She blinked in relief, her knees still trembling. “Are you sure they are really gone? No baby fangs?”
He laughed. “They look normal to me.”
She touched her teeth, daring to run her tongue over them, exhaling loudly in relief. Win settled back, her leg still hooked across his thigh. She was sitting between his legs, feeling utterly exposed. She must look a mess, she tried to retract her foot, but he caught her ankle in his hand. “How’d you know how to do that?”
He chuckled. “It’s called distraction.”
“Hmm,” she hummed, pushing sweaty hair off her face.
“You’re filthy,” he remarked, raising a brow. “You look like you did a mud run. Come on.”
Win allowed him to haul her to her feet. She winced, the cuts and bruising on her soles unbearable. He hooked an arm around her waist, but when it was clear she was in too much pain, he dipped his back and snaked his other arm under her legs, lifting her off the ground. Win shifted in his arms, grabbing the back of his collar to keep from slipping, her fingers casually brushing through his hair. He’d lifted her on his right, so she was looking directly at the three claw marks running under his bottom lip.
“Stop looking at my face,” he warned, throwing her a glare, and she ducked her eyes.
“Where are we going?” she changed the subject. He was plowing through waist-high undergrowth, long weeds whipped at her skin as they passed. Her feet stung from cold and the exposed cuts on her soles.
“The brook isn’t far. We’ll get you washed up.” He took a breath through his nose, shifting her weight. Win supposed he was used to carrying large animals, but still, she must be heavy. “What’s that thing you’re carrying? The box?”
Win stared down at the wooden box still firmly tucked under her arm. She exhaled, not knowing where to start. “It’s my great aunt,” she answered, and his brows flew skyward.
“You mean it was?”
He stumbled but quickly regained his balance. Gentle trickles of water greeted them as he pushed through some leafy cedar pines, the rocky edge of the brook opening up. Grayson dropped Win on her bottom as gracefully as he could manage. He didn’t complain, but he straightened his back and flexed his arms, shaking them out. Win put the box on the rock next to her.
“She was like me…like my family,” she corrected herself. “They’re her remains.”
“Oh.” Grayson blinked. He shrugged out of his heavy jacket and pulled his thin sweater over his head, stripping down to his vest.
Win took a sharp breath but tried to pretend she wasn’t at all bothered about him shedding clothing. His arms were large, lithely muscular, and blood rushed to her face. She was only ever used to seeing him in all his hunting gear, but it was scorching, and he’d carried her for half a mile. “I’m sorry…where did you find her?”
Win crossed her legs, noticing the way he was looking at them. “Uh, at Luke’s…I did what you told me. I followed my nose. She was buried under the floorboards in the attic.”
“Jesus, that’s grim. Does Luke know?” He sat down beside her and started unbuckling his boots.
Win grimaced, forcing away visions of Luke scrambling back into his boxers. If she hadn’t been so on edge, it would’ve been comical. “I have to fill him in at some point. It turns out we are distantly related…what are you doing?” Grayson was barefoot. He hopped in the brook. Water gushed around his ankles.
“I’m wading.” He looked up and smiled. “Going to get you cleaned up. Give me a foot.”
Win jerked her knee back, her cheeks bright pink. “No!”
“The waters clean if that’s what you’re worried about.” He stood firm, hands-on-hips. “Give me your foot. I’m not going to stand in here all day.”
Not what I was worried about, Win thought, carefully extending a toe in his direction. He caught her ankle, nearly pulling her off the rock; she gripped it with her fingers as he knelt in the shallows. He kept her foot wedged in his lap as he splashed cold, clean water over her feet, rubbing off the mud-splattered halfway up her calves. He washed the dirt off her feet, and she hissed, her soles covered in unpleasant cuts.
“Sorry.” He looked up through dark lashes. “I’m not used to being gentle.”
She watched his hands meticulous, scrubbing the dirt off her, her other leg limp as he swapped them. The cool water was good against her skin; the change had left her shivery and feeling like she had the beginnings of a fever. She tongued her upper gums, flinching as she probed where her canines had extended, her tender flesh on fire.
“So is this what happens? When you get stressed, it brings on…changes?” Grayson looked at her gently, and Win shrugged.
“It can…I was really on edge.” She recalled hovering over Robert Fraser like he was prey. “I couldn’t get control of myself…it wasn’t me. Seeing Luke with Ella was the final straw, I guess.”
Grayson’s head snapped up. “Really? Luke and Ella?”
“Hmm.” She folded her arms. “They’ve been—you know.” She bobbed her head, waiting for him to react. “You know?”
Grayson made a noise of surprise. “Ah, I see. I thought you said they weren’t together.”
“Well, they are a pair of liars,” Win snapped. “They were…I caught them.” She was too bashful to form the words. Grayson sniggered.
“You can say having sex, Win,” he laughed at her obvious embarrassment. “Does it bother you they are…” He made a face, winking one eye suggestively, and Win smirked. She fiddled with her hands in her lap, feeling heat creeping up her chest.
“No, it’s not that,” she sighed. “They didn’t tell me…I mean, it’s none of my business, but I would have thought Ella might have said something. She’s my best friend.”
I thought she was. Win’s gut twisted, remembering her life back in Boston and the way her old friends had treated her once she got sick. Win thought of all the late-night chats with Ella, sitting on her back porch, feeling like she’d found her soul mate. The whole time she had been hiding this whopping secret, it made her insides tighten.
And there was something else. Something unspoken. Win couldn’t say out loud because if she did, she really would be the terrible person she thought she was. Grayson was looking at her, a knowing expression. He let her foot drop into the water, splashing his jeans. He dipped, cupping his hands and splashed water over his face and arms. Win bit her lip and averted her eyes.
He climbed out of the brook, sitting close beside her, shoulder to shoulder.
“Do you think?” he paused, giving her shoulder a nudge. “You got so upset because Ella has done something you haven’t?”
Win covered her eyes with her hands. “Makes me sound pathetic and jealous, huh?”
“No, it makes you sound normal. It’s normal to get envious at times.”
Win leaned back, arching her spine and stretching out the kinks, aware he was watching her. “I want them to be happy. But yes, the thought of them having this big secret…laughing behind my back.”
“I don’t think they were laughing. They were wrapped up…with each other. It’s what people do.” He paused, assessing her reaction. “I understand. Also, it doesn’t feel good when people keep secrets.”
Win snuck a hand across his, letting their fingers entwine. “Thank you.” He dipped his head toward hers; she thought he was leaning in to kiss her again, but instead, he dipped the cuff of his shirt into the brook.
“For what?” he asked.
“Letting me talk. For not making me feel like an awful person.” Her eyes strayed to the box, tense in anticipation of what was to come. Grayson brought the wet shirt sleeve to her face and dabbed away speckles of mud-splattered up on her run. When he touched it to her chin, it stung.
“Sorry, you’ve got a little blood there.” He cupped her chin with his hands, running his thumbs over the tiny indentations the canines had made against her flesh. “I guess you’ll have to get used to it.”
/> Win shook her head. “I won’t ever get used to it. I never want it to happen again. The way they looked at me.” Her voice trailed off, rushing away like the water down the brook. She held onto one of his hands. He narrowed his eyes, examining the tiny marks under her lip.
“You can’t help that. People are always frightened of what’s different.”
“You aren’t.” Her heartbeat rapidly, like it could hammer its way out of her body. She wished he would kiss her.
He pushed away from the rock, still standing ankle-deep in the babbling water. He had a playful look in his eye, a glint catching the sun. He grinned, quickly ducking and, taking a great handful of cold water, threw it in her direction. Win gasped as freezing liquid dribbled down the back of her shirt. She made a determined face and jumped in, cupping her hands to gather some water. He splashed her fully in the face before she had the chance. She laughed and kicked water at him, sending streams of water in the air, soaking his hair, drips cascading down onto his shoulders. He brought up another handful, chucking it straight at her. She yelped and laughed and kicked another foot load over him until they were both entirely soaked.
She laughed helplessly, and when she tried to flee to the safety of the rocks, he caught her by the waist and pulled her back against him. The heat from his eyes was enough to scorch her skin. It was too much. And she couldn’t let him get away this time. Before he could duck away, she stood on her tiptoe, heels out of the water, as she found his mouth with hers, her hands either side of his face so he couldn’t pull away. He made a gruff noise in his throat, snaking his hand around her back, sliding it up under her shirt. Win was surprised he was so gentle, his mouth so soft on hers, she pulled back, hardly able to breathe between kisses.
Inside, she was shuddering, so hot and tense, his hands were greedily scoping out her body, her hair. Her skin was on fire; tiny spots of water dripped from his hair onto her face. Dizzily, she ran her hands over his arms, feeling the strength in the muscles there, taught and firm. He deepened the kiss, but her upper lips were bruised, and she jerked involuntarily, making a noise against his mouth. Grayson pulled back in alarm.
“Did that hurt? I’m sorry!”
She was desperate to pull him back, when splintering pain tore across her temples. She bent double, her vision going black, the world spun, and she was hurtling forward toward the water. Grayson was calling out her name, but she squeezed her eyes tight, trying to cling on to anything steady.
The metal door with the padlock appeared in her vision. Grayson was holding her hand when the stars cleared away, and weakly she sank to her knees. He caught her before she crumpled into the water. Win was aware he’d picked her up, once again carrying her through the forest, her head slumping on his shoulder.
“My box,” she murmured, the pain behind her eyes so intense she had to keep them closed. The light hurt.
“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” he was speaking, but he sounded so far away. “I’ll get you home…Is this going to happen every time I kiss you?”
She nestled into the side of his neck, feeling his long hair tickle her face. She shivered and huddled closer. Why did this have to happen now?
She was falling asleep, her body shutting down to cope with the pain in her skull, the bones throbbing and splintered. She touched his chin with her hands. “It was perfect,” she whispered before she gave in and fell asleep.
Eleven
DAYLIGHT BROKE THROUGH the thin curtains. When she opened her eyes, they stung, Win retracted under the covers. Her bed was warm, and when Win stretched, she noticed a body next to her. Twisting in the sheets, she blinked up at her grandfather. His eyes were closed, and he was softly dozing, his arms folded across his chest, his book discarded open across his stomach. Win watched it rise and fall gently before she reached out and lifted it away, careful not to lose his page. A lump clogged in her throat as she realized he must have been there all night, keeping watch. Sliding up the bed, heaving herself into a sitting position, she wondered how she even got here.
Her face flamed. Grayson. Had he been the one to bring her home? Win’s eyes widened. The box! She flung her legs over the side of the bed, her weak ankles giving as she touched the rug. It was there, buried up among her rumpled clothes. Win exhaled, slumping forward to her knees with relief. Darting a look over her shoulder, she curled back inside the covers, wondering if he’d even noticed the box. Had he questioned why a guy in hunter’s garb was bringing her home in such a disheveled state?
Win dozed next to him, letting her heavy eyes close, a dull ache behind her temples. The metal door with the heavy padlock. What on earth did it mean? She’d found Iris. A pang of nausea swirled in the pit of her belly. Her fingers curled around the edge of the pillow, she concentrated on breathing, fighting away the thought of what she had become yesterday. Running her tongue along her gum line, she winced, hitting a raw spot, a not so gentle reminder of the tooth eruption. Win shivered as her grandfather’s eyes opened. She watched as his irises contracted in the light, narrowing to a pinpoint, the briefest flash of yellow. He grimaced and rubbed his eyes, not knowing she was watching him.
“You been here all night?” She smiled up at him, his eyes cast down toward her. He reached across and ran a hand through her messed up curls, splayed across the pillow.
“I was worried. We all were. Thought I’d return the favor and sit with you.”
Win watched him closely, her eyes wandering over his weathered face. Was it possible she hadn’t noticed the extra lines etched around his eyes, skin duller than she remembered? His hands, always so large and strong, shook with the tiniest tremor, barely visible to the naked eye. But she could see it.
“What’s happening to you, Grandpa?” she whispered; he flicked his eyes across to her. He smiled gruffly, reaching out to pat her hip.
“I’m fading Win,” he said, with a hint of sorrow etched behind the smile he wore. “I don’t know when or how. But it won’t be long now.”
Win crawled across the bed, laying her head on his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. “Why?”
“It’s my time. I’ve been around a lot longer than you think…I wanted to see you through this. But I don’t know if I can.”
“You can’t go. So much is happening. I need you, Grandpa. Rowan too.”
He shifted, sitting up in bed, keeping a tight hold of her hand. As always, he smelled like fresh pines and the forest. Like a wolf running free. “Are you going to tell me what happened?”
Win sat up and wiped her eyes. She didn’t know how to talk about Luke and Ella; she was still humiliated. The vision of their flushed faces, their wrecked clothing…Win pushed the memory away.
“I had a fight with Ella, and I couldn’t….”
“Control yourself?”
“I was so angry. My head was filled with noise. I couldn’t think straight—the pain in my head was blinding. Then I looked in the mirror….”
His brows knitted together. “Uh ha,” he murmured. “I guess that must have hurt.” He pinched her chin, tilting it to examine the tiny little scratches under her lip. The tender flesh under her nails continued to throb, even though the cuts had healed overnight. “It's healed up nice, though.”
Her cheeks were wet; cursing herself, she wiped her face. “I can still feel them there.”
“It doesn’t get easier, honey,” he drawled. “You got to learn to keep that head of yours.”
Win bristled, her brows shooting skyward. She was about to open her mouth in defense when he held his hand up.
“Let me finish…it’s not you. But you’ve been somewhere else these last couple of months. You are learning and learning fast. But the animal in you is there, lying dormant, like a sleeping bear. It wants out. But you got to be the one who controls it, not the other way around.”
“So what you’re saying is, control my temper?” she snorted, feeling the irritation inside her rising. “Easier said than done.”
“D
on’t you think I know?” he laughed. “I was like you. A total hot head. I was fiery and strong…I always fought with my sister, though it never lasted long. And I was after any woman I could get my hands on…or let me get my hands on them!”
Win screwed up her face in disgust. “Grandpa!”
He chuckled, scratching his beard. “It’s true. I couldn’t help it. Teenage hormones mixed with the calling of my wolfish nature…not a good combination.”
Win wrung her hands, feeling heat creeping up her neck. She supposed she had been more than forthcoming when it came to Grayson. She couldn’t have been more obvious in her pursuit, her feelings written across her face. All summer, Win had flirted, touched him, pushed him to where he’d had to hold her at arm’s length. The night she had wantonly stood in the lamplight at the window, letting him watch her while she undressed, knowing full well the torment she was causing. He’d been the one to push her away, but not for the reasons she had thought all this time. When he’d kissed her, she’d felt him break, his submission ebbing, melting into her.
John coughed, his gaze darkening. “Speaking of…men. Who was the guy who brought you home last night?”
“Oh...” Win fiddled with some loose skin around the bed of nails, her ears burning. He was watching her intently, awaiting her reaction. “He’s someone I’ve been seeing…a friend.”
“A friend, huh?” John drawled. “Well, he carried you up here, ringing wet. Your dad wasn’t too happy, I can tell you!”
“Grayson was here!”
“He didn’t want to leave. Rowan seemed to know who he was…but we got him to go eventually. He was as white as a sheet…and what was with the mask? He scared the crap out of us.”
Win bit her lip. “He did?”
“We were on the porch, your dad and me—then he walks out of the forest with you in his arms. I nearly had a heart attack!”
Wild Spirit: Huntress Page 12