Secret Worlds (531 page)

“Are you going to eat that whole block?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at me as he tried the sauce and added another dash of pepper.

Looking down at the cheese sitting on the cutting board, I saw that I’d already nibbled my way through a sizeable portion. “I might.”

Leaning towards me he plucked the chunk of cheese I had just broken off out of my hand, popping it into his own mouth with a challenging arch of his brow. I responded to his thievery by sticking out my tongue and breaking off another piece, nibbling it contemplatively as I watched him.

“So, where’d you learn how to cook anyway? I’m lucky if I can boil an egg.”

“The ranch in Texas,” he answered with a shrug. “My dad’s still the ranch manager there. Growing up like that, surrounded by ranch hands and cattlemen, you pick up a few things. All my brothers and sisters know how to cook, hunt, and deliver a calf.”

“I didn’t know you had any siblings,” I commented, gnawing away at my piece of cheese like an overgrown mouse.

“Yup. Three brothers and three sisters. All older.”

“Wow. That’s a big family,” I said, wondering what it would be like to be part of such a large family. It had just been me and my grandparents, and then just me, for most of my life, and although it had been lonely a lot of the time I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be constantly surrounded by siblings.

How would you ever get any privacy?

I shuddered at the thought of what puberty must have been like in a packed house.

Awkward.

“So you’re the baby, huh?” I asked with a teasing lilt in my voice.

From the flicker of long-suffering annoyance that passed over his face I got the impression that he’d been called that more times than he cared to count, but there was another emotion buried beneath the irritation. There was a deep well of sadness and anger in him, kept locked away. When it didn’t appear that he was in the mood to discuss his family any more, I eased myself down from the countertop and laid out plates on the table, pouring us both a much deserved glass of wine.

***

As delicious as dinner was, it may as well have tasted like sawdust for as much as I enjoyed it, my thoughts distant. Try as I might I was unable to focus or find a comfortable spot at the table, my skin itchy and tight like a wool sweater that was two sizes too small.

When I shifted in my seat for the third time in as many minutes, Holbrook set down his fork and looked at me across the table. “What’s wrong?”

“Hmm?” I asked, looking up from my plate.

“You’ve been pushing around the same piece of spaghetti for the last five minutes. You seem a little distracted.”

“It’s nothing,” I replied automatically, blushing at the sharp edge to my voice. Setting down my fork I ran a hand across the back of my neck, trying to ease the muscles bunched beneath my skin. “Sorry. It’s the wolf. I haven’t changed for a few days; she’s feeling a little antsy.”

Reaching across the table he curled his fingers over mine and squeezed. “I can’t let you go run. I wish I could, but you know I can’t.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“The wolf…is it, er…safe around people?”

“I guess so.” The weight of his question finally penetrated my thoughts. “Wait. You mean, change? Here? Now?”

“It’s just an idea,” he said, blushing. “Forget it.”

“I’ve never changed in front of a mundane before.”

“I didn’t mean right here in the middle of the kitchen,” he said, rising from the table to put his plate in the sink. Even the tips of his ears had turned pink, the flush extending up the back of his neck. “Forget I mentioned it.”

It was true I’d never shifted around mundanes before, my little escapade at the Knotty Pine was the closest I had ever come to anyone other than a were seeing me go through the change. The wolf didn’t like being around people; she preferred the quiet solitude of the woods where she was free to run and hunt. Here in civilization she was nervous, on edge, and unhappy to be constantly surrounded by the close press of humanity.

I hadn’t been nervous about shifting since the first couple of times it happened. It had terrified me for the first few painful moments, and then the ecstasy of releasing the wolf had taken over, washing away all my fear. Since then I’d never been afraid of the change. But sitting here, in the middle of the kitchen, surrounded by the scent of tomato sauce and garlic, I felt nervousness bloom in my gut.

God, it would feel good to shift though,
I thought.

Pushing back from the table I took my plate to the sink, gently bumping my shoulder against Holbrook’s. Some of my nervousness slipped away when he smiled at me and nudged back.

“Can I use your bedroom?”

I chuckled when he almost dropped his glass in surprise, managing to catch it just before it struck the edge of the sink.

“Sure.”

MY HANDS SHOOK as I peeled off the borrowed shirt, dropping it on the bed. Now that I was about to go through with it, my stomach twisted into knots. Sinking down on the edge of the bed I rested my elbows on my knees and ran my hands over my face, rubbing away the grit in my eyes.

What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this
.

The sugary scent of Holbrook surrounded me as I drew in a deep breath. The smell of him was all throughout the house, but it was strongest here where he slept. Breathing in his unique fragrance I tried to ease the frantic beating of my heart, but couldn’t get past the noise in my head. I lay back on the bed with a sigh, the scent of him stronger the closer I got to the sheets. Before I even realized what I was doing I had already pulled back the blankets and was rubbing my cheek along the cool cotton, mingling my scent with his. The wolf floated up to the surface, her scent of fur and spice filling the air, twining around everything else to create a heady perfume. Rolling across the bed, I inhaled our entangled scents, the combination of them easing my racing pulse.

“Everything okay in there?” Holbrook asked from the other side of the door, his voice cutting through the haze.

I froze like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar, an embarrassed flush warming me all the way from the roots of my hair to the tips of my toes. “Fine. Everything’s fine,” I called out, hoping that the door would muffle my reply, hiding the tremor in my voice.

Pull it together. You can do this. You’re just going to change. You’ve done it a thousand times,
I told myself.

Bolstered by my little pep talk, I finished undressing, and unwinding the bandage around my ribs to toss it onto the bed next to my clothes. I’d only just closed my eyes and begun to reach for the wolf when I found her startlingly close to the surface, already arching up to meet me and burst free. She was eager to emerge despite the unfamiliar surroundings and the foreign scents of civilization all around us. She was feeling the need for release even more fiercely than I was. It sang to her in the siren song that only those with my particular affliction can hear, calling to her, seducing her.

I’d never had the change come on so quickly, or with such strength. One moment I was standing beside the bed, preparing for the flare of pain that I knew would come, and the next I was on my hands and knees, shuddering at the prickle of fur erupting all over my body. The change tore through me with enough force to knock the air from my lungs and narrow my vision down to dark pinpoints. When I came back to my senses I was sprawled on the floor, panting in an effort to fill my burning lungs with air.

“Riley? Are you okay?” Holbrook asked from beyond the door, his voice tight with worry.

I could smell his tension and hear the rapid thump of his heart. I was about to tell him everything was fine when I remembered that I’d shifted and he was just as likely to understand me as the raccoon rustling around the trashcans in the yard. My legs trembled as I climbed to my feet but held steady. Giving my body a thorough shake, I let the last few tremors of the change subside before I padded to the door and stopped. Looking at the door handle I realized my oversight.

Shit, I guess I didn’t really think that part through.

Scratching the bottom of the door I stepped back and waited for Holbrook to open it. The door creaked open to reveal him standing in the hallway, backlit by the lights in the living room. Both the wolf and I admired the fine figure he cut in low slung Levis and a form fitting FBI academy t-shirt.

“Wow. You’re um…big,” he said, his green eyes bright and wide.

Tilting my head to the side I frowned at him, my lip curling back to bare a single large canine in warning.

“Sorry,” he murmured, eyes still wide as he stared at me.

Huffing, I pushed past him, knocking him into the wall with one large muscled shoulder.

“Hey! Watch it!” he said with a laugh, following me into the living room rubbing his elbow, though I noted that he kept his distance.

Circling wide around me, he eased down into the recliner, his movements slow and measured, as though he was afraid to move too fast. Around any other were I would have said that was a wise move, but such precautions weren’t necessary with me. When I shifted, I never fully relinquished control to the wolf. The thought of completely losing myself to the beast terrified me, and I’d never mustered the courage to let go.

I’d briefly attended a support group for newly shifted weres under the direction of my therapist during and after Samson’s trial. Except for the leaders of the group, I was the only adult; all the others were adolescents who were coming into their naturally born gifts as they went through puberty. Most weres are born, very few of us contract the virus like I did. The majority of attack victims, which are thankfully few and far between, die from their injuries rather than contracting lycanthropy. I guess I’m just special that way.

The group’s leader had guided me through those first few terrifying shifts, helping the wolf and I find balance until we could live and thrive together. They had urged me to let the wolf lead when I shifted, to let her have control, saying that we’d never truly be one until I learned to let go, but I couldn’t do it. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t let go of what little remained of my humanity. After everything I had gone through, it was just too much to ask of me. I’d stopped going to the meetings shortly after that.

The wolf didn’t always like our arrangement, but she knew that if she wanted to continue to come out and play it was on my terms, and mine alone. Luckily we both saw eye to eye where Holbrook was concerned, and were in agreement that he was someone we trusted.

“Can I…touch you?” he asked as if he sensed my thoughts.

Padding across the living room, I stopped just beyond the reach of his outstretched hand, settling back on my haunches. The wolf and I were both fighting against our nervousness and instinct to run away. She was nervous of human touch, reluctant to be petted like a dog, while I was afraid to see fear or, even worse, revulsion, on his face.

I eased forward a fraction of an inch, craning my neck towards him to feel the first tentative brush of his fingertips against my muzzle, and immediately pulled back. My ears flapped against my skull when I shook my head, the tingling energy from his touch making me sneeze.

“Gross, wolf snot!” he said, chuckling and wiping his hand on his jeans.

Wiping my snout with a large paw I ducked my head and gave him a sheepish look. Shuffling closer I laid my chin on his knee, looking up at him with the best puppy-dog eyes I could muster by way of an apology.

“Oh, that’s just not fair,” he said with a laugh. “You’ve got a serious advantage.”

Emitting a whine, I drew my brows together into the most pitiful expression possible, cranking the cuteness factor up to eleven.

“Cheater,” he muttered, reaching out to touch me. I watched the amusement drain out of his face, his features softening with surprise while his eyes widened once more. “You’re
so
soft,” he said in an awed breath, sliding his fingers along the slope of my crown to where my ears met my skull.

Oh. My. God. That’s fucking amazing.

Barely refraining from thumping my tail against the floor in sheer delight, I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. I’d never felt anything as good as the sensation of his fingers gliding over the sensitive flesh behind my ears.

“Wait. You’re house trained, right?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Oh, ha ha. Very funny.

I bared my canines to let him know that I was not at all amused by his question.

“Sorry, sorry!” he said, raising his hands in a placating gesture, though the effect was diminished by the laughter bubbling over in his voice.

Exhaling heavily to blow hot air in his face, I pulled my head off his lap and scooted backwards just enough to allow myself room to turn around and stand, making sure to whack him in the face with my tail in the process.

“I said I was sorry!” he called after me as I stalked across the room.

Stopping in front of the couch, I swung my large head around to glance at him over one muscled shoulder, giving him a disparaging look, before hopping up onto the couch. I was already beginning to feel the positive effects of the shift, my muscles loosening and my aches subsiding. My more serious injuries weren’t anywhere close to being healed, but my movements came easier and with less pain. Yawning wide, I stretched out along the couch, resting my chin on my crossed paws. I made a show of ignoring him, pretending not to notice when he got up from the recliner and kneeled beside the couch, bringing his face down to the same level as mine.

“What can I do to make you forgive me?” he asked, propping one elbow on the arm of the couch to trail his fingers through the ruff of fur at the back of my neck. “Should I get you a cookie? Or give you a belly rub?”

While part of me wanted to snap at him for his predictable, and marginally offensive, use of dog humor, I couldn’t stop my ears from twitching at the mention of a belly rub. I mean, come on, who doesn’t like a good belly rub every once in a while?

Letting out a loud sigh, as if the action was a great inconvenience, I rolled onto my back, baring the pale downy fur of my stomach. I jerked at the soft touch of his fingers close to the scar on my stomach buried beneath my fur. I looked at him askance, watching him with a combination of wariness and the wolf’s suspicion.