by Mark Henwick
I hid my face against his neck. Make believe just a little longer.
“You going shy on me, hot stuff?” His words vibrated through my chest.
“Sorry,” I muttered. So cool. “Stupid. I was going to bite you just then.”
“Yeah, and? Knock yourself out, vamp. If you get a bit carried away, I’ll let you know.” The amused tenderness in his voice made me look up. Bad idea. The wolf still lingered in his eyes, and my heart missed a beat.
“Alex…”
He caught the tone and looked puzzled.
Crap. Here goes nothing.
“You remember you said Were and Athanate don’t cross-infuse?”
“Yeah. That’s right, they don’t.”
“Turns out that’s not the case for me.”
“Eh?”
I pushed away a little. “I…my marque’s changed. Diana said I’ve picked up a bit of Were. I’m sorry, I should have said.”
“Not possible.” He frowned.
“Use your damned nose, you stupid wolf,” I snapped, angry at myself. I was the one who’d been stupid. And now irresponsible.
He did use his nose, pulling me back tightly against him and pressing his face against my neck. My heart stuttered and I pushed him away again. I didn’t trust myself.
His eyes cleared and lit up. “Oh, yes. Damn. You have.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered again.
His brow creased. I managed to stop myself from stroking it smooth. “What are you sorry about?” he said. “This is awesome. Weird, I’ll give you that, but fantastic.”
“Alex, think. If you’re changing my marque, what am I doing to yours?”
“Shit.”
I saw the realization hit him, and braced myself for his anger. But when it came, his response wasn’t what I thought he’d say.
“How has this gone down with Altau? What can I do to help?”
“Not well, but I’m okay for the moment, I think. That’s not the point, Alex. I’m just a side issue for Altau. You’re a full pack member. What’s the pack going to do?”
“Hold on, Amber. We don’t know that anything’s happened to my pack marque. I mean, can you tell?”
“No,” I said. “But I’ve got nothing to check it against.”
“Okay, let’s think this through. You’re new Athanate, I’ve been Were for a while. Whatever happened, it’s so unusual no one’s ever heard of it. It’d be double that for it to happen both ways.”
He was trying to convince me, but he wasn’t sure himself.
“Unless I’m the unusual thing,” I said. “You’ve got to admit, I’m already there.”
“Yeah.”
He pulled me back in again and I didn’t move to get away this time. It was strange. I’d relied on people in the army—it goes with the job, you have to. Then I’d come out and learned to rely on nobody. And suddenly, I was wanting to be able to rely on someone again, to have him on my side.
“You’re not mad at me?” I grimaced. I was sounding like a freaking fifteen-year-old.
“What? No.”
“But it would be a big deal with the pack?”
He snorted. “If you have the pack marque, you’re in, and if you don’t, you’re not. I’ve heard of people moving between packs, and your marque has to change when you do that. Being in Denver with a different marque? Yeah, that would be a problem for us.”
That little word carried such a lot of thoughts behind it, good and bad. The pack wouldn’t like me being partly Were and in their territory. Maybe the same for Alex with Altau. But ‘us’ also implied we’d face it together.
And together for me involved kin. If Alex became a little bit Athanate, would that make it easier for him to understand kin?
Suddenly uncomfortable, I slithered off him and buried my face in the pillows, trying to think how to put it all into words.
He rolled on top of me, trapping me, and started to kiss my back, working up my shoulders to my neck. All those bright, smart words spilled right out of my head.
His kisses reached my ear and my heart started doing double time. One hand made lazy patterns on my back and the other slid beneath me. I snagged it, dragged it back out.
“Stop,” I whispered, mouth and body heading off in different directions again. I kissed the inside of his wrist.
Wasted on a man, Tara said. Try that on Jen, she’ll love it.
“Shut up,” I whispered, but his wolfy hearing was too good.
“Talking to yourself?”
“No,” I said, fighting my way out and twisting around to face him. “That would be crazy. No, I’m talking to Tara. She lives in my head.”
He grinned and bent his head to plant a single kiss on my neck. “What did she say?”
I took a deep breath. “She says I have to tell you about kin and blood and everything,” I blurted out.
“Hmm.” He kissed the other side of my neck. “Everything will take a long time. This Tara is a smart girl.”
“Stop it.” I held him away from me desperately. “Look, all this ‘us’—what if this is just temporary?” He looked angry at that, but I plowed on. “New Athanate, dizzy with hormones, burning it out with a Were. Right?”
His eyes were gold again, inches from mine, and not happy.
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was. “I didn’t mean that like it sounded. It’s not you. It’s me. I’m the one with the hidden agenda.”
“And that is?”
“I’m looking for kin, Alex.” Go on—say it. Say it. “People to feed off.” I tried to hide my face in shame.
“You really don’t understand it yet.” He was chuckling, like a big diesel truck engine idling, lump, lump, lump. I would have hit him if I could have wriggled out from beneath him. That’s probably why he didn’t let me.
“You’ve just paid me the ultimate Athanate compliment,” he said. Lump, lump, lump.
I glared at him. “So, I’m Athanate now. What happened to ‘vamp?’”
“I only call you vamp to yank your chain.” He eased to one side, then the other, letting me get my arms out. I decided against hitting him, for the moment. It was either lie there with my arms flat, like the classroom resuscitation dummy, or put them around him. I put them around him. It felt far too good.
He went back to kissing my neck. “I don’t even know if I qualify for kin, but when an Athanate says kin, they don’t mean letting off a bit of steam, having just a physical thing.”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what?”
“It’s not like it’s exclusive, Alex. You want something one to one, don’t you? Forget about us just for a second. Just theoretically, okay, a couple of weeks ago, maybe you were thinking where’s the one girl that’s right for me. One guy, one girl. That can’t be me.”
“Why?”
“Because kin is plural,” I said, exasperated.
“Hmm,” he said, completely unsurprised. “So, who else are we talking about?”
“Jen,” I muttered. “Jennifer Kingslund.”
His chuckling paused, but his kisses didn’t, damn him. “And what does she think of being kin?” he asked between kisses. “Alongside me?”
“I can’t tell her anything till after the...till after the weekend. Mucho Athanate secrets.” I huffed. “She’ll probably walk anyway.”
“Maybe.” My head was tilted back, all the better to offer him my neck, damn him again, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “Have you and she...”
“No! I can’t even think of it until she knows what she’s getting into. Maybe even not then, until I know I can control myself and not turn her. And I could be misreading it all.”
My heart skipped another beat at the memory of Jen’s kisses on my neck, her voice whispering, I’m good at this. No, I hadn’t misread it at all.
He laughed. “I don’t think so. Kingslund’s not one to leave you in the dark about how she feels.”
I pulled his head back from my neck and stared at him. There could
be one obvious reason he knew her so well.
“Oh no,” he said. “Not me. Look.” He kissed my forehead. “I understand kin, I understand Athanate, sort of. I don’t know if my blood will be what you need. I don’t know if I’ll be suitable for kin, but you want to bite me, go right ahead. I’m a big strong wolf and we heal even quicker than Athanate.” He took a deep breath. “And if we are cross-infusing and I’m becoming part Athanate, then the sooner we learn how that will balance out, the better.”
“And to hell with the pack?”
“No, not exactly, but we’ll work something out.”
“And Altau?”
“Same thing, and I’ll be there for you.”
“Why are you there for me?” God, I hated the way I sounded sometimes. So damn needy. But I might as well get it out of the way. “Why not the girl in the photo in your living room?”
“Because she’s dead and you’re not,” he snapped. He took a deep breath. “Because you’re damn hot. Because I really, really like you when you aren’t trying to think your way up your own backside.”
Ouch.
I could handle really like. And I’m not beautiful, but I could take him calling me hot. It said in the constitution that he was entitled to an opinion. And yes, I was thinking about it too much. I felt a little seed of hope start to push its head above the ground.
Lying there, pinned beneath him, my body was trying to convince me everything would be fine. Better than fine.
Hmm. It was probably a bit soon for him, but I was ready to roll again.
“Are there really no other girls in Denver that are hot?” I teased as I trailed my fingers down his flanks.
He snorted. “Yeah, there are plenty of girls in Denver. Some of them are pretty, and some of those might be interested in me, and a few of those might be physically up to it and maybe a couple of those might be willing to risk becoming a werewolf. But they’re not hot.” He frowned in concentration. “I don’t know. Maybe I should get out more. Where would you recommend I go to meet hot, tough, pretty girls?”
“Domina’s on 8th Avenue,” I said, straight-faced.
“Like I’d have any chance there.” We laughed and he squinted at me. “How come you know about Domina’s?”
“It’s not exactly a state secret, Alex. And no, I’ve never been. What about girls in your pack?”
“Shit, no! All right for some, but it feels incestuous to me. No thank you.” He looked down at me, amusement and exasperation in his face. “So…did I pass?”
I hit him. Gently. And began to lick the side of his neck.
A cell beeped and we both jumped.
“It’s not mine this time,” I crowed. If it was his turn to get called away, I was going to be as cool as he had been yesterday.
He was getting called away. I could see it as soon as he saw the caller ID. He sat up in a hurry and started talking about problems with deliveries in Salt Lake. From his side of the conversation, I could hear him mentally gearing up to go and fix the problem.
I opened his closet and looked at his work clothes. What would he look good in, apart from anything or nothing? I pulled out some alternatives and laid them on the bed. I picked out some brogues from the shoe rack that would go well. I’d leave him to choose his boxers and socks. I’m not the controlling sort, much.
I wandered into his master bathroom and got in the shower. A minute later, he joined me.
“Here less than a morning and you’re telling me what to wear,” he complained as I soaped him up with my body.
“Uh-huh.” Much more of this and he was going to be delayed. I stretched up for a kiss, but it was disappointingly brief.
“We gotta talk.”
“Hmm. Yeah, I know your idea of talk.” I smirked and grabbed his butt.
“No, seriously, Amber.” His hands stopped roving and just held me. “You’re going to think I’m crazy—”
I laughed. “I’m the bag lady who talks to people inside her head and I’m going to think you’re crazy? Wow.”
“Yes, you are. There’s not enough time to explain it now. I’ll be back on Thursday and we need you to meet with the pack as soon as possible. There’s a file out on the table in the living room. Read it. Call me. It may be just what we need to divert attention from this stuff about changing marques.”
“Okay. You have a date. I needed to talk to the alpha anyway.”
“Huh? Why?” he asked, shutting the water off.
“It’s complicated,” I said. “We’ll talk while you get dressed.”
I wrapped up in his bathrobe and lay on the bed, watching while he toweled down. Yum. It was seriously difficult to concentrate. He was completely unfazed by me watching. Peacock.
“First, let me ask you something.” I cleared my throat. He had his pants on, which helped, some. “Are there any Weres living in Denver who aren’t part of the pack?”
“No,” he said, too quickly. I waited while he made a show of choosing his socks. “Yes,” he amended. “There’s a group trying to set up. We aren’t going to let them. And you’re not supposed to know that. Is that what this is about?”
“Maybe. I’m an unofficial consultant for the Denver PD on paranormal stuff—”
“What?” He looked startled. “They don’t know—”
“One of them does.” I waved it off. “That’s an even more complicated story. But for now, take it on trust. I’ve got a police report compiled from every attack in the area that mentions big dogs or wolves. I need to discuss it with the pack. There’s something happening, and I’m afraid it means a rogue.”
Alex slipped on his jacket. “This is not going to go down well.” He checked his watch. “It’s going to have to keep until Thursday. I can’t just send you to talk to the alpha. Certainly not with that as an introduction. It’s going to be bad enough as it is when he smells you.”
I shrugged; another person who’s going want to tear my throat out. Take a number. I’d deal with it when the time came. “Thursday it is.”
I followed him down the stairs and he pulled a set of keys off a rack in the kitchen. “These are your keys,” he said simply. No conditions, no boundaries.
We wrapped around each other at the front door.
“Got your head straight now?” he asked.
“I think so.”
“I’m your kin and you’re my pack?”
I nodded. I could work with that.
He kissed my nose. Definitely a wolf thing, that.
“I’m not going to get along well with Kingslund,” he warned. “And…”
He stopped.
“Spill it, wolf.”
He sighed. “You think you’ve melted the ice queen…I don’t know.” He shook his head. That was the end of that part of the conversation.
“We’ll work something out,” I said, realizing that was actually Jen’s phrase. It was starting to be a mantra for me.
His hand was on the door when he turned. “Tara?”
I swallowed. I shouldn’t have said anything. I must seem crazy enough to people without adding her into it. “Twin sister. Stillborn.”
“And she talks to you?”
I nodded warily.
“Cool,” he said, and he was gone.
I strolled back to the kitchen to make myself some coffee.
Skylights flooded the place with light and I sat there, eyes closed and purring to myself, snorting the scent of Alex’s Blue Mountain coffee. I had a truckload of problems, but I’d find a way around them, one at a time.
Alex seemed to understand that my needs as an Athanate might be complex. Was that just because he was an all-around good guy, or the effect of Athanate changes working on him already?
And not just Alex, but Jen as well. This morning, everything seemed possible, whatever Alex said about Jen. The Athanate in me stirred in contentment, like a snake dreaming in the hot sun. Yesss.
I gave myself a little shake and took my coffee to the living room.
She was still t
here, on the one section of the bookshelves that was clear. I’d walked away quickly last time, not wanting to see her, trying to pretend she didn’t exist. This time, I did her the courtesy of picking her up and looking at her while I drank my coffee.
There wasn’t much I could tell from the photo. She was bronzed and raven-haired, maybe Arapaho, maybe closer to that side than me. I’d dismissed her as pretty last time, but she wasn’t; she was beautiful. And it’s hard being jealous of a dead woman.
She was dressed for the outdoors, the sun on her face and the Rockies in the background. She was laughing. I knew I would have liked her, if we’d met. And that changed it for me. I touched the photo with my fingertips. I’d learn about her. If she lived a little in my heart, she would not be dead.
Then, having made my peace with her, I got down to Alex’s file.
But my thoughts kept returning to kin, to Alex and Jen, and to my new Athanate family, David and Pia. And so to my own human family. As much as I’d kept myself distant from them, for their own safety, they’d always been true family. They’d always been a constant, something I held to when I’d worried about becoming Athanate. When I woke from another nightmare, sweating and shivering, I’d sometimes eased myself back to sleep with memories of Kath and me braiding each other’s hair, or brushing it out, singing along to the radio. And all those precious memories were now turning sour. My teeth started to clench.
I managed to finish Alex’s file before I went to pay my sister a visit.
Chapter 13
“Really, Ms. Farrell, she’s not available except by appointment.”
The receptionist was fashionably dressed, like something off the cover of a style magazine. I wondered if they had a spare receptionist in the back office who did all the work to make sure the one at the front desk never mussed her hair or broke a fingernail.
“Well, if she’s so busy, maybe she’d prefer I talk to the managing partner instead.”
“I’m afraid he’s busy too.”
“I didn’t doubt that for a moment, but I’m a PI. By closing time I can find out where he lives, what clubs he belongs to and which restaurants he goes to. If that’s what my sister wants.”