bases, buildings and properties.” Her blank stare prompted me to continue. “It’s illusionary magic. It makes one thing look like another. Some fae use personal glamour to hide their inhuman attributes so they can blend with humans. Others use terrestrial glamour to manipulate houses, buildings, property. Some of the more talented fae can make it feel real too, to a certain extent, but in most cases it doesn’t have to pass more than the look test. Terrestrial glamours tend to be used to hide things, meaning there are enchantments layered in the magic that push against the minds of anyone who gets too close. It says: Keep walking. There’s nothing to see here.”
“Huh.” She cocked her head. “It doesn’t fool you, though?”
“I have a knack for reading glamour.” It helped Geminis gauge the strength of a potential donor, as well as allowing us to see exactly what we were getting ourselves into by borrowing from a source. “With personal glamour, I have to touch it to read it, but terrestrial glamour is in the air. I can breathe it in, make contact that way, and unravel it.”
“You know all the cool tricks.”
“Shifting into a wolf is a pretty cool trick too.”
“Maybe. I guess.” She shrugged. “I’ve been a wolf, been raised with wolves, my whole life. Furred a
nd fanged is my normal.”
I caught myself worrying the pearl bracelet Harlow had given me and twisted in my seat. “Any word on the Garzas?”
“They aren’t returning my calls.” With her thumb and finger, she flicked the plastic notice warning passengers to wear seat belts. “Either they’re back and not ready for company or they’re still traveling and don’t want to be disturbed.”
Hearing they embraced technology was promising at least. “There’s no way to be sure?”
“Only if you want to piss them off.” She half-smiled. “Trust me. When they’re ready, they’ll let us know.”
Flashing headlights in the rearview mirror tugged my attention away from her. “We’ve got company.”
No cars had passed since we pulled off the side of the road to wait. That we saw motion now set my nerves chiming with anticipation. This could be it.
A sporty car, an eye-catching shade of light green even in the dark, grew larger as it neared, and at the last minute it swerved off the road and squealed to a stop behind us. I powered down my window and waited.
Two women sat in the car. The one with a hand clamped over her mouth like she might be carsick I recognized. The other woman rolled her eyes, stepped out of the car and set about smoothing her pantsuit.
Average height and wafer thin, she wore her expensive ensemble well. Her chestnut hair twisted in an elegant topknot on her head was held in place by lacquered chopsticks in a nod to her Asian ancestry. Her warm brown eyes sparkled as she watched Thierry climb from the car with a wobble in her step.
“My driving isn’t that bad,” the newcomer assured me, spinning her keys around her pointer. “Thierry is overly dramatic.”
“Let’s get this done. I need to organize a search party.” Thierry put a hand over her gut. “I think I left my stomach back there.”
Head Above Water (Gemini: A Black Dog #2) Page 11